Ancient Imperial Calendar Year 1810
The months-long war between the assassins was over. Ricardo's assassins had left wounds on Xanros that could never be healed.
Xanros' most loyal, most talented and most intelligent servants had been killed.
Ricardo had repelled almost all of the attacks and assassinations against him and his surroundings.
The War Between Classes was fought by the upper classes to find out who was strong and who was weak by fighting the lower classes.
Killing was allowed in these wars.
In the Kislavein Dynasty, even breathing, let alone living, was a great insult to the Western Lands.
Those waiting in the huge Coliseum of the Academy were struck by a vague fear.
They were never supposed to show their fear because fear was the lover of death in the Western Lands and this feeling was something that should never be felt and never made to be felt.
Although on the surface these wars seemed like just the strong eliminating the weak, the real purpose was for the Heirs to be able to fight and the Throne wars to be held under control in a certain area.
The Headmaster of the Academy, Kisrael Kislavein, stood in the middle of the Coliseum, prepared for a short speech, strengthened his vocal cords and began to give his speech.
"Noble Masters and students of the Blood Academy, the apple of the eye of the Western Lands, the long awaited Inter-Class War has now begun."
A great applause broke out. Kisrael raised his hand.
"Silence," he said. A deathly silence fell over the coliseum. Kisrael continued his speech.
"Our rules are short and concise.
Killing and wounding are allowed.
Changing sides and playing dirty are allowed.
Commanders-in-Chief can join the war whenever they want.
If the Young Lord of either class dies, the war ends.
In short, there is nothing that restricts you. Fight as you wish and bring victory to your Young Lords.
Now, the Chief of the upper classes, Young Lord Xanros, and the Chief of the lower classes, Young Lord Ricardo, come to me."
Ricardo and Xanros walked towards the center. They stopped when they approached Grand Master Kisrael.
Everyone held their breath and waited for the decision of the Young Lords.
They both drew their swords at the same time and pointed them at each other.
This was a sign that these wars would not be fought in peace and friendship, but in hostility, hatred and blood.
It was the worst case scenario for everyone because there was no such thing as sparing lives.
Both sides would fight until their last drop of blood and continue fighting until one side was completely destroyed or until they killed the opposing side's Young Lord.
If they had just shaken hands, the deaths would have been minimized and most people would have returned home.
However, this was not the case in the war of the Heirs.
Everyone in the Colosseum was aware that this war would end with a huge pile of dead bodies.
But still everyone wanted to return home alive, even with a small hope.
Most of Xanros's side hated Xanros and wanted revenge on him, and this storm had come to their feet.
Kisrael raised his sword.
"There will be a hundred-man battle. Commanders-in-Chief, prepare your troops."
Ricardo turned his head towards Marco.
"Marco," he called out. He tilted his head to the left and made a sign.
Marco bowed his head respectfully; there was not even the slightest hesitation in his eyes. He and his soldiers approached the center.
Xanros turned to his most trusted man, Arlek.
"Arlek, go and kill them all. Bring me their heads."
In response to this order, Arlek and his soldiers approached the center. Arlek was accompanied by his sister Arnheid.
"Don't be afraid, sister," Arlek said.
"All the pain you have suffered will end today," he said confidently.
"I hope so, brother. If we are not successful today, I am afraid I might kill myself."
Arnheid's words, spoken in a shaky voice, angered Arlek.
On the other hand, he agreed with her.
After all the events Arnheid had experienced, all the pain, abuse, torture and much verbal and physical abuse, it was inevitable that she would think this way.
If Arlek were in her place, he would have killed himself long ago.
"Forgive me, Arnheid. I am responsible for everything you have experienced.
If I had been a little more careful that day,
If I had been able to protect Young Lord Jarvin, neither you nor I nor so many others would have suffered because of Xanros."
Arnheid had seen the sadness and pain in her brother's regretful eyes.
Arlek had been forced to watch everything that had happened to his sister.
He could not resist, he could not save his sister.
Young Lord Jarvin, who had always been their protector, had also been killed by Xanros' men.
If they had killed Xanros without the protection of another Young Lord, their House would have been destroyed.
Arlek took a deep breath.
"There is no use thinking about the past anymore," he thought seriously and began to look forward to his next move.
The two armies faced each other in the presence of Master Kisrael. Ricardo's army was led by Marco.
Xanros' army was led by Arlek.
Kisrael raised his sword in the air. Take position. Both sides took their positions. The battle would begin the moment Kisrael lowered his sword.
"Do you have any last words?" Kisrael asked.
"Yes, Master," said Arlek in a loud voice.
Arlek and his soldiers fell to their knees and bowed their heads.
Everyone who witnessed this scene was speechless in astonishment.
Xanros was the most furious, but he couldn't react because he couldn't get over his shock.
While Arlek was known as Xanros' most loyal man, what was this nonsense he was doing?
"Do you know the meaning of what you did, Arlek?" Kisrael asked.
"Yes, I know. Me and my soldiers swear loyalty to Young Lord Ricardo."
Xanros shouted angrily.
"WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE, ARLEK, YOU LOW BASTARD! THE DAY I BECOME A DYNASTY LORD, I WILL ERADICATE THE LINEAGE OF YOUR DYNASTY!"
Arlek stood up and turned around.
"Wake up from your dream now, Young Lord Xanros. You will never be a House Lord; you never had that capacity."
Xanros' veins swelled to the brink of bursting; his face turned red with anger. He wanted to rush forward and tear Arlek and Arnheid apart.
Arlek's betrayal was the first but not the last.
In the following rounds, mass switching of sides occurred frequently. Only 150 people remained on Xanros' side.
It was the end of the road for Xanros. Almost all of the third years had betrayed him.
He had become the laughing stock of the first-years watching them.
From now on, the only way he could turn things around was to kill Ricardo.
"I promise you that the day I become a Dynasty Lord, I will reward you all with more treasure, land and position than you could ever imagine.
So fight to the death with me today."
The reward was tempting, but the chances of success were low. Even they didn't know why they didn't switch sides and stayed with Xanros.
On the other side, Ricardo was watching them. He understood why the rest of them had not changed sides.
Benjen, who was next to Ricardo, asked curiously.
"Young Lord, why are they still with Xanros when everyone else has changed sides?"
"They are afraid," Ricardo replied.
Benjen became more curious this time.
"Fear? But isn't fear the greatest Sin in the Westerlands?"
"It is, but Xanros has instilled fear in them to such an extent that even now, when Xanros has collapsed, they cannot oppose him.
Just like the Westerners are afraid to go against the Dynasty Lord of Kislavein."
At that moment, a word came to Benjen's mind.
"So Fear is a sin for the Westerners but a weapon for the Dynasty."
Ricardo nodded in agreement.
"Exactly, Benjen. Exactly."
Ricardo drew his sword and signaled his regiment. The regiment began to follow Ricardo. They stopped when they reached the center.
Ricardo drew his sword and pointed it at Xanros.
"Xanros, if you still dare to call yourself the son of the Kislavein Dynasty Lord, here is your last chance to win the war with me."
The audience couldn't make sense of this incident. Why did Ricardo take an unnecessary risk when he was about to win?
Xanros grinned and drew his sword.
"CHARGE!"
The 150 people who received Xanros's attack order attacked uncontrollably and chaotically.
Ricardo wanted to use this situation as an opportunity to show his true power. He was now commanding thousands of people; he had to show his power if he wanted to establish his authority.
He leaned the sword he held in his left hand on his right shoulder and started to transfer his aura to his sword.
He forced his sword until it was on the verge of breaking. When Xanros and his soldiers started to approach him, he quickly swung his sword to the left.
The aura on the sword took shape and took the form of a sharp, thin crescent. Xanros reacted in time and used his existing aura and mana as a shield to protect himself.
But his men were not as lucky. They were all split in two like rags.
Xanros, who had lost his last soldiers, had nothing left to lose.
Ricardo cast an earth spell and created a giant stone to crush Xanros. When Xanros saw this, he wanted to run away, but Ricardo was not someone who liked to play with his prey.
The giant stone quickly headed towards Xanros. Xanros did everything he could to escape, but he could not escape. He was crushed under the stone.
Ricardo cast a speed spell, increased his speed, and went to Arlek and Arnheid, who were waiting at one end of the coliseum.
"Arlek, Arnheid, you have the chance for revenge. I command you, bring me the head of Xanros."
This command was an order they had prayed to hear thousands of times for a long time. They had the chance to separate the head of the person they hated most from his body.
The two siblings bowed their heads.
"Yes, my Young Lord."
The two siblings quickly went to Xanros, who was dying under the stone, with the acceleration spell. What they saw made them sick.
Half of Xanros' body was crushed, his internal organs were out. It was such a disgusting sight that even Arnheid, who had prayed thousands of times to see this sight, started to vomit.
Even Arlek felt sorry for the writhing of this man he hated.
"Aaaaaaaaa it hurts, please help me, please someone help me... please help me."
Tears were flowing from his eyes, his voice was shaky and broken. Arlek and Arnheid did not want to see this sight any longer. Arlek stepped aside.
"Arnheid, this is your right. You deserve to cut off this bastard's head the most."
Arnheid drew her sword without thinking twice. The revenge scenario that Arnheid had been planning for Xanros for a long time could now be realized.
Arnheid fell to her knees, and Xanros saw her.
"Arnheid, my one and only love, save me."
Arnheid put her hand in Xanros' mouth, strengthened her hand with her aura, and tore out Xanros' tongue with one move.
Xanros started to vomit blood and was in intense pain.
"Don't call me your love again. You make me sick. You won't be able to say my name again anyway. There is no easy death for you."
Arnheid's bloody revenge had already begun. It would be a slow and painful death. No one would intervene.
Everyone would just be a spectator because Arnheid was doing everything on Young Lord Ricardo's orders.
Arnheid first started gouging out Xanros' eyes, slowly cut off his ears, pulled out his teeth one by one, took his hair in her hands and pulled it out in an instant, pulled out his teeth and nails one by one, and finely chopped his fingers like a chef. Only a pile of flesh remained from Xanros.
All this time, Xanros had survived with the mana Arlek had given him, but even that wasn't enough anymore. As Xanros was about to take his last breath, Arnheid grabbed Arlek's arm.
"We'll both do the final blow, brother. You have a right to this revenge too."
Arlek laughed and grabbed Arnheid's sword.
"Let's kill this bastard, sister."
They quickly swung their swords, and Xanros' severed head rolled a few meters.
There was a deathly silence in the entire coliseum. The masters and students watched in horror. There were only two people who could keep their cool. Ricardo and Kisrael.
Kisrael raised his sword and strengthened his voice with mana.
"WINNER: YOUNG LORD RICARDO KISLAVEIN."
Everyone was startled by Kisrael's voice and reflexively stood up and started applauding.
Arlek and Arnheid approached Ricardo with the severed head of Xanros in their hands, knelt down, and presented the severed head to Ricardo.
"Young Lord, as you ordered, we brought your enemy's head to you."
Ricardo briefly looked at Xanros's severed head, which was now unrecognizable, and then turned away.
That evening Ricardo was tired and weary, and his state of mind was also worrying Giskar.
"What happened, Harloumen?"
He had not been addressed like that for a long time.
"I killed hundreds of my descendants, Giskar. Do you think it was right for me to go down this path? Would it have been better for me to leave the Dynasty that day?"
Giskar closed his eyes and thought for a while.
"Even if you left the Dynasty, nothing would change.
If you remember, in some books we read the life stories of the Young Lords who left the Dynasty on their 14th birthday.
There were even situations where they had to slaughter their relatives, I mean, Harloumen.
Now get over these. Neither in your previous life, nor in this life, nor in your next life if it happens, there will be situations where you will have to slaughter your relatives.
If you are going to stumble every time, kill yourself as soon as you are born. Because even if you do nothing, even if you stand there harmlessly and even if you always do good to those around you, someone will always hate the light in you and will do everything they can to extinguish your light. So keep moving forward and never hesitate. Do not give a chance to those who will harm you, even if it is your own brother."
Ricardo did not know what to say in the face of these words. It was as if he was getting advice from his father. He had never had proper communication with his fathers in either his previous life or his current life.
Ricardo stood up, took a deep breath, and came to his senses.
"You're right, Giskar. I can't get into this state every time. I have to be more resilient to realize my dream."
Giskar flew around Ricardo.
"Exactly, sir."
Ricardo looked out the window.
"Tomorrow Seth and Arlous will fight. Let's see how strong my brothers are."
Giskar said sarcastically.
"I'm sure they're weaker than you, sir, but I'm sure tomorrow's fight will be much bloodier."
Ricardo's face turned sour. He bowed his head and frowned.
"Tomorrow there will be much bloodshed. Although it would be good for me if the number of my enemies decreased, each of them are intelligent, talented and intellectual people who could play a great role in the development of the Western Lands and the world in the future.
Many people with great potential will die."
Giskar wanted to comfort Ricardo.
"Don't worry, sir. At least the Throne Wars here are ending with much fewer casualties than in the past.
When the fourth Emperor of the Ancient Empire, Bartholomeleus I, died, the population in the North, South, East, West and Central Lands had decreased by half due to the throne war started by his seven sons."
"Ah yes, this bloody war known as the Black Spot of the Harloussus Dynasty. If those seven honorless and dishonorable people had not committed genocide in every city they captured, these massacres would not have been used as an excuse and rebellions would not have occurred in the following generations."
Ricardo sighed deeply, lay down on his back in his bed, closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
"Let's get some sleep, Giskar. Tomorrow will be a long day."
"Exactly, sir. Obsessing over the past never helps anyone. Sleep tight, sir."
While Ricardo fell into a deep sleep, Giskar would stay up all night to protect his master.