《The chronicles of Ellipta》


 Chapter 1

    In a small kingdom, confined to the northern edge of the continent, a distinguished gathering prepares to crown a young prince.


    "It¡¯s finally time," he thought to himself in front of a large wooden door. After offering himself a few words of encouragement, he signaled the guard to open it. A cold wind engulfed him as he entered the church.


    All the seats were occupied, and a religious atmosphere permeated the place. The young man finished his walk in front of an old man dressed in white. The young prince knelt, hands bound in prayer. After a few seconds of silence, the old man began a religious chant, followed by the other clergymen. The guests started applauding, and the sound echoed in the once-quiet stone building.


    After the nobles¡¯ praises, the bishop continued the ceremony. A priest approached the prelate, holding a cushion on which rested a simple crown made of steel with a few touches of gold. The ecclesiastic gently took the crown and began speaking in a hoarse voice, impressive for his old age.


    "Prince Henry of Relvar, descendant of Cadomar the Lion, I crown you by the grace and benevolence of Seraphim, sovereign of the Kingdom of Ellipta," he proclaimed ceremonially.


    The audience applauded again as Henry was crowned.


    "It¡¯s heavy," he thought.


    Henry stood up, placed a hand on the Seraphica, a sacred book, and, as per protocol, addressed the assembly.


    "Nobles of Ellipta, I, Henry of Relvar, now your king, order you to recognize me as your rightful sovereign," and the crowd shouted in unison, "Long live Henry III of Relvar, our one and only king!" followed by a few "Long live the king." Henry had become the King of Ellipta.


    After his coronation, Henry left the church, accompanied by the most prominent aristocrats of the kingdom, toward the royal castle. This march was a tradition, allowing the people to admire the new king. As Henry walked through the streets, he saw his subjects, eager to catch a glimpse of his prestigious person, pushing against the guards. The buildings were covered in snow, and they were particularly old, made of stone with thatched roofs.


    Once the procession ended and the assembly reunited at the castle, a dinner awaited them. Small appetizers and digestifs were available.


    Henry felt uncomfortable, unaccustomed to such social events. He merely sipped his drink and nibbled on the buffet.


    Suddenly, a man approached confidently. He was slightly shorter than Henry and didn¡¯t hide his portly figure.


    "Lord Henry, I wanted to have a word with you. Why haven¡¯t we crowned a queen along with you?" he exclaimed mockingly.


    Henry couldn¡¯t hide his discomfort, and sweat dripped from his face as he stammered,


    "It¡¯s... it¡¯s for diplomacy. I¡¯m keeping the continent¡¯s princesses in suspense," he said, trying to adopt a playful tone but failing awkwardly.


    "That must be it, Your Highness. You must have learned this revolutionary diplomatic technique during your studies at Balrac, I suppose," the man sneered sarcastically.


    Henry, unsure of what to say, laughed nervously.


    "Oh yes, Balrac is truly ahead of us in many ways. For instance, I hear many intellectuals and high society folks have adopted particular diets, mainly white meat and steamed vegetables. I think I¡¯ll introduce it in Ellipta¡ªsome could really use it," he added, glancing at the man¡¯s protruding belly.


    The man blushed and tried to mumble something.


    "Come now, Your Highness, leave the viscount alone. We both know that the aristocrats of the Empire are as fat as pigs. Embarrassing your guests is quite impolite," said Duke Veter, a well-built man in his forties.


    Henry responded with a sheepish look. "Yes, Duke, my apologies, Viscount, for my rudeness."


    "I¡¯ll take my leave now, Duke, Your Highness."


    He didn¡¯t even accept my apologies, Henry thought.


    "Don¡¯t worry, Your Highness. I know that Viscount Montclair can be truly irritating, but he wasn¡¯t wrong on this occasion. The kingdom cannot survive without an heir. Right now, only your elder brother can inherit the crown," Veter said in a fatherly tone, placing a hand on Henry¡¯s shoulder.


    Henry had never had much success with women. During his studies, he had been placed in a university reserved for high-ranking officials of the Seraphic Church. The entire student body and faculty were men, which hadn¡¯t helped him with women. The few he did meet found him ugly and strange. Moreover, several rumors circulated about Henry, accusing him of assaulting several young women.


    In a sorrowful tone, Henry replied,


    "Yes, I know, Duke. I will endeavor to find a good match. Don¡¯t worry about the kingdom¡¯s future."


    Veter gave a small, barely concealed smile.


    "Speaking of good matches, my¡­cough, cough... daughter is single. She¡¯s turning 17 soon. If by chance you¡¯re interested, she¡¯s over there," the duke discreetly pointed to a young brunette woman with an ample bosom.


    "Haha, Duke Veter, let¡¯s be serious, please. Your daughter is certainly beautiful, but between you and me, we both know she probably already has someone¡­" (Henry realized the stupidity of his words) "uh, I mean, well¡­"


    The Duke interrupted Henry, raising a hand, then leaned toward his ear. (whispering)


    "Don¡¯t worry, I can assure you, no man has ever touched Anna."


    The Duke straightened up, thanked Henry for the conversation, and left.


    "I was stunned, it was that simple. Thank you, arranged marriages, thank you, Veter," Henry thought, barely able to hide his excitement, as he headed toward the young woman.


    As I think back to all those harlots who looked down on me, that era is over. Calm down, Henry, don¡¯t count your chickens before they hatch. For all I know, the Duke¡¯s daughter could be an impotent fool. What am I saying? Even if she were the stupidest, most naive woman in the world, I wouldn¡¯t pass her up¡­ Well, maybe afterward, in a more private setting," he thought.


    The closer Henry got to the young woman, the more his excitement grew. He found himself standing before her.


    She wore a modest outfit, a black dress that fell to her ankles with a few pieces of jewelry. She charmed all the young men at the gathering with her natural beauty. Her scent was akin to the sea at sunset.


    "Congratulations, Your Highness, on your coronation."


    Her breasts jiggled slightly as she curtsied before me, and those delicious nipples could almost be seen through her clothes.


    "Thank you. May I ask your name?" Henry replied, feigning nonchalance.


    Blushing slightly, she looked Henry straight in the eyes and said, "My name is Anna, Your Highness, Anna Veter," she replied with pride.


    "I¡¯m honored to meet a member of the illustrious Veter family and even more so a ravishing young woman like yourself," Henry said, trying to be as charming as possible.


    Anna stiffened for a few seconds, then glanced at Henry¡¯s glass and asked,


    "Are you a wine connoisseur?" she returned to her usual demeanor, though slightly more flustered.


    She changed the subject.


    "Yes, I know a bit about it. In the Empire, I took oenology classes, and let¡¯s just say I did quite well," he said, still nonchalant.


    I¡¯ve never taken such classes, and I wasn¡¯t very good at university either. In fact, I was mediocre in almost all subjects except horseback riding and religious ethics.


    "Really? What region is this wine from?" she asked, intrigued.


    As surprising as it may seem, I know this wine. It¡¯s the cheapest around, barely drinkable, but it has the advantage of having a fancy name.


    "Simple, it¡¯s aComte Domaine des Ch¨ºnesfrom the Kingdom of Castelle Bourg," he said, trying to sound knowledgeable.


    "Bet you didn¡¯t see that coming, did you?"


    "Impressive, Your Majesty. How many more talents do you hide?" she said, with undisguised admiration.


    "A multitude, Anna. I¡¯m a genius," he said, lifting his glass sarcastically.


    "I heard from a bard that sarcasm is very useful for charming ladies. I hope he wasn¡¯t lying. So far, I think I¡¯m on the right track for Anna to warm my bed tonight."


    Anna giggled, a little embarrassed.


    "And you, Anna, what are your hobbies? Personally, I¡¯m quite the master with a sword in hand. At Balrac, they used to call me the Monster of Ellipta."


    Once again, that¡¯s a lie. I¡¯m atrociously bad with a sword. They did call me the Monster, but it was because of my guttural screams during combat.


    "Oh really, that much, Your Majesty? I hope you¡¯ll grant me the honor of a duel one day. As for my hobbies..."


    Suddenly, a man slightly older than Anna grabbed her by the arm.


    "Anna, I¡¯ve been looking for you everywhere. The Marquis Eldorien has challenged Father to a duel. That bastard Eldorien is taking advantage of the coronation to seize the County of Lysombre," he said, panicking.


    "Oh no, excuse me, Your Majesty, we¡¯ll have to finish this conversation later." Despite her apology, she bore a faint smile, barely hidden behind her panic.


    "Don¡¯t worry, let¡¯s see what¡¯s happening," Henry replied, following her to avoid losing her in the evening crowd.


    The Veter and Eldorien families had been feuding for several years over the County of Lysombre, which had been vacant for four years. Both families were cousins of House Lysondre. The conflict had worsened due to my father¡¯s inaction. Today, both families laid claim to the county, which had fallen into anarchy and decay.


    Some minor noblemen followed us, likely eager to witness members of the highest families fight like dogs, thirsting for blood and eager to see their superiors fall so they could grab whatever crumbs they could get, Henry thought, descending the stairs toward the outer courtyard.


    It was cold, very cold. Snow covered the courtyard floor. I saw the Marquis and my soon-to-be father-in-law. Great.


    Lost in his lascivious thoughts, Henry didn¡¯t notice the drool forming at the corner of his mouth.


    The Duke saw me and approached.


    "Your Majesty, you¡¯ve arrived just in time. The Marquis is throwing yet another tantrum, pushing the limits of decency, ridiculousness, and falsehood."


    "What are you saying, you Veter dog? The one who pushes the limits of the unspeakable is you, son of a whore, child killer, and descendant of the devil," the Marquis screamed angrily.


    The Marquis was a tall and well-built man, but the weight of age showed on his face, though it was flushed with rage.


    "Enough, Marquis. Look at yourself, right now you¡¯re neither a nobleman nor a knight. You¡¯re no better than an animal," the Duke retorted.


    Well said, father-in-law. That¡¯s what we like to see, put this fool in his place, Henry thought smugly.


    Veter was a man in his forties, renowned for his remarkable swordsmanship and unwavering piety. He also happened to be my future father-in-law.


    "Your Majesty, may I ask for your permission to engage in a duel with the Marquis, to cleanse our honor tarnished by House Eldorien?" asked Duke Veter.


    "Of course, on one condition: I will stop the fight at any moment. I wouldn¡¯t want my father-in-law to be killed. Anna wouldn¡¯t bear it, and I couldn¡¯t look our future children in the eyes knowing I let their grandfather be killed before me."


    "That¡¯s acceptable," replied the Duke.


    "I don¡¯t care about the conditions, as long as I can smash your rat face in," the Marquis retorted angrily.


    After the combatants donned armor and the arena was hastily set up, the duel could begin.


    Henry found himself outside the makeshift arena but positioned in the center of the two men so that he could halt the fight at any moment. The nobles surrounded the fence like ants around a drop of water.


    I think this is the moment to say a prayer for the Duke, to our merciful and benevolent Lord Seraphim, Henry thought, closing his eyes and clasping his hands.


    "Our Lord Seraphim, hallowed be your name, please grant that my father-in-law wins the duel¡ªor at least, if he loses, that Anna seeks comfort on my strong chest and takes care of my royal member."


    After finishing his prayer, Henry shouted in as deep and noble a voice as he could muster.


    "Let the duel of honor commence, Lord Veter, Lord Eldorien¡ªFIGHT!"


    Despite Henry¡¯s intentions, his voice trembled, making him sound like a prepubescent boy yelling.


    The two men moved, but neither attacked immediately. They studied each other, watching for their opponent¡¯s slightest move, trying to exploit any weakness.


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


    "I¡¯m going to rip out your balls and make a necklace out of them, gut you like the pig you are, you¡¯ll suffer as much as my son did," the Marquis growled, still seething with rage.


    "What a poet you are, Marquis. Perhaps you should consider... OOFF."


    The Marquis lunged at Guillaume, tackling him to the ground, raining down blows with his shield and striking him with the pommel of his sword. Guillaume barely managed to wriggle free, struggling under the imposing Marquis.


    No, no, no, not like this. What will Anna say? Henry glanced over at Anna, who looked deeply worried for her father.


    I should try to reassure her.


    Henry discreetly grabbed Anna¡¯s hand. She was startled and momentarily distracted from the fight. She looked at Henry, puzzled.


    "Don¡¯t worry, Anna. He¡¯ll win¡ªno, hemustwin," he whispered, trying to give her hope.


    Anna, astonished, opened her mouth, but...


    "Shh, don¡¯t say anything," Henry said, putting his finger to his mouth. Unfortunately, he misjudged the movement, and his finger ended up under her upper lip.


    Oops, Henry thought, pulling his finger away.


    To Henry¡¯s surprise, she rested her head on his shoulder and gripped his hand tightly.


    Tonight¡¯s in the bag... ouch, my hand, this girl¡¯s got a grip, Henry thought.


    Back in the arena, after escaping the Marquis, Guillaume had retreated to the edge of the field. The Marquis had taken the initiative, and Guillaume was merely deflecting and parrying the Eldorien¡¯s attacks without retaliating. Blow after blow, he gave up ground, inch by inch, until Guillaume reversed his sword, grasped it by the blade, and struck the Marquis¡¯s helmet with the hilt, like a hammer. The Marquis¡¯s helmet was dented by the impact, and blood seeped from both combatants'' orifices.


    Dazed, the Marquis staggered back, retreating, losing the ground he had fought so hard to gain. He walked like a drunken man, trying to counterattack like an old, limping dog fighting a young wolf.


    The last efforts of the old man were in vain. He collapsed, his armor covered in blood.


    "Guillaume Veter has won!" Henry shouted, this time with a deeper, more confident tone.


    The Veter family, along with a good portion of the present nobles, rejoiced and congratulated Guillaume.


    Anna looked at Guillaume with a broad smile and extended her hand.


    "Thank you, Your Highness, for your support. I will not forget this, rest assured," she said gratefully.


    Anna left to join her father.


    "Thank you, Lord Seraphim... Finally, she let go of my hand. I would never have thought such a young woman could be so strong. Thankfully, it didn¡¯t last any longer¡ªmy poor hand," Henry sighed.


    The Marquis lay unconscious on the ground, knocked out by the Duke¡¯s final blow. They were trying to remove his armor, which was bent and battered from the fight, just as they were with Guillaume. If the Marquis had been younger and more vigorous, the outcome of the fight might have been different.


    After a few minutes, the crowd had dispersed, many of the older nobles had retired to bed, and only Henry and the young heirs of the middle and high nobility remained.


    Henry, still uncomfortable with these types of events, hadn¡¯t spoken to anyone his age except Anna since the beginning of the evening.


    She was the only one he wanted; she was the only one who didn¡¯t judge him. After the duel, he had tried to follow her, but her brother had made it clear that this was a family event, and Henry was not invited. Roland, Anna¡¯s brother, had tried to politely, yet firmly, usher him away.


    "But who does he think he is, standing between me and Anna? I saw Anna glance at me, frustrated by her brother¡¯s behavior. Why send the king away when he''s on a noble quest to produce heirs? That man has only delayed the birth of my son, but he hasn¡¯t stopped the inevitable. One day, Anna will be mine¡ªtoday or tomorrow. And even if her brother doesn¡¯t want it, her father is a shrewd strategist, and he has found the best man for his daughter," Henry thought, wandering for a few minutes through the stone corridors of the royal castle, still cursing Roland and muttering things like:


    "That self-righteous little brat."


    He fantasized about a world where he, defying Roland, would rescue Anna from the clutches of her terrible brother, like a gallant knight freeing the princess from the evil dragon.


    Henry had even begun drinking. He hated the taste, but he was convinced that Anna liked men who drank wine, based on their earlier conversation.


    No, it¡¯s more like he was giving himself an excuse to drink, and that was the best one he could come up with.


    He finished off the last bottle left at the party.


    He remembered that the castle had a small wine cellar just a few steps from the royal chamber, now his own chamber. He wouldn¡¯t even need to search around for more drinks. He just hoped that his sister hadn¡¯t stolen the room, as she had a bad habit of taking whatever belonged to him.


    When Henry approached his chamber, he was relieved to find the royal room still untouched. But he heard cries and joyous laughter coming from the stairwell leading down to the wine cellar, along with muffled conversations. Intrigued, Henry descended the stairs, and the noises grew clearer.


    "Bloody hell, some bastards are squatting in my cellar, an inheritance from my father. There are wines down there that date back to the reign of Cadomare," Henry growled, preparing to throw out the assembly occupying his property.


    He carefully descended the stairs until he found himself standing before...


    A group of young heirs from various noble houses, sitting in a circle with a few empty bottles around them. They all turned to Henry, surprised by his presence.


    "So these are the rats who have been guzzling MY wine all evening... Wait, but there¡¯s Anna and her brother. Hahahaha, see, you little brat, you can¡¯t stop love. Push away the inevitable, and it will still come back to bite you," Henry chuckled inwardly.


    Roland stood up and said:


    "Your Majesty, you¡¯re just in time. Come, there¡¯s a place right next to my sister."


    Laughter, silly banter, a few drinking games, the strong smell of sweat, and stupidity in its purest form.


    This is everything I hate. I had distanced myself from these kinds of parties and these fake friends in the Empire, and now here I am enduring them in my own kingdom. But it¡¯s all worth it if it lets me spend even a second more with Anna.


    The group was made up of teenagers and young adults. Henry was the oldest of the group, which only heightened his discomfort. If he weren¡¯t a noble, and if Anna weren¡¯t there, they would have kicked him out.


    A bottle was spinning in the center of the adolescents. It spun and spun until it stopped in front of a young boy, barely 14 years old.


    Everyone giggled like hyenas.


    A girl began to speak.


    "So, Fr¨¦d¨¦rique, truth or dare?"


    This woman is hideously ugly, and she has shoulders like an ox.


    "They''re actually playing this, and in front of me, no less, in front of their king, who has probably just crowned their future ministers, and here they are playing this brainless game. I am the last king of Ellipta¡ªthis youth is doomed," Henry thought, half-drunk.


    "I¡¯ll say truth," the boy replied, a little embarrassed.


    In a shrill voice, the girl responded, "You¡¯re not taking any risks. Alright, what¡¯s your biggest secret?"


    "Uh, one of our maids... is pregnant with my child."


    "WHAT? BUT WHAT? BUT HOW? BUT WHY?" Henry shouted, completely flabbergasted.


    "Well, uh, Your Highness, I don¡¯t need to paint you a picture. It was a gift from my mother and..."


    "FROM YOUR MOTHER? A GIFT?" Henry yelled even louder.


    "THIS LITTLE BRAT. HE¡¯S BEEN DOING IT, AND IT WAS A GIFT. Calm down, he¡¯s only 14. But precisely, he¡¯s 14! I¡¯m 23 and haven¡¯t even touched a breast," Henry thought, feeling both angry and miserable.


    "Calm down, Your Highness, you¡¯ll wake the entire castle," Roland interjected.


    "Officially, Fr¨¦d¨¦rique, I may not have ¡®touched the biscuit,¡¯ but I¡¯m your king. I¡¯ll make your life a living hell. You have become my rival, my nemesis. I am yin, you are yang. The fact that you¡¯re 10 years younger than me changes nothing," Henry thought provocatively.


    "But, Your Highness, you¡¯re not going to pretend you¡¯re a saint," said Fr¨¦d¨¦rique, curious.


    "What do you mean?" Henry asked, puzzled.


    "Well, during your studies, we received complaints from women every two weeks," Roland chimed in.


    "Which women?"


    Henry had a flashback. He remembered all the girls he had tried to court.


    In an episcopal school, encountering a female was so rare. I didn¡¯t want to miss any opportunity, and in my memory, sure, they ran away and screamed whenever they saw me, but I don¡¯t think they hated me.


    "Sometimes it was noblewomen or bourgeois girls. Oh yeah, one time we received a complaint from a father because you had hugged his daughter."


    "Just hugged? That doesn¡¯t sound too bad," Fr¨¦d¨¦rique replied.


    "She was 9 years old."


    Everyone gasped in astonishment.


    "It¡¯s out of context. Stop it. She huggedme."


    I was crying in the hallways when this little girl appeared out of nowhere and hugged me.


    "Haha, I didn¡¯t know you were like that, Your Highness," Fr¨¦d¨¦rique laughed.


    "I didn¡¯t know your conquests came straight from the cradle," Anna snickered.


    "Come on, tell us, Lord Relvar, how many do you have?" said a boy, excited.


    "Of what?"


    "Well, illegitimate children. With all this, you must have a few hidden away. I mean, Fr¨¦d¨¦rique may have surprised us because he¡¯s still very young to be a father, but you, you have quite a reputation."


    "What, a reputation? Have they completely lost it? I¡¯ve been trying for 10 years. What kind of opinion do they have of me?"


    "Mmm, I think I have three," Henry said, trying to appear pensive and mysterious.


    "I knew it! You had so many that you aren¡¯t even sure anymore."


    "And what about you, Roland? How many?" Fr¨¦d¨¦rique asked curiously.


    "For me, my second is on the way. His mother is a serf from the family estate."


    "Argh, you men, can¡¯t you just control yourselves seriously? Not a single one here doesn¡¯t have a bastard in every village of their estate," the ugly woman said with a disdainful air.


    "Don¡¯t play the saint with us, Corinne. Of the women in this room, you¡¯re the least legitimate. You¡¯ve probably been ridden more than a horse," Roland retorted.


    It¡¯s true I¡¯ve had a few adventures, and compared to His Highness, Sophia, or Anna, I¡¯m neither pure nor innocent. But don¡¯t compare me to a horse!" Corinne snapped.


    The fact that someone as hideous as her has had more relationships than me is beyond belief, Henry thought, growing more frustrated.


    Anna blushed deeply, embarrassed by Corinne¡¯s remarks.


    The group began to argue, exchanging insults and a few light curses, but all in good spirits, like old friends reunited after a long absence.


    "They¡¯re a bit stupid, aren¡¯t they?" Anna whispered to Henry, while a commotion surrounded them.


    "Virgins are the best, haha!" shouted Fr¨¦d¨¦rique, now shirtless, completely drunk, with a bottle in each hand.


    "Go, Fred! That¡¯s my boy!" Roland cheered, equally intoxicated.


    "Guys, stop, you¡¯re going to start again," Anna said, trying to hide her amused smile.


    "No, they¡¯re completely normal, maybe even too normal," Henry replied sarcastically to Anna.


    "You¡¯re right, life is boring with them," Anna smiled.


    "Got any ideas on how to stop them?" Henry asked.


    "Sometimes I wait for them to fall asleep, or I shout really loud, but that kills the mood."


    While they were talking, Corinne, who was tall and very strong, grabbed the frail Fr¨¦d¨¦rique by the waist and threw him onto Roland.


    "Are they crazy?" Henry said, wide-eyed.


    "You clearly don¡¯t know them," Anna replied, resigned.


    "Are they enraged?" Henry asked.


    "No, they¡¯re just getting warmed up," Anna sighed.


    Roland threw Fred back at Corinne, and Corinne launched him like a ball in a tennis match.


    "Okay, now I understand," Henry said.


    Anna stood up. "ALRIGHT, YOU IDIOTS, STOP IT!" she shouted.


    "I love this woman," Henry thought.


    Fr¨¦d¨¦rique collapsed to the floor as Roland was distracted by Anna¡¯s shout. Poor Fr¨¦d¨¦rique had passed out a while ago, unconscious on the ground, vomiting as everyone else ignored him.


    Henry felt a surge of satisfaction seeing the boy in such a state, a smirk forming on his face.


    "That¡¯s right, you little brat, stay in your place. This is your punishment for tasting the forbidden fruit."


    Then Henry had an idea. "How about a drinking game from the Empire?" he asked, a mischievous grin on his face.


    Some time later...


    "Come on, my king!" Roland shouted.


    "I know you can do it, Henry," Anna encouraged.


    "Oh my God, this is not human," Corinne said, shielding her eyes in fear.


    Fred, convulsing in a corner of the room, foamed at the mouth.


    Henry finished the bottle, struggling but determined, and shouted, "Who dares challenge me, the great king of Ellipta?"


    Anna knelt down. "Oh, Your Highness, may I propose a duel?" she asked, her voice slightly slurred with alcohol.


    "So be it, damsel. But every duel needs a witness," Roland pointed out. "You¡¯ll be the witness."


    "Very well, Your Highness, I¡¯ll fetch the bottles," Roland, unsteady on his feet, staggered but managed to return with two large, dusty bottles marked with a large "C."


    "So, are you giving up, little king?" Anna teased.


    "Never, woman!" Henry grabbed one of the bottles and brought it to his lips. The taste was dry and strong, like drinking fire. He took the bottle away from his mouth, then back again in a back-and-forth motion.


    Anna, on the other hand, was pouring herself glasses. The bottle was so large that Henry had to take longer and longer pauses, while Anna, without stopping, kept drinking glass after glass like a seasoned drunk in a dingy bar.


    The gap widened, the cheers and shouts of encouragement grew louder. Drops of sweat formed on Henry¡¯s face. He felt like his skull was doubling in size, but he finished the bottle and looked at Anna, who still held a full glass in her hand.


    "I win," he declared.


    Then a black veil fell over Henry¡¯s eyes, like a theater curtain after a performance. A few bright points pierced the darkness, but it was impossible to open his eyes or even think, as if falling into a dreamless sleep.


    He could still hear voices and indistinct noises, but he couldn¡¯t recognize them.


    "Your Highness, please, my king, wake up!"


    It was Roland, shaking Henry¡¯s shoulder.


    "What¡¯s happening? I... feel awful, no way, I¡¯m never doing this again," Henry groaned before noticing Anna lying next to him, using his arm as a pillow.


    Seeing Henry¡¯s expression, Roland said, "That¡¯s why I wanted to wake you," he whispered.


    "So this is paradise," Henry mumbled sleepily.


    "Don¡¯t be ridiculous, Your Highness, get up, you lazy lump," Roland said, shaking Anna harder.


    Roland shook his sister more and more violently, but she only responded with muffled groans.


    Henry noticed a strong odor in the room and then realized that Fr¨¦d¨¦rique hadn¡¯t moved from his spot in the corner, still covered in various fluids and filth, foaming at the mouth.


    "Actually, I take back what I said¡ªthis is... horrible. Sorry, Fred, I hope you¡¯re not dead."


    As if in response, Fred began trembling violently.


    "I¡¯m not sure if that¡¯s reassuring. We should leave before we¡¯re caught looking like a bunch of drunks. If Fred¡¯s the only one left, it¡¯s not a big deal. Help me carry my sister."


    "Alright, I¡¯ll take her shoulders, and you grab her legs," the two men picked up the young woman and headed for the stairs.


    Henry glanced back at his wine cellar with a pang of regret. Not only had it shrunk in size, but now it was filthy: bottles and vomit littered the floor, and a man in his underwear, covered in various fluids, might be dying inside. "Poor cellar, I¡¯ll send the maids to clean you up," Henry thought.


    As Henry and Roland carried Anna, her dress got caught and ripped; an old chandelier was to blame. The dress was torn from the waist down to her ankles.


    "It¡¯s fine, let¡¯s keep going, she¡¯ll survive," Roland said, annoyed.


    "Okay," Henry responded, still feeling queasy.


    Once they were out of the staircase, Henry noticed the sun beginning to rise.


    "Where do we put her, Roland?" Henry asked.


    "If you don¡¯t mind, Your Highness, in your chamber. It¡¯s the closest, and no one would dare disturb the king after his coronation."


    "Anna will be in my room. I would have preferred it without her brother... and with her conscious."


    "I don¡¯t mind," Roland said, opening the royal chamber door.


    Henry and Roland laid Anna down on the bed.


    "Well, I think it¡¯s time, Roland," Henry said, his tone shifting from mildly drunk to fully sober.


    Roland grabbed two decorative swords from the wall and tossed one to Henry.


    "Be ready, Your Highness."


    Henry clumsily caught the sword, bewildered by Roland¡¯s sudden change in demeanor.


    "Hold on a second, Anna," Roland said. "Take off the top."


    "What? Are you crazy? In front of him?" Anna exclaimed.


    "You¡¯ll do it, and that¡¯s final. It¡¯s what Father wanted, and don¡¯t forget the drops."


    "You¡¯re telling me this is some kind of Veter family ritual? I have to fight you, Roland, to earn the right to be with Anna? If that¡¯s what the Duke wanted, fine. But this seems barbaric," Henry asked, confused.


    "Make him shut up already, this fool," Anna spat angrily. "I¡¯ve wanted to strangle him since yesterday," she added while putting eye drops in.


    Without warning, Roland lunged at Henry, swinging the decorative sword. Henry barely managed to react, as Anna began screaming and crying uncontrollably like a child.


    "What¡¯s going on, Roland? Why? I don¡¯t understand anything," Henry shouted, panicking.


    "Shut up, you disgusting violator!" Roland snapped back.


    "Violator? But I haven¡¯t..." Henry glanced at Anna, who was now sitting on the bed, her makeup smeared, clothes torn, crying uncontrollably.


    Suddenly, Henry realized the terrible truth¡ªhe had fallen into a honeytrap.


    "TRAITORS! I¡¯LL KILL YOU BOTH!" Henry roared, now enraged, and began to clumsily defend himself.


    "HELP! GUARDS! The king has lost his mind!" Roland shouted, deliberately provoking him.


    It was Henry¡¯s first real fight. Though he was unskilled, his blind fury fueled his attacks, surprising even himself. Roland, caught off guard, fell to the floor as Henry kept striking, a wild look in his eyes. Meanwhile, Anna screamed even louder, her shrieks filling the room.


    The stress, adrenaline, and chaos all mixed in Henry¡¯s mind. Without thinking, he swung again and again, every strike driven by betrayal and anger. Just as he was about to land a final blow on Roland, the door burst open.

 Chapter 2

    "Attempting to violate Veter¡¯s daughter... you¡¯ve really lost it, Henry. Mom must have rocked you too close to the wall, there¡¯s no other explanation!" Sophia shouted.


    Henry paced back and forth between the four walls of his room.


    "It was a setup, Sophia. Those Veter scum tricked me. The moment I get a chance, I¡¯m going to wipe them out!" Henry replied, stressed.


    Sophia slapped him so hard that Henry felt like his jaw was coming unhinged.


    "Are you insane? That hurts like hell!" Henry mumbled.


    "Shut up! Is it really that hard to stop thinking with your crotch? On the first day of your reign, you try to violate a noblewoman? You¡¯re nothing but a lecherous pig! Please, Henry, just apologize to the girl!" Sophia said, tears in her eyes.


    "Apologize for a crime I didn¡¯t commit? That bastard planned everything from the beginning, believe me, Sophia, I swear..." Henry said.


    "You haven¡¯t changed. Even after five years, you¡¯re still blaming your mistakes on some greater force supposedly manipulating you," Sophia said, looking at him with disdain.


    Henry tried to reply, but no words came out. He stood there, mouth open, like a dead fish.


    "Couldn¡¯t you, just once, stop thinking only about yourself? By touching that girl, you¡¯ve fallen, but you¡¯ve also dragged me down with you," Sophia said, her voice trembling, her face pale.


    She slammed the door and left.


    Henry lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "I didn¡¯t know you could win everything in one day and lose it all the next. Now I understand your choice, Isaac..."


    Somewhere in the Principality of Kholm.


    Isaac was nibbling on a piece of stale bread, casually dipping it in his soup. It had been days since he and his group had been roaming the countryside, passing through towns and villages.


    "Looks like a goblin took a dump in my stew," an ex-soldier complained.


    "Shut up and eat," replied a grizzled old man.


    The group had been traveling for a month. Famine was starting to set in, and the men were reduced to eating their horses. Today, they were down to their last rations.


    Suddenly, a man emerged from the forest edge, sprinting toward where the captain of the guard and the prince were eating. Panting, he struggled to deliver his message.


    "Cap¡¯n... (inhale) a village... (exhale)" he said, exhausted but excited.


    "Come now, calm down and catch your breath."


    The man took a few minutes to steady his breathing.


    "We¡¯ve spotted several villages. The villagers assured me they weren¡¯t Elliptans," the man said, joyfully.


    "That means we¡¯ve crossed the border into the Principality of Kholm?"


    "Really? Tell the men to get ready."


    Isaac tossed his bowl of gruel aside with disdain. "No more rotten rations; we¡¯re no longer in Ellipta."


    "My prince?"


    "What is it, captain?"


    "After so long with forced marches and deprivation, I fear I can no longer keep the men in check," the old man said, worried.


    "That¡¯s not a problem. No one cares about isolated villages. Besides, the men¡¯s morale is at an all-time low. I can¡¯t refuse them a little reward after crossing the entire kingdom."


    "Very well, Your Highness."


    Isaac returned to his tent to prepare for the raid.


    "I don¡¯t want to look like a beggar, even during a pillage. It¡¯s important to maintain appearances. These royal guards tend to forget who¡¯s in charge. It¡¯s good to remind them¡ªsometimes with a little reward, sometimes with a firm hand."


    Isaac looked at himself in a pocket mirror. Despite his greasy hair and pale complexion, the young man had a certain beauty. It wasn¡¯t exceptional, but combined with his royal blood, it made him rather attractive.


    Putting on his plate armor and gambeson, Isaac felt that his decision to leave the Royal Palace had been the right one. He¡¯d rather die free than become a puppet king. He had passed the burden onto his brother.


    The captain of the guard entered the tent.


    "Your Highness, the men are ready. They¡¯re just waiting for you."


    "Very well, Albert, I¡¯ll be right out."


    Stepping out of the tent, Isaac saw his men standing in tight formation, armed and with the royal crests removed from their shields.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    "They¡¯re still soldiers, after all," he muttered, observing their discipline.


    Royal Palace, Veter¡¯s chambers


    "That was easier than expected," Roland boasted.


    "The plan wasn¡¯t followed at all. It was a fiasco from start to finish. We only managed to improvise because he¡¯s an absolute fool. If the marquis hadn¡¯t put on his show, we could have humiliated him in front of everyone. Instead, only a few guards caught him, and some nobles are still skeptical. And you couldn¡¯t resist drinking, even during such an important operation!" another man retorted.


    "Stop dramatizing. Father said it wouldn¡¯t have major consequences. Besides, if I recall correctly, it¡¯s thanks to my impromptu party that it worked."


    "I almost vomited getting up to set the scene."


    "But it worked nonetheless. That little king dances in the palm of our hand. Honestly, I¡¯ve rarely had so much contempt for someone."


    "You¡¯re only saying that because he fancied me. Come on, you know it was all an act," Anna said in a sultry voice.


    "Yeah, cut it out, Anna. I¡¯m not some noble in need of attention," Roland said, irritated, as he got out of bed.


    "I¡¯ve never heard anything so false. Should I remind you who was warming my bed last night?"


    "Shut up," he replied, dressing nonchalantly.


    "Hey, where are you going?"


    "For a walk in town. I¡¯m going mad in this castle."


    "When you¡¯re done buying your alcohol, could you get me some honey candies? There¡¯s a confectionery near the port, I¡¯ve heard they¡¯re delicious."


    "Honey candies? Fine."


    "Great, thanks, big brother." Anna slipped out from under the covers, revealing her frail, snow-white body, contrasting with her long black hair.


    Roland left the room before his instincts took over, making his way through the castle, greeting the guards as he headed toward the city. The town was bustling, and rumors about the king¡¯s attempted assault on the Veter girl spread like wildfire.


    "Did you hear about Veter¡¯s daughter?"


    "Yeah, I¡¯m not surprised. He already had that reputation in the empire."


    "What¡¯s going to happen to him? He¡¯s the king, after all."


    "He¡¯s just a spare. Prince Isaac would never have done that."


    The conversations buzzed in the taverns and shops. It had become the capital¡¯s gossip. People laughed more than they were outraged, but it still weakened the royal family. Between a fugitive and a pervert, the royal reputation wasn¡¯t looking good. Only the third prince remained untainted by rumors.


    Roland stopped at the port, the smell of the sea tickling his cold nostrils. Fishermen were unloading their catch, trying to stock up before the sea froze.


    Roland approached a sailor, a burly, round man whose face was marked by years of life at sea.


    "Have you seen the One-Eyed?"


    "The One-Eyed? His ship has left, but he left you a gift," the man replied with a thick accent, pointing to a small box nearby.


    It was the code used by smugglers. Roland opened the box. Inside was a red vial.


    A heavy, calloused hand rested on his shoulder.


    "Excuse me, sir. The One-Eyed also asked me to give you this. He said it was a gift from the house."


    "A gift? That¡¯s not like the One-Eyed," Roland said, puzzled.


    "I¡¯m not in the boss¡¯s head, sir," the man replied, handing a small burlap sack to Roland.


    "Good day, sir."


    "Yeah, good day to you," Roland replied, walking away with a haughty air.


    "The vial cost me a fortune, but knowing the One-Eyed, it¡¯s not junk¡­ or at least, I hope not. Now, let¡¯s see what¡¯s in this burlap sack. Don¡¯t tell me he¡¯s kidnapped a member of my family to ransom my father, and this is a finger or an eye... No, I¡¯m getting carried away."


    Roland opened the sack, and his eyes widened in surprise.


    "Honey candies..."


    Royal chamber.


    For two days now, the nobles had placed him under house arrest, as if they had the authority. Once he was out of this situation, Henry promised himself he¡¯d hang Veter¡¯s head on the door of his latrine and drag his daughter through the worst brothels in the slums of his kingdom. Then he¡¯d let his entire army dishonor her. He could already imagine her begging for mercy while being forced to swallow yet another filthy peasant, squealing like a sow.


    "Your Highness?" a man knocked on the door.


    Henry, caught in the midst of his revenge fantasy, thought: Who dares interrupt me right now?


    "May I come in?" the man said, opening the door.


    A tall man with a face marked by multiple scars entered. Dressed in a plain but remarkably fine tunic, it was the Marquis Eldorien. He spoke in a deep voice:


    "Good day, my king. Rest assured, I come not as an enemy."


    "I¡¯d prefer a friend, but very well. What do you want, Marquis?"


    "I¡¯ll be more than a friend, Your Highness."


    The marquis closed the door, ensuring no one could eavesdrop, then flashed a smile, like a salesman eager to close a deal.


    "Your Highness, you¡¯re not in the best position for the start of your reign, are you? And I suspect you don¡¯t have a very high opinion of Duke Veter."


    "You think?" Henry replied sarcastically.


    "If you keep interrupting me, I¡¯ll gladly walk out and leave you to deal with this on your own, Your Highness," the marquis retorted, unfazed.


    Henry was about to snap back but hesitated. Who does this man think he is? Well, perhaps he¡¯s a high-ranking noble, after all...


    "No, go ahead, Marquis. I¡¯m all ears."


    The marquis nodded slightly, then continued:


    "I won¡¯t beat around the bush. I¡¯m here to help you. In a few days, Veter will come to you with several offers, seeking to avoid a noble trial. He¡¯ll prefer to settle this matter amicably because such a trial would be long and uncertain. In fact, his demands will likely be lowered. The holy judges are not on good terms with him."


    Intrigued, Henry raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?" he asked.


    "An old story," Eldorien said, looking pensive. "The Church once demanded that his eldest son be ordained as a monk to atone for the duke¡¯s sins. I won¡¯t pretend I had nothing to do with that; let¡¯s just say the bishop of Ellipta at the time owed me a favor. In the end, Veter had every monk tied by the testicles to a horse, saying it was unnecessary for a clergyman to possess them."


    Henry winced. "Ouch, poor men..."


    "Furthermore, Veter will try to manipulate you. He¡¯ll attempt to place the monarchy under his control by marrying his daughter to you, restoring his honor and positioning his allies in key roles."


    "So, I just have to wait and refuse all his proposals?" Henry asked, thinking he had found the solution.


    "Not quite. The Veters are known for neutralizing their political adversaries by extreme means, especially through their specialized spies. It will be obvious that it¡¯s them, and many nobles will be unhappy, but a civil war is still an option for them. The outcome is the same: control over the crown. I managed to avoid that fate thanks to a well-trained and loyal guard, but unfortunately, Prince Isaac deprived you of such an asset."


    "What do you mean by ''neutralizing''?" Henry asked, his expression hardening.


    "They lobotomize you," Eldorien replied calmly.


    Henry¡¯s eyes widened in horror at the word. "Lobotomize?"


    "Yes, they insert a wooden stick into your brain through your eye socket. After that, you spend the rest of your life as a vegetable."


    Henry swallowed hard. "Charming... And what can I do to avoid such a fate?"


    Eldorien smiled, almost amused. "Accept all their demands."


    "What?" Henry looked confused, incredulous.


    "Even better: lie down, accept your fate. Be miserable, say you prefer to enjoy your status without worrying about ruling. Come up with something like that. In exchange, ask for just one thing to restore your honor. Request a duel."

 Chapter 3

    "A duel? Be reasonable, Marquis. Veter is a veteran duelist, known throughout the kingdom. Even you can¡¯t beat him¡ªit¡¯s suicide!" Henry said in an exasperated tone.


    "On that point, I won¡¯t disagree with you. Even if you trained tirelessly until the duel, you¡¯d never be ready¡­ unless..." The Marquis Eldorien smiled even wider.


    "Unless what?" Henry asked impatiently.


    "Tell me, Your Highness, do you take drugs?" the Marquis inquired.


    "No, why do you ask?"


    "And your stomach?"


    "I won¡¯t deny that I enjoy good food."


    "Hmm, that will do." Eldorien pulled out a small box and opened it. Inside were two rings set with small amethyst stones, engraved with faintly glowing runes of a violet hue.


    Henry instantly recognized the nature of the object, even though it was the first time he had ever seen such rings.


    "An artifact?" Henry said, astonished by the object.


    "Exactly, Your Highness."


    Artifacts from the magical era were relics from another time, a tiny fraction of divine power granted to humanity. Henry was seeing before him an item so valuable that many princes and theocrats of the Holy Empire would sell their titles for such a treasure.


    "And you¡¯re presenting me with something this precious just like that, without any fanfare?"


    "What, would you prefer a little song and a shower of confetti?"


    "How did you get your hands on this?"


    "An old friend lent it to me."


    "I¡¯m afraid to ask what these¡­ rings do," Henry replied, still dumbfounded by the situation, unsure how to classify the artifact.


    The Marquis carefully picked up one of the rings. "Try it on, Your Highness."


    "Do I really have to put this on my finger? I¡¯m not going to explode or turn inside out, am I?" Henry thought, hesitating.


    The Marquis noticed Henry¡¯s reluctance. "Your Highness, this will help you... no, it will help *us* take revenge on Veter."


    "My revenge isn¡¯t worth my life, Eldorien."


    The Marquis slipped one of the rings onto his finger.


    "Who said anything about paying such a price, Your Highness?" he said in a deep, assured, almost terrifying voice.


    Henry felt compelled to put the ring on his finger.


    A whirlwind sucked Henry¡¯s mind. He felt himself stretched, like an elastic band, surrounded by hues of violet illuminating his vision. Soon, he reached the end of the tunnel.


    "Oh wow, what just happened? I thought I was going to die... but where am I?"


    Henry opened his eyes. He saw a man in refined clothing, though slightly plump, with a face that could only be described as average.


    "Did it shake you up too much, Your Highness?"


    "Wait, that voice¡­ it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s my voice... and these clothes¡­ wait, my hands¡­"


    "It¡¯s always shocking the first time."


    "Stop talking! Oh my God, it¡¯s disturbing to hear this voice¡­"


    Henry looked at his own body, intrigued but also terrified. "So this is what I look like? I thought I¡¯d look more¡­ majestic, to be honest."


    "Now you see why a duel would be in our favor."


    "You¡¯re going to control my body during the duel?" Henry smiled, filled with hope.


    "Bingo, Henry. All you have to do is sit back and enjoy a drink while I fight the Duke."


    "It¡¯s not exactly the revenge I imagined. I¡¯ll just be a spectator... but whatever, the result is the same. But wait¡­ the Duke probably won¡¯t agree to a duel to the death."


    "You plan to kill him in this duel?" Henry asked, slightly panicked.


    "That¡¯s kind of the point of our discussion, Your Highness. If it reassures you, I won¡¯t kill him with a simple sword to the gut. I¡¯ll probably cripple him, or I¡¯ll make sure he dies from a slow and painful infection. If you¡¯re afraid of being accused of his murder, we can have an assassin shoot an arrow at him once I remove his helmet. There are plenty of ways to kill him, but the opportunities¡­ those must be seized," the Marquis explained, gesturing with his hands as if listing the many ways to kill Veter.


    "Very well¡­ and how do we switch back to our bodies?"


    "It¡¯s simple, Your Highness: take off the ring, and that¡¯s it."


    Henry removed the ring, and the same whirlwind carried his mind back to his body.


    Once he was back in his own body, Henry felt a nausea that would scare even the most seasoned sailor. His head spun, and his legs wobbled like jelly. The sensation reminded him of the morning after his first drinking binge, the one that had gotten him into trouble.


    "Oh wow¡­ does it do this to you too, Eldorien?" Henry asked, his face pale, hand over his mouth.


    "It¡¯s a feeling that never goes away, even after dozens of times. You¡¯d better get used to it," the Marquis replied.


    After recovering from the dizziness, Henry noticed a hand extended toward him. He grasped the calloused hand of the Marquis.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "So, Your Highness, ready to fight?"


    In a small, remote forest village, a woman named Marie was drawing water from a well.


    "Why is it always me doing everything," she grumbled. "I swear, leaving a pregnant woman to do all the work while he just sits around¡­ I was such a fool to marry him..."


    Marie, a young peasant woman with delicate features, had always been admired in her village. Since her adolescence, she had drawn the eyes of young men, sometimes even older, married ones. After being courted endlessly, she had eventually married the blacksmith¡¯s son, hoping that he¡¯d be away often because of his work and rich enough to provide her a comfortable life. However, her husband had stayed home all winter, leaving her to manage the household tasks.


    "Oh dear God, this is heavy," she muttered as she hoisted the water bucket.


    It was early morning, and frost still covered the plants. Poachers were returning with their catches tied to their belts as the village slowly awakened from its winter slumber.


    "Good morning, Marie. Sleep well? Need a hand with that bucket?" a man called out as he passed by.


    "Shut up," she replied curtly.


    What does he want from me now? she thought. I¡¯m pregnant, that should be obvious!


    Marie made her way through the village, heading toward her house. Her hair was disheveled, and her complexion pale, but she remained strikingly beautiful. As she walked, she spotted her father, a short man with brown hair, approaching her.


    "Marie, how are you, my girl?"


    "Fine, Dad. What do you want?" she asked, a bit annoyed.


    "Nothing in particular. It¡¯s been a while since you¡¯ve come by the house. Your mother¡¯s worried. She asked me to bring you this. It¡¯s not much¡ªyou know we¡¯re not wealthy¡ªbut I think it¡¯ll make you happy," he said, pulling out a small burlap pouch.


    "Oh, Dad, you shouldn¡¯t have. That¡¯s very kind," she replied, opening the pouch.


    Inside were honey candies. Marie was a bit disappointed not to find money, but she hugged her father anyway.


    "Thanks, Dad."


    "It¡¯s nothing, but I think you¡¯ve dropped your bucket of water."


    "Oh no, not again..."


    "It¡¯s alright, give it to me. I¡¯ll fill it up for you. Go rest, this isn¡¯t work for a pregnant woman."


    "Thank you so much, Dad."


    Her father walked off, bucket in hand. Marie, not wanting to go back inside to see her husband doing nothing, sat on a chair outside the house.


    He¡¯s kind, that¡¯s not the problem, but he¡¯s smothering me. This house is suffocating...


    She popped a candy into her mouth, letting the sweetness melt.


    "Thanks, Dad," she murmured.


    A few minutes later, she saw her father returning with the bucket full. But something else caught her attention in the distance.


    "Wait, who are those people?" she whispered.


    Men in armor formed a line. Marie immediately understood that they didn¡¯t belong to the local lord¡¯s army and that they certainly hadn¡¯t come as friends.


    Her father, in the distance, realized it too and started running as fast as he could. But before he could shout a warning, an arrow pierced his heart.


    Marie turned pale, a cold sweat running down her spine. She didn¡¯t even have the strength to scream or cry, so sudden was the event. Turning to flee, she saw those same men who had just killed her father emerge from the bushes, blocking her way.


    "A woman, boys!"


    "Looks like we¡¯re lucky from the start, and she¡¯s got a pretty face too," one of the men said, smiling.


    "Wait, she¡¯s pregnant!" another pointed out.


    Marie searched for an escape route, but wherever she looked, armored soldiers were raiding houses, looting and slaughtering. Before she could react, an arrow pierced her thigh. She screamed in pain, feeling an unbearable agony shoot through her leg.


    "And so what if she¡¯s pregnant? There are three hundred of us; try finding a woman for each man in this godforsaken place! I¡¯m not going to be picky," one of the bandits said, tearing the young woman¡¯s clothes off.


    Meanwhile, Isaac strolled through the village, surveying the scene. Not a single house had been spared, and the villagers had put up no resistance. Everywhere he looked, he saw his men celebrating, drinking in the taverns as if nothing had happened, and raping women in the streets.


    "Such barbarism," Isaac murmured as he passed by a gruesome scene. "Terrible, really... but well, they shouldn¡¯t have been here. Borders are dangerous places."


    Isaac continued walking through the village, holding a handkerchief to his nose to block out the foul stench of corpses. He came across a scene where three soldiers were taking turns violating a woman, her lifeless eyes staring off into the distance, any sign of life having already left her.


    "Such animality..." Isaac murmured again, continuing on his way.


    He noticed a small burlap pouch on the ground. Picking it up, he found some honey candies inside.


    "It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve had sweets," he said with a smile. "Thank you, Seraphic Lord, for this generous offering."


    He continued walking, savoring the honey candies. Arriving in front of a house that seemed relatively untouched, he decided to enter. Inside, he found a man in his forties, fast asleep on a bed.


    "He¡¯s sleeping through all this racket?" Isaac nudged the man violently, waking him with a start.


    "Oh my god, you scared me!" the man cried, confused.


    "Get out," Isaac ordered coldly.


    "What? Who are you?"


    "Do you not see my armor, idiot? Now, get out. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve had a proper night¡¯s sleep, and I don¡¯t want to stain this bed."


    The man, terrified, stammered, "Wait¡­ wait until it¡¯s over, sir..."


    "You¡¯re so stupid, I swear!" Isaac retorted with disdain.


    Before the man could react, Isaac drove a dagger into his throat. The man gurgled as blood filled his lungs.


    "Sorry, it¡¯s nothing personal. Let¡¯s just say I¡¯m a little on edge right now. In another situation, I would¡¯ve let you go, but I can¡¯t take that risk," Isaac murmured, watching the man collapse, trying in vain to crawl away to survive.


    Isaac watched him die in silence, then returned inside the now-empty house.


    Isaac closed the door behind him, observing the house''s spartan interior. No luxury here, but it would do for the night. He lay down on the bed, letting his mind wander.


    "I¡¯ll have to avoid attracting the attention of the Prince of Kholm. In a few days, if word of the raid hasn¡¯t reached his ears, I can seize a goblin-held territory and make it my domain. After that¡­ we¡¯ll see. Building a lordship from scratch with this ragtag group won¡¯t be easy. But it¡¯s better than being under the crown¡¯s thumb, better than being a powerless king."


    His thoughts were interrupted by a noise outside. Sitting up, he heard the faint sound of a child crying, weak but persistent. Curious, he rose slowly and stepped outside. There, he saw a young boy approaching him, holding a kitchen knife clumsily. The child was trembling, but his eyes burned with rage.


    "You bastard! You killed him!" the boy screamed, charging at Isaac, attempting to stab him through the armor.


    Isaac took a step back, calmly observing the child. "Oh, you¡¯re really getting on my nerves¡­ You couldn¡¯t have just stayed out of the way, kid?"


    "You son of a bitch! You had no right to do that! Why did you kill him?!" the boy cried, tears streaming down his face as he struck uselessly against Isaac¡¯s armor.


    Isaac sighed, exasperated. "Shut up, I can¡¯t understand a word you¡¯re saying with that accent..."


    The thought of killing a child didn¡¯t sit well with Isaac, but he knew he couldn¡¯t just let the boy go. Too risky. The boy was now sobbing uncontrollably, his small fists hammering repeatedly on Isaac¡¯s armor. Snot dripped from his nose, and his cries echoed through the silent, devastated village.


    "A well-placed blow, and..." Isaac muttered to himself. But when he tried to strike, the child wasn¡¯t even knocked out. Instead, he cried even harder.


    Frustrated, Isaac grabbed the boy by the waist, hoisting him up like a sack of potatoes.


    "Quiet down, kid. I¡¯m doing this for your own good. You have no idea how many people would¡¯ve already killed you by now if they were in my shoes. This is charity, understand?"


    The boy struggled, trying to bite, scratch, and punch Isaac, but nothing worked. A few hours later, Isaac finally deposited the boy deep in the forest, far from the village.


    "See you around, kid."


    The boy, his eyes filled with tears, shouted, "I¡¯ll get my revenge, and I¡¯ll kill you, you bastard!"


    Isaac smiled, amused. "Oh yeah? I¡¯m looking forward to it, kid."


    "What¡¯s your name, asshole?"


    Isaac burst out laughing. "You really think I¡¯m going to give you my name after you just said you¡¯re going to kill me?" He paused for a moment, then added, "Listen, forget all this. Go rebuild your life. Find yourself a wife¡ªit¡¯s much better for you. But, just in case¡­"


    Isaac grabbed the boy¡¯s hand and, with a swift movement, cut off his pinky and ring finger.


    The boy let out a piercing scream, clutching his mutilated hand as blood poured from his severed fingers.


    "Why are you so surprised? You said you were going to kill me. It¡¯s only natural that I take precautions, right?" Isaac said, without the slightest hint of remorse, before turning and walking away.