The sky bled orange.
The first rays of dawn cracked across the horizon like golden veins tearing through shadow.
But they did not bring warmth.
They brought war.
---
After the Cry Comes the Stand
I hadn't slept.
No one had.
But not because of fear.
Not anymore.
Because after I let my rage consume me…
after I screamed and broke apart—
What was left behind was unbreakable.
The pain became fuel.
The grief became fire.
The promise I made to her… became my sword.
---
By the time the morning horn sounded, the entire courtyard was already moving.
Knights who had lost fingers still strapped on gauntlets.
Mages with cracked staves leaned on one another to chant.
Men with fresh bandages over missing eyes raised shields they could barely lift.
Even the wounded stood.
Because it wasn't about living anymore.
It was about protecting what little remained.
---
I stepped out from the armory, armored in full black-iron plate.
My father walked beside me, dressed in the same battle-worn armor from yesterday—still stained with monster blood. His greatsword rested across his shoulders like it belonged there, as if it had never left his grip.
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then nodded once.
No words.
None needed.
---
At my side, my sword hung sheathed at my waist.
But in my left hand, I held something I had never drawn in war before.
A halberd.
Its shaft heavy.
The steel blade gleaming faintly in the morning light.
A weapon not meant for elegance—but for tearing through armies.
---
> Today is our last stand…
> Whether it becomes history or ashes—
> We will meet it with everything we are.
---
The Fog Beneath the Trees
The ground began to tremble.
The wind shifted.
And from the shadowed edge of the cursed forest—
A thick fog spilled forward.
Like smoke from a dying world.
Through it, shadows moved.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
---
Orcs with crude blades.
Goblins riding skeletal hounds.
Winged beasts shrieking above them.
But they were not alone.
Something massive stalked behind them.
The trees themselves bent as it passed.
And when it emerged—
The fog parted like servants before a king.
---
The Drake Returns
The Drake.
Twice the size of a cathedral.
Black as night.
Wings furled at its sides like a cloak of death.
Eyes like molten amber stared down at us—burning without blinking.
It didn't roar.
It spoke.
Not with its mouth.
But with its mind.
---
> "Human…"
"Still clinging to breath like it's treasure."
"Still bleeding for a land that will not remember your names."
> "I gave you a choice."
"You chose death."
It lowered its head slightly, as if curious.
> "Hard creatures… persistent… prideful…"
Then its voice hardened.
> "But this will end. And nothing shall remain."
> "No prince.
No king.
No love.
No legacy."
---
All around me, my troops stood frozen.
Some in fear.
Some in awe.
But none of them stepped back.
Not this time.
---
I stepped forward.
Halberd in hand.
Wind behind me.
Sword at my side.
Fire in my chest.
---
> "Maybe we are weak," I said aloud.
"Maybe we fall.
Maybe we burn.
But you've already lost."
> "Because we chose to stand."
---
The Drake narrowed its eyes.
A rumble shook the earth.
> "Then burn."
---
And with a scream that tore the sky—
The final battle began.
---
From the fog — like an avalanche of living nightmares —
The horde emerged.
Orcs, goblins, trolls, winged nightmares, even ogres surged forward like a black tide of death.
Screaming.
Snarling.
Howling.
Ten thousand strong.
Charging toward us with no fear, no strategy — just hunger.
The air was thunder.
The earth was fury.
---
And in that moment—
I didn't hesitate.
> Not for Seraphina.
Not for my brothers.
Not for my kingdom.
---
The Lone Charge
I broke from our formation.
Alone.
With my halberd raised and the sword still sheathed at my side—
I charged.
Straight into the oncoming horde.
A single figure in black armor, sprinting toward ten thousand monsters.
> "ALEIN!!" someone shouted.
The troops screamed at me to return.
But I couldn't hear them.
The fire in my chest drowned out everything.
---
The first goblin lunged.
I spun—
My halberd cleaved it in two.
A troll swung a club—
I dodged low and drove my blade into its gut.
An orc roared—
I kicked off its chest and brought my halberd crashing down into a wyvern's neck.
Blood sprayed across my visor.
Limbs fell.
Corpses scattered.
And I—
Kept moving forward.
---
> "HE'S MAD!" a knight shouted from the wall.
"HE'LL GET HIMSELF KILLED!"
But then—
My father raised his greatsword and roared with a voice that silenced the field.
> "LET HIM THROUGH!"
"STAND YOUR GROUND AND STRIKE WHAT YOU SEE!"
"THIS IS OUR LINE! THIS IS OUR LAST STAND!"
---
The knights — all of them — drew their blades in response.
> "FOR AIRILLESTA!!"
> "FOR THE KING!!"
> "FOR THE PRINCE!!"
---
Behind me, the field erupted in battle.
Steel clashing. Magic flaring. Screams rising.
But I didn't stop.
---
Carving a Path of Blood
Every swing of my halberd tore another monster down.
My armor dented.
My arms bled.
I could barely breathe.
But I didn't stop.
Five goblins at once—I spun and slashed.
An ogre grabbed my leg—I ripped free and severed its arm.
A wyvern dove—I leapt, dug my halberd into its wing, and used its fall to crush three orcs.
I was no longer fighting with skill.
I was fighting with purpose.
I was fighting with wrath.
---
The Drake Watches
And far above—
The Drake watched.
Eyes narrowed.
Its voice returned—like a god speaking directly to my soul.
> "You fight with fury…"
"Not for glory."
"Not for power."
> "But for something already broken."
> "…You fascinate me."
---
I kept running.
Monsters fell around me.
Blood soaked my armor until it glistened crimson in the sunlight.
I was stabbed.
I was crushed.
But I stood back up every time.
Because every breath I drew…
> Was a step closer to him.
> To the monster who dared curse my home.
To the beast who promised to burn everything she loved.
---
And I would carve a path through hell itself to answer him
Chapter 11 volume 1 end ....