Chapter 1: Born in the Chaos of War


    The night sky burned crimson. Fires raged beyond the grand walls of House Vartos, the once-impenetrable fortress of Vaelgard’s deadliest family. War horns of Draethis howled through the darkness, their soldiers tearing through the capital like a relentless storm.


    The Vartos family was no ordinary noble house. They were an Archduke family, bound by secrecy and feared across the continent. Whispers of their existence were enough to make kings tremble. Their assassins moved like shadows, unseen and unstoppable, striking with the precision of a god’s wrath. It was said that no army, no kingdom, could stand against them.


    And yet, they had fallen.


    Inside the towering mansion, past bloodstained corridors and shattered doors, a newborn’s cry pierced the air. Vael Atrius had been born in war.


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    His mother, pale and drenched in sweat, cradled him against her chest. Her hands trembled—not from fear, but from exhaustion. The war had reached their doorstep, and there would be no escape. Beside her, Zarek Vartos, the greatest assassin in the history of their bloodline, stood motionless, listening. He could hear it all—the clash of steel, the death screams of his kin, the betrayal that had led them here.


    Their own cousins had turned against them. Traitors. They had sold the family’s secrets to Draethis, guiding the enemy’s blade straight to their throats.


    Zarek’s grip tightened around his daggers. He had never feared death. But he could not allow his son to die here.


    Thunder rumbled—no, not thunder. The fortress was collapsing.


    "Take him," his mother whispered, pressing Vael into the arms of a cloaked servant. Her voice was steady despite the agony in her eyes. "No matter what happens, protect him. Hide him. He must survive."


    Zarek turned to the servant, his golden eyes burning like dying embers. "If you fail—there is no place in this world where you can hide from me, even in death."


    The doors burst open.


    Draethis warriors stormed in.


    Vael Atrius was carried away, his cries swallowed by the roar of battle. His mother’s final whisper faded behind him.


    "Live, my son. Live, and remember who you are."


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