Shattered Oath Silent Kings

Ian still remembers the memories of years ago.

Spring is such a pleasant season, especially when spent with the person you love. Two lovebirds are sitting together under the starry night sky, talking and enjoying each other's company. Ian Winterbell and his fiancée, Triane Velathor, are hugging each other, seeking comfort. Both are laughing and smiling warmly at each other.

A man with green hair and gray eyes joins them, snickering and adding to their conversation. Franz Illya, the second-born child of Illya Marquisette, possesses animal-like instincts that grant him exceptional agility and precision as an assassin. His talent shines brightly within their party.

"We are in the middle of a war, and the only thing you both care about is making babies?" A blunt voice interrupts from behind them. It's Allen Winterbell, the chosen Hero. His soft golden hair glistens in the moonlight, and his piercing blue eyes are sharp as he speaks. Sweat drips from his body after intense training. The couple blushes furiously, caught off guard by his comment.

"You're too direct," another voice chimes in. "You could at least ask if they're planning to have descendants." A silver-haired man wearing glasses steps forward, his expression one of mild disapproval. Callisto Xena, the youngest son of the prime minister, is the team's strategist. His sharp mind excels in creating tactics and strategies.

"Our next target should be the Knight of Vengeance. Despite being only a knight, he managed to capture Marquis Claze in just thirty minutes. This proves his strength. He commands an army of one hundred and twenty-two goblins, eighty-two orcs, fifty-five dark elves, thirty vampires, and seven high-ranking demons as his retainers."

"Two of the dark elves are high-ranking, twelve of the vampires are A-level, and three of them are purebloods," Callisto continues, his tone serious and calculating.

"Our strategy will focus on eliminating all enemies within the castle. We'll use the spell 'Heavenly Flare' combined with 'Holy Blessing.' 'Holy Blessing' will stun the enemies for approximately fifteen minutes, allowing 'Heavenly Flare' to wipe them out. Finally, we'll rely on 'Monarch Aura' to confront the knight. As long as he's not the Demon King, His Highness should be able to restrain the demons."

Callisto assigns roles. "Franz and Heion, you'll fight as the vanguard to buy time for the priest and magician to recover their stamina."

Ian nods but hesitates. He looks at Allen. "Is it really necessary to kill them all? Some might surrender."

Allen's expression hardens. "Demons are evil beings that tarnish this continent. All of them must be eradicated." His words stun Ian, who recalls moments when demons pleaded for their lives, showing they had families too. Killing isn't something to take pride in, but as bearers of justice, they are deemed right.

"It's God's will," Katherine, the second-ranked priest with green hair and blue eyes, whispers as she clasps her hands in prayer. Ian struggles to understand the necessity of such evil acts for the greater good.

Triane's gentle touch pulls Ian from his thoughts. She looks at him with worry, her presence grounding him. The smell of burning firewood lingers in the air as Ian steals his heart. He hugs the woman he loves, vowing to fight for everything he holds dear.

Triane smiles softly, her voice a comforting whisper. "We'll fight by your side, no matter what, my love."

So why? Why? Why?!

Why is there a staff embedded in his chest? Why does that cruel, evil smile stretch across her face—the face of the woman he loves dearly? The man who promised to walk through hell with him and the people who swore to stand by his side... why are they the ones betraying him?

Ian's vision blurs as he collapses against a wall, blood pouring from his chest. The mocking smile of the Knight of Vengeance looms over him. Ian's empty eyes widen in disbelief. The knight laments, "I didn't expect to gain company in the afterlife. It's still wrong—the child needs to survive." With his final breath, Ian whispers to the stunned man before him, "Are you shocked? You don't have to be."

He remembers the day his brother betrayed him. So why? Why today? Why does the Demon King stare at him like that? Why is Allen Winterbell—the beloved younger brother—lying in his arms, bleeding profusely? The spears embedded in Allen's back tell a horrifying story. Ian's heart breaks.

"You... bastard..." Ian chokes out, his voice trembling.

"The day we betrayed you, I hoped you'd run away and hate us," Allen whispers weakly, blood staining his lips. "I made sure it wasn't fatal, brother... I hoped you'd give up."

*****

A grand room draped in black curtains exudes an air of mourning. A man with blonde hair and blue eyes sits on a throne, his gaze empty and sorrowful. He looks down at the kneeling man before him.

"My brother is dead?" he asks, his voice hollow.

The guardian of the Holy Sword nods solemnly.

Triane Velathor clings to the man's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Allen Winterbell, the second-born of the Imperial family, was the rightful crown prince of the Archea Empire. He was well aware of the danger Ian faced as a weak, frail prince with a precious monarch aura. Allen had hoped to protect his brother by making him appear unworthy of the throne.

It was all meant to be an act—a staged betrayal to save Ian from the crushing responsibilities of royalty. But everything went wrong. The demons got to Ian first, and Allen's desperate plan to shield his brother ended in tragedy.

The day they stabbed Ian Winterbell, hoping to free him, marked the beginning of the Archea Empire's descent into chaos.

*****

The memories lingered like a cruel echo, fading into the brutal reality before Ian Winterbell's eyes. Blood spilled freely from Allen's back, soaking the golden fabric of his tunic and pooling onto the scorched ground. The Holy Sword, now dull and lifeless, lay discarded beside them.

Ian knelt on the battlefield, cradling his younger brother in his arms. His hands trembled as they pressed against Allen's wounds, futilely trying to stem the flow of crimson. The betrayal, the truth of the schemes, and the years of manipulation now bore down on Ian like a crushing weight.

"Why?" Ian choked, his voice barely audible over the chaos that raged around them. His vision blurred with tears as he looked down at Allen's face, pale and drenched in sweat.

Allen coughed, his lips curling into a weak smile even as blood trickled down his chin. "You... finally figured it out, didn't you?" he whispered, his voice hoarse and strained.

Ian shook his head, his chest tightening. "You lied to me. You all lied to me... and for what? To protect me? To keep me weak?"

Allen's trembling hand reached up, brushing against Ian's cheek. "It wasn't a lie, Ian. You're strong... stronger than any of us ever gave you credit for." He paused, his breath hitching painfully. "I thought... if you hated us if you thought we betrayed you... you'd stop trying to carry the world on your shoulders. I was wrong."

Ian's tears fell freely now, streaking down his dirt-stained face. "You didn't have to protect me like this! Allen, you didn't have to die for me!"

The Demon King stood nearby, watching the scene unfold with an unreadable expression. His betrayal burned like fire in Ian's chest, but right now, the weight of his brother's dying form overshadowed even that.

Allen's hand fell back to his side, his strength fading fast. "It's... too late now," he murmured, his gaze softening as he looked up at Ian. "I couldn't let him take you. Not after everything. You're still... my brother."

Ian's hands clenched, his heart shattering. "Allen, don't leave me. Please, don't go!"

But Allen's eyes began to glaze over, his breaths coming slower and weaker. "Ian... live. No matter what happens, you... you have to live."

A final tear slid down Allen's cheek as his hand fell limp, his body going still.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. The sounds of battle faded into a dull roar as Ian stared down at his brother, the weight of his loss suffocating.

The Demon King's voice cut through the silence, low and mocking. "How touching. Such brotherly love. It's a shame it couldn't save him."

Ian's head snapped up, his tear-streaked face twisting into a mask of fury and grief. His heart, once filled with confusion and regret, now burned with a single purpose. He gently laid Allen's body down, brushing a hand over his brother's eyes to close them.

"You," Ian hissed, rising to his feet, his aura flaring with raw power. "You'll pay for this."

The Demon King smirked. "Bold words for someone who's been nothing but a pawn."

With a roar that shook the heavens, Ian charged forward, his grief and rage fueling his every step. Allen's sacrifice would not be in vain.