The walls of the cell were made of big blocks of grey rock, just as the floor and ceiling. The height wasn’t enough for a human to fully stand up. There wasn’t even a bed to sleep, the only furniture was a couple of chains.

A man rested with his back against the wall, two straight horns rising from his forehead. His silver hair covered his face, but a shadow of his yellow eyes could be seen between the threads. The white silver chains bound his hands, draining him of his mana in the process.

A huge sound broke the peace of the cell, it came from outside. It was almost as loud as if someone broke a mountain. Kancor got up and looked through the tiny window on top of the cell.

His blood froze the moment he saw it. The sky itself was broken, shattered into pieces. He wasn't a mage, but he could see the immense amount of mana rapidly decaying, turning into something darker than residue.

He saw beyond the cracks, it was something beyond darkness, as if space didn’t even exist in the first place. Then, he saw the other end of the hole, he saw a mixture of colours he couldn’t even imagine. He saw planets being torn apart, turning into single strings of atoms.

This spectacle continued for 4 days and 3 nights then, the cracks started healing themselves until not even a scratch remained in the sky.

4 months later Kancor was taken out of his cell. His body was malnourished, his muscles only a shadow of what they once were. His lips were dry, as if he didn’t get access to water in these 4 months of imprisonment. His once beautiful silver hair was now long and dirty, covering half of his face.

But the worst part was his eyes. The golden ambers that used to be praised as national treasures were now hollow, dark yellow mirrors of his broken soul.

The mana draining chains now covered his whole hands and bound them together. A completely unnecessary method, without mana he wasn’t able to break them after all.

They are just humiliating me before my execution. He knew that long ago. He knew that all the people that were throwing him rocks now didn’t know the true story. He knew they were fed lies, that they were just victims of the same people as him. I don’t need to hate them, they are meaningless.

He raised his gaze, staring at the great palace on top of the city. Even if his mana was being continuously drained he still had an incredible eyesight. He saw the faces of the nobles, of the knights, of the royal family, all staring at him as he walked the streets of the city.

Those are the ones I must hate. He said to himself, enduring the sticks and stones, ignoring the words and insults, the looks of hate and disgust. Those are the ones who did this to me. He repeated as a bucket of boiling water was thrown at him from a window. Those are the ones who killed them.

They were smiling, they enjoyed the show. A dark grim was drawn on their faces. “Look at the fool” “The greatest hero of our time is nothing but a stray dog now” “He is nothing but a failure now” He could imagine their words as he saw his lips moving, his laugh torturing his ears.

They are all the poison, all of them. He didn’t spare anyone, from the oldest to the youngest, women and children, all were laughing at his suffering.

He finally arrived at the main square, a once marvellous place that was now an execution site. Four tall crosses decorated the edge of the central circle. He could see the blood on the floor, mixed with dark mana residue.

He saw the shattered remains of a silver great shield, covered in blood and black residue. The blue gemstones that covered its surface were now dull, devoid of all life. Next to it, half of a greatsword was nailed to the ground.

His gaze went on top of the ten metre tall black cross. He saw a red haired woman impaled on it. Her armour broken, yet his right hand still holded the sword’s handle.

Next to her the upper half of a black haired man was also impaled. His left arm was still covered in shadows and his right hand was nowhere to be seen, chopped out of his body. One of his daggers pierced his heart, and the other one rested nailed under his chin.

The third person had a similar fate. His black coat covered most of his body, but the man’s face was clear for anyone to see. His right side was covered in black bruises and he didn’t have his eye, leaving only a hollow cavity behind. His left hand still holded his grimoire and a black orb was broken on the floor.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Finally, his eyes met the figure of a blond girl, she wore a white dress and a pair of divine wings sprouted from her back. Her face was pure, uncorrupted, and her light blue eyes were a reflection of her beautiful soul.

But those eyes were dark, stripped of all the light they once had. Now they were only a shadow of what the girl once was. Her dress was stained with golden blood. And her left arm was on the floor, detached from her body.

A small but constant flow of black mana residue still bleeds from the gaping hole in her chest. One of her wings was sliced in half and most of her feathers were gone, covering the floor, stained with black and golden.

Her pure white staff still glowed, proof of the immense power of its wilder, whose hand still holded it.

“Kala…” A tear escaped Kancor’s eye as he looked at the remains of his party, of his friends, of his lover. They are here not only as an example, but as a reminder. He told himself as he reached the centre of the square and looked up at the palace, where the king smiled wide at the sight of the broken Hero.

“Kancor the Hero, the one who had overcome all the obstacles and raised beyond the top of his raze.” The king started. “The one who rebelled against god and committed the greatest of sins…”

This was not a trial, the king was no judge, the commoners were no jury and Kancor certainly wasn’t being judged. This was a public execution, a play of some sort, the king was the executioner, the commoners were the audience and Kancor was just a martyr.

All of them puppets, dancing to the song of a higher authority. Kancor knew that, the king most certainly thought he was somewhat in control. But the people were clueless, oblivious to the truth of this city, of the country, of this world. Just as he was not long ago.

“For your crimes you should be a hundred times executed, impaled in the holy cross as well as all sinners you call companions, but your duty is not finished yet.” Kancor’s eyes opened wide as he heard that. He was sure he was going to die today.

“I’m sure you are aware of the cracks that opened in the sky 4 months ago…” His grin grew larger and larger, threatening to consume his whole face.

They aren’t done with me, they’ll keep using me until my body is as broken as my heart. He realised he had underestimated their cruelty, their greed. Fucking sick psycho…

He almost wanted to laugh at his fate. He was now nothing more than a dog of the kingdom.

“...To ensure that you accomplish your mission you will be cursed. Your name will be striped away and you won't be able to leave the deadlands until all of the decay is gone forever.” The king proclaimed.

Notice: You are being cursed, current curses 3

Notice: You are being cursed, current curses 4

Notice: You are being cursed, current curses 5

Notice: You are being cursed, current curses 6

Notice: You lost your named status.

Notice: You are now unable to attack any member of the royal family of the holy kingdom. Any damage done will be redirected to you.

Notice: Once you enter the deadlands you won’t be allowed to leave until all the decay disappears.

Notice: Once the decay is gone you will die.

Fucking psychos… They don’t leave loose ends.

“To help in your task, you will have access to the sword of ice and fire.” The king said, as a couple of well dressed royal nights approached him with the sword.

They are only giving me back my sword because it's binded to my soul…

“Don’t try any funny business Kancor, we would love to have an excuse to beat you up again” Whispered one of the knights in his ear.

“Don’t worry brother, we still have a week until his deployment, we can still have lots of fun, right… H-E-R-O”

Just as they promised, he was beaten up every single day for one week, not only by the royal guards, but also by the king and the noblemen, the bishops and the priest, even the prince gave him a visit.

“HAHAHAHAHA” The young boy laughed like a madman as he kicked Kancor again and again. Once in his face, then his nose and his throat, later his stomach and finally his balls, just to go back to the face once again. “I love this, it doesn’t matter how hard or how much I hit him, he never breaks!!!” The boy exclaimed.

This whole family is rotten to the core. Kancor thought as the 7 years old boy kicked him again and again. His body was numb, unable to feel any more pain.

The kid had been visiting him the whole week, and even before that, he came every couple days during all the months he was imprisoned.

“Mommy, mommy, are you sure we can’t keep him!?” The boy asked his mother as he stomped on Kancor’s jaw.

“I’m sorry, but this is an order from your father, you must understand…” The woman started. “Besides, you should stop coming here, he might infect you with fleas or something.”

“If that says so then nothing can be done.” He said, knowing that his father’s words were absolute. “But then I just have to have fun on our last day” He said as he kicked Kancor once more.

Kancor stared at the portal at the edge of the island, once he crossed it, he would be in the deadlands, free from the royal family and the church, but also caged inside the decaying world of the deadlands. Facing a slow and painful death.

He thought of killing the knights that were here with him and flee, they were only a dozen, and he was confident in his skills. Even if he still wore a pair of handcuffs that restrained his mana, a quick death in battle would be more than desirable.

But the princess wouldn’t give him a chance, she was a really strong mage, even if she was only at level 94, but he wasn’t able to hurt her, so his demise was certain.

He gave one last look back at the human lands, the place where he was born, that he swore to protect. The place that had turned its back on him and destroyed everything he cared about.

I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I’ll be back. Even if it takes hundreds or even thousands of years, and when I do, I’ll burn it all down. He swore to himself, determined to avenge his friends.

“Any last words?” The princes asked him, more as a mockery than out of courtesy.

“Better pray that your curses work.” He replied, as he crossed the portal.