The order was given.
Immediately, Vaelis was dragged from the royal court by four heavily armed guards. Their grips were firm, rough, and unforgiving—but their hands trembled all the same.
They all knew where he was being taken.
The Oblivion Chasm.
No warrior of Velthryn, no matter how battle-hardened or decorated, dared approach it. Legends whispered of generals who had stood at its edge, men who had survived wars and beasts alike, only to return empty-eyed, their bodies intact but their souls torn away.
Some never returned at all.
And now, after centuries of sealing, the Chasm was being reopened.
Not for war, Or necessity.
But for a girl's fancy.
"This is madness," one of the guards murmured under his breath as they dragged Vaelis across the black stone corridors. "Reopening the Chasm for this… just because the princess was bored…"
His voice shook despite himself.
Vaelis heard him.
He said nothing.
His chains clinked softly with every step. His bare feet scraped against the cold floor, leaving faint streaks of blood behind him. He did not resist. He did not plead. His head remained bowed, long dark hair shielding his eyes.
Nyxara stood at the steps of the throne room, watching them leave.
She yawned.
Satisfied. Bored.
As though the moment had already lost its entertainment.
Behind her, an elderly general stepped forward, his voice strained with restraint.
"My lord," he said carefully, bowing. "Reopening the Oblivion Chasm is forbidden. Even our ancestors—"
"Father."
Nyxara's voice sliced through the hall.
The general froze.
"Yes, my dear?" King Rhaekor replied instantly.
Nyxara smiled sweetly, as though nothing had happened. "I heard Prince Elion is arriving today."
The king's expression softened immediately. "Yes. Before dusk."
Her eyes lit up. "Please, Father. Make him stay after your boring meetings. I want us to spend time together."
The king chuckled softly. "Anything for you."
She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him.
"What would I do without you?" she said playfully.
The generals watched in silence as she skipped out of the court, her laughter echoing down the stone halls.
None of them spoke.
They were accustomed to Nyxara's cruelty.
And to the king's obedience to it.
KINGDOM OF VIREMONT: SAME DAY
"Prince Elion of Viremont!"
The royal announcer's voice rang through the court.
Elion stepped forward with calm confidence, his head held high. Tall and composed, he carried himself with a grace earned through discipline rather than pride. His armor bore the marks of battle, yet it was polished clean, reflecting the torchlight of the hall.
He was known throughout the realms for his restraint.
A prince who fought only when necessary.
A commander who spared the innocent.
A man whispered to be too kind for a throne built on blood.
"My lord," Elion said, bowing deeply.
King Lucaryn rose from his throne, pride unmistakable in his eyes. "Welcome home, my son."
He clasped Elion's shoulders. "You went to war and returned victorious. Not a single troop lost."
"Strategy saves lives," Elion replied calmly.
"You did well," the king said. "Stifeon told me of your command."
The old royal advisor nodded. "Your leadership prevented unnecessary slaughter, Your Highness."
Lucaryn returned to his throne, his expression darkening.
"There is another matter."
Elion straightened.
"I am sending you to Velthryn," the king said.
Elion frowned slightly. "Velthryn?"
"Yes. We have unfinished matters with King Rhaekor. But that is not the true reason."
The king paused.
"They have captured the Devil Lord."
Elion's eyes widened. "The reincarnation?"
"Yes," Stifeon confirmed. "My spies verified it."
Lucaryn leaned forward.
"I want you to go to Velthryn," the king said quietly, "and kill him."
The words settled heavily.
"What?" Elion asked.
"I want you to kill the Devil's reincarnation."
KINGDOM OF VELTHRYN — THE OBLIVION CHASM
The guards stopped several meters from the edge.
None of them dared step closer.
The seal had already been broken.
The guards who had done so lay dead behind them. Their bodies were untouched, yet their eyes were empty, their expressions frozen in terror. Whatever had taken them had not wounded flesh.
It had devoured what lay beneath.
A thick rope was tied around Vaelis' waist.
"Move," one guard ordered, though his voice shook.
Vaelis walked.
Slowly.
The wind howled from the abyss, cold and whispering. The Chasm stretched endlessly, swallowing light, swallowing sound. It did not look like a pit.
It looked like a mouth.
The guard swallowed hard and cut the rope.
Vaelis fell.
The Chasm closed behind him.
Darkness consumed everything.
No screams.
No pain.
Just silence.
Then—
A voice an ancient voice spoke up
"You are late."
Vaelis felt no ground. No air. His body floated, suspended between nothingness and something worse.
"Just kill me already," Vaelis said. His voice was hoarse, exhausted. "Don't tease me."
It was the first time he had ever spoken.
The darkness shifted.
"It is not time."
"Why?" Vaelis asked.
The Chasm laughed—low, wicked, echoing through the void.
"Because you are not broken yet."
The voice pressed closer, wrapping around him like a living thing.
"You have not suffered enough," it continued. "You still feel. You still ache. You still hope, even when you think you do not."
Vaelis clenched his fists.
"When your emotions are stripped away," the Chasm whispered, "when you lose the ability to feel fear, pain, love, and mercy—then you may die."
Silence followed. Heavy.
The presence enveloped him completely.
"Welcome home," it murmured.
"Welcome, my lord."