Shriinng… slaaang… slaaang…
The sharp metallic clashes echoed through the room.
The sound dragged the unconscious Yelena Sterling back to awareness.
Her eyes slowly opened.
"What is that sound…? Where am I…?"
Above her was a high ceiling decorated with luxurious art and intricate noble carvings — the kind only found in the manor of a powerful household.
She realized she was lying on a large bed, covered with fine silk sheets.
Then—
Flash.
The wedding, that was ruined.
The blood,that was spoiled.
The axe swing by that man.
The warmth of the blood on her face.
Her father's death.
His body—
She gasped sharply and sat up, breathing fast.
"Water… water…"
She looked around desperately.
From behind her, a voice spoke.
"Here."
It was feminine — yet there was a rough, almost masculine undertone to it.
Without thinking, Yelena grabbed the cup and drank quickly.
Only after finishing did she turn to look.
Standing there was a young woman in her early twenties. She had a ripped, muscular build, dressed in a maid's full gown uniform. She wore a calm smile on her face.
Yelena's eyes narrowed yet with confusion and fear,
"Who are you? Where am I?"
The maid bowed slightly.
"Olivia Varkhal. That is my name. And we are at the Viscon Household."
"Viscon Household?" Yelena repeated.
Her thoughts raced.
Viscon? They were long-time enemies of Sterling. Why am I in their manor?
Before she could question further, Olivia answered calmly — almost as if she had read her mind.
"No need to worry, my lady. You unexpectedly lost consciousness, so you were brought to Visconnia for treatment,during our time to return to our palace. Everyone identified you immediately as soon as we entered the Visconnia."
She smiled wider.
"After all, you are the unrivaled beauty of this nation."
Then her tone shifted, though the smile remained.
"But they spoke ill of you in front of our liege."
Without pause, still smiling:
"So we cutting off the parts which offended your name of all in Visconnia, that's our liege's order."
Yelena froze.
Her mind went blank again.
She rushed toward the window.
Outside—
The city was burning.
Houses in flames.
Roads shattered.
People running.
In the center of it all stood three figures.
One of them was Seth Varkhal, twin daggers flashing as he sliced down anyone who approached him.
Nearby, a muscular man wielding a chained axe shouted loudly,
"Oi! I tried to cut their mouths, but I cut their heads too! Still need more training handling this chain axe!"
He killed indiscriminately — civilians, soldiers, women, children — whoever stood in his path.
From behind him, another voice responded calmly, serious yet mocking.
"Hey, Zeckie. If you want to improve your proficiency, better lose some weight. With your build, nothing moves the way you command."
The speaker — Lexus — had an athletic build. He wore a leather classic suite over a formal shirt and carried a massive war hammer.
With one swing, he smashed the ground, collapsing soldiers around him.
People were stunned at how someone with such an athletic frame could handle such a giant weapon.
Zeckie varkhal laughed.
"Not everyone is like you!"
And again he spun his chain axe wildly, dancing through the chaos as he continued cutting down everyone in his path.
Yelena watched the massacre unfold before her eyes.
Even though Visconnia was once an enemy territory of Sterling, the brutality happening now was unbearable.
Burning houses. Screaming people. Blood everywhere.
She could not accept it.
Behind her, Olivia continued speaking casually, without considering Yelena's feelings.
"My lady, it is the price that must be paid if anyone dares to tarnish your name. You were unconscious for the past five days. We brought the top doctors of this territory to treat you. That is how much our liege admires and loves you."
Hearing those words while watching the slaughter below—
Yelena couldn't control herself.
"Wah—"
She vomited onto the floor.
The sight disgusted her. The smell of blood. The violence.
Olivia's smile slowly faded.
Her expression twisted.
"What kind of useless treatment did you give my lady?"
Without hesitation, she pulled out the long hair needles from her head.
Yelena immediately turned, alarmed.
"No… no… wait—"
Too late.
Olivia flicked her wrist.
Three needles shot across the room.
Each one pierced a doctor directly in the neck.
They dropped instantly. Dead.
Olivia calmly adjusted her hair.
"Serves you right."
Yelena stood frozen. She couldn't stop it.
She couldn't save them.
People were dying… because of her.
Outside.
Inside.
Everywhere.
Her legs weakened.
Despair swallowed her whole.
Olivia turned back toward her, smile returning.
"My lady, I will inform my liege about your recovery. Until then, please take some rest."
With that, she left the room.
And Yelena stood there— Alone.
Weeping on the ground ,"Adrian,save me from this hell"
Surrounded by blood.
Knowing she had no control over anything anymore.
At the Royal Empire — the nation so powerful that no other kingdom, not even the Demon Kingdom, dared to bare its fangs against it — stood the mighty Kingdom of Valedyrn.
Within its golden royal palace, illuminated by rows of beautiful candles, the king resided.
King Magnus Daimoor IV sat upon his throne in a relaxed manner, casually rotating his crown on his finger — the very crown that was meant to rest upon his head.
His face looked lifeless.
His advisor spoke with restraint.
"Your Highness, it is inappropriate to play with the kingdom's crown as if it were a frisbee."
King Magnus Daimoor IV smirked slightly.
"What do you expect me to do, uncle? I am a battle maniac. My sole purpose is to fight the strong. That is why I live. And suddenly, you made me king when father fell ill."
The advisor was Lord Cassian Valmere — Archduke of the Kingdom of Valedyrn and also the king's maternal uncle. Concern was clear on his face, worried that Magnus still did not understand the weight of his position.
The king continued.
"My hands are itching to fight… to slay the strongest foe I have ever encountered. Until then—"
He spun the crown again.
"This is my entertainment. To kill boredom."
Suddenly, the palace doors burst open.
A royal guard rushed in along with the overseer.
"Your Highness!"
All the dukes, counts, and archdukes present in the royal chamber turned in shock as they see the overseer much wounded,like he was in life or death situation,
Lord Cassian Valmere stepped forward and saw the overseer and asked the guards,
"What is the matter?"
The guard struggled to speak.
"Both Count Sterling and Count Viscon… have been annihilated."
Shock spread across the council chamber.
"What the hell happened?" one of the nobles shouted. "Who has the audacity to wage war against us?"
Lord Cassian Valmere narrowed his eyes.
"Who was it? The Demon Kingdom? Or the Kingdom of Eryndor?"
The overseer trembled. His limbs were wounded; he could barely stand.
Fear filled his eyes as he spoke a single name.
"The Varkhal."