"Release me if you dare, you insolent mage. I will drown you in darkness. Even a single sheen of light will fear crossing you."
A hoarse voice echoed, enveloping the former silence within itself, strangling and killing it.
A raised platform stood along the ancient stones of the Aeron Palace like an anomaly. It attracted countless gazes that held nothing but rage and contempt.
The reason it enjoyed so much attention was not because it stood below a dome so heavenly that any mortal would subconsciously avert his gaze. Neither, it was because a ray of light from the peak fell upon the platform.
Instead, it was a man wrapped up in a dark robe that garnered the hostility of the crowd.
The dark robe did not reveal an inch of his skin, and he seemed like an evil villain who was bent on destroying the world. Even the thick beam of light stopped a few inches away from him, as if it was afraid of touching him.
The flaring ice chains continuously trembled and twisted around his dangling hands, while his body shook from the invading suppression brought along by it.
The four pillars around the platform constantly powered the chains, burning the shiny blue Demonic Beast Cores littered around the platform. The intricate and mysterious runes along the edges wriggled as if they were alive.
"Do you know to whom you speak? Living in your rat holes, you Umbras have forgotten the terror of our will and swords."
The old man stood straight, hands held behind his robust back, almost touching a few strands of his dark hair that cascaded down like a waterfall. He wore a maroon robe, smudged with an Aeron crest above its breast pocket.
The crest of House Aeron was strange with indefinite spiral sketching on its black background. There were millions and millions of white dots stretching around the small crest.
Many researchers and enthusiasts of the Siara Continent tried to unravel the meaning behind it over the years, but they failed to do so.
In response to the proud words of the old mage, the man just spat on the ground. A mocking grin gradually crept up on his face.
"Your wills and swords, my ass. Dark fears no element, while we, the children of darkness, fear no man on the continent of Siara except our Umbra King."
He raised his clumsy head to reveal gleaming green eyes behind the strands of hair that stuck to his face. They lacked any pupils, but still appeared full of life, capable of piercing through the thick curtains of night.
"Then I believe I will have to take the honor in my hand. Let me be the light that shines upon your darkness, and let me be the nightmare that will haunt you each night if you shall be lucky enough to be granted upon one."
The hands that were serenely resting on the mage's back swept up in a grasping motion. Even the wind around the hall moved with the sharp gesture of his hand.
He burned the mana inside of him in an intricate manner, channeling it through countless acupoints in a matter of seconds. A fierce blue flame danced on his hand, giving away some yellow flashes of the dying oxygen.
The temperature of the entire room was brought up second by second as the flames squirmed around his hands.
One step at a time as it echoed in the silent hall, he reached next to the imprisoned man. Raising his hand to put it on his sternum, he declared in a firm voice, "This flame will burn your pride into ashes, churning out the secrets your heart holds."
With that, the silence that hung around the walls fell, and the suppressed moans of the man in black was the only thing that struck the ancient walls.
The tiniest fragment of flame invaded the imprisoned man's body, coursing through each of his internal organs, leaving behind only destruction.
Those green eyes held so much pain that it was almost materializing, but he refused to even let out a cry for help. "Tch, tch. Just like a candle it flickers, and like a mortal it burns. You think your puny little flame can burn the body that was forged through darkness."
The mage's face fell further as he heard him mocking his flame. He raised his other hand in an attempt to increase his agony, when a nonchalant voice interrupted him, "That's enough. You can find yourself a seat now."
"Your Majesty, give me a chance. I will smother him this time."
"You have done well enough. Now don't let me repeat my words, and fuck off to your seat."
The voice held boundless majesty unlike before, rejuvenating the lost silence, as it slipped around the hall like a medieval blanket.
Then it broke again, like a beautiful melody; its remnants still hovering in the air.
"Even if you dig out his intestines and make a harp with them, he won't surrender. Don't embarrass yourself any further."
On the ancient throne sat a tall middle-aged man with a lazy expression. The aura emitted by him was noble and imposing, and there was no one in the hall that could match him.
He was the king of the Great House Aeron. A man sworn to the power of the blood raging within him, and a slave to the virtue that comes along with it.
The man ruled his subjects with an iron fist. The ones who preached darkness feared him while the ones who knew nothing but honor admired him.
With a single sword, he had suppressed the other Great Houses, and some feared him more than the emperor himself. He was said to have trained the most terrifying and lethal army of warriors in the history of the Siara Continent.
Still, it was not the sharp edge of his sword that they feared. They feared him more unarmed, on a battlefield, where he played the strongest, fiercest, and invincible.
The old mage clenched his fist, and put it around the crest in salute. He gave a final glare to the man, and backed away to his seat. He knew better than to anger the terrifying man for his willful pride.
Looking at him sweating fiercely and backing away, the imprisoned man spat out again. This time, there was overwhelming strength to his action, and it was a disturbing question as to where his dried body mustered so much saliva. "You pussy. Look at you running away. Hahaha…"
"You are too loud," King Aeron said. "Tell me who spread that rumor and I might spare you."
"Even if I had known that, I would not say it under the fear of a threat." Those green eyes held a firm conviction.
King Aeron nodded slightly, and gestured to a knight.
He nodded and walked down, with hands rushing towards the hilt of the sword. There was a solemness in his pace, a subtle aggression, hidden beneath the mask of metal he wore.
The imprisoned man heard the familiar sound of sword parting and raised his head. The mocking smile still edged his lips, and the pride he carried never faltered. "The King of Aeron, the Lord of the South."
He spat out before continuing, "The one who sings of honor and justice. Is this how you treat us? With betrayal? Let me tell you, killing me today would be the most foolish thing you do. Let this envoy share a song with you. It is called the Song of Darkness. You must have heard of it."
The entire hall suddenly erupted with chaos, and everyone stood up from their seats. They were all the veteran mages of the Great House Aeron who possessed the power to kill thousands of men with a slight gesture of their fingers.
However, at this moment, they were too shocked to notice that even their backs were drenched with cold sweat. 'The Song of Darkness.' It was not merely a song. It was basically a declaration of full-fledged war.
It was said that whenever this song was sung, nothing but darkness and destruction prevailed there.
They quickly turned around to look at their king, and found him still sitting calmly on the throne with the same indifference.
"Don't embarrass me. Sit down. It's just a song. Let's appreciate the busker with our attention, shouldn't we?" King Aeron said softly, his voice laced with coldness.
Everyone sat down uneasily. They felt as if needles were piercing on their buttocks, but it remained true that they feared this man more.
The imprisoned man had his head lowered, unbothered by the commotion caused by his words. He slowly parted his lips and slowly a despairing sound echoed.
"When darkness undresses around the sky,
It rains despair,
Naked and cold;
It slips through every corner,
Like a tide came undone,
There's only destruction that follows,
And ruins that stay."
The sound stopped. The hall adopted an eerie silence. It was a calm that signaled towards a raging storm. The low melody of the song still had not disappeared from the hall, and the remnants still thrummed in their ears.
They all looked at the dark and tortured silhouette, suddenly wondering if it was really worth provoking this demon, who knew nothing of the language of pain.
Clap! Clap!
The sound of claps cut through the hall, bringing everyone out of their trance.
"Well done. Worthy of praise. Since our friend here sings so well, give him a perfect cut. Remember don't stain the stones of Aeron House with his filthy dark blood."
The imprisoned man did not speak any retort. He silently gazed as the scythe of death came closer, step by step that echoed hollowly.
Shaking his head with a helpless smile, he sang sadly.
"Embrace me o' mother darkness,
For your son's time has come,
He has failed you,
Failed the fellow Umbras,
As his head lay helpless,
Under the metal edge of a mortal,
Who desires his warm dark blood."
The knight stood in front of the man, whose biceps were bigger than his thigh, and paused for a second. He clenched his hands to feel the cold metal, reassuring himself that the man in front of him was imprisoned and unarmed.
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He burned his mana, as the edge of the sword shone with a different shine.
Raising his head he sliced through his neck like butter, and he saw the head fall—green orbs-like eyes staring lifelessly above the ceiling. They did not have any fear even in the face of death but a strange nostalgia.
It was not his first time killing someone, in fact, he had already lost the count. But he never remembered seeing a man without a single shred of terror in the face of death.
Looking at the shower of black blood pouring out of his headless neck, the Knight quickly summoned his mana, and froze it in the air, lest they stain the stone. With a clench of his hands, the fragments of frost crumbled, and drifted to follow the man into the sky-above-sky.
Only after making sure that everything was done smoothly, he turned around and gave a formal salute before retreating back.
A sullen-faced man unfolded from his seat, and opened an ancient looking parchment, which was made with hair-thin golden threads. It had the imperial stitch work on it.
He had short stature, dark-brown hair, and a robe so large that it could perfectly encompass two grown men. It magically hovered above the ground, making him appear heroic and authoritative. Despite that, his voice was deep and loud enough to travel across the entire hall.
"By the authority of the Envoy of the Imperial Family of the Empire Artidus, I hereby declare the charges of treason, unauthorised relation with the evil forces on Great House Aeron as nil, and absolutely ridiculous. They have always upheld justice and helped the Empire in fending off the Evil Umbra race. Seeing the loyalty and valiance of King Aeron, the Emperor has decided to grant him the title of…"
He looked up and spoke the three words with a strange power. It seemed to have merged with the silence of the hall, and swore to eternally reverberate along with it.
"The Dark Slayer. He, who fights evil, the nemesis of Umbras, and the greatest fighter of the Empire Aeron. I would like to request King Aeron to bow down and accept the imperial edict."
The mages of Great House Aeron had a great change in expression. Many of them couldn't help but shout out in their hearts. This was definitely a ruthless conspiracy. A trap.
It might have sounded great, but the title would only bring trouble rather than doing any good. The sound of destruction muttered closely in their ears.
The prime advisor of the Great House Aeron was a wise and old man. At the moment, the calm that had yet not left his face swept away. There was an anxious expression on his face.
However, he could only fidget nervously in his seat.
King Aeron appeared thoughtful as he looked at the old man for a long second, smoothed out the wrinkle on his sleeves, and stood up. It was as if the crowd followed along his movements, everything dancing on his momentum.
However, the next action surprised everyone so much that they could not mask it on their face.
They saw their king give out a slight bow towards the Imperial Envoy. "I accept."
The words ignited a torrent of commotion and gasps from the audience. Every voice died down when his voice cut through the hall once again, "But there is one condition I would like to request."
The Imperial envoy replied without even a micro change in his expression. "Please speak."
Even though he appeared respectful, he was annoyed to be sent for such a small task. He never doubted his ability to handle tough situations, but the dilemma of this task worried him.
Last time he remembered he was set out to dampen the flames of war between the neighbouring kingdom. The Emperor had never sent him for such an insignificant task. There was a strong feeling that he could not grasp something.
"To help the kingdom in fighting off the Umbras, I would like to request your majesty, the Emperor, to grant me the territory of the South-western border. The area will be under the jurisdiction of the Great House Aeron, and no Umbra will be able to step a foot into our holy territory."
When they were just mulling over the King's decision to accept the imperial edict, they were once again shocked. The south-western border was the most chaotic border in the entire kingdom. It directly faced the wastelands which was the home to Umbras.
The resources required to defend the border would be enormous, and they would need to deploy a huge number of manpower.
"Your Majesty, please reconsider it."
The Prime Advisor could not help but sit up with a swish. His bald forehead was showered in sweat. He felt that if he did not stand up at this moment, the Aeron House would really suffer a heavy blow.
However, all he received was a cold stare from King Aeron, so he immediately followed up.
"The valiant and mighty Imperial Army already governs the three thousand miles of chaotic south-western border. Umbras even run off if they see the flag of Artidus on an empty chariot."
Saying that, he slightly turned towards a bulky man, who had a cold face as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes. "There's no need for lawyers like us to intervene, don't you think so too, Commander Dagon?"
"I will do as Your Majesty commands," Dagon declared without a change in his expression.
The Prime Advisor silently cursed the stone-faced man under his breath. Fucking moron.
He could only sit heavily, and the fabric beneath his seat felt cold for some reason. The previous twenty-seven years under the loyalty of Aeron House made him learn to control his tongue.
If he spoke too much, especially against the decision of the king himself, then he might be the one who would be stationed in prison for an indefinite time.
In response, what the Prime Advisor received was the silence from the King Aeron, and there was a grim cast to his grey eyes as he stared at the Imperial Envoy without a change in his expression.
'Here it comes. I knew I am in trouble. That old man would never send me for such a simple task.'
"He must inherit the title at any cost. Fulfil any of his requests, no matter how unreasonable it sounds." The Emperor's words echoed in his mind, and he could not help but fight off the rising anxiety in his heart. The bad feeling loomed around his heart, and he could not let it go.
The request had already exceeded his authority, and he could not make a decision which had the ability to change the Empire's map.
"Esteemed King Aeron, I am afraid I don't have the authority to make such a big decision. Forgive me, but I am just a humble envoy. A servant of His Imperial Majesty."
The Imperial Envoy displayed a neutral smile, afraid to show the slightest anxiety and desperateness in his voice. The royals had sensitive ears, for they were baptised by the myriad of challenges their throne offered. "How about I escalate this proposal to the imperial court for further discussion?"
"That's certainly fine." King Aeron nodded without a slight fluctuation in his expression. "Since that's the case, I am afraid that I can not inherit an empty title. The Emperor deserves it, more so do the valiant soldiers of the South-western border who defend us against the Umbras. I am not worthy of such a heroic title."
'I knew these cunning royals. I hate this old men who play politics while we are stormed up between the mess.'
Seeing him fall silent, King Aeron declared with an emotionless voice, "That's all th-"
"Will House Aeron be able to defend the South-western border, Your Highness? If I am not wrong, the Southern border has been chaotic the past few months. Most of the soldiers of House Aeron are assigned over there. While the three thousand kilometre-long border would require more than three lakh soldiers, thousands of mages, and most importantly, a leader. Forgive me if I speak of any offence, but I don't think House Aeron has the capability to defend against those evil yet strong Umbras."
Those words stopped King Aeron in his tracks. The light which flickered around the hall seemed to have gone, and there was only sheer darkness that was left.
The old mage roared, "You dare disrespect House Aeron. Looks like we have worn peace for too long. Everyone has started to underestimate us, Aeron. Hmph. If not for the sworn loyalty, we would not have minded taking care of the seventy-thousand kilometre long border of the Artidus Empire."
The anger and pride in those words boiled down the temperature of the hall.
The suppression slowly crept around the hall, making the atmosphere eerie.
"You dare say that. Do you wish to rebel against Artidus?" The Imperial Envoy was also enraged by the naked provocation in his words.
The wind buffeted strongly around the hall, as if it could feel his anger. Even his red robe fluttered, like a raging wave in a bloody sea, and his short frame appeared robust for a fleeting second.
The crisp sound of undressing swords echoed in the entire hall. In their scabbard, they seemed like an adult's toy, however, when the cold metal lay bare in the open, it burned with sparks of killing intent.
Seeing the situation getting out of hand, the Prime Advisor stood up from his seat, and reprimanded, "Shut up! Don't let anger devour your wits." He turned towards the Imperial Envoy. "He drank too much wine today. So he is speaking nonsense. I would beg your pardon. He only meant to say that House Aeron has more than enough military power to defend the evils from stepping on His Majesty's land."
"Is that so?"
The Imperial Envoy sneered coldly, but he did not say anymore. There were rumors that the Great House Aeron was getting rampant after their lord conquered the South.
But now he had witnessed it with his own eyes. "I would certainly let the Emperor know of the military powers of House Aeron. How they are wild enough to point their swords at the Imperial Envoy, and fool enough to eye the lands beyond their walls."
"You dare suggest we are fools?" The old mage stood up with a whoosh, his expression masked in a cold expression.
"Sir Roland, you seem to be angered easily these days. I don't remember allowing you to speak?" King Aeron groaned with an emotionless voice.
The rage on the face of the old mage was washed away, and only dread loomed over his face. He bowed and refrained from speaking any longer.
"Since you doubt our strength in numbers, what if I prove the strength in our swords? What if I station the Aegis Legion?" King Aeron asked.
"Hmm?" The Imperial Envoy was really shocked now.
The Aegis Legion.
It was the legendary legion of Great House Aeron. A true trump card. It consisted of three thousand soldiers; every single one of them was feared by the Mages themselves. Even the Imperial Army would avoid confronting them.
If that was really the case, there was nothing he could do to find fault with him.
'This will be a good way to gauge their hidden strength. Moreover, I can't leave without handing over the title anyway.'
He smiled deviously and said, "Since that is the case, the South-western border would be vacant by the end of the month. I wish you all the best."
He flicked the hands under his robes, and a pitch-black token flew out, rushing straight towards the throne. The wind guided it, as it cut through the air, with enough momentum to make a trip past the chest and forth.
The world stopped for a second. Everything whirled around in a slow motion, and countless layers of shield flickered ahead the path of the rushing token. Azure, red, yellow, white; even shapeless. While it pierced layer by layer, showing no signs of slowing down, and left behind brilliant showers of swirling colorful elements around the path of storm it left behind.
The mages had desperate expressions. They burned every ounce of mana in the shortest amount of time. However, their efforts failed to hinder the gleaming token. Their expressions twisted into extreme shame.
Before it could pierce King Aeron whose face never left the asylum of darkness, an invisible suppression compelled the token to abandon its lethal speed.
It hovered gently in the air before dropping into his firm palms, which seemed to wield the power to thrash a city into ruins.
"Mind your actions, my sword knows no imperial blood, it dances on my will and slays a sure kill!"
Amidst dozens of curses and startled cries, a thick and deep voice was singled out in the room. Commander Dagon was heaving deep breaths. With his sword drawn from the scabbard, he loomed over like a mountain, ready to devour anyone who tried to invite his rage.
He turned his gaze towards his King, the Protector of the South, and kneeled down on one knee.
"My boiling blood thirsts for your command, my king."
"So do the mages of House Aeron. We await your command." The proud mages who never bent their back, lowered their heads in shame, and knelt on one knee.
They were upset by the fact that they could not even defend against a casual attack of a nameless Imperial Envoy.
Every one of them knew that killing the Imperial Envoy might result in the slaughter of their entire seven generations.
However, no one hesitated, and knelt motionless. The cold floor could not lower the temperature of their raging body.
The heavy silence once again swept around the hall. It had a sharp edge to it—gesturing towards a brewing storm. Like the reverberating thunder before the devastated earth. It shrieked like a war cry before the bloody dance of death.
"A nice throw indeed. I will gladly accept the goodwill of His Imperial Majesty." King Aeron gestured to everyone to stand up. "Stand up now. No need to get angry over a dog's mischief."
The remark did not erase the wriggling grievance on their faces, and they continued to kneel.
"Seems like even the wind listens to the command of King Aeron, haha. It is quite a sight to watch you all kneel. As King suggested, we are just dogs. However, the lowly ones don't even dare to bark. Haha. I will bid my farewell then, my lord, the Dark Slayer,"
The Imperial Envoy said those last three words with cutting concentration.
"Who said you can leave?"
The footsteps came to a heavy stop, and the smile around his lips faded. He turned to look towards the silhouette above the sharp throne, and only now did he notice that he did not even lift his hands to stop his attack.
The iron throne which had governed the South of the kingdom. The silent yet predatory eyes of the draconic head that hung above the throne. The gleaming demonic cores of Grade Six beast that littered around every inch of the throne.
A strange fear was born in his heart at that moment. The execution not long ago flashed over his mind, as he gazed at the gloomy platform that flickered with the mysterious blue light.
Taking deep breaths, he asked, "Does the king have anything to command? Or does he wish to stop me, the voice of the emperor himself?" Imposition had shredded from his voice by a few hertz.
"Yes, I do. Leave behind your hand."
It echoed calm and insignificant. It echoed like a command of a King to his servant; it echoed strong and powerful.
The Imperial Envoy felt a gentle breeze above his head, and his robe which hovered in the air like a maiden's skirt fell.
For the first time in his life, he felt the wind abandoning him; the world around him turning blurry and dark. After the split second, he finally recovered and his eyes widened.
It was infinite gray. His eyes. Envoy would never forget the destructive calmness it held. A mayhem huddled behind the peaceful gray mist.
Flames. Red hair that danced like flames. Red as blood. Even his features were sharp like that of a sword, capable of piercing through space and time.
Last but not least, a slight yet devilish smirk that hung around his lips. He felt it was hiding disdain for the entire world to see.
He knew he would never forget this day. Just like the man, they would stay immortal in his mind.
A cold touch fell on his wrist, falling warm and painful. Painful? Pain?
Yes. It was pain. An unimaginable pain. It coursed through his right hand all the way to his soul. He felt all the heat leaving his body through his right hand. It felt really cold.
The Imperial Envoy tremblingly looked down at his hand, which was bleeding hot blood, and pursed his lips. He burned his mana. No, he begged for it to burn. But it never came, as if it had gone into seclusion.
And the silence finally broke, like a mistress' fantasy. Through the wind, it sang, of some unknown destiny; a magical tragedy; an odyssey through space and time…