"Of course, father. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Forcing myself to bow, I smiled at him. With an icy glance rested upon, in a solemn tone he said, “I have a new mission for you, Arioch.” What does he demand this time? “You will be our missionary, to Averi, and gain trust, then establish an ally. Unity between the two nations is a must. Therefore, we don’t have to send our man that far but focus on Hyram instead.” Oh, father, you thought you could hide away from me, the son you have nurtured for all these years. You never know, sometimes I do hate myself for being able to read you so easily. Just like this moment, under that stern mask, you are wearing, a proud sense can’t even be concealed. Proud? What a pathetic plan. How cowardly my dear father is. And he dared to be the King of Hyram and, soon, Averi.

Peace. Peace. Peace. A meaningless word that belongs to fairy tales. In the end, only the sea of blood and flesh exists. Little does my father realize he is unable to even raise the blade, let alone wander around aimlessly in this cruel world. Hah, in the land where Death proudly announced its name, only the destined dragon could claim its throne, and the weak? A sweet, torturous end will await. You are too naive, father, too naive for your own good. Now, what more could be done? I have to do everything with my own hands.

“How was Alderic?” All of a sudden, that name. The name I cursed with all my living cells. “Still doing good, father.” Demian's nod replaces a reply, drifting back to the report he had formerly read. What’s even worth mentioning about that filthy, living soul? Failing the mission to the responsibilities, indeed worthless for the throne. Or… Does he mean… The crown will naturally pass to the eldest son. Such an illusory thing to think you can claim. No one will ever be. The crown... the power, all belongs to me, rightful by birth, for the royal blood forever flows in me. I am the descendant of Sylvester’s dragon. “Why are you still here?” Dear Father asks, not even gazing at me once. Oh my, you're treating me like one of your servants. This will be your biggest mistake.

“Father, do you remember teaching me?” Let’s brainstorm a bit, shall we, “Whatever the price and the method, as long as the plan succeeds.” Dear foolish father, how could you understand with that primitive mind of yours? How complex and delicate my ambition is, for I only have one goal, to rule this world with absolute power. “What ar-” those last words struggled to sip out. Falling down the throne pathetically is my honorable father. The same emerald eyes flew wide open as my sword stabbed deep into his flesh. Feels the warmth of blood, of your own kind, on my hands, sends an unexplainable… Satisfaction? The Grand Duke, the chief commander of the military, and the King of Hyram, such prestigious titles, but now, lifelessly on the floor. What a shame, truly, that I couldn’t share this scene for others to see. I can’t restrain the smile carved on my face any longer. “W-why?” Demian throes in his own puddle of blood, gushing from his stomach. I could easily go for the heart, but watching him suffer would be more... enjoyable. Oh right, I was still an obedient boy, listening to everything he said. The pride of this mundane family, of his life. How laughable that time has changed. The answer is simple, “Because you got in my way.” For he dares to seek the Crown, the power belongs to me. “You wi- will never be able to be King.” furious, he said. “No father, I have gathered much stronger allies under your nose, enough to wipe away your existence like dust. I look at him dearly, “Don’t worry, I will bury you properly.” Holding on to the sword nearby. He wants to kill me. How unfortunate, his wish is nothing but a fantasy. Bowing at father one last time, I give him a warm smile. “Dear father, swords are not the only thing you should be wary of,” putting the finger on my lips I smirk, “Words can kill too.” Carved deep into your bones, father. Only one person shed blood in this perfect scheme... And it was you.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Aiming for his heart, I reassured him, “It must be painful, right? I will make it quick, just like you taught me.” Something is coming this way... What a pity that I can’t end you here. Just before dodging, I see him. Still wearing the same annoying face, it’s my brother, Alderic Sylvester. Though, I never tire of seeing his hopeless face, like at this moment. Thanks for helping with my plan, dear brother.

“Father!” Alderic started to run toward Demian. His father, the one who once treated him with no strings of love, is now lying in the blood puddle. Blood drenched his clothes, soaking the same hands that used to hold his. Since when were they so far apart? The tired emerald eyes struggle to open, to look closely at who is coming. Relief was hinted underneath, it was no one other than him, the son he betrayed. How ironic his life is, for the only person accompanying him at his last moment is the one he hurts the most. His hand, trying to reach his cheeks, just like he used to, was only grabbed tightly by Alderic’s warm hand. Holding his father in an embrace, blood soaked his white blouse, dying in a dazzling crimson. Why, until this moment, did he not finally realize his love for his son? The same love is buried under layers of ambition and goals. The same love shattered his son's heart. Tears fell from his emerald eyes down to his cheeks. The day he protected his mother, the day she passed away, not a single tear was shed. But why cry for this sinful old man? For he is the one who pushed his mother to death. Lying in his arm, for a second, Demian could see a reflection of her.

Felicita, my happiness.

The more he grows, the more similar he looks to her. The same bright eyes, the same warm smile, like March’s sun. All those years, he pushed him away, cowardly avoiding his own sin that day. Power took his happiness away, then again, took away his life. Guilty gulping in his weak mind. “Sorry, m-my son.” For the first time, not by name or title, he called him… Son. A loved child shared his blood. The joy and pride Felicita has gifted him. I’m sorry for hurting you all this time. I’m sorry for pushing you away countless times. I’m sorry for not being the father you needed... I’m sorry. Yet he couldn’t say any of those to Alderic. The emerald pearls once looked down on him, now, nothing but love. How could he not notice? But it’s all too late. Alderic, holding his father’s hand, sobbed, “Regardless of what you have done... If there is another life, I still hope I can be your son again." A sincere smile shines brightly on his pale face through the mist of tears. Summoning all the fading strength at last, Demian whispers to him all the knowledge, the truth. One could turn this chest table upside down. Then, soundly, he joins the love of his life in his son’s arms.

Don’t worry father, I will put this to an end…

Letting his father go, the tears soon went away. With the sword in his hand, the emerald breathed in with a will.