It should've been just a nightmare… but the pain, the chill clinging to my bones, and the whispers of death on the edge of the Emperor's Mountain made everything feel more real than any waking moment.
The First King's fingers tightened around my neck, lifting me like a puppet, as if my whole body was nothing but unworthy weight.
His violet eyes—deep, deranged—pierced through my soul.
He spoke in a voice sharp as a blade:
"The Fifth Emperor… your mother, your brother, and you… will die as you were born: worthless. The Rosenfeld bloodline must be erased."
He laughed, then leaned in as if to share a secret:
"Your brother holds something powerful inside him… but you? You are nothing. Just a pale shadow of a light that never was."
His words were daggers. But suddenly, his face froze, eyes widening.
He was staring at my heart.
Then—without hesitation—he drew his sword and slashed my throat, tossing me from the mountaintop like discarded ruin.
The last thing I saw… wasn't the ground, but his terrified eyes.
⸻
Vaitheless jolted awake, gasping violently. Sweat drenched his body, and every cell screamed Survived! though nothing inside him felt alive.
His heart pounded, and his eyes darted across the walls of the room, clinging to them like the last fragments of safety.
He whispered to himself:
"Not again… the same nightmare… or a truth that refuses to die?"
He ran trembling fingers down his face, then slowly touched his chest, as if checking whether his heart was still there.
But suddenly, soft fingers brushed his skin.
He turned—and found a girl with short silver hair. Her eyes shimmered with something strange, and atop her head, a pair of cat ears twitched faintly.
She wore a black shirt and skirt, sitting beside him with a calm that didn't belong in such a moment.
She said in a teasing tone:
"Nice body… meow."
Vaitheless's eyes widened. He snapped:
"Who are you? Who let you into my room?"
She giggled gently.
"I'm Julianne, from Vowless. Heard about you from the boss… got curious. Just wanted to see you, meow~."
His heart was still racing, but her face remained calm—like she'd known him for years.
He asked, tense:
"You're from the beast clans?"
She nodded with a smile:
"Yes, I guess the ears gave it away, meow~."
Before he could reply, someone knocked on the door. Isaak stepped in quietly.
He said in a deep voice:
"As always, Julianne… a bit intrusive."
She shrugged carelessly:
"I didn't do anything… just touched him a little, meow."
Isaak looked at Vaitheless:
"Get dressed… meet me in the yard behind the house."
The two left. Vaitheless stood, staring at the mirror.
But something strange happened…
His reflection began to fade.
The glass turned black.
Then… a smile appeared.
Wide. White.
Vaitheless froze.
"Sin…? Saint Sin?"
A voice came from inside the mirror—distorted, warped:
"How are you, Vaitheless?"
Vaitheless whispered, terrified:
"Why… why are you appearing now?"
Sin answered:
"When darkness draws near, the whispers grow louder. Betrayal is coming… your body will be torn apart slowly… will you be ready?"
And then he vanished.
Vaitheless let out a quiet scream, heart nearly bursting.
Isaak appeared at the door:
"Are you done?"
Vaitheless answered, boiling inside:
"…I'm coming."
⸻
He stepped out, wearing his long red coat, following Isaak through an old stone corridor, its walls groaning under the weight of time.
Isaak stopped at a metal door and said:
"Maybe this place isn't fit for a prince like you, but… it holds more than just memories."
Vaitheless responded with bitter sarcasm:
"I'm no prince anymore… just an orphan chasing revenge."
Isaak opened the door.
It led to a stone courtyard surrounded by trees. Sunlight trickled through the leaves lazily, like the forest itself was breathing.
They were there… Vowless.
Each stood in their own way, but the air shifted in their presence—like something ancient had awakened.
Isaak pointed toward one of them.
A tall man, pale-skinned, with tied-back hair and unblinking green eyes.
"That's the gentle father… Tawakizra Moonlight."
Tawakizra stepped forward and offered his hand with confidence:
"An honor, Vaitheless."
Vaitheless gave a faint smile, but the moment their hands touched, he felt a coldness.
"Likewise."
Barely two seconds passed before a female voice pierced the space like an arrow:
"We call him 'father' because he meddles in everything, haha."
Tawakizra shot her a sarcastic glance, arms folded.
Vaitheless turned swiftly toward the voice.
Standing there was a tall girl with dark orange, messy hair—like wildfire caught in a storm. She stood with outrageous confidence, hands on her hips, her piercing blue eyes cutting through to the heart.
Her short shirt revealed a firm abdomen, and every motion she made overflowed with defiance and self-assurance, like she feared nothing.
She said with a mocking smile:
"Name's Marceline Beyond… tall… strange… and unfortunately, handsome."
Vaitheless raised an eyebrow with a dry smile:
"Thanks… I guess."
Marceline chuckled softly, her laugh echoing with a sinister undertone:
"Don't thank me… we haven't even started yet."
Before he could respond, a light shadow leapt down from one of the branches, landing with the grace of a cat. A girl appeared, with short silver hair and twitching feline ears.
She smirked slyly as she approached him with confident steps:
"I saw him first! I have the right to introduce myself first. Julianne, of the Beast Clan… meow~."
She gently touched his shoulder in a way that felt more suspicious than affectionate:
"You're strong… at least physically. What I like most is your muscles. Meow~."
Vaitheless's face flushed slightly, but he remained silent. It wasn't embarrassment—it was concern over the true nature of this group.
Marceline smacked Julianne on the head.
Julianne shrieked and tried to hit back, but Marceline grabbed her head mid-swing, laughing as she inspected her fingernails.
Vaitheless smiled unintentionally.
Isaak gestured toward a young man sitting on a stone. He wore a semi-transparent mask that hid the upper half of his face, and he stared into the sky like someone listening to the whispers of ghosts.
"That's Eric Winter. Doesn't speak much… but he can disappear for a few seconds."
Eric spoke with a voice like the wind:
"Vaitheless… what a strange name."
Vaitheless glanced at him, but said nothing. Eric seemed to know more than he let on.
Then, from the shadows of the pillars, another girl emerged—her steps silent, like a ghost walking among the living.
Her long white hair was tightly tied back, swaying like a butchered tail. Her face was pale as snow. Her eyes—entirely white—carried a gaze sharp as knives.
She wore a long black coat, open at the front, revealing a bloodstained white shirt and black trousers that mirrored her severe presence.
She advanced slowly, like walking in a funeral procession:
"I am Lady Malvina Crimson…"
She tilted her head slightly and smiled—softly. It was hard to tell whether it was a courtesy or a warning:
"You seem strong… through your cold eyes."
Then she turned away as if exiting a stage after her monologue, but without applause.
Something cold crept into Vaitheless's chest. This girl wasn't normal—she was something else entirely. He murmured to himself:
"Why is my heart trembling? Her features… they resemble her too much."
Finally, in the corner sat a young man quietly smoking his pipe. His hair was white like ash, and he wore a formal suit, strangely out of place in this setting.
Isaak said:
"The man over there is Kaidos… an undercover soldier who slips through the kingdom to deliver intel to us."
"…"
Vaitheless stood among these faces—some suspicious, some impressive, and others terrifying.
But they were all… anything but ordinary.
Isaak clapped slowly, closing his eyes with a faint smile:
"Alright… time for a proper introduction. Vaitheless… is the son of the Fifth Emperor, Cyron Rosenfeld."
Time froze. Silence blanketed the area as if the very air had stopped moving. Their eyes burned with fury, ready to pounce.
Suddenly… a blood-red dagger shot through the air, aimed straight at Vaitheless's face with lethal precision.
But Isaak raised his hand without touching it, and the dagger crumbled into fine glass ash.
He opened one eye and spoke in a calm, deadly voice:
"Lady Malvina… what do you think you're doing?"
She stood firm, but her eyes burned with rage:
"We want to kill those bastards—from the Emperor down to the last servant in his palace… and now you bring us his son?!"
Vaitheless remained still, his eyes calm despite the storm:
'It seems everyone hates my father… and the kingdom as well. I don't blame them.'
Isaak smiled gently, locking eyes with Malvina:
"And what about the Emperor and his wife being killed by the Nine Kings? What about his brother—missing, possibly dead?"
Their expressions changed. Malvina was stunned. The rest followed.
Isaak continued in his deep voice:
"Vaitheless doesn't want the throne… all he wants is revenge for his mother's murder. His goal is simple: bring down the Kings. Just like us."
Marceline placed a hand over her face in surprise:
"Wait… are you saying the Kings killed the Emperor? A coup?!"
"Yes. And it seems the truth hasn't reached the public yet…" Isaak replied, but it was enough to shift everything.
Tawakizra stepped forward slowly, his eyes closed, a white aura emanating from his steps. He stopped in front of Vaitheless and spoke coldly:
"If you betray us… you'll see your head flying through the air."
Vaitheless smiled slowly, his voice steady:
"Vaitheless… means someone who's lost faith in everything: humans, family, even friends. Do you really think someone this broken… would ever betray?"
Tawakizra smiled faintly and said nothing.
Isaak clapped three times, his voice firm:
"Enough… let's begin training. Our goal is one: bring down the Kingdom and its Kings."
Malvina lowered her hat over her eyes and turned away swiftly, without a word.
Inside, Vaitheless felt it.
This place… was his first real step toward a path unlike any before.