The sound of iron striking iron echoed through the courtyard like thunder rolling across the plains. The morning sun was faint, hidden behind the clouds that had been gathering for days, as if the heavens themselves hesitated to shine upon the kingdom of Logustus.
Marcus stood at the edge of the training ground, silent. His black coat fluttered in the cold wind. The soldiers avoided meeting his gaze. His presence, calm yet heavy, was enough to suffocate even the bravest among them.
Rumors had spread — of a beast in human form, a man who'd single-handedly annihilated a noble family in one night. No one dared to say his name aloud. But they all knew it.
Marcus.
A voice called out from behind him, calm and confident.
"Your sword stance is… unconventional."
Marcus turned, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly. A man in gleaming silver armor stood before him — tall, broad-shouldered, and with a presence that radiated both nobility and danger.
The man removed his helmet, revealing hair the color of burnished gold and eyes like clear water.
"I am Arnold Valenhart," he said, his voice steady. "Knight of the Crown, sworn to protect this realm."
Marcus said nothing. The silence stretched, thick with tension.
Arnold smiled faintly. "They call you many things, Marcus. The cursed one. The shadow of death. But I see a man — not a monster."
The words hung in the air. For the first time in days, Marcus's expression shifted — a flicker of something unreadable, deep within those crimson eyes.
"Then you see wrong," he replied coldly. "I am neither man nor beast. I am what this world made me."
Arnold's gaze hardened. "Perhaps. But I do not believe anyone is beyond redemption."
A faint smirk touched Marcus's lips. "Redemption? You speak like my sister once did."
Arnold's expression softened. "Then she must be a good woman."
Marcus's hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. Martha… The name whispered in his mind like a ghost.
Before Arnold could speak again, a horn sounded in the distance — deep and urgent. The ground trembled.
A soldier ran into the courtyard, breathless. "Sir! Monsters! From the northern woods — dozens of them! The patrol was wiped out!"
Arnold immediately donned his helmet. "Ready the men!"
But Marcus's voice cut through the chaos — calm, deadly.
"Stay back. I'll handle this."
Arnold turned sharply. "You? Alone?"
Marcus's crimson eyes glowed faintly. "You said I'm a monster, didn't you? Then let me prove it."
He vanished. One blink — and he was gone, leaving only the sound of steel whispering through the air.
The northern forest was a graveyard. Corpses of soldiers littered the ground, and black fog coiled around the trees. Marcus walked through it like a shadow given form.
Eyes glowed in the darkness — not one pair, but hundreds. The beasts of the abyss.
Marcus drew his blade. "Come then."
They charged.
The forest exploded in chaos. Blood splattered the ground, claws tore through bark and flesh, but Marcus moved like a storm incarnate — silent, precise, merciless. Every swing of his sword painted the world red.
When the last creature fell, Marcus stood amid the carnage, breathing slow, his sword dripping crimson.
Then, from behind the fog, came a voice — low, distorted.
"So this is the cursed heir of Logustus…"
Marcus froze. That voice was not beast nor man.
From the shadows stepped a figure draped in a black robe, its face hidden behind a mask of bone. The air around it shimmered unnaturally.
"You've awakened earlier than expected," the figure said. "Good. That means the seal is breaking."
Marcus's eyes darkened. "Who are you?"
The masked figure tilted its head. "Someone who has been watching you… since the day your blood was spilled on the altar."
Then, in an instant, it vanished — leaving behind only the stench of decay and the faint echo of laughter.
When Marcus returned to the courtyard, the soldiers stared in horror at the blood covering him. Arnold stepped forward, his armor gleaming with dawn's light.
"You fought alone?" Arnold asked quietly.
Marcus sheathed his sword. "No. There was someone else."
Arnold frowned. "Who?"
Marcus looked at the horizon. "Something that shouldn't exist."
And as the morning light broke over the kingdom, two men — one of light, one of shadow — stood side by side, both unaware that the path of destiny had already begun to twist around them.
To be continued…