"Oh my, did I interrupt your little family moment?" His sharp eyes glinted as he sneered. "Too bad. It's time to punish the traitors."
The king and Eric both frowned.
Eric's grip on his bleeding hand tightened, holding himself back from lunging at Zaskar.
Anyway, Zaskar wasn't someone Eric or the king could fight. He was a Severan—basically one of the strongest people out there.
"Must feel real nice, being a Severan, huh?" the king muttered bitterly, standing beside Eric.
Zaskar's grin widened. He took a step closer to the desk.
"Of course it does." He twirled, arms spread wide. "This world belongs to Lord Sakaris. And with him gone, his successor named me one of the Eight Severans—the commanders of the greatest army in existence. Best part?" He grinned. "No one can stand in my way. Not even some isolated little king."
His hands dropped, and his face turned serious, threatening. "But today… I'm not in a good mood. I traveled all the way to Arindor to catch a little mouse, but her nest was empty. Tch. That pisses me off. And trust me, you don't want me pissed. So—we're going to get along. Yes?"
The king and Eric clenched their jaws. They knew this was bad. Maybe the laws still existed on paper, but Zaskar was free to bend them however he pleased.
After all, he was one of Sakaris's chosen servants. Sure, Sakaris had been defeated by Valkyrie three thousand years ago—but now? The world belonged to his descendants, and Valkyrie bloodline lived in their shadow.
Zaskar caught the look of realization in their eyes and faked a gentle smile.
"Glad you understand. Now, let's count your sins, shall we?" He raised his fingers one by one. "A sealed chamber in your dungeons. Resisting an imperial inspection. Harboring a Nameless. And worst of all—you knew we were coming, and you let her escape."
He feigned shock, mocking them with a grin that showed how much he enjoyed being in control. "Oh no, I could kill you right here and now!"
Eric stepped forward, but the king quickly held him back.
Zaskar strolled a few steps closer, lazily waving a finger in the air. "But that'd be boring, wouldn't it? Killing you before that Nameless. So… I'll be generous. I'll let you live. All I want are two little things."
Two little things. Nothing about that sounded little coming from Zaskar's mouth.
The king and Eric braced themselves in silence, praying it wasn't what they feared.
Zaskar slid a paper across the king's desk.
"First—sign this. Right now. I've decided Arindor will show repentance by moving up your Honoring Rite to today."
The king kept a mask of calm, but Eric's eyes widened in fury.
The Honoring. That cursed ritual. A so-called 'Rite of Pride', where families volunteered their sons to serve the Empire's army.
In reality, it was nothing but forced tribute, demanded every year from the kingdoms to keep them in line.
"You can't be serious," Eric hissed through clenched teeth. "The last Honoring was less than a year ago!"
Zaskar smirked at his outrage, then dropped the second blow like a hammer:
"And second, by law, I sentence Arindor to… Taking."
The words hung heavy in the air.
The Taking? That meant slavery. The girls of Arindor would be rounded up and dragged away.
Cruel, but not out of character for Zaskar. This man was infamous for killing out of boredom—snatching a few girls along the way was nothing to him.
Eric froze for a moment, blinked, then stepped forward.
"You can't—!" he burst out.
But a sword appeared in Zaskar's hand in a flash, pressing against Eric's throat before he could move another inch.
Cut him off with a voice cold enough to freeze bone. "Shut up and look at me. The Stalkers reports are right here—a Nameless. An illegal sealed chamber. The punishment is clear: execution. You should be grateful. Instead of chopping off your heads, I'm only taking a few boys… and a few girls."
Eric trembled with rage, refusing to step back even as the blade drew more blood.
The king finally sat down, picked up a pen, and began signing the royal decree for Honoring.
Zaskar's smile of triumph spread as he sheathed his sword—vanishing it back into nothingness.
Eric stared at his father in disbelief, eyes shaking. "Father! Both Honoring and Taking? The kingdom will fall into chaos!"
Zaskar snatched the signed paper and turned toward the door, smug satisfaction radiating off him.
"Pray to your angels that your precious Nameless doesn't show up in the capital during The Taking," he mocked. "Because if she does… and if she admits she's your daughter… not even obedience will save your neck, little king."
He left the room, leaving behind a silence so heavy it felt suffocating.
Only the ragged, angry breaths of the king and Eric broke it.
Finally, the king unclenched his jaw and spoke. "Call Master."
Eric's head snapped toward him, shocked. "M-Master? You want me to call Master Valdrik now?"
"Eri's already in the capital. We can't reach her ourselves," the king muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "At least with him, she'll live. Probably."
He turned toward the door, already thinking of the council meetings ahead. "It's a risk. But at least we know he'll move fast to reach her."
And with that, he left the chamber.
Eric's gaze dropped to Eri's necklace in his hand.
Slowly, he walked to the library, pulled a random book, and flipped to a random page.
He ran his finger along the edge of the paper until it cut, smearing his blood across the sheet.
Then, placing the necklace on the stain, he closed the book in one motion. The necklace vanished between the pages.
"Handing my sister over to Master… and doing nothing?" Eric muttered, tightening his grip on the book. "Am I really supposed to just stand by and watch?"
A sharp glint flashed in his angry eyes—an idea, reckless but his only choice.
He set the book aside and marched toward the door.
"Forgive me, Father. You can save the kingdom. But I… I'll save my sister."
-
Near the capital square, Noah wandered the crowded market, picking through stalls for supplies.
If they stuck to the main road, the next city was more than a day's walk away—far too much for someone as inexperienced as Eri.
And the Sakaris Empire, Noah's homeland? That was over two months away.
The thought alone weighed on him.
This trip would be hell, especially with the burden of keeping Eri safe, fed, and satisfied enough not to regret following him.
Eri trailed behind him, hidden under a heavy black cloak.
"Why do I have to suffocate under this thing?" she whined, leaning toward him.
Eri'd asked the same thing ten times already, her patience at its limit.
Noah sighed.
"Your clothes are white. Your hair is white. And you don't have a Code on your hand." He recited it like a machine.
Eri scowled. "Oh, great answer! Again!"
"It's the same question every time," he said flatly, inspecting the fruit on a stall like she wasn't even there.
Unable to stand it, Eri tugged the cloak back, stuck out her tongue right in his face, and gave him a childish rebellious look.
Noah's eye twitched.
He yanked the cloak down over her again, muttering in frustration. "Keep it on! Do you want us both killed?"
Tiny angry grumbles came from under the cloak.
Eri had left her gilded cage for freedom—for the world. Not to suffocate beneath a mountain of cloth.
Noah reached for a fruit at a stall—then froze.
A shiver rippled through him. His entire body screamed in warning. All the shadows around him were shaking.
He grabbed Eri without a word and pulled her behind a shop.
She peeked out from under the cloak, wide-eyed, staring at her so-called hero who suddenly looked… afraid.
Before she could ask, the sound of a horn split the air. A horn that every soul in world knew too well.
The Shadow Knights had arrived.
People flocked nervously toward the square, trying to hide their trembling.
When knights gathered here, led by their commander, it never meant anything good.
The knights formed a ring, clearing the way for a tall figure who radiated menace with every slow step—Zaskar.
"Who's that?" she whispered.
"One of the Eight Severans. Commander of the Shadow Knights," Noah said, his eyes locked grimly on the square.
Severan? Shadow Knights? Eri tilted her head in confusion, blinking like an owl.
Just now she was learning the smell of dirt, the feel of rain. And now these strange, terrifying words pressed into her world.
Zaskar reached the center of the square.
His sharp gaze swept the crowd. Then he put on a fake, warm smile, one hand resting over his chest. "A warm greeting to the people of Arindor. Your little kingdom looks cheerful. That's good. And I promise, by the time I finish speaking, your happiness will multiply—because you'll feel adrenaline coursing through your veins like never before."
He spread his arms wide and continued:
"Two announcements. First—out of the Empire's boundless generosity, we've decided, together with your king, to move up your Honoring Rite to today. You should be grateful, right? Imagine—the great honor of letting your sons join the mightiest army in the world. Don't worry about numbers. We'll take however many young men above twenty are fit to serve."
Shock rippled through the crowd. But no one dared speak.
To object meant death—especially here, surrounded by Shadow Knights, with Zaskar himself in command. Their king couldn't protect them. So the people swallowed their terror in silence.
Zaskar smirked at their stillness. "Exactly what I expected. Bow your heads, obey, and live. That's the lesson your king taught you well. Now… let's see your reaction to the second matter."
His grin stretched wider, practically trembling with excitement, like he was about to drop a bomb. "Second—rejoice! From this day forward, your households will bear lighter burdens. Why? Because Taking begins now. Don't worry—no favoritism. We'll take at least one girl from every home, so everyone shares the blessing of a simpler life. So… reactions?"
The first drop of rain splashed onto the cobblestones.
The beginning of a storm.
The mask of calm the people had worn shattered the moment the knights moved.
Families sprinted for their homes. Brothers trying to shield their sisters. Fathers raising makeshift weapons. Mothers clutching their daughters.
Blood quickly joined the rain pooling in the square.
The knights cut through the crowd with ruthless efficiency. Screams pierced the air, lives torn apart in seconds.
This was the freedom of Sakaris's servants.
The right to choose who lived and who died.
And in this filthy, brutal world, it was done without mercy.
Hidden in the shadows, Eri stared with wide, horrified eyes.
Her mind shut down, unable to process the screams, the blood, the cruelty.
The little girl who had once been locked away from the world, finally saw it for the first time.
And she hated it already.
Completely soaked, Eri took a step forward, still looking in shock.
Noah grabbed her hand to pull her back—but the spark of pain shot through both of them again, flinging Noah's hand away.
"Damn it!" He cursed under his breath, grabbed Eri by the collar, and dragged her out of the chaos.
Zaskar's eyes seemed to linger on the spot they'd just left, squinting like he suspected something.
.
.
Noah pushed through the muddy ground, dragging Eri behind him, finally reaching the edge of the forest.
He made sure they put as much distance as possible between themselves and the capital's chaos.
"Leave me…" Eri's muffled voice reached him.
Noah ignored her, running until Eri deliberately grabbed his hand again. Pain and sparks shot through both of them one last time, and Noah finally let go of her.
They collapsed into the muddy ground, drenched, filthy, both gasping for air and trembling.
The first to get up was Noah. He didn't straighten his clothes, didn't brush off the mud—pointless anyway.
He just fixed his sharp gaze on Eri. "Get up. We need to get as far from here as possible."
Eri struggled to her feet on the slick, soft ground, staring at Noah with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"How… how could you just leave them there? Why did you bring me? We should've helped them! I have to go back!" She spun, ready to run toward the capital.
This time, Noah had no patience for her stubbornness.
Unable to touch her hand safely, he grabbed both her sleeves and stopped her.
"And how exactly are you going to help them?" he asked, sharp and direct.
Eri hesitated, looking into his eyes. "I… I don't know. But I'll find a way."
She wanted to ease the weight in her chest, to feel like she could at least do something in that blood-soaked square.
But Noah had a different goal. Not protection. He just had to get Eri to Nerza. Even if it meant crushing her little dreams.
Still holding both of her sleeves, he stepped forward and almost slammed her against a tree.
His gaze was as cold and emotionless as possible, "This isn't the world of your imagination, Eri. In the real world… there's nothing you can do."
Noah's words weren't meant to insult or mock. They were just the harsh, bitter truth of the world laid bare. And all Eri could do was watch—watch as more lives were snatched away, one after another.
After saying that, Noah glanced at Eri's trembling eyes. His expression softened just a bit, but there was no regret—none at all.
He couldn't tell if the wetness on her face was rain… or tears.
Then a voice echoed through the forest.
"N-o-a-h!"
Zaskar's dangerous voice cut through the air, and Noah shoved Eri behind a bush without thinking.
"Forget being a hero. Just hide and run in time."
Once he was sure she was covered, Noah spun around, ready to confront Zaskar and buy Eri time to escape.
It took a moment—but soon Zaskar came, smiling as he approached.