Gael was born as the second heir of Britannia.
His father was a legendary warrior—yet never a good father. King Arthur was a man devoted solely to power. He saw mercy as weakness and love as unnecessary. Gael was always kept in the shadows—never truly acknowledged as a son, never treated as a rightful heir.
Yet Gael never bore resentment toward him.
He lived not as a prince, but as a barbarian. Strength became his creed. He grew through wounds, hardened by pain.
He desired only one thing:
to be seen by his father.
Then came the dark day.
King Arthur…
vanished as if he had never existed.
The Church seized Camelot. Sacred banners replaced the royal sigils upon the towers. The High King was gone—no body, no explanation.
That day, Gael was hurriedly smuggled out of the palace by Merlin.
As Merlin dragged him through the palace's hidden passages, Gael never looked back. The stone walls seemed to scream. Camelot was burning. Where Arthur's banner once flew, the Church's insignia now rose.
"Where is my father?" Gael demanded through clenched teeth.
Merlin did not answer.
That silence…
was heavier than any truth.
When they emerged from the underground tunnels into the dark forest, Merlin finally stopped. He planted his staff into the soil. He was exhausted. Old.
And for the first time… afraid.
"Did Arthur fall?" Gael asked.
Merlin whispered,
"Arthur… chose. And that choice destroyed Camelot."
Gael's fists trembled.
He had lived his entire life in his father's shadow. To earn his love, he had lived like a barbarian, sealing his blood with strength.
And now…
There was no confrontation.
No farewell.
Only emptiness.
Merlin took him north—beyond maps, to lands forgotten by the gods. There were no thrones there. No titles.
Only survival.
"You cannot be a prince here," Merlin said.
Gael lifted his head. Fire burned in his eyes.
"I never was one."
Years passed.
Gael's name was erased.
In its place, a legend was born.
A warrior who wore no armor, who fought with chains, who claimed his wounds as honor and pain as a teacher. When the forces of the Church entered those lands…
they never returned.
Whispers spread among the people:
"Arthur's son still lives."
Then hesitation.
"No," they said. "Someone far more terrifying."
Gael no longer sought his father's love.
Nor the throne.
He desired only one thing:
an ending written in blood for those who destroyed Camelot.
And when the Church's bells rang once more…
it was not for a king.
It was for the return of a barbarian.