The dark cells reeked of sweat and blood. Inmates clung to the rusted bars, their hands outstretched, begging to be freed, pleading to be under their lord again. The faint glow of torches flickered along the damp stone walls, casting eerie shadows and illuminating shattered masks strewn across the filthy floor.
Emilia sat hunched on the cold, grimy stone, her knees drawn close. She struggled to control her breathing, fighting the urge to retch from the overwhelming stench.
She pressed her lips together, enduring the cacophony of cries and the grating clink of rattling chains echoing down the stairs. A high-pitched, maniacal laugh rose above the din, bringing a frown to her face and the cold presence making her shiver.
Frederick stopped before her cell, his neck contorting like a spring as his unhinged laughter echoed through the dungeon. “Are you sick? You look sick! Tell me, are you sick?” he asked, his voice teetering between singsong and madness. He bent his elongated neck to peer through the bars. “I am Frederick,” he said with a wide grin displaying his broken teeth.
Emilia didn’t answer, curling into herself and gripping the ropes around her wrists.
Frederick leaned closer, his twisted grin widening more as he attempted to shove his head into the cell. “You look fine. Hehehe, I really, really, really wanted to have fun with you. Just you. Only you. But Master Jinni warned me. Said I shouldn’t. So I won’t. Hehehe. Call me Frederick.”
Emilia exhaled, her frown deepening as she turned her head away. Would he stop already? she thought. Repeating his name is beyond annoying. And his neck is so strange, is he even human?
“You’re the Falcrest girl, right? Right? Tell me.” His neck twisted again, his voice growing more insistent. “Is it true you’re rich and immune to poison, and a daughter of Falcrest? And also Immune to poison? Tell me! I want to know. I am Frederick”
Federick gave up his pestering after not receiving an answer. He waved goodbye, shuffling away as his chains dragged a nearly lifeless hunter behind him. The faint, pitiful groans from the hunter sent an icy shiver down Emilia’s spine. She clenched her fists. If not for their master… would that have been me?
She lowered her head, still attempting to hold down her breath, the words of Jinni echoing in her mind. They knew who she was, why she trained and why she was here.
The Falcrest family had long held ties to the Lords of the Nine Realms, their prominence rooted in their mastery of sciences and their far-reaching research endeavours. For centuries, disputes among the realms had sown conflict, but with mutual goals of prosperity and the shared desire to drive the Hunters into obscurity, the realms sought unity. Trade agreements and treaties promised wealth, making the offer more tempting to the Grand Lords. But true peace required something stronger—a law-enforcing organisation capable of ensuring no realm would breach the fragile accord.
This vision required a figurehead, someone who could bridge nobility and justice. Emilia was destined for this role. An innocent damsel from a lower class of her family. Her father, a Falcrest of the Second Realm, and her mother, a Velmoré of the Seventh were the main reason she was picked since it was taboo for them to be together in the first place. Tutors and masters from across the realms contributed to her training, moulding her into the perfect candidate. Few knew of this operation; the Lords and a select group of trusted nobles preserved its secrecy.
Yet here she was, confined within a dungeon, her thoughts spiralling. How had Jinni learned of her lineage and purpose? Was he a former teacher? A confidant of one of the Lords? None of it made sense—especially the part where the Hunters, the sworn enemies of the realms, knew of her existence.
“There’s a traitor among the Lords,” Emilia whispered, her breaths coming heavy and uneven. It was the only explanation that fit. Her mind drifted back to her capture—Darius’s imposing figure, the faint scream of her brother, while she slowly lost consciousness and the despair etched into Mr. Swordsman’s eyes. Tears began to stream down her face, pooling on the cold floor. “Was it a mistake to leave?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “If I’d stayed in the Seventh with Bloodborne, none of this would’ve happened. I shouldn’t have wished for an adventure... and just stayed in place”
Her self-recrimination was interrupted by a sudden chorus of screams echoing through the dungeon. Inmates cried out for help louder than before as footsteps resonated down the stone stairway.
The shadow came first, stretching across the walls with the torchlight. The figure that followed was cloaked in darkness—a huntress wearing a hooded cloak, her face obscured by a carved wooden mask. She stopped before Emilia’s cell, gesturing for her to move back.
Emilia hesitated before complying, retreating to the far corner. The huntress sighed and stepped forward. She pressed her hand against the cell’s bars. The surrounding stone cracked and crumbled, the walls shattering with a deafening crash.
“Too loud,” the huntress whispered, stretching her hand toward Emilia. “Come with me.”
Emilia stayed where she was, her gaze sceptical. “You’re a Hunter too, aren’t you? Why should I trust you?”
The huntress sighed again, her fingers reaching up to pull back her hood and remove her mask. Pointed ears shot upward, and emerald eyes shimmered in the dim light. “Tori sent me,” she said. “We don’t have time to waste—”
Emilia’s breath hitched. Her eyes roamed over the huntress’s features—the pointed ears, the fierce yet elegant voice, the bow strapped across her back. Awe replaced fear, and a light kindled in her chest. All the negativity, the hopelessness, evaporated in an instant. The very reason she had yearned for adventure stood before her.
“This... this isn’t a dream, is it?” Emilia stammered, pinching herself as her eyes widened with wonder. “I’m being saved by... by... an elf prince!”
She tried to rise, but excitement overwhelmed her, sending her toppling forward. Before she could hit the ground, the Astria caught her, her golden hair brushing against Emilia’s flushed cheeks. Their eyes met, and for a moment, Emilia forgot to breathe.
“Are you alright?” Astria asked, her voice softer now, gentle and soothing like the descriptions Emilia had read in books.
Emilia nodded wordlessly, too stunned to respond.
“Good.” Astria drew a knife from her waist, cutting the ropes binding Emilia’s hands. Without hesitation, she hurled the blade through the shattered cell. It ricocheted off the stone wall and struck an approaching masked hunter in the eye.
“They’re already here,” Astria said, standing tall. “We don’t have much time. Let’s move.”
But Emilia barely heard her. Words passed through one ear and out the other, her thoughts consumed by the fact that she was standing before a living, breathing elf. It was the first non-human she had ever seen, and the realisation left her speechless.
Astria ascended the stone staircase with the effortless grace of a seasoned warrior, her movements precise and fluid, wearing back her mask, and her bow hung at the ready. Reaching the top, she paused and handed a sword to Emilia—a blade she had recovered on her way to the cell.
“This must be yours,” Astria said. “Stick close and don’t hesitate to kill.”
Emilia’s hands trembled as she accepted the sword. “I... I’ve never killed anyone before.”
Astria turned, her green eyes glinting through the slits of her mask. “Well, no better time to learn.”
The distant sound of footsteps echoed up the stairwell, the voices of approaching hunters growing louder. A faint, ethereal green aura began to radiate from Astria, its light casting flickering shadows on the cold walls. She stepped into the corridor as hunters rushed toward them from the opposite end of the hall, Astria unleashed a volley of arrows. Each one found its mark, striking her targets before they could react. Their bodies fell like marionettes whose strings had been abruptly severed.
Sudden movement behind Emilia drew Astria’s attention. Without turning, she crouched and fired two arrows past Emilia’s sides. The whistling projectiles grazed her ears, leaving her frozen in fear. When she dared to open her eyes, the hunters who had been closing in lay lifeless on the ground.
“You’re amazing—” Emilia said, but her words were cut off as Astria yanked her back.
The huntress drew a short sword in one, blocking the strike of a hunter who had seemingly materialized out of thin air. The quality of his energy marked him as an unusual foe.
“Emilia!” Astria shouted.
Emilia flinched, seeing another hunter lunging toward her. Instinctively, she raised her sword to block the incoming attack. The clash of steel rang out, her arms trembling under the force.
Before she could falter, Astria grabbed her and tossed her into the air. Time seemed to slow as Emilia tumbled, her wide eyes watching in awe from above. Astria, in a seamless motion, notched an arrow and fired two shots in rapid succession, dispatching both attackers. She caught Emilia in her arms, much like a groom would embrace his bride.
“I guess your lessons in killing will have to wait, Lady Emilia,” Astria said, her face stern as she closed her eyes, scanning the perimeter.
In the distance, the sound of revelry from the hunters’ encampment reached them—the careless clamour of those who felt secure in their numbers. But closer by, more determined footsteps thundered as reinforcements rushed up the castle.
Astria’s energy intensified, the green light swirling around her growing denser, its brilliance illuminating her surroundings. Her eyes began to glow as hunters closed in, and a powerful wave of energy exploded from her body, rippling outward. The effect was immediate—every enemy in the vicinity collapsed, unconscious, their weapons clattering to the ground.
Astria exhaled and turned to Emilia, lowering her mask slightly to reveal a little grin. “Shall we head out now?”
*
Hades sat on a wooden stool in the heart of the garden, the golden hues of twilight casting long shadows across the grass. The faint scent of roses lingered in the air, carried by a gentle breeze that rustled the petals around them. His dark eyes remained fixed on the ground, fists clenched tightly on his knees. His torso was exposed and battered, which Lily struggled to wrap with unevenly applied bandages.
Everything he’d learned weighed on him like a millstone. The sacrifice of the Falcrest family, the perilous state of the Nine Realms, and the centre of it all.
“Jin,” he whispered. “Are you sure it’s really him?”
Lily paused, tightening the bandage with little finesse. “You still haven’t let it go?” she sighed. “See, this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you anything. Mercury would kill me if she found out I’d been leaking intel from the disciples.”
“You don’t have to worry about Mercury,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His fingers laced together, his posture bent forward while Lily resumed her work. His body ached—muscles marred by Thorne’s relentless attacks and scarred by his own erratic energy control against the storm of flames.
“Tell me, Lily,” Hades said, his voice firmer now. “How did it come to this? How did Jin, our friend end up siding with the hunters, turning against the Nine Realms? I have a right to know”
Lily hesitated, her hands hovering over another strip of bandage. “You’re asking for too much. I’ve already told you enough,” she said, her tone carrying both frustration and concern. “I know how you are, Hades. The moment I say more, you’ll charge off to handle things your own way, like you always do.”
A tense silence settled between them, broken only by the distant rustling of leaves in the garden. Hades’s jaw tightened, and he finally spoke. “Knowing me, Lily... I’ll do my own thing whether you tell me or not.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Lily gave him a light smack on the head, leaning forward until her face was level with his. Her sharp gaze pierced into the emptiness lingering in his dark eyes. “You’re not going to see those kids anymore? What happened to finally stepping up and doing your duties?”
The silence stretched between them, only for the soft rustling of rose petals on the breeze to interrupt it once more. Hades let out a low chuckle, his lips curling a bit. “You mentioned Emilia was saved and that Pasta is with Kabal. They’re safe, for now”
Lily studied him for a moment longer before looking away, her shoulders slumping. She had told him everything to make him stay longer, knowing well he would somehow use said info against her. With a resigned sigh, she hopped onto the table, crossing her legs.
“I’m only telling you this because we’re close,” she said, her tone nonchalant but her eyes wary.
“Of course”
“Do you remember the double you met in Pyrovile?”
Hades’s brow furrowed. “The faceless warrior from the land of Heathens?”
Her glare sharpened, her voice lowering into something almost ominous. “He wasn’t from the land of Heathens,” she said. “That creature—he was you, Hades. The same memories, the same face, but with a heart consumed by hatred. I faced a similar one myself. Ended her before she could even speak a word. But Jin...” She paused, her gaze distant, heavy with regret. “Jin wasn’t so lucky.”
Hades’ jaw tightened.
Her voice dropped further as she continued. “As a disciple, I’m forbidden from meddling in political matters. But I’ve seen Jin’s power, Hades. He’s... not the man we knew. Before he seized control and drove the Lord into hiding, he annihilated thousands, wielding their own weapons against them. The Nine Realms fear him—and rightly so. According to our intel, he plans to use Emilia to dismantle the peace treaty. If someone like her can be captured, the shame alone would destabilize their entire movement. Then... he’ll create a tenth realm to rule over the nine, claiming it’s all for peace.”
Hades remained silent, his expression stoic.“That doesn’t sound like Jin. Not at all. He’d rather read about blades than involve himself in an all-out war. He never spoke of ruling realms or conquering anything—there wasn’t even a hint of it in his voice.”
“That’s because Jin is dead,” Lily whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of her own words. “Whatever’s in his body... isn’t him.”
Hades stood, pulling her into an embrace. Lily froze for a moment, her guilt pouring out as she buried her face against him. She had joined the Disciples before realizing Jin was still alive or whatever was left of him.
Hades held her, his hand running along her back. “If there’s an imposter in our friend,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll kill it”
Lily shook her head. “No, Hades. He’s too powerful. He’s even stronger than Thorne—the one who gave you those wounds.”
Her words didn’t deter him. If anything, they only solidified his determination. The fight with Thorne had been humbling. The only other foe who had left him feeling so powerless was Bloodborne, whose strength defied comprehension and Darius who according to Lily could topple mountains with a single punch. And now Jin or whatever had taken his place was on that level?
He released Lily, turning to gaze at the endless sky from the floating garden. “You’re right,” he whispered. “It's about time I stopped this act of mine. There are warriors out there far stronger than I am. If I lose focus, I’ll die in a heartbeat.”
A fiery red and black energy radiated from his body, crackling with restrained power before settling as he calmed himself. “Not yet,” he said, turning back to her. “Lily, may I ask you for a favour? You’re the only one I could think of.”
She tilted her head, curious but cautious. “What is it?”
“How about a little training before we meet the others?”
Lily stared at him, her eyes searching his. Where once there was darkness, now burned a daring resolve. She stood, brushing off her clothes. “Of course, Hady. And I know just the place,” she said with a sly smile.
“Where?”
“Madame Lin’s Temple.”
*
The skies were calm, painted in brilliant auroras shimmering over the snowy plains below. Birds glided gracefully, and the animals went about their day undisturbed—until the tranquillity shattered with a scream tearing through the heavens.
Kabal’s deep voice roared, his massive frame plummeting from the skies. “Why does stuff like this always happen to me?!”
Pasta followed close behind, unshaken by the fall but his pale face and the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead said otherwise. Meanwhile, Tori seemed entirely at ease, a faint grin tugging at her lips as the wind whipped past her. This wasn’t her first chaotic teleportation courtesy of Dain. Falling from the sky had become almost routine.
As her hair flared around her, Tori cast a glance at Dain. Despite the chaos, he floated upright with effortless poise, arms folded and unbothered by the descent. Even with his mask hiding his expression, it was clear he found the situation unsurprising. Beside him, Thorne mirrored his calm, unyielding presence, his hulking form unmoving in free fall.
Dain turned to Tori. “I’ll be back with the cruiser in a few days. What will you do until then?”
Tori unhooked her mask, letting it dangle at her waist as she stretched her arms. “I think I’ll spend my time sampling the delicacies of the realm.”
“And you, Falcon?”
Falcon remained composed, his sharp gaze fixed on Dain as they fell. “I’ll send a letter to the others, so they stop antagonizing Jinni’s hunters. After that, maybe take a nap. A long one. This trip has been a massive headache.”
“You said it,” Tori sighed, shaking her head.
“Understood” Dain replied before shifting his attention to Darius. “Let’s wrap things up then”
Another portal materialised below them, swallowing Dain and Thorne. Falcon wasted no time spreading his massive wings, catching the remaining group in his powerful grip before they could hit the ground.
Kabal cracked one eye open, only to see himself dangling from a huge birdman. His face paled further as Falcon soared through the skies. Meanwhile, Tori extended her arm toward Pasta, a tiny ladybug landing on her hand before being absorbed into her baton in a faint glow.
“What was that?” Pasta asked, squinting suspiciously.
“Oh, nothing,” Tori said, slipping the baton back into her belt.
They landed near a quiet village, where a handful of villagers rubbed their eyes in disbelief, struggling to process what they had just seen—a massive human bird carrying three people from the heavens.
Kabal dropped to the snow, groaning as he kissed the ground. “Oh, Mother of Mikah, how I missed you, sweet earth!” he cried before grabbing Pasta by the collar and pulling him upright. “What in the realms just happened?!”
“You’re asking me?” Pasta shot back, jerking his thumb toward Tori and Falcon. “They’re the ones who shoved us into that portal!”
Tori brushed the snow from her sweater and adjusted her scarf. “Would you have rather stayed there and died? You should be thanking us.”
Falcon retracted his wing, staring at Pasta. “Who are these two, anyway? Adventurers?”
“Yeah,” Tori said with a shrug. “An old friend of mine from Pyrovile, and the big guy’s his tagalong.”
Falcon grunted in response, his eyes narrowing before he turned toward the village. “I’ll go prepare the letter then,” he whispered, striding away without another word.
Pasta let out a long sigh, his gaze drifting to Tori as she tugged on her mittens and pulled the hood of her furry coat over her head. He walked toward her, placing his hands on her shoulders and lowering his head.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tori blinked, puzzled. “Tell you what?”
“That you’re amazing at fighting,” he said, his eyes sparkling with a mix of awe and indignation. “I thought you were just some coward who hides behind her weapon and attacks from a distance, but I was so wrong!”
Tori bit back a smile, crossing her arms with a mock look of superiority. “Of course I’m strong. How do you think I’ve been pulling off the aura of an S-rank adventurer?” She chuckled, her voice playful. “If you want me to teach you some tricks, just say the word”
Falcon paused mid-stride, throwing her a sharp glare before continuing his walk.
“Really?” Pasta asked, stepping closer. “You’d actually teach me?”
“Sure,” she replied with a sly grin. “For the right price, of course. I’ve been craving some delicacies, but my wallet’s looking pretty empty right now I couldn't even afford a simple toast.”
Kabal snorted, turning to her. “Aren’t you a hunter? Can’t you just rob a village or something?”
Tori rolled her eyes, brushing off his comment. “Not all hunters are criminals, you know. Ironic, right? Since being a hunter technically makes us outlaws, but we’re not all bad.”
Pasta nodded, clasping his arm around her shoulders, though his sudden touch made her glare at him as if debating whether to slice his arm off.
“Yeah, believe me,” he said, unfazed by her stare. “Tori’s an amazing person, and now I know she’s an amazing fighter too.”
Her pride swelled, and though she would never admit it, she allowed him this brief luxury just this once.
Kabal groaned, rubbing his temples. “I see. I’ll just celebrate the fact that I’m still alive, then.”
Tori turned her attention back to Pasta. “Are you seriously asking me to train you? Isn’t Mr. Swordsman already your teacher?”
“Yes, but...” Pasta lowered his gaze, his voice faltering. “I don’t want to talk about him. It’s his fault Emilia got captured.”
She removed his arm and sighed. “Yeah, but still, he’s pretty strong. I saw him take on a literal volcano. If you really want to get out of this realm alive with Jinni looking for Emilia, you’re going to need his help. The borders are shut, the place is crawling with danger, and, honestly, I can’t teach you half of what he can.”
Pasta remained silent, his fists clenching at his sides. “When did you become such a big fan of Mr. Swordsman?” he whispered.
Tori chuckled. “I never really liked him, did I? But after seeing him fight against the Weeping Swordsman and the mercenaries, and then stop an erupting volcano? It’s hard not to be a fan.”
She gave him a playful shove, her grin returning. “When this is all over, let’s find Emilia and then go look for him, okay?”
“What if he’s already gone?” Pasta asked, his voice barely audible.
“We both know he isn’t,” she said. “Just like before, he could’ve left Pyrovile but stayed to help. He’s not the kind of guy to just abandon people.”
Pasta didn’t respond. It wasn’t that he couldn’t forgive Mr. Swordsman—it was that he didn’t know how to face him again. Without his guidance, Pasta’s energy control would have remained at its weakest, and he wouldn’t have survived in the town of hunters. He has never even thanked him for that training, and the weight of it made his chest tighten.
Tori stepped forward, breaking his reverie. “Alright, man, let’s focus on the real issue now.”
“What?” he asked, blinking.
“How in the world are we going to find Emilia?”
*
Emilia and Astria strode through the bustling streets of the capital, their footsteps muffled by the winter chill. Astria tugged her scarf tighter around her ears, her sharp eyes scanning every passerby.
Emilia glanced up at her companion, a pout forming on her lips. “Come on, take it off. No one’s going to care if you’re an elf.”
“I’d rather not attract unnecessary attention,” Astria replied.
The two soon arrived at the Cadenza Court, an illustrious theatre renowned for recruiting the finest musicians across the realm. Its grandeur made it the perfect venue for Emilia’s plan. Being an adventurer was exhilarating, but there were other things that kept her mind in a state of unrest. The signs of a traitor among the lords were evident. Even If she does manage to return home, the traitor will still be among them.
If she wanted answers, she needed to infiltrate the circles of the higher authorities of this realm. And this, becoming a musician at Cadenza Court, was her way in.
Emilia clenched her trembling fist. She had an idea to put an end to everything, but the fear of it not working gnawed at her from within. This was the best she could do for now. As a musician, she had the potential to gain access to perform for the elite, including Jinni himself and whoever was supporting him.
The Cadenza Court was mentioned in the adventurer’s guidebook, as a sanctuary meant for the people. Jin, ever mindful of maintaining a good image with the public, wouldn’t dare attack her there—or so she tried to convince herself. Her hands trembled slightly as doubt crept in. This wasn’t the best idea; in fact, it felt dangerously naive. But if she truly wanted to help the realms, she had to push past her fear. Her heart pounded in her chest, a constant reminder of how much this terrified her… and how much it mattered.
The theatre stood like a monument to artistry, its towering facade adorned with banners depicting instruments of every kind. People from all walks of life streamed through its grand entrance, eager to secure a ticket and revel in its performances.
“You really think your brother’s in there?” Astria asked, her gaze fixed on the theatre ahead. She lowered her voice. “Be honest with me. I’ve heard stories about him from Tori—chaotic, unpredictable. This doesn’t seem like his kind of place.”
Despite the cold, beads of sweat formed on Emilia’s brow. She shivered, avoiding Astria’s piercing stare. “N-No, of course not. Why… why would I lie?”
Astria sighed, stepping away. “Alright, then. If he’s really here, you don’t need me anymore.”
Emilia’s hand darted out, gripping Astria’s arm as she rested her head against it. “Please don’t go,” she whispered. “I can’t do this alone.”
Astria hesitated, glancing down at Emilia with a furrowed brow. She sighed, reluctantly patting her head to calm her down. “Fine. What’s so important about this place anyway?”
Emilia lifted her head, her voice steadying. “I want to help any way I can. I can't just stay in place anymore," she said, lowering her voice. "This… this was the only idea I could come up with.
Astria turned back to the theatre, eyeing its banners adorned with musical symbols. “And that idea is… becoming a musician?”
She nodded. “It’ll give me access to the people I need to watch. The traitor lords, Jinni, whoever’s pulling the strings. I need time to plan my next move, and this gives me that chance.” She said, tugging at Astria’s cloak, her eyes pleading. “So please… don’t leave me alone.”
Astria exhaled heavily, her shoulders slumping. “You do realise how dangerous it is to reveal yourself so openly in Jinni’s domain, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I’ve got you with me,” Emilia said with a small smile. “And trust me, he won’t dare do anything here.”
“This is so reckless”
Emilia’s fists clenched, her expression resolute. “It may be, but I was trained for moments like this. I can handle it.”
Shaking her head, Astria grabbed Emilia’s wrist and led her into the theatre.
The interior was a kaleidoscope of colour and sound. Red carpets rolled across the polished floors, and aspiring musicians of all ages filled the halls with their instruments and vibrant attire. Groups of ordinary folk came for autographs and some gathered to watch impromptu performances, their laughter and applause echoing through the grand space.
At the reception desk, Emilia took a deep breath, composing herself. “Excuse me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible against the hum of activity.
The bald man behind the desk didn’t look up, too busy stamping tickets.
“Excuse me,” Astria said firmly, snapping his attention to them.
Emilia straightened her posture, her voice steady but soft. “I’m here to audition for a position at the theatre,” she said, her gaze unwavering. “As a pianist.”
The man looked her up and down, chewing on nothing in particular. After a moment, he simply said, “No.”
Both Emilia and Astria stared in disbelief.
“Why not?” Emilia asked, her voice cracking.
The man’s expression changed, his lips curling into an exaggerated smile as he struck a dramatic pose. “Because, my ladies,” he said, his tone suddenly refined and theatrical, “you don’t look the part.”