The Northern Region…
A land always cold, covered in snow, where the sun appears only once a year, and where monsters ruled. But 500 years ago, there was a man with gray irises who tried to claim this place as his domain—and succeeded.
He fought the monsters for two days straight and eventually won. He conquered the land, cleansed it, drove away the remnants of the monsters, and built a kingdom there.
That man's name was Areksa. Founder of the Kaelvros family—the ancestor of Althair. But not long after, his kingdom was conquered by Arsen and his army.
Areksa was defeated. At that time, he thought Arsen would seize his kingdom, but instead, Arsen offered to join forces in his greater ambition.
---
On the battlefield
"Areksa…" said a man two meters tall, his black hair slicked back though a few strands hung over his brows, sapphire blue eyes staring down. "Join me." Arsen's hand extended toward the kneeling man.
"Join you?" asked the kneeling man, just as tall but with a different look—silver hair falling over his gray eyes. Areksa looked at Arsen's face, then at the hand reaching toward him. "Why? You could just take my kingdom by killing me."
"I'm not interested in your kingdom. My ambition is much greater," answered Arsen, his sapphire eyes gleaming brightly.
"What ambition?" Areksa asked, staring into Arsen's sharp gaze.
"I want to conquer this continent… I want to forge an Empire here," Arsen replied, a smirk on his face.
"That's why you must join me, Areksa. I am not arrogant—I need a strong right hand to stand by my side. And you are the one. I need you."
Areksa listened carefully, then took Arsen's hand, signaling his agreement to become Arsen's right hand and join his ambition.
Thus began the birth of the Stellaris Empire. Together, they conquered the kingdoms of the continent—both large and small—and united them under one banner.
Arsen became Emperor, and Areksa was given the social status of Grand Duke. Arsen, once just Arsen, became Arsen von Stellaris. Areksa became Areksa von Kaelvros.
---
Date: 3-January-1000
08:12 a.m. – Northern Region, Stellaris Empire
(Before the appearance of Althair and his companions in Wildress Village. A timeline where this region had already fallen.)
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Footsteps—no, the sound of someone running.
"Huff…"
A boy was running, running from the invaders. His black pants torn in several places, his once clean white shirt now stained brown with filth.
He was 12 years old, brown hair falling into his eyes, sweat soaking his body, chest heaving as he ran with all his strength.
But suddenly, a man appeared before him, clad in full armor. On the armor was the symbol of a wolf, bared fangs visible. The crest of the Silverlake family.
"Ah…" the boy gasped, realizing his only escape route was cut off. (This boy, we'll call him Nevan.)
"Got you!" said the knight, seizing Nevan roughly—by choking his neck.
"Agkh!"
Nevan instinctively grabbed the man's arm with both hands, but even with all his strength, he couldn't break free.
And in the end, Nevan was dragged back.
To the place where…
The people…
The innocent…
Were tortured…
Mercilessly.
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Nevan's Perspective
Warning: adult content—slavery, torture, etc. If you can't handle it, skip this part.
I was thrown into a place where people were turned into slaves.
Yes, a slave. I, someone with no involvement in Imperial politics, was enslaved by them—not just me, but everyone from the Stellaris Empire.
Everyone.
Children.
Pregnant women.
The elderly.
They branded us with the slave mark. For men, on the left chest. For women, below the stomach—or above their genitals.
Do you know succubus? They usually have a tattoo shaped like a heart in that spot.
The reason women were branded there… was because…
They were turned into…
Sex slaves.
Without exception.
…
"Aaaaaaaa!! STOP!! IT HURTS!!"
I looked ahead, where a girl was stripped naked and her lower abdomen was burned with fire magic.
She… she was only 12 years old like me. I knew her. Her name was Lena—a commoner like me.
Tears streamed from her eyes, her mouth open from the unbearable pain.
And I just watched. I didn't speak. I didn't help. I only looked on in despair. Because I knew—after her, it would be my turn.
When they were done with Lena, she was dragged away by a knight to a place I dared not follow.
But I knew…
Exactly what kind of place
She was taken to.
We men were chained by the neck, dragged like animals. My feet bled from scraping against stone, my lungs burned, my chest rising and falling in exhaustion.
But what terrified me most was when…
"So this is the 1006th," said a knight, tasked with branding the slaves, almost cheerfully.
"Yes," replied the knight who had dragged me here.
(Let's call the knight who dragged me *A*, and the one who branded me *B*.)
They looked at me with calm, innocent eyes.
Knight B was a man with glasses, speaking like an ordinary person. He wasn't insane. He didn't laugh at our suffering. He was just doing his duty.
What I faced wasn't the kind of monster described in fiction—where villains laugh over others' pain.
No. These men didn't.
What I saw was simply a knight, obedient and proud of performing orders effisiently.
That's when I realized—atrocities like this don't always come from criminals. They can come from fools.
Fools who refuse to think.
Fools who don't reflect on the consequences of their actions.
Fools who just go with the flow of life.
…
Knight B pressed the heated iron against my left chest, while Knight A cast binding magic on my legs, arms, and shoulders.
It hurt beyond description.
Hot? No—far beyond hot.
It's not that I was stupid for being unable to describe it—there simply are no words to capture that kind of pain.
And when it was done, the slave mark remained burned into my chest. Permanent. A mark that would follow me for the rest of my life.
We men were forced to clean up the aftermath of the battle—Grand Duke Kaelvros's troops clashing with Archdukes, Dukes, and vampires.
I was thirsty. Hungry. Exhausted. But the knights wouldn't let us rest. If we slowed down, they whipped us.
Not everything had to be done at once—we were allowed "rest." But that "rest" was a nightmare.
We were forced to watch the women we loved get raped before our very eyes.
"Ahhhh!!"
"Please, slower!"
"Wait—don't use my ass!"
In front of me, six women were raped by soldiers.
This was more like what books describe—villains dancing over suffering.
I stared at them—not with lust, but despair. Because among them was my mother.
Yes. My mother was gang-raped before my eyes. Her three holes used at once by soldiers.
No—not soldiers. Worse than demons.
I… I can't even express what I felt. No language can describe this pain.
This suffering comes naked and brutal, unfiltered; language has lost its footing. All that remains is the direct collision between consciousness and raw pain, without the ability to name, describe, let alone frame it.
…
Then another knight appeared. He walked toward me. I stayed silent, staring.
"Hey, you—come with me," he ordered.
I obeyed without answering. He didn't complain—obedience was enough.
He dragged me with a magical leash locked to my neck. Not an ordinary leash—one that blocked mana and aura force.
He brought me to a house. Not an ordinary house, but one where innocent women were kept.
"Ahhh\~…"
"I-I can't… h-hold it anymore…!"
"Yes! You women are nothing but our dumping ground!"
"Take my seed!!"
I could hear it from outside. I could imagine what was happening inside without seeing.
The knight opened the door. I entered. I won't describe who was inside—you already know.
The house itself was filthy. Floors, walls, furniture—covered in the fluids of men and women alike.
You know what kind of fluids. I don't need to explain.
The only difference: these women were Rich's, unlike the poor people outside. And the men raping them weren't common soldiers, but captains or higher.
The knight ignored the filth, walking further in. I followed. Until he led me to a room, pushed the door open.
I had a wild thought—maybe this knight was gay. But I kept calm.
Then I saw her. Inside was the Grand Duchess—Reina von Kaelvros. Wife of the ruler of this land. Mother of the genius boy, Althair von Kaelvros.
But she wasn't doing well at all. His body was disgusting, sweat drenched his entire body, and there was semen all over him—on his face, back, chest, legs, everywhere from top to bottom. Even her red hair was covered in semen, a sign that his hair was used by soldiers for masturbation.
"This slave has been used by us. Your task is to bathe her until she's clean," the knight said before leaving, shutting the door.
Now it was just me and her.
She lay on the floor. Once one of the most beautiful women in the Empire, now 39 years old. Her body still firm, chest large, nipples pink, her plump buttocks.
But I felt nothing. I was like an impotent man. I had seen countless naked women, but I didn't react at all.
Maybe it was the horror of this place.
I decided to take action. There was a bathroom in the room, so I went in and saw a bathtub full of water.
I dragged it out and headed toward Reina. Even though I was 12 years old, everyone in this world was stronger than in the real world.
I knelt on one knee and began washing her, even her private parts. Then suddenly, she opened her eyes.
She opened her mouth to scream, but I covered it with my hand. "Shht. They won't touch you again. It's okay."
Tears streamed from her beautiful eyes. Her body trembled. Trauma consumed her.
When I let go, she spoke weakly: "P-please… kill m-me."
This was nothing like the rumors—she was said to be a strong woman. But what I saw was broken. And I understood.
I looked into her eyes, not her body. I knew how shattered she must feel—her body, meant for her husband, defiled.
I didn't answer right away. I thought of the consequences of killing their 'precious collection.'
Yes, a collection. They would use Reina again. If not her body, then her value. Even at nearly 40, nobles would pay for her. Some men had fetishes for mature women, for BDSM.
If I killed her, they'd kill me for destroying their prized slave.
While I thought, she whispered again: "Please, free me from this suffering."
She crawled to me, dragging her broken body, gripping my shoulders.
"Why don't you kill yourself? Bite your tongue—it'll end."
"No… they cursed me. A spell prevents me from harming myself. If I try, I just collapse into forced sleep."
So that's why she fainted earlier.
But then I said, "What about me?" Tears streamed down my dirty face.
I didn't want to cry. But my eyes betrayed me.
"I'll die too if I kill you. You're their prized slave now."
"After all this…" Reina sighed. "Do you still want to live? In this cruel world?"
Her words shook me. Everything I had was gone—yet I still wanted to live. For what? For who?
But deep inside, her words sparked something else—revenge.
"I don't want to die in vain. I want justice for the innocent. I'll take revenge on them. So I can't die here."
"So you want to survive? Even after this first day of hell? What about the next?"
"I'll endure it," I answered firmly.
Reina said nothing more. She only stared. I wanted to comfort her. "Please, endure too…"
She laughed bitterly. "You know what? Don't give me motivation when you don't even understand my pain."
I didn't answer.
Her eyes were bloodshot, snot dripping. She whispered, broken: "Please… free me."
And in the end… I killed her. By strangling her.
Impulsive. Her gaze reminded me of my beloved mother.
And I knew nothing else. Not because I couldn't think—because there was no way forward.
---
Northern Region
Date: 3-1-1000
10:00 a.m.
In a snow-covered forest, there was a girl—no, not an ordinary girl. The Vampire Queen Lilith.
She should have been injured after clashing with the Northern Duke, yet her body was flawless.
From the side, her subordinate appeared, a strong-looking man.
"Althair von Kaelvros is heading west, not alone but with his friends. They were intercepted, but escaped."
Lilith listened carefully, then replied, "Let's go."
The subordinate was confused. "Why? Can't we send others? Must Your Highness step in personally?"
"No… they won't be enough."
"Why not?"
"Because… he is a Kaelvros."
"Hm… is he really that dangerous?"
"Yes. After all, the Kaelvros are the only noble family capable of rivaling the royal family itself. Without Archdukes or Dukes on the humans' side, *he alone could annihilate us.*"
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