Royal Capital

On the day of the attack

The corner of Queen Vida’s lips pulled down as she tried to stop the shaking. She tasted the salty tears from the corner of her eyes. Her knees trembled as she moved toward the King, barely aware of her surroundings or actions. Her hands were holding loosely on the staff she had.

“Go!” The King’s jaws clenched, fingers furiously tapping on the hilt of his sword.

The King groaned in pain. His healing capabilities kicked in time, and blue energy crackled to close the wounds and repair his inner organs to the bare minimum. Krystol would not stop. With a short incantation, the ceiling of the throne room broke down into large chunks and flew in the direction of the Queen. But she was quick to flee. The King backed up to the walls of the chamber with nowhere to run.

The King had to focus on the fight, even if they lost. He heard the Queen flying away, straight to the masonry walls for the book. Knowing that he felt at ease as he gripped his sword harder. Magic wouldn’t work, and the assist from the Queen was gone.

He needed to stop Krystol here. Stall him long enough for help to come. As long as he could stall him for a day, it should be alright.

In a single breath, the King paid attention to Krystol’s movements. He heightened his concentration to the maximum. Every extra muscle movement allowed him to foresee the future a little. Krystol shifted his weight to the right, as a slash went straight for his right abdomen.

The king dodged the slash, while his sword followed suit, aiming for his right shoulder of Krystol. The metals clashed as they continued to exchange blows. Against someone with a tall and lean build, the King had to be more agile.

But all fights must come to an end. Krystol noticed the sluggishness in the King’s movements. Without hesitation, he sliced down in the King’s direction as he tried to dodge it. He winced as he felt the sharp pain through his torso.

“No,” the King muttered.

“How does it feel being weak in the face of power?” Krystol asked, pointing the Sculptor of Dawn to the King’s face. “You see that seat over there? The people put you up there. And you murdered the weak ones of the bunch.”

“The weak? After you caused the entire country to ruin,” the King cursed.

“Let me repeat words that you loved dearly back then. Long, long ago, you told a certain bunch of people this: You’re the filth that ruined my world. I am going to create a new one where you are not in it.” Krystol raised his sword. He shifted his power to the sword, striking at the King’s head.

A small green light intercepted the attack, saving the King from a fatal wound. A fairy with green wings appeared, carrying a sword on her own.

After noticing the sudden interception, the King yelled, “Lucia, what are you doing here?”

“Father, get out of here. I will handle this,” Lucia said.

Up until this day, Krystol had never shown signs of being shocked. Behind that blue masquerade mask, no one could tell what he had been thinking all along. Lucia could tell that he was not expecting her to be free of the curse he knew, despite his full efforts to suppress that overwhelming shock.

“You had the curse. The Curse of Andromeda. How did you?” Krystol started gritting his teeth.

Her hood fell off her hair, revealing the dark shade of hair she had. She held the sword in her hand, her muscles tensed.

“Lucia, that hair of yours!” The king said, taking a step back from the fairy. His eyes traced to her hand, free from the black Abyssal flames. “Did you manage to find a cure?”

“...A lot happened since then. There’s a lot I want to talk about.” Lucia muttered. “And you… you killed plenty.”

“Same goes for you, Princess,” Krystol said, regaining his composure.

“Lucia, get out of here!” the King warned again, preparing his stance as well. But the wound barely closed, the King moved to know that the wound might reopen. He tried to stand up but felt weak on his knees.

“Father, get to Mother quickly. There are two demon generals after her.” Lucia’s breath quickened, not letting Krystol out of her sight.

“No, I can’t leave you!”

“I’ll be fine, go! I’ll stall him here.”

The King used his remaining energy to pick himself up and close the wound. Having one last look, he dashed to the hallway behind the throne.

Lucia vanished, reappearing at Krystol’s side. She threw multiple slashes at the man, each releasing a small shockwave to the side. But her attacks didn’t get through, just as how Krystol can’t find an opportunity to attack. She pressured him. With every strike, he was pushed to the back slightly. As soon as she noticed the movement of his lips, she forced an attack from multiple directions, stopping him from casting a spell.

For an instant, she saw a small flame combusting in thin air from her side. Krystol used that opportunity to push her back, propelling Lucia towards a rubble wall. It pierced through her shoulder as she coughed out air.

The healing kicked in automatically at the expense of her magical power, rapidly closing her wounds and regenerating her broken bone. Even though she could heal within seconds, the pain lingered. It etched into her soul. She took a few deep breaths, locking her eyes on her enemy.

“Lucia, my child. Still looking for power as you once did?” Krystol said, holding his sword to the side.

“I’m not that person anymore.”

“You’re not that person? Your footwork lagged, and you are unable to strike as powerfully as before. Why is that I wonder?” Krystol asked, pointing the sword in her face.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

She gripped her sword. “I wonder what you could be talking about.”

“The curse… you have yet to get rid of the curse. And you will never be able to.”

Krystol turned his head over to Lucia, who was still full of thoughts. Her mind wasn’t thinking straight at all. He approached her with slow footsteps.

“Lucia, look around you. This peace the fake king created could be easily shattered by me. There was the preparation, but it can collapse in less than a week,” Krystol said admiringly. “He bribes and slaughters innocent people when negotiations didn’t go his way. I see you and Gloria as the more noble ones.”

“He did what he had to.”

“No, he didn’t. For centuries, Iolite was offered to join any of the great empires. But your king was foolish. All because he didn’t want to part with the diary.”

Lucia was confused. What diary was he talking about? There was no such diary. She clenched her lips and spoke, “You won’t fare any better. Power means nothing if used without care.”

“No one can be anything without power.”

“Are you old and deaf or something? I said with care.”

Lucia drew a breath of fresh air, thinking of the possibilities and outcomes of her fight. With every step she took, her enemy knew where she would strike. As if he was reading her mind. How troublesome.

She readied her stance, finding an opportunity. The fine line she always saw. Krystol lunged toward her. He took the first step then the second step… The line never appeared. This meant that he doesn’t have any weak spots.

She swiftly parried the strike. But the sword couldn’t take it, slowly wearing it down with each parry. Her eyes locked on to his, finding any openings. By luck, one of the rubbles was loose, falling right behind him. Even if it was a small distraction, it was enough.

The fine line appeared before her eyes, linking his vital spots together. His neck, heart, and right torso. Time became slow. In one breath, like usual, she used her blade to trace the line. Lucia’s shuddered as she saw her blade break in half as it encountered the armor.

As soon as the concentration broke, Krystol pushed forward for a counterattack, but she disappeared once again. She reappeared behind his back, reaching out to his shoulder, muttering her incantations. As her hand touched his shoulder, a wave of blue, ethereal butterflies emerged from the thin air. As if electricity was alive and took the form of a blue butterfly. It touched him, running electricity right through him. Even when he was shocked, he turned to his left, swinging the sword right through the air.

Lucia’s eyes narrowed. “Are you a monster?” A swift movement allowed her to avoid the two attacks.

“That was lucky for me,” Krystol smirked.

“You probably planned all of this. That fancy sword of yours can’t compare to my blade.”

From the ground, multiple clones of herself emerged. One looked more realistic than the other, but each of them held different weapons. The one with the claymore charged first, sluggish, but it got Krystol to move. With a swing of the sword, the clone lay on the floor. The next one came with a sword, then a dagger. Each of them took their chances, but none of them managed to land an attack and disappeared shortly after.

“You need to work on your control, Lucia. Gloria had that better than you,” Krystol spoke to the air, not sure when she will show up.

The first clone with the claymore stood up. “Thanks, I’ll learn.”

The claymore aimed for his torso, aiming to plunge it through. Krystol panicked. “That wasn’t an illusion?”

“Nah it was.” The clone in front of him disappeared immediately, replaced by a green fairy. “There you go,” she spun on her axis, aiming a kick right at his face in hopes that he will be knocked out.

But Krystol stood his ground. That gave him a concussion, she hoped. She had to strike now. Her victory would be secured in this very instant.

Lucia didn’t give him the chance to recover. She summoned a dagger coated with green flames in her hands, charging right to his side. With the dagger, she traced the air, finding the most efficient way to channel all her might into this one stab.

“I was right after all,” Krystol said, wiping the blood off his mouth. “You do have the aptitude of a King.” From the corner of his eye, he noticed the slight movement of clouds of fairy dust on the ground.

“You lack only experience,” Krystol said. “The feeling of defeat.”

Lucia heard enough, with that one strike. It should have been enough.

She noticed a flicker of dark red flames burn under Krystol’s mask, as his eyes glowed in the dark briefly. From his arms, dark red arcane energy condensed into a thin rope, so dense that it could penetrate the ground.

Her blade almost reached him, but a pair of dark red arcane ropes emerged from the ground, catching onto both her ankles and pulling her down. She fell flat on her face, while the momentum she gained, and her dagger was lost, dissipated into thin air. Krystol immediately ran to her side, aiming for her left hand.

Krystol, on the other hand, stabbed his sword right through her palms, pinning it to the floor.

She gave a high-pitched scream. The sword mercilessly absorbed her power within her so the healing couldn’t kick in. Blood started to flow out, only to be held in by the sword.

Lucia wailed. She tried to summon her daggers once more, but her magic didn’t respond to her. Her throne room derived from her magic, couldn’t hold anymore, and collapsed in an instant, reducing to mere rubbles.

“You wanted to grow, didn’t you?” Krystol said. He stared at her right through his mask. “Then, you need to get rid of this.” Krystol bent down to reach for the artifact hanging around her neck. He cut off the pendant from its chain. He threw the artifact on the ground, crushing the artifact into smaller pieces.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice a pendant burning with miasma? Let’s bring the two spectators into the scene. They’re pretty cool audiences, the King and Queen of Iolite!” Krystol brimmed with joy.

With a wave of his hand, the rubble shielding the hallway opened up. Krystol managed to pull both the King and Queen out from the inner chambers of the hallway.

“How much power do you still have?” Lucia muttered in anger.

Her hand reached out, trying to summon her magic to cast telekinesis or any spell, but it was futile. No matter how much she cried out, her magic was gone. Lucia’s magic was sucked dry by the Sculptor of Dawn. Her limbs were numb and immobile.

“Feeling drained, Princess? Let me take this off your hands.”

Krystol pulled the sword out of her hands and slowly walked over to the King and Queen, both unconscious at this point from the lack of magic. Lucia couldn’t do anything about what came next. She was utterly powerless.

“Let’s see. Bracelet of undying. Ring of fire. For a king and queen, you guys have shitty artifacts. Off with their heads.”

With two swift slashes, blood gushed out of their throats, not having enough magic to repair their wounds or the blood loss. She felt a few drops of blood splattered on her face. That was her blood, right? It wasn’t her parent’s blood. A few days ago, they were still chatting about how to cure the curse.

At that moment, a certain thread in Lucia’s brain snapped. Her jaw dropped open, and her brain went completely blank. The Abyssal flame overtook her body once more, but she couldn’t feel pain. She couldn’t feel anything at all.

“Lord, the diary,” one of them said, holding the Diary of Solace, embroidered with golden metal and the symbol of the Solace family in the center.

“Fascinating. How were the preparations for the Chaos event?”

“All ready, my lord,” both said in sync, bowing down.

Krystol, before leaving, took a glance at the Princess. Krystol was unamused by her tears, “Hm, too emotional, the usual problem with fairies.” He pulled out the sword from her hand. He took a few steps forward, then he remembered.

“Ahh yes, you sent gifts to me?” He asked. The demon general nodded, getting the memo. One of them took out two lifeless drows from the sack.

“Are we going to just leave her here?”

“She will burn like everything else. Leave that husk.”

Krystol took a few steps to the crumbling edge of the throne room. “Start the Chaos event and notify the gangs to attack the remaining survivors. No one should survive.”