The capital city of Ardentia burned beneath a dark and merciless night. Flames devoured homes, towers, and streets that had stood proudly for generations. Smoke rose into the sky like a funeral shroud, and the air was filled with the sounds of clashing steel, breaking stone, and the desperate screams of soldiers and civilians alike. The kingdom that had guarded the empire's northern frontier for decades was collapsing in a single night.
Prince Leon Valerian stood on the broken steps of the royal palace, his armor cracked and soaked in blood. His breathing was heavy, each breath burning his lungs as exhaustion slowly consumed him. Around him lay the bodies of palace guards who had sworn loyalty to the crown. They had fought bravely, dying one after another while trying to protect their prince. But even their sacrifice could not stop the enemy forces that now surrounded the palace from every direction.
Leon tightened his grip on his sword and looked toward the burning city. The once-proud banners of Ardentia had been torn down from the walls, replaced by the black war flags of the rival kingdom of Velkaris. Enemy soldiers marched through the streets like conquerors, cutting down anyone who resisted. The capital had fallen.
Only a few hours earlier, the battlefield outside the city had witnessed the fall of the greatest warrior in the kingdom. King Aldric Valerian, known across the empire as the Shield of the Frontier, had fought like a raging storm against the invading army. Even surrounded by hundreds of enemies, he had refused to retreat. Leon had watched from a distance as his father's sword cut through soldier after soldier, the king standing like an unbreakable wall between the enemy and his people. But even the strongest wall eventually crumbles. The enemy had overwhelmed him, and the legendary king had finally fallen beneath a rain of spears.
The memory burned inside Leon's mind like fire.
His mother had been taken soon after. Queen Seraphine, the heart of the kingdom, had been dragged away by enemy soldiers while the palace defenses collapsed. Even in that moment of despair, she had not cried or begged. Instead, she had looked at her son with calm eyes and whispered her final words.
"Leon… protect your sister."
But Leon had failed.
His younger sister had vanished during the chaos of the invasion. Whether she had escaped or been captured, he did not know. The thought that she might already be dead clawed at his heart like a blade.
Everything had been taken from him in a single night.
The city burned. The royal army was destroyed. His family was gone.
Leon raised his sword slowly as enemy soldiers began to close in around him. There were too many of them—hundreds filling the palace courtyard. Even if he fought until his final breath, the outcome would not change. Still, surrender was not an option.
Then the crowd of soldiers parted.
A man walked calmly through the courtyard, stepping over the bodies of fallen guards as if they were nothing more than debris. His armor gleamed in the firelight, untouched by the chaos around him. His expression was relaxed, almost indifferent.
Duke Marcus Ravenhart.
For many years, Marcus had been the king's closest friend and most trusted general. He had fought beside King Aldric in countless battles against monsters and rival kingdoms. Leon had grown up respecting him as a mentor, someone who had always stood beside the royal family.
But now that same man stood before him as the architect of the kingdom's destruction.
Leon's eyes burned with fury as he stared at the duke. His voice was rough, barely holding back the storm inside his chest.
"Why…?"
Marcus stopped several steps away, studying the young prince with calm amusement. For a moment, he said nothing, as if considering whether the question even deserved an answer. Finally, he let out a quiet sigh.
"You still don't understand, do you, Leon?"
Leon's sword trembled in his hand.
"My father trusted you," he said, his voice filled with hatred.
Marcus chuckled softly, the sound completely devoid of guilt. "Yes," he replied calmly. "And that was his greatest mistake."
The words struck Leon harder than any blade.
Marcus slowly looked around the burning palace courtyard before continuing. "Your kingdom was weak, Leon. Small, poor, and constantly under threat from monsters. It survived only because of your father's strength. But strength fades with time, and Ardentia was never meant to stand forever."
He gestured toward the burning city behind him. "This world belongs to those who seize power. Velkaris understood that. Your father did not."
Leon's chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as rage consumed him.
"You killed him," Leon growled.
Marcus simply shrugged. "He died like a warrior," he said. "That is more honor than most kings receive."
The duke then looked directly into Leon's eyes, his expression turning cold.
"And now," Marcus said quietly, "it is your turn."
The soldiers around them began to move forward.
Leon tightened his grip on his sword and stepped down from the palace stairs, ready to face the final battle of his life.
Even if the kingdom had already fallen…
The prince of Ardentia would not die quietly.