Valen reached the Great King's Tomb — a colossal ancient tree whose trunk glowed faintly with elven magic.
But all of that faded into the background when he saw the being waiting before it.
A towering silhouette.
Feathers as black as starless midnight.
A long, hooked crow-beak mask hiding his face.
A heavy, tattered ritual robe draped over a humanoid body thick and powerful enough to snap stone with its hands.
His arms were too long, ending in claw-like fingers.
And behind the mask, two faint crimson lights glowed, watching Valen with predatory delight.
He looked like a crow distorted into a man, or a man cursed into a monstrous carrion bird.
Asmeon.
He opened his arms as if greeting an honored guest — or prey walking into a trap.
Asmeon
"Welcome, sweet child of Noir.
I have been waiting far longer than you can imagine."
Valen's hand moved to his sword.
Valen
"What do you want from me… demon?"
The air turned heavy.
Asmeon did not move, but a wave of killing intent burst from him — sharp, suffocating, ancient.
His robe fluttered.
Feathers scattered across the ground.
Asmeon
"That is NOT how you address your elders…
especially when your entire bloodline was forged in fear of my kind."
The pressure lifted.
The mocking tone returned.
"But ignorance suits humans.
Let me enlighten you, little Noir."
He stepped forward.
Each step made the roots around him recoil, as if nature itself refused to touch him.
"Long before Vaelgard became an Empire,
your ancestors were nothing but a starving young House — weak, desperate, prey for the north.
To survive, they fought us, the demons.
War after war.
Winter after winter."
He tapped a long talon against his beak mask, amused.
"But instead of enduring with honor,
the First Patriarch ran crying to the elves."
Valen grit his teeth.
"They promised aid.
Supplies, healers, soldiers.
And in return, Noir swore to protect their forests and give them safe passage.
A sweet little pact, yes?"
He leaned in, towering over Valen like a vengeful spirit of ravens.
"Except the elves LIED."
He snapped his clawed fingers.
"When demons crushed the Noirs to their last breath,
the elves sent nothing.
No blades.
No food.
Not even a single healer's staff.
House Noir bled alone.
Yet the patriarch still kept his word."
His voice darkened.
"And how did Vaelgard repay such loyalty?
By forbidding revenge.
By silencing the Noirs.
By using them as a shield against us."
He pressed a claw to Valen's chest.
"They used you.
The elves betrayed you.
Vaelgard muzzled you.
And your family bowed."
"And here lies the insult carved into wood:
The Elf King demanded to be buried with the treaty,
so no Noir could ever tear it apart.
A monument to your ancestors' humiliation."
Valen's fists trembled.
The demon raised his hand.
A swirling illusion appeared:
Daphne, Lyra, and Elliot — beaten, bound by cursed runes, barely breathing.
Valen's heart shattered.
"My request is simple:
Erase the elves.
End the oath-breakers.
And your friends… live."
Valen's voice cracked.
Valen
"…Fine.
I'll do it."
Asmeon bowed deeply, feathers falling around him like black snow.
Asmeon
"Good boy."
Valen turned away, unaware that behind the beak mask, a wicked smile spread wide — too wide to belong to anything human.
( If you're enjoying Valen's journey, please add it to your Library — it helps a lot! )