Darkness

A month had passed since the day the kingdom lost its king. The throne room had changed. The once golden banners now hung torn and darkened, stained by smoke and blood. And in the middle of it all sat Ven, draped in regal robes that did not belong to him, wearing the crown like a crown of mockery.

The Queen stood before the Lord of the Realm, Misa, her voice heavy with frustration and quiet sorrow.

"It's been a month," she said. "Kaiser still shows no signs of waking."

Misa looked down, silent. They all knew what that meant: no prince, no heir, no barrier left to stop Ven.

Ven, lounging on the throne with a cruel smirk, raised his hand. "Bring them in."

The doors creaked open. Four elderly priests were dragged in, chains clinking around their wrists and ankles. They had once stood at the king's side, guiding the spiritual path of the kingdom. Now they knelt in humiliation.

Ven leaned forward, eyes glinting. "Tell me," he said, almost playfully, "are you still loyal to your dead king?"

The eldest of the priests stood up with what little strength he had left. His voice was cracked but clear. "As long as the sun rises in the east, we are loyal to His Majesty. Nothing you do can change that."

Ven sighed and flicked his fingers. "Fine. Men!"

From behind the throne stepped the Beast Lord, a monstrous brute with jagged armor and a blade too large for any normal man to wield. He grabbed the elder priest by the throat, lifted him off the ground like a child's doll, and stabbed a jagged knife into his belly.

Blood splattered across the stone floor. The man gasped, convulsed, and went limp.

Ven turned to the other three. "Kill them."

The room filled with screams and the sound of steel slicing through flesh. The priests were executed in front of the throne, their lifeless bodies falling like sacks of grain. Only one remained. He looked up, his face pale with horror, yet his eyes still burning with hatred.

"Why keep me alive, you bastard?" he spat.

Ven walked down the steps of the dais slowly, his boots echoing ominously. He knelt beside the priest, placed a hand on his shoulder as if in comfort, and whispered, "I heard you have a daughter. Give me the scroll, and you both walk out of this alive."

The old man's lip quivered. Tears welled in his eyes. Finally, he fell to his knees and murmured, "The scroll... it's in the Casterys Cave."

Ven leaned in close, his breath cold against the priest's ear. "If your friends had spoken, I might've spared them too."

"Take him away. Cell three," he ordered.

As the guards dragged the priest out, the Queen approached cautiously. "What scroll? What is this about, Ven?"

Ven drew his sword and let it rest against his shoulder. "I want the sword of Dragarus."

The Queen froze. "Dragarus... the first King of Dragons? That sword is a myth."

"Not to me," Ven said, smiling. "Let me do the thinking. Fighting too. You just watch."

Far away, under the glowing light of a full moon, Luci sat with Rimu near a flickering campfire. Snow dusted the forest floor, and their breath fogged in the night air.

"The moon is full," Luci said absently.

"Hmm," Rimu replied. Both were lost in thought.

Then, from the shadows, a familiar voice called out. Luci looked up sharply. "Ritchi? Aerus?!"

Aerus stepped forward with Ritchi, both battle-worn but alive. "Luci? Gods, it is you! And Rimu too!"

The reunion was bittersweet. They sat around the fire, sharing food and pain.

"I still can't believe what happened to Ryan," Ritchi said quietly.

"He was Nightveil," Aerus added, bitterness in his tone. "He didn't even trust us enough to tell."

"Did he ever mention it to you?" Ritchi asked Luci.

Luci stared into the fire. "No. He talked about his mother once. But never Nightveil."

"He's dead now," Aerus muttered.

"He's not," Luci snapped. "I feel it. He's still alive."

Ritchi opened his mouth to protest, but Luci stood abruptly. "Enough. I don't want to talk about him."

The campfire crackled in the silence that followed.

Then the Great Lord arrived. His face was grim.

"Luci. I bring grave news. Communication's been scattered... but we've confirmed it. Your father—the king—is dead."

Luci dropped to his knees, tears welling up instantly. "Who did this?!"

"Ryan," the Great Lord said. "All evidence points to Ryan Nightveil."

Aerus jumped up. "He's alive?!"

Shodou, who had remained quiet until now, stepped forward. "As far as I know... yes."

Luci's eyes were hollow now. "It doesn't matter. He took his revenge. The king is gone."

Rimu let a tear slip. "I remember his embrace... just before I left for my three-year training. Now that warmth is gone."

Shodou placed a hand on Luci's shoulder. "Stand tall, Luci. Enemies still breathe."

Luci wiped his face and turned toward his tent. "We'll speak in the morning."

Rimu whispered as she followed behind, "I don't want war anymore."

The fire dimmed. Snow fell. Darkness swallowed the forest.

Meanwhile, Ven rode across the frozen plains on a white warhorse, his army following behind. They reached the jagged cliffs of the Casterys Rocks, where the winds howled like dying beasts.

Inside the dark cavern, the priest led them silently, stopping at a narrow passage. He pressed a stone on the wall. The rock rumbled and rotated.

A scroll fell out, wrapped in golden thread.

Ven stepped forward and caught it midair.

He unrolled the scroll and began to chant in a language long dead:

"Tim mucus Dragaruses en ja wedg kaji shkld wekfen thihalll..."

He repeated the spell ten times.

It translated roughly to: "All-mighty Dragarus, cast your light upon us and grant me your strength."

The scroll began to glow, radiating a deep blue light. Ven's body responded, his aura flaring up in a blinding surge of blue flame. The air shook. Stones cracked. The cave could not contain the force.

It exploded.

From the rubble, Ven emerged holding a black sword etched with ancient dragon runes. Behind him, a shadow with glowing eyes hovered, breathing like a living demon.

His men stared, horrified.

"Is the king alright?!" one of them cried.

Ven walked forward, eyes glowing faintly.

"The reign of Ven begins now. And it will never end."

The soldiers fell to their knees.

"All hail King Ven!"

"All hail King Ven!"

A cold wind swept through the ruins, whipping Ven's cloak like a god reborn. The dark figure behind him merged with his shadow, its form licking his boots like fire.

The captured priest whispered in dread, "This is evil..."

Ven turned to him with a smirk. "I am the dark. I am the shadow. I am the power. I am bad."

The chant echoed across the valley.

"All hail King Ven!"

"All hail King Ven!"