Astria’s forces had launched a counterattack. The enemy, believing they had the upper hand, had walked straight into a trap.
Panic spread through Velkan’s ranks.
The commander received the news.
His face twisted in rage.
“RETREAT!”
Fury burned in his eyes as he turned toward the cell where Lucian was held.
Someone had to pay for this.
He stormed inside.
Lucian hung in the center of the room, his body a ruin of blood and bruises. His head lolled forward, strands of sweat-drenched hair sticking to his pale face.
The commander’s lips curled into a wicked grin.
"Not dead yet?"
Lucian barely moved.
"Good."
The commander gestured.
His men obeyed.
Lucian was hauled up, suspended in the air. His arms bound so tightly above him that his shoulders threatened to dislocate.
Then—the commander brought out a knife.
A cruel, gleaming thing.
He dragged it lightly over Lucian’s skin.
Not deep.
Just enough to sting.
Just enough to draw blood.
A slow, steady drip, drip, drip into a metal bucket beneath him.
Lucian’s body trembled.
The commander smiled.
Then—he brought out the hot iron rods.
The tips glowed red.
Lucian’s breath hitched.
The moment before contact was always the worst.
Then—searing agony.
The iron burned into his fresh wounds. The smell of scorched flesh filled the air.
Lucian’s screams ripped through the camp.
The sound was inhuman.
The kind of scream that shattered souls.
The kind of scream that haunted nightmares.
Even the enemy soldiers shuddered.
But the commander?
He laughed.
“Oh… now that’s the sound I wanted to hear.”
Lucian’s body shook violently, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.
His vision blurred.
His mind wavered.
Somewhere deep inside—something stirred.
The voice slithered back.
"Give in… let me take over."
Lucian gritted his teeth.
"I won’t."
But his resolve was slipping.
And the commander?
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The commander wasn’t finished yet.
The commander leaned in, his breath thick with bloodlust. The tip of his sword pressed against Lucian’s bare chest, digging in just enough to draw a thin line of blood.
“I could let you go… if you beg.”
Lucian’s eyes—hazy and unfocused—barely registered the words.
The commander smirked.
“That’s what I thought.”
Then, he drove the hot iron deeper into Lucian’s shoulder.
The sickening sizzle of burning flesh filled the air. Lucian’s screams ripped through the night, raw and agonized. The scent of charred skin clung to the damp prison walls.
Some soldiers flinched. They had seen prisoners break before. They had heard screams before.
But this was different.
Lucian should have passed out.
He should have died already.
Yet—he still breathed.
One soldier hesitated. “How is he still alive…?”
Another gulped. “That… that isn’t normal.”
Then—Lucian’s body convulsed.
His fingers twitched—then clenched into fists.
But not of his own will.
His pain was so unbearable, so overwhelming, that his mind started breaking.
His breath became erratic. His vision blurred.
His surroundings twisted.
A figure stood at the edge of the cell.
Lucian’s bloodied gaze shifted toward it.
His father.
The hallucination stepped forward, his regal robes flowing like liquid shadow. His expression was cold. Detached.
“You deserve this.”
Lucian’s breath hitched.
The commander moved again—but for a split second, it wasn’t him anymore.
It was his brother.
Novel’s smirk was sharp, cruel.
“Did you really think you were anything more than a curse?”
Lucian’s body jerked violently. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Then—everything shattered.
Lucian drifted.
The pain faded, and he was somewhere else.
A man stood before him, his hand extended.
“Come. It’s time.”
Lucian’s gaze flickered past him—there were people behind him. Familiar faces.
They were waiting and calling to him.
Lucian stepped forward—
Chains erupted from the ground.
They coiled around his wrists, his ankles, his throat.
Lucian gasped, struggling, but two more appeared for every chain he broke.
“No…” He gritted his teeth. “LET ME GO!”
The figures ahead were still waiting. Watching.
Then—something appeared behind them.
A shadow.
Lucian’s eyes widened.
The shadow ripped through them. One by one.
Screams filled the void.
Lucian fought, desperation clawing at him.
“NO! RUN!”
But none of them moved.
They fell. Lifeless.
The shadow turned to him.
It had no face—only red, burning eyes.
Lucian froze.
The shadow stepped closer. Closer. Until—
It merged with him.
A tsunami of memories crashed into his skull.
Pain. Blood. Death.
A voice slithered into his mind.
“Control it… and make it yours.”
Lucian’s breath stuttered. His hands trembled.
“I… I don’t know how.”
The voice chuckled, dark and amused.
“Then your body will break.”
Lucian’s eyes burned.
The chains around him shattered.
Lucian never woke up.
The Velkan soldiers assumed he was dead.
They tossed his body into the pit of corpses.
The News spread- the death of Lucian
The camp was silent.
A single message had shattered them all.
The captured soldier is dead.
The moment the words reached the Crown Prince, the world stopped.
Novel’s breath caught in his throat.
His hands shook.
He could not speak.
His mind refused to accept it.
Then—he staggered back, his knees buckling.
Tears fell silently.
The pain was unbearable.
Lucian was gone.
A hollow emptiness swallowed him whole.
He turned sharply, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. He stormed toward the prisoner’s cell.
James sat alone.
He had no remorse.
He was waiting for the war to end, for his freedom.
Then—the Crown Prince entered.
His voice was sharp. Cold. Unforgiving.
“Are you happy now?”
James looked up.
Novel’s eyes burned with quiet rage.
Before James could even react—
Lucy, Kane, Del, and Joe entered the cell.
Lucy’s eyes were red with tears.
“Lucian is dead,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “No… no, tell me you’re wrong. He can’t die—”
Del caught her before she collapsed.
Joe and Kane’s fury boiled over.
Joe’s hands shook as he pulled out a knife. His grip was unsteady—his knuckles white with rage.
He lunged.
Kane grabbed him just in time.
“Not like this.” Kane’s voice was raw. “Lucian wouldn’t want this.”
Joe’s breathing was ragged, his shoulders trembling.
The Crown Prince turned back to James.
For the first time—he saw it.
Lucian wasn’t alone.
There were people who loved him.
People who would cry for him.
Novel gritted his teeth. He wiped his tears before anyone could see.
Then, his voice hardened.
“Lock him away.”
The soldiers obeyed.
As they left, Novel paused—just once.
James sat motionless.
At first, he thought he didn’t care.
But then—
Tears slid down his face.
He clenched his fists, the weight of his mistake crushing him.
He had betrayed the only real friend he ever had.
And now—
Lucian was gone.