Chapter 35 – The Fate of a King
That very night,
Arthur's chamber was vast, lit only by the cold glow of the moon filtering through a large frozen crystal window. The young king sat on the edge of the bed, his cloak still on his shoulders, too exhausted to change. But it was not the fatigue of the body that weighed on him—it was that of the heart.
He took a small pendant from around his neck and brought it to his lips. Inside was a faded miniature: his father, his mother, and himself as a carefree child.
His fingers trembled. His voice broke.
— "Father… Mother… am I doing right?"
The words died in the silence. The moon illuminated his youthful features: only seventeen years old, and already the king of a wounded country. His frail shoulders bore the weight of thousands of lives, yet in this icy room, he was just a lost orphan.
Tears slipped down, falling onto the cold metal of the pendant.
— "It hurts… so much…" he whispered. "I'm afraid of falling, afraid of being just a child playing at being king. And… Damian… the only person I would call a friend…"
His voice grew nearly inaudible. His lips twisted in pain, as if each word tore a piece of him away.
— "I have no one left… I need you… guide me…"
Only the wind of Atlantis replied, howling against the windows like an eternal lament.
Arthur curled up, clutching the pendant to his chest, tears flowing freely. In the shadow of the room, Merlin watched silently. He felt every emotion through the necklace he had enchanted himself, an artifact once entrusted to him by Arthur's father to protect his son.
And Merlin wept too, silently. Quiet tears, heavy with compassion.
— "Do not worry, Your Majesty… you are already more of a king than you realize. But your wounds… your wounds are those of a child I never managed to protect," he thought.
The cold bit through the chamber, but it was not that which froze the heart—it was the solitude.
Meanwhile, in Britania…
The city slept peacefully, lit by the guards' torches. Glann, a loyal captain, walked through the still-awake streets of the capital, his steps heavy but calm. He loved this nocturnal ritual, the silent patrol, as if to protect his king even from a distance.
But that night, something changed.
A shadow slid across the rooftops. Not a sound, not a breath. The air grew heavier, as if the city itself was holding its breath. The torches flickered, their flames wavering in a cold breeze.
Glann stopped, his hand instinctively moving toward the hilt of his sword.
— "Who goes there?" he called, his voice firm.
A figure finally appeared, walking slowly in the middle of the street, as if emerging from the darkness itself. Its face was covered by a black mask engraved with ancient runes, eyes invisible behind narrow slits. A long dark cloak swept the ground, absorbing light.
Each step echoed like a verdict.
A chill ran down Glann's spine. This presence was not human.
— "You dare defile Britania at night? Show your face!"
The stranger stopped a few meters away, tilting his head slightly. Then a deep voice, like a whisper from the depths of a tomb, resonated:
— "The time of kings is ending. The flames of Britania will be extinguished… and your young sovereign will fall before he even understands why."
Glann gritted his teeth.
— "If you wish to reach my king, you'll have to go through my corpse first."
A dull breath, like a muffled laugh, echoed through the street.
— "So be it."
The atmosphere was icy, heavy with an unsettling silence. In the deserted alley, Glann faced the masked stranger: Fendreid.
His dark aura rippled, and behind him, ethereal chains emerged from the shadows, striking the ground with a metallic clatter.
Glann drew his sword, his breath forming white mist.
— "One more step… and I'll cut you down."
An invisible smile seemed to form under Fendreid's mask.
— "Try it, then."
Glann raised his blade, crystalline light bursting forth. His body was covered in glowing blue runic tattoos.
— "Runic Arcane Magic!"
He traced a luminous circle in the air, and a slashing wave of energy tore through the street toward Fendreid.
But a black chain erupted from the ground, wrapping around the spell and crushing it with a sinister crack.
Fendreid laughed.
— "Pathetic. You think your light can break my chains?"
He snapped his fingers. Ten chains shot forward at once, striking toward Glann like serpents.
Glann dodged with speed, letting his runes glow brighter. He drove his sword into the ground:
— "Runic Wall!"
A gigantic blue circle appeared, forming a protective barrier. The chains struck it, sparking, but the barrier held only for a few seconds.
Fendreid gestured, and the chains multiplied. They intertwined, coiled, and pierced the runic barrier like shattered glass.
— "No…!" Glann shouted.
A chain pierced his shoulder, another his thigh. He screamed but retaliated, releasing a runic blast that exploded toward Fendreid. Smoke filled the street.
A moment of silence.
Then a cold voice resonated:
— "You… have scratched my mask."
The smoke cleared. Fendreid was unharmed, barely a crack on his mask. His chains swirled with unleashed fury.
They pierced Glann from every direction, transfixing his flesh, chest, and legs. Blood spurted onto the cobblestones.
— "AAAAAH!!!"
Glann fell to his knees, his sword sliding from his hand.
Fendreid raised a hand, and the chains lifted Glann's body, tying him like a broken puppet. They suspended him from a lamppost, his mutilated body swinging in the night, still alive but agonizing.
Fendreid exhaled softly:
— "A weak king deserves weak knights. This is your legacy… Britania."
In the capital, Gosh, Glann's twin brother, awaited his return. Worried, he stepped into the street, having also sensed Glann's weakening energy.
— "Glann?… Why aren't you back yet…"
He ran toward the place where he had just heard the explosion.
He stopped. His eyes widened in horror.
His brother hung before him, pierced, suspended by black chains, blood dripping onto the cobblestones.
— "GLAAANN!!!" Gosh screamed, his voice echoing through the city.
He drew his enchanted daggers, ready to charge. But then…
The street trembled. The ground cracked, stones shattered.
A bestial roar rose.
From the earth emerged a colossal monster, over five meters tall, its skin made of black rock and red flames. Its burning eyes glared with fury.
— "Behold Ezer," Fendreid said coldly. "The colossus that will crush your bones."
The monster leapt at Gosh with unimaginable brutality. Its fist struck like a mountain. Gosh narrowly dodged, vanishing in a flash.
— "Runic Teleportation!" he shouted.
But barely had he reappeared further away than the colossus was already upon him, its supernatural speed defying its size. Ezer delivered a monstrous kick, hurling him into a stone building, breaking it into pieces.
Gosh spat blood, his eyes blurred with pain.
— "Impossible… he's… too strong… what kind of strike was that???"
He attempted another teleportation to escape. But Ezer caught him mid-air by the leg and slammed him to the ground like a doll. The shock made the entire royal district tremble, shattering the earth.
Fendreid, indifferent, raised his arms. Dozens of black chains erupted, spreading through the streets like steel serpents. They crashed onto houses, crushing them, tearing roofs apart, burying inhabitants under rubble.
Cries rose into the night. Families tried to flee, but the chains blocked the streets, falling on the unfortunate.
— "Alert! Attack!!!" a guard shouted, ringing the alarm bell.
The bells tolled throughout the capital. Soldiers rushed in, but as soon as they approached, the chains impaled them, suspending them like bloody puppets.
Ezer pounded houses with titanic fists, pulverizing walls and stones like paper.
Gosh barely teleported to safety, panting, his left arm broken, blood in his eyes.
He saw the soldiers, his men, falling one by one, massacred by two demons that no blade seemed able to harm.
Fendreid spread his arms, his chains covering half the city.
— "Tonight is only a prelude… At dawn, Britania will be in ruins. And your king… will be next."
The screams of the inhabitants, blood, and fire began to engulf the capital. That night, Britania entered its first night of hell.
---
To be continued…