The Suprise Attack

In the kingdom, every noble and soldier possessed unique abilities and skills, each armed with magical swords and remarkable artifacts. Among them was Lazarus, the weakest hunter, known for wielding an old, rusted melee weapon. Though effective in battle, his humble weapon was often dismissed by others, as they believed it had been found in a common dungeon. This constant neglect and demotivation weighed heavily on him, leaving him feeling forgotten. In stark contrast, his brother Mikeal was hailed as the First Sword of Pennsylvania, adorned with powerful demon artifacts and a holy demon sword gifted by their father, King Felix, after he valiantly defended the demihumans three years prior.

Princess Amelia was a formidable mage and healer, renowned for her ability to heal and teleport during combat. Despite lacking artifacts or swords, her leadership and strategic mind made her one of the most respected nobles. Aunt Rosy and Uncle, both skilled mages, excelled in protective magic, creating shields and mastering defensive spells. At the pinnacle of power were King Felix and Queen Alexia, who possessed over three holy demonic swords and extraordinary armors, along with various other invaluable artifacts.

Lazarus stood at the edge of the barracks, clutching his rusted melee weapon closely to his side. Its weight felt familiar, yet every glance at his brother, Mikeal, made his grip falter. The polished metal of Mikeal's holy sword gleamed under the sun, a beacon of power that had earned him the title of Pennsylvania's first sword. Warriors surrounded him, laughter intertwining with shouts of admiration.

"Look at the little scrap," a nobleman sneered, nodding toward Lazarus. The others chuckled, eyes narrowing.

Mikeal turned, his lips curling into a proud smirk. "You should be thankful for old rust. At least it keeps you humble, brother." His voice rang with a bravado that made the laughter swell.

Lazarus clenched his jaw, glancing aside. "It's not the sword that makes the warrior, Mikeal."

"Oh? Then why don't you show us what you can do, little scrap?" His challenge hung in the air, effortless and spiteful.

Before Lazarus could respond, Princess Amelia's voice pierced through the mocking. "Enough, both of you! We need to focus on our defenses."

She strode forward, a cloak billowing behind her, a fire in her eyes. A sharp intake of breath followed her, appraising her fierce gaze.

"Focus?" Mikeal scoffed. "Or distract ourselves from the fact that we've been missing the real enemy?"

"Amelia's right," Aunt Rosy added, stepping up beside her niece. "King Felix will want a strategy. The demons are regrouping; we can't let our guard down."

Felix's voice boomed from the central courtyard. "We've tasted victory! After sealing that hellish gate, the demons know fear!" His presence commanded attention, adorned in ornate armor, eyes blazing.

"Your Majesty," Amelia interjected, urgency threading through her tone. "We must prepare for a retaliatory strike. The peace won't hold if we don't—"

"Peace?" Felix spat. "Mere wailing of fools! I will not allow betrayal to this kingdom." His eyes locked onto Lazarus, brow furrowing, a tempest brewing within him. "You've done nothing but lurk in the shadows. How can we trust you?"

"Father, please," Mikeal interjected, stepping between them, his confidence unwavering. "Lazarus has fought alongside us. What makes you think he—"

"Silence!" Felix roared, dismissing his son with a wave. "We need warriors, not remnants!"

The earth trembled. From the horizon, seven dragons broke through the clouds, wings unfurled like darkened sails against a twilight sky. A hush fell, swallowing the air, whispers turning to screams as they descended.

"By the gods…" Rosy stammered, pacing backward.

Lazarus's heart drummed frantically.

"Look!" Mikeal shouted, leaping toward the sky, the arrogant light of his sword gleaming as he charged forth.

"Mikeal, no!" Amelia cried, but his form was already airborne, daring fate with every powerful stroke through the air. Flames would incinerate him—

Instead, the beasts unleashed a torrent, but out poured not fire, but soldiers. Allied warriors, bursting forth, shields raised and battle cries echoing through the chaos.

"We'll turn the tide!" a soldier bellowed.

A wave of despair crashed over Felix, fury spilling into madness. "This was a trap!" He howled, darting toward the unfolding melee. "Rally our forces!"

"Father, we can win this!" Mikeal called, severing through the throng, his sword a bloody arc as he cleaved through enemies. "Just believe—"

Lazarus tightened his grip, reality fraying around him. His skin prickled with static as he jumped in front of Queen Alexia, shielding her from a rogue arrow.

"Stop! What are you doing?" She glared, fury wrought in fear.

"Defending you." His voice rippled with calm.

"We're not weaklings, Lazarus!" she snapped back, yet her hands trembled at her side as she instinctively moved closer. "You can't—"

Before she could finish, a shadow swept past them, a great figure tearing through the mob, rallying the troops around him with strength unmatched.

"That's Darius!" Amelia shouted, pushing her way to the frontlines. "Come on!"

Through gritted teeth, Lazarus followed, trying to catch glimpses of his brother, unsure if fear or pride danced darker within him. The dragons loomed overhead, their roars echoing through the battlefield, a symphony of chaos.

"Amelia!" Mikeal's voice shattered the frantic noises nearby. He staggered, a battle-worn figure, slung against the bloodied ground. "Get back!"

"Get up!" She cried, pulling him free, her hands steady against his back.

Felix surged through the mob, rage glistening in his eyes as he cut a path through adversaries.

"To me, my soldiers!" he barked, head swinging as he obliterated anything in his path, letting fury dictate his moves, a maelstrom of fury and vengeance.

Lazarus spotted a knife tumbling toward the queen; he shoved a soldier aside and swung his blade wide, deflecting the dagger but not without cost, flesh tearing across his arm.

"Fools!" an enemy leader hissed, charging at him with sheer madness.

"Stand down!" A cascade of Caster energy erupted from Rosy, sending the leader sprawling back.

The tide began to shift, but not without cost—civilians lay lifeless, women shrieked in terror, children huddled together in fear. The atmosphere thickened with despair, and broken bodies littered the ground.

Felix howled, fury pouring over him like a twisted river. "We fight for our king! We fight for our kingdom!"

"But at what cost?" Amelia breathed, scanning the scene. "What of the innocents?"

A guttural roar echoed as a dragon swept close. Forgetting battles, the soldiers ducked for cover, but not Mikeal. He leapt, sword spinning in a deadly dance, energy igniting around him.

In the chaos, a sudden crack resounded; he stumbled under the recoil of a powerful blast, sailing off his feet.

"Mikeal!"

Lazarus surged forward before he could think, reaching for his brother as he fell. Instead, Amelia grabbed the arm of Mikeal, yanking him safe from an enemy blade.

"Why do you insist on being the hero?" she scolded, breathless.

"Because I am!" he spat back, gritting his teeth. "And you can't deny the blood of the brave!" He deflected an enemy blow, but another attack sent him stumbling.

Meanwhile, the skies darkened. Darius stood, a titan among troops, urging their spirits. "Take heart! Rouse your strength!

Felix cleaved through grasping hands, determination bleeding from his blade.

"Warriors of Pennsylvania, we will not falter!" His voice rang true.

At that moment, the tide surged toward them. Soldiers rallied, troops charged forth, driving back their foes. Yet, amidst their euphoria, despair lay thick, choking them as they piled enemies behind for victory.

Hours shifted in violent skirmishes. Relief paled against crimson-stained earth.

On a smoking field-bed, bodies piled as grotesque trophies, the chill settled.

Lazarus stood alone as soldiers looted bodies. He wiped blood from his blade; it clung stubbornly to his fingertips.

Felix's voice boomed again, louder than before. "We've won, but we must root out the traitor among us!" His gaze pierced anew into the crowd, a snake coiling tighter. "Lazarus! I know your treachery!"

Hands bound and bitter laughter from his brother echoed in the air.

"Me?" Lazarus scoffed, disbelief curling around his heart. "Why me?"

"Because it takes a snake to know one."

"Father, you—"

"Enough!" Felix dismissed him, a glare enough to silence the court. "Amelia, stand aside."

"Don't!" She stepped forward, trembling. "He was—"

"Waging war alongside scum. Your pleading only shames this family!" Felix's voice turned like glass. He motioned to the guards. "Take him to the dungeons! He will face consequences!"

Lazarus didn't flinch as they bound him tighter, nor did he shout, even as he felt their disdain. He had fought, yet in his father's eyes, he was forever broken. This was treachery, just another burden to bear.

"Brother!" Mikeal lunged forward, but Amelia tugged on his arm.

"Don't, let him go. He'll find a way to survive."

"Or die in darkness," he growled, rage flowing through him like poisoned blood.

"Be quiet, my dear!" Rosy whispered—a tiny flicker of desperation in her voice, an unlit sparkle among shadows.

Alone in a cold cell, Lazarus sat against damp stone, thoughts swirling. Darkness swelled within him, ballooning regret streaming unfurled like smoke.

As he drifted into a fitful slumber, memories taunted him—echoes of laughter, moments where strength greeted him with open arms, and now he could only think of betrayal, longing aching deep within.

Meanwhile, Amelia paced in her chamber, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why? I should have stopped this!"

Mikeal reveled at a banquet, laughter and merriment brightening the atmosphere, unaware of the shadows creeping at the edges.

"Another victory!" he proclaimed, raising a goblet high, oblivious to the sister's pain lingering like smoke misting the air.

Outside King's window, a whirlwind ripped through the night. Felix moved in slow motion as a flicker of understanding blossomed. A hellish gate materialized, emanating a sinister darkness, its edges shimmering with dread.

"Alexia! Get down!" he shouted as a towering figure stormed through.

But it was too late.

With a swift motion, the demon severed his head from his shoulders with a single, fluid motion.

Time collapsed around Queen Alexia's anguished scream, fusing the pieces of their kingdom into an improbable nightmare, spiraling them into a descent of despair.

As unreal darkness fanned in heartless wings, they'd begun to realize the monster's approach. But for now, the dance of death had only truly begun.