Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

"The curse here is no ordinary curse."

Yulia's gaze settled on the castle looming ahead, her expression somber.

"The Shinra Empire once sent a Saint-level knight commander to purge it. But in the end, even he fell victim to the curse and became part of it."

Her words hung heavy in the air, a grim reminder of the castle's dark history.

Rhodes frowned. If even the mighty Sanctuary experts couldn't resist, what hope did lesser mages or adventurers have? Demigods? There are barely a handful in the Shinra Empire.

In the Northern Territories, even the Holy Pope—first among equals—hadn't stepped outside the Glorious Cathedral for centuries. As for the empire's demigods, they were bound to protect the capital and wouldn't risk leaving their posts.

Besides, the curse didn't spread beyond the castle walls. To the empire, it was a localized menace, not worth the staggering price of removal.

---

"How did the curse come to be?" Rhodes asked, his curiosity piqued.

Yulia's lips twitched, her eyes distant.

"An annoying chatterbox once told me the tale..." She took a breath before continuing.

"The castle belonged to Duke Dracula. Long ago, he accidentally killed his wife and son in a magical accident. Devastated, he sought a way to resurrect them but fell prey to a demon's temptation."

Her voice dropped lower.

"To fulfill the demon's demands, he sacrificed every soul in the castle—hundreds of thousands of civilians and nobles alike. In the end, he not only failed to revive his family but doomed them. Their souls, along with those of his victims, were twisted into evil spirits, trapped in eternal torment within these walls."

Rhodes let out a low whistle.

"Now that's tragic. The guy sacrificed everything for his family—his humanity, his kingdom, his own soul—only to fail spectacularly."

Yulia folded her arms, her disdain evident.

"I don't get it. A duke should've known better than to trust a demon. If he'd gone to the Church of Death, maybe they could've helped him reunite with his loved ones in the afterlife. But no, he chose the devil. And this..."—she gestured toward the cursed castle—"is the result."

Rhodes snorted.

"Trusting a demon? That's like making a deal with a fox to guard your chicken coop. They'll promise you paradise, but all you get is misery—and they'll devour you when they're done."

His gaze shifted back to the castle, a flicker of intrigue in his eyes.

"But if Dracula summoned a demon with sacrifices this massive, we're talking about something big. A demigod-level demon, at least. Anything less wouldn't make sense."

---

Yulia shot him a look.

"Are you really planning to go in there alone?"

Rhodes grinned, brushing past her concern.

"You and Anne stay outside. If things go south, you'll be our last line of defense."

Without waiting for a response, he strode toward the castle gates.

---

The castle was a monument to desolation. Dust blanketed every surface, and time had reduced its grandeur to decay.

Crunch.

Rhodes glanced down. He'd stepped on a brittle bone. Beside it lay tattered clothing and a weathered skull, the remains of a long-dead victim.

As he ventured deeper, an eerie wind howled through the ruins.

Clang! Clang!

The sound of metal scraping against stone echoed ominously. Armor pieces rattled and stirred. Slowly, a skeleton clad in rusted gear rose to its feet, hollow eye sockets burning with malice.

One by one, more undead joined the fray. Tens of thousands of cursed spirits filled the streets, each weaponized by the hatred that bound them.

Rhodes sighed.

"Dead people should stay in their coffins."

---

Boom!

A wave of radiant flames swept the streets, reducing the horde to ashes. But as the embers settled, the spirits began to reform, their incorporeal forms tethered by the curse.

Great. Eternal respawns. Wonderful.

Realizing brute force wasn't the answer, Rhodes activated the power of his demonic bloodline. Black wings sprouted from his back as his aura darkened, exuding a power that sent shockwaves through the cursed city.

He zipped through the streets like black lightning, shattering any ghost foolish enough to block his path.

---

The castle's heart—the grand palace—soon came into view. Its massive doors were sealed tight, suffused with a sinister energy that reeked of demonic corruption.

As Rhodes approached, the gates creaked open, and a swarm of bats burst forth, blackening the sky.

From the darkness emerged a headless knight clad in obsidian armor, mounted on a skeletal steed. The aura of the Sanctuary radiated from his body—a tragic remnant of the once-proud knight commander.

"Even the mighty fall here," Rhodes murmured.

The headless knight roared, spurring his horse into a thunderous charge. His lance gleamed with the power to pierce through worlds.

---

Rhodes didn't flinch.

The lance struck him square in the chest—only to shatter upon impact. With a single finger, Rhodes unleashed a burst of solar and demonic energy.

The knight disintegrated into ash.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," Rhodes muttered, brushing his cloak. "The dead shouldn't wander. Rest in peace."

---

The palace was a labyrinth of shadows, the air thick with foreboding. Three black-and-red coffins lined the corridor ahead.

Bang!

The lids burst open, revealing their occupants:

A seductive woman in a blood-red gown, her crimson eyes glinting with hunger.

A sickly nobleman with golden curls and a predatory grin.

An elderly mage clutching a staff, his face deceptively kind but twisted with malice.

"The Duchess, the Duke's son, and the court mage," Rhodes mused. "Guess the family reunion's here."

The trio radiated Sanctuary-level power, their forms corrupted by demonic influence.

---

"Three ants instead of one," Rhodes scoffed.

In a blink, he appeared between them. Dark-gold arms formed from his energy surged outward, their size grotesque and overwhelming.

Boom!

The force obliterated the trio in an instant, leaving nothing but blood mist.

"Strength makes numbers irrelevant," Rhodes muttered, his tone dismissive.

---

Hovering in midair, Rhodes set his sights on the inner sanctum.

At the heart of the palace, the true source of the curse awaited.