The demon noble charged, and the world seemed to slow.
Eight exhausted squires stood between it and Alice—eight white flames flickering against the darkness, eight young warriors who'd barely survived lesser demons now facing something that had killed veteran knights with contempt.
Adrian's mind calculated with three hundred years of tactical experience. The demon was fast. Powerful. Intelligent. It would target Alice first—the prize, the princess, the reason for this entire ambush. Mira would intercept, would die protecting her charge. Then the others would fall one by one, too slow, too weak, too inexperienced to even slow it down.
Unless.
*The crimson flame screamed against his control, battering at the walls he'd built, demanding release. Let me out. Let me show this pretender what true demonic power looks like. Let me save them.
But to release it would reveal everything. Would mark him as demon prince. Would end his mission, his infiltration, his chance to understand why demons were rising again after three centuries.
Would doom everything he'd worked for.
The demon was ten feet away. Eight feet.
And then Brann moved.
"NO!" the red-haired squire roared, charging forward with his sword raised high, his white flame blazing with everything he had. "You don't touch them! You hear me, you bastard? YOU DON'T—"
The demon's claw flashed.
Brann's charge ended with horrifying finality. The demon's talons pierced through his chest, bursting out his back in a spray of blood. His white flame guttered and died. His sword fell from nerveless fingers.
"Brann!" Edric screamed.
The demon lifted Brann's body, studying him with something like curiosity. "Brave. Foolish. Dead."
It threw him aside like garbage. Brann's body hit the ground and didn't move, his eyes staring at nothing, his blood pooling beneath him.
Something inside Adrian shattered.
Not the walls containing his power—those he'd maintained through sheer will. But something else. Some last reservation, some calculation about mission priorities, some cold tactical assessment that had always put the larger goal above individual lives.
Brann was dead. The loudmouth, the joker, the one who'd complained about every drill and laughed through every hardship. The squadmate who'd clapped Adrian on the back after training, who'd shared food from packages sent from home, who'd trusted him completely.
Dead.
Because Adrian had hesitated. Had calculated. Had tried to preserve his mission instead of acting immediately.
No more.
No more lies. No more hiding. No more letting secrets cost lives.
"GET DOWN!" Adrian roared, his voice carrying command that made everyone—even the demon—pause for a fraction of a heartbeat.
Finn and Edric dropped instinctively. Alice and Mira exchanged a single glance—brief, meaningful, a lifetime of trust compressed into one look—and threw themselves flat.
Adrian's white flame exploded.
But it wasn't white anymore.
Crimson fire erupted along his blade like captured hellfire, blazing with such intensity it turned night into day. The air itself screamed, superheated by the sudden release of power that had been compressed, contained, hidden for months. The ground beneath Adrian's feet cracked, stone splitting from the sheer force radiating from him.
The demon noble froze mid-step, its burning eyes widening—not with recognition, but with confusion and dawning fear.
"What—" it breathed, staring at the crimson flame. "What is that?"
Adrian moved with a speed that made the world blur.
His crimson blade met the demon's claws in a clash that sent shockwaves rippling outward, forcing the prone squires to cover their ears against the thunderous impact. The force of it created a crater in the cobblestones beneath them.
"Impossible," the demon gasped, its confident demeanor cracking as it felt the power behind that strike. "That color—it's not—you're not—" Its eyes locked on Adrian's face, searching, confused. "You're human. How can a human—"
Adrian said nothing. His gray eyes had gone cold—colder than ice, colder than death, the kind of cold that came from three hundred years of warfare and the fresh wound of watching a friend die.
He simply attacked.
His blade moved with skill that shouldn't exist in a fifteen-year-old squire, each strike perfect, each movement economical. The crimson fire blazed along his sword with power that made even the demon noble's infernal strength seem inadequate by comparison.
The demon was forced back a step. Then another. Its confusion turned to genuine alarm as it tried to comprehend what it was facing.
Behind him, as Adrian pressed the attack, Alice pushed herself to her feet. Her eyes were locked on Adrian's crimson flame—on the impossible color blazing with power beyond anything she'd expected.
He'd revealed himself. Exposed the secret he'd been hiding. For them. For Brann.
She looked at Mira, and in that moment, they both knew. No more hiding. No more pretending. If Adrian was willing to risk everything to save them, they could do no less.
Alice's white flame flickered. Wavered. Then transformed.
Violet fire erupted along her blade—not the soft purple of twilight, but a deep, rich violet that seemed to pull light into itself rather than radiate it. The color of ancient legends, of stories told to children about heroes from ages past. The flame that hadn't been seen in Arathor for centuries, that existed only in fairy tales and half-remembered histories.
It blazed with power that made the air itself feel heavier, denser, as if reality bowed to its presence.
Mira's response was immediate. Her white flame exploded into brilliant orange—the color of House Elbrecht, the guardian flame. But this wasn't just any orange. It carried weight, history, the accumulated oaths of generations who'd stood beside the Halebright bloodline for centuries.
The demon noble, pressed back by Adrian's assault, saw the new flames and its eyes went wider still.
"No," it breathed, genuine fear entering its voice. "That's—that can't be—violet? True violet? But that's a myth!"
Alice charged forward, her violet flame blazing. "For Brann! For those who fell!"
Mira was at her side instantly. "For the oath!"
Three blades pressed the demon back—crimson, violet, orange. Three impossible colors blazing in the darkness.
"This cannot be!" the demon shrieked, black ichor flowing from wounds. "Three colors that violate everything—"
The demon staggered, realizing it was losing. Actually losing. To children wielding flames that shouldn't exist.
It had to act.
The demon's burning eyes locked on Adrian. Its rune-marked skin began to pulse with sickly red light.
"If I am to fall, I will not fall weak!"
Its claws traced symbols in the air. The runes carved into its flesh blazed brighter as it spoke in demonic tongue.
"Blood of the fallen, power of the slain, heed your master's call!"
Finn's eyes widened from where he crouched. "Gods—it's going to use blood anima! Just like in the lectures!"
"It's actually doing it," Edric breathed. "The technique Instructor Halbrecht described—"
Adrian moved to interrupt—
The demon's hand snapped out, catching Adrian's wrist with binding magic. Invisible chains wrapped around him. His body locked, muscles refusing to obey, his crimson flame flickering as the binding constricted.
"Adrian!" Alice shouted.
"Stay back!" the demon roared, completing the blood ritual.
The blood pooling across the battlefield suddenly moved. It flowed like living liquid, streams converging on the demon from all directions.
"No," Mira whispered. "The anima blade technique—"
"We learned about it," Finn said hollowly. "But seeing it actually happen—"
The blood reached the demon and was absorbed through its skin. Where it touched, the demon's runes blazed brighter. Wounds began to close as stolen life force fueled regeneration.
"The blood of knights," the demon intoned as Thorne's blood powered its runes. "The blood of warriors."
More blood flowed—from eight dead squires, from Sir Gregor, from Brann.
"Brann," Edric choked. "It's using Brann's blood—"
The demon's body transformed. Muscles swelled. Frame growing to nearly eight feet. Runes blazing like brands, powered by a dozen stolen lives.
"This is what Instructor Halbrecht warned us about," Finn said. "Blood anima. But seeing it—watching Brann's blood feed that thing—"
The demon released Adrian with contemptuous confidence.
Adrian stumbled back, crimson flame reigniting. But the demon's power had multiplied.
"Now," the demon said, voice carrying the weight of consumed warriors, "shall we begin again?"
It moved with terrifying speed.
Mira blocked its strike and was driven back, arms trembling. "It's too strong! The blood made it too strong!"
And then Finn felt something break open inside him. Not just horror at witnessing theory become reality. Rage at watching Brann's death become the enemy's power.
His white flame blazed into brilliant yellow—the purifying light.
"No," Finn said. "The lectures said yellow flame is blood anima's greatest weakness."
He charged forward.
Edric's white flame shifted to steady green. "For Brann! We don't let this monster win!"
Five colored flames—crimson, violet, orange, yellow, green.
The demon's confidence wavered seeing yellow light. "The purifying light?"
Finn's yellow blade struck and the demon screamed. The yellow flame disrupted the stolen blood.
"Just like Instructor Halbrecht taught," Finn said grimly. "Yellow flame unravels blood anima."
Adrian saw the opening. "Together! All of us! Now!"
Five warriors struck as one. Adrian's crimson high. Alice's violet from the right. Mira's orange left. Edric's green center. Finn's yellow disrupting the stolen power.
The demon staggered as yellow flame destabilized the blood enhancement.
"You stole it," Alice said coldly. "Their strength was never yours."
Her violet struck true. Adrian's crimson followed. Mira's orange carved through. Edric's green held. Finn's yellow burned away the stolen blood.
"What are you?" the demon gasped, staring at five impossible flames.
"The future you won't see," Alice said.
Adrian's crimson blade took its head.
The body collapsed. Silence fell.
Five figures stood around the corpse, breathing hard. Alive.
Finn's yellow flame flickered. "I remembered. From Halbrecht's lecture. Yellow disrupts blood anima. I thought it was just theory."
"Learning about it and seeing it," Edric said quietly. "Seeing Brann's blood—it's different."
"The lectures prepared us for the concept," Finn said. "But not for the horror of watching our friends become the enemy's power."
Slowly, they turned to each other.
"Alice," Finn said. "That violet..."
"The stories say violet hasn't been seen in three hundred years," Edric added.
Marcus stared. "And House Elbrecht's guardian oath. Which means—"
Finn's yellow light illuminated understanding. "The demon called her princess. You're a Halebright."
Alice's violet flame blazed in confirmation.
"And you," Finn said, turning to Adrian. "Your crimson. What are you?"
Adrian's crimson flame died, returning his sword to steel. He looked at them—at people who'd just seen everything turn upside down.
And he made his decision.
"I don't know what this color means," he said. "I've had it since I first manifested. Hidden it because I knew they'd kill me for it."
He looked at Brann's body, and something in his expression hardened.
"But I'm done hiding. Brann died because I hesitated. Because I tried to protect my secret instead of acting immediately. His death paid the price for my lies."
His voice carried finality.
"I'm done lying. Done hiding. When we report what happened here, I'm telling the truth. About the crimson. About everything."
"Adrian—" Alice started.
"No," Adrian interrupted, his gray eyes hard. "Brann trusted me completely. Died trying to protect us. And I let him die because I was too busy calculating how to preserve my cover. I won't dishonor his sacrifice by continuing to live a lie."
Alice's violet flame pulsed with alarm. "If you reveal crimson flame—unprecedented, unknown—they'll imprison you. Study you. Dissect you trying to understand it."
"Maybe," Adrian said quietly. "But at least I'll be honest. At least no one else will die because I hesitated to act."
"You're not thinking clearly," Mira said, her orange flame steady. "You're in shock. Grieving. This isn't the time to make decisions that can't be undone."
"I've never been more clear," Adrian countered. "Three hundred—" He caught himself, adjusted. "I've spent months hiding. Calculating every move, every word, every display of power. And it cost Brann his life."
"You can't know that," Edric said, his green flame pulsing. "Brann charged on his own. That was his choice."
"A choice he made because I wasn't already fighting," Adrian said. "Because I was still weighing options, still protecting my secret, when I should have been protecting him."
His jaw set.
"I'm reporting the truth. The crimson. That I've been hiding it. That it's powerful enough to kill demon nobles. Let them do what they will with that information."
Alice stepped forward, her violet flame blazing with royal authority. "And what about everyone else? What about me? What about Mira?"
Adrian met her gaze. "That's your choice. I'm not asking you to reveal yourselves. But I'm done hiding."
"You don't understand," Alice said, frustration bleeding into her voice. "If you reveal unprecedented crimson flame, they'll investigate everything. Everyone you've trained with, fought beside, lived with. They'll interrogate us all endlessly. Your revelation won't just affect you—it affects all of us."
"Then I'm sorry," Adrian said simply. "But I can't keep living like this. Not after tonight. Not after Brann."
Finn's yellow light flickered as his analytical mind worked. "He's right that revealing will cause investigations. But he's also right that secrets have costs. We just watched a demon use blood anima—a technique we learned about but had never seen. Theory versus reality. Maybe the same applies to crimson flame. Maybe the truth, however dangerous, is better than more secrets."
"Or maybe it gets him killed," Mira said bluntly. "And accomplishes nothing except satisfying his guilt."
"It's not about guilt," Adrian said quietly. "It's about not letting anyone else pay the price for my deceptions. Brann's death taught me that secrets aren't free. Someone always pays. And I'm done letting it be the people who trust me."
Silence stretched between them.
"If you do this," Alice said finally, her violet flame dimming, "I can't protect you. My father's court, the knight academy, they'll want answers you can't give. They'll assume you're corrupted, demonic, a threat."
"I know," Adrian said.
"They might execute you," Finn added. "Unknown flame, unprecedented power—you represent the unknown, and people fear the unknown."
"I know," Adrian repeated.
"Brann wouldn't want this," Edric said, tears on his face. "He wouldn't want you to sacrifice yourself out of guilt for his death."
Adrian looked at his friend's body one more time. "Maybe not. But he'd understand choosing honesty over deception. He was always honest. Loudly, obnoxiously honest." A brief, broken smile. "I should have been more like him."
He turned back to the others.
"When we report, I'm telling the truth about the crimson. About hiding it. About using it tonight. You can tell whatever story you need about your own colors, your own secrets. But I'm done lying."
Alice's jaw tightened, her violet flame pulsing with frustration and something that might have been respect. "You're a fool. A noble fool, perhaps, but still a fool."
"Probably," Adrian agreed. "But I'm a fool who won't let anyone else die for my secrets."
In the distance, dawn touched the horizon.
A new day. One where Adrian Blackthorn would face the consequences of truth rather than the cost of lies.
For better or worse, the hiding was over.