After making their way under the protection of the escort, they passed through the arch leading to Inmortalis. Once the vehicle crossed the double door pulled by chains, a crowded mass of people followed faithfully.
The carriage stopped at the foot of the red stairs, which led to the palace gates under the watchful eye of sentinels armed with bayonets, greeting the arrival of the royalty. Two guards opened the double sphere-shaped door of the vehicle, and first, Orlox got out, followed by his wife, holding her hand. Cheers erupted from the crowd under the greetings of the monarchs.
Floating droids in the shape of spheres surrounded the path of the kings and transmitted the scene via holograms at various points in the nation, under the gaze of every social class. They deeply loved their rulers, considering them wise leaders, once heroes who won the crown by the edge of the sword.
The kings reappeared on the balcony, greeted again by the cheers of the gathered people. As the monarch raised his hand, the applause ceased. A podium with multiple microphones was placed in front of Orlox's face, capturing the attention of every droid.
"Beloved people of Artizan. It is a pleasure for me to enjoy your presence on this important day," the king paused, clearing his throat worn by the years. His hand was taken by that of his queen, providing support like the strength to continue. "These old bones are not what they used to be in those days when our nation proved its worth."
The sound of trumpets beneath the balcony summoned Vlad, who walked escorted by Frankie, Lawrence, and Agatha. His heart continued to beat relentlessly; he kept his hand on the trembling hilt and had no intention of letting go. It made him feel bolder, so much so that his legs moved on their own as he climbed the stairs that seemed endless before his eyes. He heard his father's words in the distance through the microphone, echoing in his head, and the daylight streaming in from the doorway at the last step proclaimed for him to go and claim his destiny.
"I can do this..." he whispered breathlessly to himself, "I know I can."
"It is my duty to inform you that due to the refusal of my son Adrian," Orlox's speech continued, resonant and powerful, amplified by the speakers. "Our beloved Vlad has finally completed his real training, as stipulated by the agreements with the elves. Today will be a historic day for Artizan, like his father, who raised him with values and strength... I promise on my father's grave and on his father's before him, that Vlad will bring an age of prosperity and..."
His voice fell silent at the alarm of his armor; his heart raced as his personal force field activated. A full-body barrier activated upon sensing imminent danger, initiated by the whistle of a ravenous projectile in flight, ended with the blast of thunder, and the end of an age arrived.
The jubilation and joy in the air were interrupted by horror as they witnessed the king's body flying backward, violently struck by a lance that came seemingly from nowhere at three times the speed of sound, destroying all existing defenses. It pierced him from side to side and threw him to be impaled against the wall on the other side. Blood splattered onto the queen, her hand trembling as she let go of her beloved's hand, and she fell to her knees in a bewildered gaze at Orlox's body, from which a cascade of blood flowed, and his entrails hung.
"Orlox! Orlox!! No! No, please... not him... By the gods! He was about to rest... we were going to retire... not today," Alexandra cried out. For the first time in years, she let her emotions flow, tearing her cheeks with her long nails, anguished by what had happened, unaware of the petrified presence of Vlad and his companions who arrived to witness the sinister scene in a blink of an eye.
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The prince, with perplexed eyes, didn't understand what had just happened, his face stained with blood, unable to express the whirlwind of emotions that overwhelmed his soul. Unconsciously, he unsheathed his sword, whose whistling steel couldn't stop what was happening. Time slowed for him, not hearing any sound other than his pounding heart; a living corpse. He paid no attention to Agatha's cries for his attention or how Lawrence and Frankie split up to attend to the kings.
The blood-soaked escort, led by Frankie, reacted by grabbing her, preventing her from reaching the corpse; he hugged her, holding her by the nape of her neck and pressing her to his body, comforting her in a mutual affection for the agonizing pain.
An animal roar exploded from Garland's helmet, almost bursting the head of a soldier who was close to him out of sheer rage. A rebuke from Agatha made him fall silent, and all aggression subsided into a passive state seen through the tear-filled eyes of the young sorceress.
From the queen came curses, exclaiming that she would kill them all, that she would decapitate the inefficient bodyguards, and then go after the perpetrator. Her words barely made sense, high-pitched screams of rage, blinded by sorrow.
He could do nothing; Vlad fell to his knees as his sword slipped from his hands. He could only watch the outcome of his inefficiency. But how? What power could bring that lance? Something like that couldn't come from a sorcerer; it should have been detected by Master Frankenstein's radars; it was something much more powerful; something divine.
"Vlad, please react!" Agatha called out in overflowing tears, clinging to her best friend's body, trying to wake him from the painful trance.
A cacophony of screams resonated in the crowds, and chaos ensued. Soldiers aimed their rifles and bayonets, searching for the presumed assassin, fully aware that it couldn't have been something human.
The queen freed herself from the grip of her bodyguards and ran to her husband's body. A gesture of horror intensified on her face as she recognized the origin of the crimson lance, with a four-winged bat symbol on the hilt: Valakia.
"This is a declaration of war!" the queen roared as she embraced Orlox's body. Cheek against cheek, she kissed the lips of the slightly open mouth, and closed her eyes forever, whispering that she would avenge him. With a trembling voice, she declared revenge, one that gradually culminated in a warlike roar. "Valakia will burn for this audacity... We will impale their men! We will gut their women! And enslave their bastards!"
"May the gods forgive me, Your Highness!" Lawrence fell to his knees in front of his lord and friend's corpse. He looked away, ashamed that he couldn't act.
"Lord Lawrence!" the queen ordered, moved by pure vengeance. "Gather your troops as quickly as you can. They will pay for this transgression with their blood!"
...At thousands of kilometers from the Artizan capital, in the vicinity of a deserted plain from the top of a reddened plateau, a rider armed with spurs urged the ribs of a steed as black as the night with red eyes, pushing it forward to calm it down. Due to the inertia of the launch of that magical lance, the horse stepped back.
The warrior's attire consisted of heavy scarlet full armor, adorned with a dragon-shaped helmet from which a pair of horns protruded. The black cape swayed in the wind's whistle, and behind him, four shadowy hooded figures came to meet him.
"I haven't lost my touch after all," an unstoppable force resonated in his words, his voice comparable to the creaking of wood. The rider turned halfway, they called him Nosferatu, the lord of vampires.
"The heart-devourer performed her act, my lord," among the three shadowy individuals, a soft feminine voice like velvet sounded. Under the dark cover of the hood, part of a face with blue skin gleamed with a sinister smile of lips red with growing malevolence. "A drop of blood was her target, and she will trace it to hell. Losing her lord marked the end of Artizan."
"It’s rebirth..." he corrected, "call the troops... today we march for conquest; we will reclaim what was taken from us... my throne."
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