While the group sat in the tavern, gazing out the windows, a new threat emerged in the dark alleys of the city…
Night had fully descended upon the city, and the narrow streets had turned into a labyrinth of shadows, where something dangerous stirred. The lanterns offered only fragile light, barely dispelling the darkness. In the distance, the sound of metal clashing and muffled cries echoed, quickly fading away.
Two drunken adventurers, barely staying on their feet, stumbled past one of the dark alleys when suddenly something whistled through the air. One of them froze, clutching his throat with spasms. His eyes widened, and blood sprayed from his mouth. His companion didn't even have time to react before a dark figure leaped from above, its sharp claws snapping shut.
— "What the...?" — his last words were drowned in a blood-choked rasp.
The mysterious assailant vanished without a sound, leaving only the corpses behind.
At that moment, in the "Brown Bear" tavern, Kano had no idea that their night stroll could turn into a trap.
— "I'm going out for some air," — he said, getting up from his seat.
— "Are you sure you want to wander the city at this hour?" — Naira asked suspiciously, eyeing him.
— "If anything happens, I'm with him," — Lianel immediately declared, standing up.
Sheila snorted, hiding a smile.
— "Oh, what about us? Should we all go together?"
Rudgard, finishing his fifth mug, waved his hand.
— "Not with me, I'm not going anywhere! You guys enjoy wandering around the city."
Selina glanced at Kano with concern but ultimately stayed silent.
They left the tavern, immediately sensing the tension in the air. The city, which had recently been alive with bustling activity, now felt eerily quiet. In the distance, voices could be heard, but the overall atmosphere was like that before a storm.
Kano walked ahead, surveying the streets, while Lianel and Sheila walked beside him. They turned into one of the alleys… and almost immediately, the metallic scent of blood hit their noses.
On the ground lay two men, their faces twisted in horror, and blood still slowly oozed from the wound on their necks.
— "These aren't just thieves..." — Lianel whispered, examining the marks. — "Look at the cuts... These are from something with incredibly sharp claws."
Kano clenched his fists.
— "Whatever it is, it's still here..."
Suddenly, from the depths of the alley, there was a rustling sound, and from the darkness, a tall figure in a dark cloak slowly emerged. Its eyes glowed with a bloody red reflection. The stranger tilted his head, as though studying them, then stretched his lips into a predatory grin.
— "Your city is doomed… No peaceful nights ahead," — his cold voice echoed.
Lianel instantly drew her bow, and a magical arrow formed from pure mana, flowing directly from her fingers. Her gaze was cold, resolute.
— "You're the one who's doomed, beast!" — she shouted and released the arrow.
In an instant, the stranger vanished into the air, as though he had never been there. The arrow briefly illuminated the alley, then dissolved back into the darkness.
Suddenly, a terrible, piercing scream rang out from the sky. A wyvern. Its roar made Kano clutch his ears and fall to his knees. Lianel and Sheila froze in shock.
— "A wyvern... in the city?!" — Sheila exclaimed.
Without wasting any time, they all rushed toward the guild. What was happening tonight could be the work of some malicious force.
Meanwhile, the queen stood on the balcony of her castle, her fingers gripping the railing so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The cold stone was wet from the damp night mist, but she felt no chill. Only one emotion grew within her chest—panic, the kind that squeezed her throat, making it hard to breathe.
Below, in front of the castle, a crowd had gathered. Her people. Huddled under the pressure of the enemy army, they stood silently, like statues, their eyes wide with fear. Parents hid their children behind their backs, mothers covered their little ones' mouths to keep them from crying. The queen saw their shoulders trembling, how the men clenched their fists, though they knew there was no point in fighting. They couldn't do anything. No one could.
Her capital wasn't being plundered. The new king's soldiers weren't running riot, burning houses, raping women in the streets—and that was the most terrifying part. They waited. Their hands rested on the hilts of their swords, their eyes burned with impatience, but they did not move. They knew they would be allowed to act when the time came.
And that time could come at any moment.
She turned her gaze to him.
Valdegar Lokris stood on a raised platform in the center of the square, as if he were an actor on stage. Tall, stately, in a luxurious cloak draped over his shoulders. His posture was proud, confident. He wasn't nervous, wasn't frowning, wasn't looking for his people's approval—he had already won, and he knew it. He had come here to take what was his.
His face… repulsive, off-putting. Refined, even noble, but his smile twisted it—slick, narcissistic, disgusting. His eyes—two dark holes that seemed to devour her from the inside. The gaze made the queen want to wash her face, to cleanse herself of that invisible, filthy layer. He never looked away. He drank her in, savoring the moment.
She knew what he was thinking. She saw his lust. He hadn't come just for the crown. He had come for her.
Her heart froze. She couldn't move.
Images slammed into her head one after another. She had already seen her future. She was no longer a queen. She was an object. A doll that belonged to him. She would stand behind his throne in tattered robes he would force upon her. Her eyes would always be downcast, her voice would hold no weight. She would be on her knees. She would be obedient. She would not be herself.
He would break her. And she wouldn't be able to resist.
Her body tensed, her stomach twisted so violently that she felt nauseous. She could feel cold sweat crawling down her skin. Her hands clenched to the point of pain. Her lips trembled.
She couldn't allow this.
But there was no choice.
And beside him stood the orcs.
Repulsive, towering, beast-like creatures with filthy green skin, covered in scars and tattoos. Their shoulders were broader than any human's, their eyes burning with a dark intellect. They were silent, but their silence was more terrifying than any roar. They too were waiting.
One of them, the largest, stepped forward. His muscular arms were covered in scars, and yellow fangs gleamed in his smile. He looked at the crowd of people before him, like a wolf assessing lambs before tearing them apart.
The crowd froze. The people stopped breathing.
The queen imagined herself before these monsters. How her hands would twitch and then be thrown at the feet of the new king. How they would force her to lift her head. How they would make her smile. How they would make her… do anything he wished. Everything he wanted. No refusals, no right to protest. She would be his doll. His toy. His slave.
This wasn't death. It was worse than death.
At that moment, the doors of the throne room creaked open. Her advisor entered the room, his eyes red from tears of fear.
— "Your Majesty… They are waiting."
Her body refused to move. Her legs wouldn't obey her. Everything within her screamed to run! But where? How?
She looked down once more. Her people, her subjects… They were begging her for salvation. And the only salvation she could offer them was to submit.
Her lips quivered imperceptibly, but she suppressed the fear. She gathered all the strength she had left and took a deep breath.
Queen Lianisa straightened her shoulders, lifted her head, and took a step forward.