The earth trembled beneath their feet as another explosion tore through the estate, collapsing part of the main wall in a thunderous crash. Dust and debris filled the air, shrouding the once-pristine grounds of House Sylvia in a cloud of ruin.
Still, the soldiers held their ground.
They were no strangers to battle. Trained relentlessly under the banner of one of the empire's strongest houses, they had been forged in discipline and honed through countless drills and mock sieges. Though caught off guard, there was no panic in their eyes—only resolve.
Their knight-captain stepped forward, peering deep into the darkness. He raised his sword high, the moonlight gleaming off its polished edge.
"Brothers!" he bellowed, his voice ringing out above the chaos. "This is not the first time House Sylvia has been tested—and it will not be the last! We were born with blades in our hands and fire in our hearts! Now let's show them that only the afterlife awaits those who dares to invade our lands!"
A cheer erupted from the soldiers.
"ARCHERS! FIRE!"
At his command, bowstrings twanged in unison. A dark volley of arrows screamed through the air, soaring across the estate in a perfect arc. The steel tips glinted in the night sky like shooting stars before descending toward the invading force.
Silence.
The captain squinted, his brows furrowed. "Not even a scream...?"
The arrows had hit their marks—he was sure of it. He'd seen them land.
But then—
Clack.
Clack...
Clack.....
Footsteps.
Heavy. Measured. Unnatural.
And then they saw them.
The soldier in front froze mid-step, his sword falling from his hand with a dull clang. "By the goddess..."
The enemy had emerged from the shadows—but something was terribly wrong.
They wore the standard exquisite armor of the royal army, their cheat plates adorned with the king's golden insignia. But their appearance told a different story.
The whites in their irises had vanished, replaced with a soulless void. Thick, pulsing veins spidered across their faces, glowing faintly beneath the skin like blackened roots. Some of them had arrows sticking out of their arms, their throats—yet they marched on, unaffected. Unfeeling.
One of the corrupted soldiers turned its head with an unnatural snap, its neck twisting far too far. Then it smiled—a crooked, bloodless grin that made the knight-captain's heart pound.
"What in the goddess' name is this...?"
The bravest of Sylvia's knights hesitated now, their resolve cracking at the edges.
But the captain tightened his grip on his blade and roared, "Steel to steel! We fight for our House! For Sylvia!"
Yet in their hearts, a chilling truth took root.
This wasn't just a battle.
This was a nightmare.
•••
"We need to get out of here, fast." Damian ordered
Before anyone could act, another explosion boomed from the mansion's walls. Screams echoed in the distance. The estate was under siege.
Amelia immediately cast a spell, forming a protective barrier around Arthur with magic.
'Why now of all times' Arthur thought
"Stay close to me." she cautioned
"There's no time to explain," Damian said, already donning his armor piece by piece. "We have to get outside. The guards are already outnumbered. They won't last long."
Another blast shook the corridor.
"Damian," Amelia called out, her voice calm but urgent. "I can sense the mana in the air, they're using a high tier fire magic. We can't let them cast it!"
As if summoned by her words, a flaming arrow shattered the nearby window. The drapes caught fire as screams grew louder.
Amelia dropped the barrier and stared at Arthur "Let's go."
• • •
They emerged into chaos.
The once-grand courtyard was bathed in flames. Bodies of soldiers — Sylvia's men — lay scattered. Flaming arrows rained from the sky like comets. The smell of ash and blood mixed in the air.
The estate was surrounded by mages chanting some strange arcane language in terrifying unison.
Damian drew his blade, its surface reflecting the hellish light. "With me!" he barked at the scattered troops regrouping near the center. "Defend the estate!"
"Father let me..." Arthur called, but Damian was already gone, leading a desperate charge against the invaders.
"Arthur," Amelia instead answered in Damian's place, her eyes filled with every bit of anxiety he could've ever imagined. "You can't fight this one Arthur."
'So that's how it's gonna be again huh? Damn it' he cursed internally.
A sharp cry went out. "Captain! They're… they're not human!"
Arthur turned to catch a glimpse of the enemy but his usual calm and composed expression gave way to that of horror and fright as the figures before him were.
"They've been… corrupted," Amelia whispered, shielding Arthur behind her. "This isn't just an attack. This is something worse."
From the shadows of the broken down walls of the gates, a lone figure emerged, clad in shimmering black armor.
He moved slowly. Deliberately. Cloaked in regal black, his long golden hair danced in the wind. And behind him, the horrific army fell silent.
"Asmophel," Damian said coldly, stepping forward, his blade raised. "We're comrades aren't we."
The man smiled faintly. "And I admired you, Damian. But the age of your House is over. The Oracle confirmed it. A child born of the greatest in Cestalane… shall be destined to burn the world."
His gaze settled on Arthur.
"As vague as it may seem, it's pretty obvious who that is wouldn't you agree?" he pointed his blade at Arthur
Amelia instinctively stepped in front of her son. "Maybe the oracle was just wrong!"
Asmophel raised a brow. "You see, that's the thing with oracles. They're always right." He grinned.
In one quick dash he appeared beside her and drove his blade into her chest— or at least he thought he did. Instead, Damian had stepped in to block the attack.
"How... Are you this... Strong?" Damian asked, taking heavy unevened breaths.
Although Damian had already been fighting the corrupted for a while, it wasn't normal for him to be defeated so easily.
"Oh great knight Commander." Mocked Asmophel, "I guess this really is the end of a legend.
Arthur's heart sank as he saw his father fall to one knee, a deep wound across his chest. Amelia managed to let our a scream though she was just as petrified.
"Damian!"
"I can still... Fight" he said as he managed to squeeze out some words. Although he collapsed almost immediately as Asmophel had managed to insert a big of dark mana into his body.
"No!"
Amelia quickly recited an enchantment and cast a wind spell that looked a lot like a drill. But before she could fire it, Asmophel was quicker. His blade pierced through her mana barrier and dug into her side. She crumpled, blood spilling onto the stone.
"Now now Amelia, we just can't have our Grand mage casting deadly spells you know?"
'At this rate, we'll definitely be wiped out... I can't let this happen.' thought Arthur.
Without a second thought he picked up the blade of a fallen soldier and ran towards the black knight, determined to cut him down.
But Instead Asmophel sent him flying back to his to parents with one powerful kick to his chest. Arthur could feel a few bones breaking within as he struggled and coughed up a bit of blood, all while still staring daggers at the knight.
"Arthur!" Barry called out.
Asmophel turned away, wiping his blade. "End them."
Behind him, mages stepped forward. Their hands crackled with arcane fire, their eyes devoid of emotion.
With no other option in their hands, Damian placed his hand on Arthur's chest and began healing him with his divine mana.
"Dad..."
Smiling, "Don't worry about me, my magic won't be enough to heal this. Besides, I don't have much time left anyways."
Dust and wind began to swirl violently forming a smokescreen as a ring of fire surrounded the family.
"Arthur," she whispered, blood trailing from her lips. "You have to live."
She placed her palm on the ground where she had drawn a rather peculiar magic circle with her blood. She channelled some mana into it, then moments later it began glowing in a bluish hue, barely noticable.
Thanks to the smokescreen from the dust, her little act remained anonymous to their enemies.
"No! I won't leave you!" he replied, a tear running down his cheek.
"Go Arthur," Damian gasped. "Survive, find good friends, explore new things, that's just want we want from you kid. Its our little wish for you."
"But I have to tell you something..."
"We already know Arthur," Amelia cut in "You might be from another world, but you'll always be our son"
"How..."
"An otherworlder" Damian mused. "It's not something you see everyday you know."
Amelia pressed her forehead to Arthur's. ."
And with her last strength, she cast the spell.
Flash.
A burst of white engulfed Arthur. He felt weightless — as if he was the light itself.
"...Now answer our prayers and come forth, Oh Great Tower of Ifrit"
At last, the mages finished their spell as Amelia also concluded hers.
As if refusing their act of escape, from the ground, a magic circle appeared and almost instantly, a pillar of fire erupted, engulfing everything within.
The last thing Arthur saw before the light swallowed him completely was the face of his parents smiling through the flames, their final words echoing his head.
"We love you Arthur."