Five Years Ago
When the ogres attacked the Kingdom of Eith, chaos spread throughout the city.
Steel clashed in the streets below the castle walls. The roars of ogres mixed with the desperate shouts of soldiers. The battle thundered through the city like a storm.
Civilians ran for shelter while armored men fought to hold the lines.
The ogre king had forbidden his warriors from harming the unarmed, but war itself was never clean. The streets trembled with violence.
Inside the castle's great hall, Queen Marian of Eith stood frozen.
Prince Gregor clung tightly to her robes, his small fingers trembling as he hid his face against her.
Two of the Queen's personal maids stood beside her, pale and shaking.
Nearby stood another young boy, roughly the same age as the prince.
The boy's wide eyes stared toward the massive doors of the hall.
Then—
The doors burst open.
The heavy wood slammed against the walls with a thunderous crack.
A tall warrior clad in full armor stepped inside.
His armor was dented and streaked with fresh blood. Dust clung to the edges of his cloak. Each step echoed across the stone floor as he walked forward.
He stopped before the Queen and dropped to one knee.
"Your Highness…" he said, his voice rough from battle.
His breathing was heavy behind the steel of his helmet.
"Our army has fallen."
The hall became painfully silent.
The warrior lowered his head slightly before speaking again.
"The King… is dead."
The words seemed to freeze the air itself.
Queen Marian stared at him as if the world had suddenly stopped moving.
The maids gasped quietly.
Prince Gregor buried his face deeper into his mother's embrace.
Then the young boy ran forward and grabbed the warrior's leg, clinging tightly to him.
"Dad…"
His voice trembled.
"I'm scared. What's happening?"
The warrior looked down.
For a moment the hardened soldier disappeared, replaced by a father.
He gently rested a hand on the boy's head.
"Don't worry, Sarg," he said softly.
"Everything will be fine."
He lifted his gaze toward the Queen.
"We must leave immediately. The ogres will reach the castle soon. When they do, their next target will be you."
He gestured toward the corridor.
"Come with me. I know the entrance to the secret tunnel."
There was no time to question him.
The warrior led them quickly through the castle halls. Their footsteps echoed hurriedly across the stone floors as distant battle cries continued outside.
They reached the King's chamber.
Without wasting a second, the warrior pushed against a large wooden closet.
The heavy wood groaned as he forced it aside with a loud grunt.
Behind it was a hidden door.
He pulled it open.
Cold air drifted from the dark tunnel beyond.
"Go," he said.
The Queen, the prince, the servants, and Sarg stepped inside the passage.
But as the warrior began closing the door—
Sarg suddenly turned and grabbed the edge of it.
"Dad… wait."
The Queen turned as well.
Her voice trembled with fear.
"You're coming with us… aren't you?"
The warrior shook his head slowly.
"I'll stay behind and hold the ogres at the gate. It will give you more time to escape."
He paused.
"And someone must close the door… otherwise they might find the tunnel."
Sarg's small hand tightened on the door.
"No."
The boy shook his head.
"I won't leave you. I'll come with you."
The warrior knelt down so he was face to face with his son.
For a moment, the distant sounds of battle faded away.
"You can't come with me," he said gently.
He placed both hands on Sarg's shoulders.
"You have a far more important duty."
Sarg looked at him, confused.
"I want you to protect the Queen and Prince Gregor."
His voice grew firmer.
"Protect them with your life."
The boy swallowed.
"Can you do that for me?"
Sarg hesitated… then nodded slowly.
The warrior smiled faintly.
He leaned forward and kissed his son's forehead.
"I'm counting on you."
For several seconds he didn't move.
He simply looked at his son.
Memorizing his face.
Knowing this would be the last time he would ever see him.
Then slowly—
He closed the door.
Sarg stood on the other side, staring through the narrowing gap as the door shut between them.
The last thing the warrior saw was his son reaching toward him.
The door closed with a dull thud.
For a moment, the warrior remained standing there, staring at the wooden surface as if he could still see his son on the other side.
His hand slowly slid off the door.
The strength seemed to drain from his body all at once.
He leaned heavily against the wall beside the hidden passage, his armor clanking softly as he lowered his head.
His breathing was uneven.
For the first time since the battle began, his hands trembled.
Not from exhaustion alone.
From fear.
He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cold stone wall.
Outside, the distant roars of ogres echoed through the castle grounds.
He knew what waited for him out there.
An army.
An army he had no hope of defeating.
For a brief moment, the thought crossed his mind—
Run.
Follow the tunnel. Stay with his son. Escape with the Queen.
His fingers tightened into a fist.
But the thought vanished just as quickly.
If he left… the ogres would reach the tunnel.
They would find the Queen.
They would find his son.
He exhaled slowly, the breath heavy and tired.
"Damn it…" he muttered under his breath.
He straightened himself and wiped the blood from his sword onto the edge of his cloak.
Then he pushed the closet back into place, hiding the secret door completely.
For a moment he stood there again, staring at the spot where the passage lay hidden.
His voice was barely a whisper.
"Stay safe, Sarg."
Then the warrior turned away.
And walked toward the castle gates.
From the walls he could see them.
An army of ogres advancing across the fields.
Their heavy footsteps shook the ground like distant thunder.
The warrior exhaled slowly.
There's no stopping an army like this.
But stopping them was never his intention.
He mounted his horse.
The leather saddle creaked beneath his armor as he climbed onto it.
He drew his sword.
Steel sang as the blade left its sheath.
Then he raised his shield.
And charged.
He rode away from the castle gates, striking his sword loudly against his shield.
The sharp clang echoed across the battlefield.
"COME AND GET ME!" he roared.
The ogres turned.
As he rode past them his sword flashed.
The first ogre fell with its throat split open.
Another lunged at him with a crude spear.
The warrior leaned from his saddle and slashed across the creature's neck before the weapon could reach him.
Roaring with fury, the ogres began chasing him across the open field.
Exactly as he intended.
He led them farther and farther away from the castle.
Away from the tunnel.
Away from his son.
But eventually a massive ogre hurled a heavy axe.
The spinning weapon struck him with brutal force.
He was thrown from his horse and slammed into the dirt.
The world spun around him.
For several seconds he lay there, dazed.
Then he forced himself to stand.
His fingers closed around the hilt of his sword.He took a deep, labored breath and just as the first ogre reached him.
He roared and with a powerful downward swing, he split the creature's skull from top to bottom.
Blood sprayed across his armor.
He ripped the blade free.
Another ogre charged.
His sword slashed across its abdomen, tearing it open. The creature staggered as its intestines spilled onto the ground.
A third rushed from the right.
The warrior pivoted and swung low.
The blade severed the creature's leg clean off.
It collapsed screaming.
Before it could move again, he stepped forward and cut its throat.
More ogres surrounded him.
Still he fought.
Steel flashed again and again as he carved through the monsters around him.
Each breath burned in his lungs.
Each swing grew heavier.
But he did not stop.
He could not stop.
Until finally—
One of the ogres slipped past his guard.
A jagged blade drove straight through his chest.
The warrior froze.
His sword fell from his hand.
Slowly he collapsed onto the blood-soaked earth.
His vision blurred as blood filled his eyes.
Yet a faint smile appeared on his lips.
Because he knew something the ogres did not.
He had already won.
The Queen had escaped.
The Prince had escaped.
And his son…
was safe.
With that thought, the warrior closed his eyes.
And breathed his last.