<i>The ancient woods shook as the Guardian-rank griffin fell, its gigantic beak striking the ground hard enough to crack it kilometers in each direction. The majestic animal was in a terrible state, its hundred-meter wings now torn and mangled, its feathers bloodied and its sides marred with deep, scarlet gashes. A legendary beast that had watched over the woods for centuries, it breathed its last under the foot of a single man.</i>


    <i>Grizzled, barrel-chested, and with arms thicker than tree trunks, the man boasted an aura even more imposing than that of the mythic animal at his feet. With a grunt, he brought his giant blood-red greatsword down on the griffin’s head, putting an end to its lengthy reign over the area. With a long, red pelt draped over his shoulders and a dozen other weapons strapped to his body, he looked every bit the brutal hunter he was. </i>


    <i>As the light in the griffin’s eyes dimmed, the man took a seat atop its head, crossing his legs as he circulated the immense amount of Flux entering his body. His formidable aura exploded out as he struggled to control the energy flooding into him, its volatile strength obliterating the nearby trees and animals. The wind picked up like a hurricane had appeared, ash and dirt flurrying about under the colossal pressure of his power. </i>


    <i>Then, a few minutes later, the chaos disappeared as suddenly as it had begun, the overbearing weight of his aura evaporating into the air like morning fog. Tranquillity returned to the vast forest as the powerful winds settled into a gentle breeze, running in soft circles around the man. </i>


    <i>“You have something to report?” the man suddenly spoke out, his eyes closed as he seemingly rested. At his question, the hazy figure of another man materialized behind him, cloaked in darkness and shadow. </i>


    <i>“It appears the third prince’s Life Candle has been snuffed, Your Highness,” the shadowy figure answered, his voice distorted and almost inhuman. </i>


    <i>The hunter’s eyes opened at that, mild surprise flickering in his blood-red irises. “Oh?” he said simply. “The third prince? He was…”</i>


    <i>“Prince Zayr, Your Highness,” the shadow filled in. “He was out touring the kingdom’s borders, attempting to win the bet he made with you.”</i>


    <i>“Ah, yes, I remember now,” the hunter said. “His Life Candle snuffed, you say?” He grunted out a laugh. “To think the stupid boy would get himself killed out there. Have you informed her yet?”</i>


    <i>“No, Your Highness. I’m certain none of the other powers are behind this; I would know if any of them were planning a move of this magnitude. The ones who’ve slain the young prince are likely a bold troupe of bandits or such – certainly no one of note.”</i>


    <i>The hunter let loose a breath, closing his eyes once again. “You should have led with that, Lyte. Dispatch the rest of the boy’s legions and ensure that he is revived. Tell him to clean up this mess on his own, or he can forget his claim to my name.”</i>


    <i>“Understood, Your Highness.”</i>


    <i>“And Lyte? Why didn’t the boy’s Shadows step in?”</i>


    <i>The figure hesitated for a moment, before explaining. “By your order, Your Highness, they were not to intervene until the period of the bet was over.”</i>


    <i>“I see. Very well, we shall keep it that way. Keep an eye on the situation; I want to know how the boy handles this mess, but ensure he does not bring greater shame to the Palace.”</i>


    <i>“Understood, Your Highness.”</i>


    <i>“Then, you are dismissed, Lyte.”</i>


    <hr>


    I breathed in deep, letting the sweet air fill my lungs before I let it all out, deflating myself like a balloon. For the first time in a long time, my nerves refused to quiet down as I prepared to step outside the hall. I couldn’t be sure what awaited me beyond the door, but there was little chance it was going to be a pleasant fate. In fact, the odds were heavily stacked in favor of death, which was arguably the least pleasant of all fates.


    Now, facing the very real threat of death once again, for the first time in a long time, I was nowhere near as composed as I’d always imagined I’d be. Truthfully, I was downright scared to face Zayr’s knights, and the fact irked me. The image I''d always held in my head of this moment painted me as fearless, undaunted in the face of insurmountable odds and legions of enemies. In the moment, though, I felt nothing but daunted and fearful. Still, there was nothing I could do but trudge on, in spite of the fear that shook my fingers and sent shivers along my skin. A plan had been made; now all I had to do was have faith and do what I’d always done: my best.


    As Leafstream had predicted, the black knights had surrounded the entrance of the hall by the time I walked out. They’d formed a semi-circle of three rows with their numbers, from which I estimated there to be about a hundred of them present. There had been more of them, but Leafstream had led away about a third with his escape.


    The knights still present stood at attention, like dark statues in their faceless helmets and armor, their spears held vertically in front of them. I grinned at them with all the casual confidence I could muster as I stepped out, taking in the surroundings with a hand resting on the hilt of my pole. The fires I’d set had done what they were meant to, keeping the city guards busy for the time, though it seemed they’d mostly handled the situation by then. Great plumes of smoke still rose from different parts of the inner district, but I could tell the fires themselves were all but burnt out.


    One of the knights stepped forward as I came out, stomping with the dignity of a royal knight. “Mountain Devil Ruby,” the man announced with a booming voice. “The Blood Palace’s Third Legion is placing you under arrest. We charge you on two counts of murder: for the killing of the lord of Wolfhaven, Arnon von Gilbourne, and for the killing of his royal highness, the third prince of the Blood Palace, Prince Zayr-”


    The man was cut off by a flame bullet of mine, the scarlet, finger-long weapon burying itself in the man’s forehead before he knew he’d been attacked. The bullet was no weak weapon, despite how simple it was to make one; its incredible speed, combined with the intense heat of my scarlet flame, made for a lethal weapon. The knight was dead before he hit the floor, and a moment of resounding silence settled over the people present.


    A rush of Flux entered my body as I stood before the men, smaller than the one I’d felt when I’d killed the city lord, but noticeable nonetheless. More importantly, though, I felt nothing else, even though I’d attacked unprovoked for once. That invisible chain of empathy that used to hinder me seemed to have been broken after killing Zayr, and in its absence, I felt as remorseless as Ren looked when he killed.


    I wasn’t sure what that meant for me, but I didn’t have the time to figure it out. I was standing before arguably the most dangerous fight of my life, and every second counted. A moment after I’d killed the man, I charged forward, diving into the lines of men with scarlet flame spiralling around my pole like a drill.


    I moved fast, but the men were knights of the Blood Palace after all, and they were leagues better than the city guards I’d fought at the auction hall. They spread apart as I charged, encircling me as I knocked down the two who couldn’t move out of the way in time.


    They had been prepared for me to attack, though, and they’d set up an Arte right where I landed. Glowing lines appeared at my feet, and before I could move, a sudden, crushing weight landed on my shoulders. Caught off guard, I fell to my knees under the enormous force, barely keeping myself from face-planting by using my pole for support.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    I couldn’t see the faces of the knights, but I could practically feel the smugness radiating off their bodies as they surrounded me, spears at the ready mere inches away from my body; a single move from me and they’d turn me into Swiss cheese.


    But fortunately for me, I didn’t need to move to deal with them. After all, I’d been expecting some form of this, and I wasn’t about to go down so easily. I called on the Flux around me, bringing down a swirling tornado of flame on myself. The scarlet fire was a spectacle as it engulfed the closest knights to me, wrenching out screams as they fell backwards.


    Flux rushed into me as at least two of the men caught in my flames died, giving me enough strength to push myself back to my feet. My mind raced as I tried to figure out a way out, knowing I had less than a second before the attacks came. I had no idea how to undo Artes, but I knew they were related to the runes that created them. With that thought, I mustered up the strength that I could and stomped on the cobblestone beneath my feet, hitting it with enough force to crack it.


    As the stone cracked, part of the runes making up the Arte shattered, floating away in little shards of light. Although the entire thing didn’t vanish, the pressure on my shoulders lightened considerably, giving me some of my freedom back, and not a second too soon.


    I felt more than saw the spear that came at me from behind, dodging it by a hair. As the weapon thrust past me, I whirled and grabbed the pole, giving it a hard tug and pulling the knight holding it into the flames around me. The man screamed as the intense heat washed over him, but I silenced him quickly with a claw to his throat.


    As he fell dead to my feet, I called off the taxing tornado of flames around me, standing tall and proud as I faced the small army of knights. With the pressure of the Arte lessened, I could move much easier, and I dove into the crowd before they could begin attacking. My pole struck out rapidly while I fired off fire bullets with my free hand. It was draining work, dodging through dozens of spells while focusing on attacking two different ways, but I needed to come out strong if I wanted to have a chance of staying alive.


    As much as I was in my element, though, the men I was facing were undoubtedly skilled. Before long, I’d racked up a dozen different injuries over my body as I tried to fight my way out of the blockade, my body bleeding, burnt, and battered all over. The knights were good at what they did, always ensuring that they had every angle covered while rotating the people attacking me. Having been freed of my emotional fetters, I was much more brutal in my attacks, but with the way they switched their people out, I’d only racked up six kills by the five-minute mark, which was nothing against their hundred-strong number. I tried as hard as I could, pushing my body and mind to their physical limits and miles beyond, but it was futile. No matter how strong the flames I called on were, no matter how fast I moved or how furiously I swung, the knights countered with equal strength.


    At the ten-minute mark, my kill count had reached ten, but I was also nearing the end of my tether. My Flux reserve was running dry, and my kills weren’t coming fast enough to replenish it. The knights weren’t letting me Revive, either. Their impressive teamwork meant that I hardly had a fraction of a second to rest, much less undergo the painful process that was Reviving. I was sure the moment I would try one, I would get a spear through the chest.


    “Ren! Any minute now,” I said over the call we were on, as I stood panting in the center of the knights. Blood poured from my forehead, painting half my face slick with red. There were at least three different icicles stabbed into my body, and my left leg had been scorched badly.


    The knights stood around me, none of them looking as pretty as when they’d arrived, but still healthy nonetheless. So long as they didn’t die, they’d heal themselves back within moments of me injuring them, which was as frustrating as it was bad for my situation.


    “Sorry, sorry, working on it,” came the boy’s strained response as I ducked under a spear thrust and lashed out with my claws, forcing myself to ignore the way my body screamed at me in pain as I did. “Just hold on for a minute longer, please.”


    I sighed to myself. A minute was asking for a lot, maybe even more than I could give, but there was little else I could do but have faith in him and try. I’d expected this, known this would be the result of my actions, but the helplessness and despair were hard to stave off still as reality bore down on me. The knights had slowed down their attacks now, fortunately, but I knew it wasn''t for any sense of weakness on their part, but an understanding that my resistance was coming to an end. And the realization was maddening. I still had so much to do, so much to accomplish. I hadn’t even established Rosefire yet, much less fulfilled the promise I made to the graves of my men. I couldn’t die here, as a forgettable nobody who’d dared to resist a prince and suffered the consequences for it.


    A fire arrow came at me from behind, and I twisted my body in time to dodge, but my burnt foot gave out under the sudden movement. Catching the momentary slip, the man in front of me struck with a viper quick thrust. Helpless, with a body so broken it simply couldn’t do as my brain asked, I watched as the ruthless tip of the spear plunged into my side, ripping through skin and flesh.


    A wretched cry escaped my lips as the pain tore through me, sharp and hot and painful like nothing I’d felt in a long time. I stumbled to the side, my legs shaking and barely keeping my weight up. I planted my pole down to support myself, leaning on it as I surveyed the situation with blazing eyes. I was closer to death than I’d ever been, but I refused to accept it until the last moment.


    A knight stepped forward then, a particularly powerful ice mage who was responsible for two of the three icicles currently stuck in me. I grimaced as I faced him, knowing that in my current state, I likely wouldn’t even win a one-on-one against him. With an entire army behind him, my situation was hopeless.


    “You have fought well, little Devil. For a mere Rank A to take on a squadron of the Blood Palace’s Third Legion and survive for as long as you have is a feat not many can claim, especially at your young age,” the man said, his voice gruff and powerful. “It’s a shame you went against the Young Prince – had circumstances been different, the Blood Palace would certainly have taken you under its wing.” He sighed then, like he was truly disappointed. “Unfortunately, you have killed a Prince of the Blood Palace. Now, your death here will only be the beginning of a most unpleasant fate.”


    Rage burned its way through me at the man’s words, the potent emotion numbing the pain wracking my body.


    “I am Squadron Commander Vyros of the Third Legion, top tier A Rank commander under the Third Prince’s order,” the man declared suddenly, with great formality. “Remember this honor, Ruby; the name of the knight who brought you down.”


    With those words, the man thrust his spear forward, aimed right at my heart.


    But I wasn’t quite done yet either. I was at death’s door, I knew, but I wasn’t going to show up alone.


    I stepped forward, ignoring the way the movement tore muscle and skin, tilting the slightest bit to the side while my arms blurred, moving almost with a mind of their own. Before the man’s spear had found my flesh, my pole was already high in the air, blood sizzling on the scarlet flame that had hardened into the shape of a blade around it.


    With a great spurt of blood, the commander’s arm separated from his torso at the shoulder, falling to the ground as his other arm thrust the spear deep into my gut.


    I hardly registered the pain, though, intent as I was on dragging the commander down with me. Blood gushed out through my mouth, but I was already moving, pulling out the last dregs of my strength to push myself faster than the knights around me could react.


    I felt the Flux in my arm running as I threw my last punch, the liquid power twisting and turning within me in a way I didn’t quite understand, even though it felt oddly familiar. It was only when my fist connected with the man’s faceplate that I understood. The force behind my strike was so great the metal rippled before being obliterated, the man’s head disappearing into a bloody mist with it.


    I fell to my knees as the commander’s headless corpse fell backwards, a smile on my face as I revelled in the strength of my <i>Explosion </i>Arte. It was a shame it had taken death for me to advance to the next level of understanding the Arte, but to witness it once before I died was a blessing.


    I let myself sit down, time slowing as the many knights around me brought down their attacks on my broken body. I accepted the many regrets I would die with, resolving to myself that, every step of the way, I’d done the best I could have done anyway. If I could go back, I would do everything exactly the same as I’d done it – except for letting Maya go alone at the auction house. That, I knew, was my greatest failure, and saving her was the one broken promise that hurt the most.


    Then, just as the knights’ attacks were about to land on me, a dark figure  appeared in front of me, blocking out the bright lights of their Artes and spears.


    A kind face smiled down on me, reaching a hand out to gently touch my face. And then everything went black.