The knight on the wall blinked hard, trying to fight the weight pressing against his eyelids. His body screamed for rest, but his duty chained him to the post. Just as his head drooped, the thunder of hooves jolted him awake.
Through blurred vision, he saw them, banners of the investigation team, riding like men pursued by death itself. Even in his weariness, he recognized them instantly.
"Open the gates! The investigation returns!" he bellowed, voice cracking through the night.
The great doors groaned open, their iron and oak echoing like a drum of doom. The sound rattled along the battlements, and even the swords hanging on the wall quivered against the stone.
The riders did not slow. They stormed past the threshold, hooves striking sparks against the cobbles, a black urgency clinging to them. At the front rode the captain, but he was not alone. Draped across his arms was a woman, pale, trembling, half-conscious. Behind him, the rest of the knights followed like shadows.
The streets of Artwine were alive with merchants and townsfolk, but the thunder of the charge cut through their noise. Faces turned. The people scattered to the sides, making way as if the riders carried plague itself. They knew: knights never rode so fiercely unless something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Through winding streets and up the main road, the team pushed on. The horses, though foaming and strained, did not falter until they reached the palace gates.
The captain dismounted, his armor stained with dust from the road. He shifted his burden carefully. The woman in his arms was limp, her breath shallow, her skin almost translucent in the morning light.
"Clear the way!" he roared as he strode forward. The guards obeyed instantly. The sight of the woman struck whispers among them, but no one dared ask.
Alisha's head rested against the captain's chest, her eyes half-shut. Too weak to walk. Too weak to speak. But alive.
And the palace doors yawned open before them.
The captain held Alisha firmly as he entered the king's chamber. She was weak, barely able to keep her head upright, so he carried her in his arms. Her body was light, fragile, as if most of her strength had already been left on the road.
Inside, King Voldin Bravero Malvin sat comfortably in his chamber, a book in his hand. The quiet moment was broken when a knock came at the door.
"Sir, you have a visitor," said a servant.
"Let him in," the king replied without lifting his eyes from the page.
The door opened and the captain stepped forward. His armor bore dust from the road, his expression tense.
"You're already here," the king said, finally closing his book and giving him a sharp look. "Have you found the truth?"
The captain bowed slightly. "Sir, while on the road we came across someone, she had something you should hear. She is also from the Futama village. I thought it better to let her speak directly to you. With your permission, may I bring her forward?"
The king gave a single nod.
The captain turned. "Bring her in."
Alisha stirred, trying to stand on her own, though her legs shook violently. The captain helped her steady herself until she was upright before the king. She was dizzy, her breath shallow, but even in her weakness she understood the weight of where she stood, before King Voldin Bravero Malvin himself.
The king's sharp gaze studied her closely. His curiosity, and suspicion, were evident.
"Tell him what you told me," the captain said firmly, stepping back.
Alisha swallowed, her lips trembling as she forced the words out. "The demons… they came. They burned everything. The Futama village is gone. I—I'm the only one left."
The king's expression hardened. His fingers gripped the armrest of his chair until his knuckles whitened.
"Are you certain?" his voice was low, dangerous.
Her knees nearly buckled, but she nodded. "I saw it… I saw everything with my own eyes. The others, they didn't survive. The demons will be here tonight."
A silence fell over the chamber. The knights exchanged glances, unease written across their faces. Even the captain lowered his head, his jaw tightening.
The king leaned forward, his stare never leaving Alisha. "Then the war has already reached our doorstep."
"Such loyalty to the kingdom," the king said, voice smooth.
"No," Alisha answered, voice thin. "I came to inform our hero."
"Your hero? Who is this 'your hero'?" the king asked, eyes narrowing.
"Sir, Hero Dracula. He left the village, saying he was heading to the Artwine Kingdom. He left with a girl on a white dragon."
The king's face went still. "Very well. So you knew of his arrival here. I'm sorry, my dear, but if you know this, I cannot let you go free."
"Captain, take her to the torture chamber. Drain her whole blood," the king ordered, cold as stone.
"What? Wait, please, no. What are you doing?" the captain blurted, stepping forward.
"Make sure nobody knows about this," the king said, turning his gaze back to the window as if the matter were settled.
The captain's jaw clenched. He glanced at Alisha, pale, trembling and then bowed stiffly. "As you command, Your Majesty."
As two knights moved in to seize her, Alisha cried out, "No, please! He's the hero, he'll come—"
The king approached Liana, who was whispering to the dragon to calm its restlessness. His tone was cold and sharp.
"You didn't mention that the villagers were aware of the hero's arrival here."
Liana lowered her head. "My king, I am terribly sorry."
The king's lips curled into a grim smirk. "It doesn't matter anymore. The demons slaughtered the entire village, and I've already taken care of the last survivor."
"The demons… they're here already?" Liana asked carefully.
"Yes," the king replied, his voice heavy with urgency. "From the information I just received, they'll reach this kingdom by tonight. We must leave now, before it's too late."
"As you wish, my king," Liana said, her voice steady though her eyes betrayed unease.
The two climbed onto the dragon, its massive wings spreading wide as it prepared to take flight. With a roar, it soared into the darkening sky, carrying them away.
From a balcony high above, Princess Isabel Brovero Malvin watched in silence. Her eyes widened with disbelief as she realized, her father, King Voldin, was abandoning the kingdom.
Inside the damp prison chamber, the hero hung weakly against the blood-red veins that bound his arms to the pillars. His head lolled forward, words slipping out in a half-conscious haze.
"This… hurts… just release me already," he muttered, his voice cracking from exhaustion.
The royal scientist ignored him, adjusting the instruments that siphoned the golden energy coursing through the veins. His eyes gleamed with obsession, too focused on the readings to care about the prisoner's suffering.
Then, the heavy iron door creaked open. The sound echoed like a judgment bell. Princess Isabel stepped inside, her footsteps steady but her eyes sharp, scanning the scene.
The scientist immediately set down his tools and bowed deeply. "Princess, is there anything I can assist you with?"
Her voice was calm but edged with authority. "Leave."
"Pardon? I must have misheard—"
"I said leave. Now." Her tone cut like a blade.
The scientist froze for a moment, then quickly gathered his notes and slipped out, leaving the chamber cloaked in silence, save for the ragged breathing of the hero.
Isabel stepped closer, her gaze softening as she studied his worn face. "Do you hear me?"
The hero lifted his head with a weak grin. "Of course I can hear you. I'm not deaf, just nailed to a couple of cursed trees."
Her lips twitched at his bitter humor, but she pressed on. "I want to ask you something… Are you truly a hero?"
The hero chuckled hoarsely, his eyes glinting with defiance. "Well, your father swore I wasn't one, then turned around and admitted that I am. So… I guess that makes me the real deal, doesn't it?"
"Your father's a ruthless man," the hero said, voice low and hard. "He's the one who put me here. Tell him this: I won't forget. When I'm free, he'll die by my hand."
The princess met his glare, voice steady but small. "He's not here."
"What—he ran?"
"I don't know. He left. That's not like him. Something's wrong. It feels… wrong."
The hero laughed once, hollow. "So why are you here, then?"
She stepped closer, eyes pleading. "If danger comes, will you help us?"
He spat the answer. "No. Why should I? Your people nailed me to those pillars and call me a savior now?"
Her jaw tightened. "Even if you refuse, I'll free you anyway. When the time comes, I'll open your cell. Whether you save us will be your choice. I believe you, sir hero."
He watched her for a long beat, then sneered. "Believe all you want."
'dream on, princess. I won't save your kingdom, even if it kills me.'
"Why are you so sure something will happen?" the hero asked.
"The investigation team you sent returned," the princess replied. "They brought a woman with them, I think she was from Futama."
"What's her name?"
"I don't know. That's all I could learn. It doesn't feel right. She's nowhere to be found in the kingdom now."
'I hope it isn't Alisha.'
"I must go. Please, don't forget." The princess stepped back, urgency in her voice.