The noble king, who had once exuded endless confidence and authority as befitting his status and wealth, was now a shadow of his former self. Trapped within his own kingdom, now slowly being taken over by monsters, he sought refuge in food and alcohol, the stress wearing away at his mind.
Each day came word about another town or city falling to Tempest, that cursed blight Tempest. What meager military force that could be assembled had been utterly obliterated the very moment they had to engage the unstoppable monstrous hordes. To make matters worse, half the Free Guild members and at least a fifth of the citizenry had left the areas still controlled by the crown and fled westward, hoping to find sanctuary in distant nations, further reducing what little military forces he could raise.
The blasted council of the west had abandoned Falmuth to its grim fate, while the useless Holy Ruberios Empire - the one he had spent so much time in currying favor through archbishop Reyhiem - had only watched as Falmuth's forces and nobility were ground to dust. Even their foremost trading partner, the Armed Nation of Dwargon, had turned their backs and openly sided with the monsters, severing eastern passage for travelers and dealing a crippling blow to the kingdom's economy as well as its capacity to sustain armies.
This dire situation was further darkened when the boldest Western merchants, once eager to line their pockets with the silver of strife, began turning a blind eye to his realm's situation. These merchants, who typically had no issues braving the perils of war-torn lands to reap bountiful profits, now deemed Falmuth too dangerous, too far gone. Their trading, usually a lifeline in times of need, became ghosts on the horizon, leaving only the echo of their departure.
Morale, once a thing of pride for the Falmuthian people, crumbled like ancient ruins. It sank into abyssal depths, outstripping the king's mounting debts that spiraled like a maelstrom. With each passing day, the weight of unpaid dues and the cost of survival grew heavier, casting long shadows over his depleted mind. It was a relentless nightmare, one that clutched at his soul with the cold fingers of despair - a nightmare with no dawn in sight.
King Edmaris presided over the far end of the grand dining table, shoveling handfuls of cheese and meat into his mouth while gulping it all down with copious amounts of fine wine. Any possible etiquette and all known table manners were a distant thought, lost amidst the burps that erupted like minor tempests. It was an unruly soundtrack to his useless advisors' endless bickering.
The suggestion to open talks with the Tempest Hegemony was the hot topic again, which in his opinion was nothing more than a recurring farce that danced on the tongues of the ignorant. Did they already forget that the monsters had ignored all previous attempts at diplomacy? Despite their naive hopes and wishful thinking, Edmaris knew better. When the dust of the invasion settled, the gallows awaited him and the rest of the ruling class; he held no illusion that there was anything but a public execution at the end of the line.
After all, the nobles of each fallen city were dealt with in the same manner. They were dispatched without ceremony, their claims to land and title extinguished with their last breath. It was a fate he knew all too well, a shadow that hung over them, as inevitable as the dusk that follows day.
As he was about to doze off, someone loudly barged into the room, much to his displeasure. A glance revealed it to be the guild master of the Free Guild, Franz. "Your Majesty," he said in a hurry, "the adventurer headquarters has issued an all-out Free Guild member evacuation from the capital."
"So… the end is near," The King muttered, his words punctuated by an involuntary burp, as bits of his feast escaped his mouth.
Undaunted by Edmaris' unsightly state, Franz placed a heavy satchel on the table. "I took the liberty of forging guild cards for you and most of the remaining nobles, but you must act fast and leave most of your belongings behind. The monsters won't buy your story if you bring the royal treasury with you," he warned, his eyes scanning the room. "I have no doubt the ruse will be up in a few days and before long, entire monster armies will be searching for you."
At this, a nobleman, driven by instinct, tore the pack open and an assortment of guild cards poured out. A sudden urgency took hold of everyone present, including the king, and they rushed to find their cards. Many lunged to claim their new identities, dropping silverware as they reached for the most important slips of paper in their entire lifetimes.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Edmaris felt a spark of hope flicker in his heart. This was his way out of certain death, a death at the hands of traitors and monsters. There wasn't any point worrying about legacy or his name or titles. He was already ensured to go down in history as the king who doomed his nation in his greed for more wealth. Above all, the prospect of a new identity offered him and his son a much-needed fresh start, an opportunity to rebuild their lives away from the shadow of their past.
With some of his most trusted advisors working with him, he began setting their escape plan into motion. A relatively simple cart with a few secret compartments was prepared to conceal the wealth they would use to initiate their new lives. He shaved his face and donned glasses to change his appearance even more. Edmaris also discarded his royal garments for commoner's clothes, his son following suit. There wasn't enough time to alter their body figures significantly, but they would have to make do with what changes they could make. After that, it was only a matter of assimilating themselves and scattering.
It was decided to hide in a large group of adventurers, hired for their protection, and to minimize the chances of being caught. They planned to depart under the cover of night, seeking the anonymity of the nearby Free Guild inn. Once there, they would blend in with the other patrons, biding their time and awaiting the guild master's signal to proceed with their escape.
"Don't screw this up you two," Shogo hissed, trying to get the attention of his two friends. They were once again getting too comfortable with each other, which wasn't the best idea while they waited for the King of Falmuth to pass through the unlit street.
"Relax. He's still far off." Kirara replied, her voice echoing like she was speaking through metal, her sharpened nails finding Kyoya's side in a teasing jab.
Shogo couldn't help but snap back, "Relax!? Lord Demiurge warned us that he would deprive us of all sensations for years if we messed up!"
Kyoya scoffed at his antics. "We've got this. Each of us could've easily dealt with them even before our upgrades. And this time, there's no one left to guard them, including that old fart. Just make sure to keep the king alive, and don't get carried away," he stated, fondling Kirara over her leather outfit as he did so.
They were now much more than mere mortal humans. Lord Demiurge had remade them into ascended beings that couldn't differentiate between pain and pleasure. Thanks to their new physiology and equipment, all sense of suffering had been taken away, keeping them in a constant state of bliss. And that was only the tip of the iceberg. Their glorious master had given them skills that turned pain into strength, and they could heal from almost anything with their high regeneration rate.
They were living a dream that humans had chased since the advent of their sapience - eternal happiness. And they would never dare to trade it away.
Kyoya's only remaining fear was the ever-present possibility of failure, but even that was something he was grateful for. They had been through so much, with the demon having broken down their every aspect to remake them into something superior, to serve as best as they could. Countless hours were spent in unimaginable suffering and watching each other suffer. But in the end, their love only grew stronger, united in delight and torment.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll keep some alive for later," Shogo grumbled, annoyed at his friend's preachy, peachy attitude.
At least they didn't have to wait too long for the prey to arrive. A carriage sneakily moving through the night could seen coming their way, it would practically bump into them. The royalty who had summoned them into this world was about to be within reach, and they would not escape their grasp.
The trio of ambushers tensed, the only sound marking the carriage's approach being the soft clatter of hooves against cobblestone. The moment it passed, they sprang from hiding, three shadows converging on their unsuspecting target.
The driver, startled by the sudden assault, could only gasp as the figures closed in on him, a cry cut short by the swift flick of a blade. The horses, sensing the sudden release of the reins and the imminent danger, immediately reared up in alarm. Panicked whinnies pierced the night, as the carriage lurched to a violent stop. Inside, the occupants were thrown into disarray by the abrupt interruption of their journey.
Shogo wasted no time, cutting down the miserly guards with such ferocity that Kirara and Kyoya scarcely had a chance to have any fun. It didn't help that barely anyone was capable of offering resistance. Not all was lost, though. The King, who was desperately trying to protect his son from the attackers, was still there, pathetically huddling in a corner.
From the darkness, creatures of nightmares emerged, their forms twisted and grotesque. They descended upon his guards with a barbarity and efficiency that left no hope for survival. King Edmaris, no, just Edmaris watched in horror, recognizing the assailants as the once-human otherworlders, now puppets of a monstrous will. The mage who had controlled them was absent, presumably fallen, his power over them stolen. A cynical part of him got the feeling that Razen, too, had been subjugated by the leaders of Tempest.
Edmaris knew he had just one card left to play in the eerie calm that followed the carnage. He had always thought that he was a man of strategy and power, but now, as the reality of his dire predicament sank in, he understood that all his past maneuvers were but a prelude to this moment, gambles upon gambles.
While the air was filled with the iron tang of blood and the muted cries of the dying, he came to his decision. He could not undo what had been wrought this night nor bring back those who had fallen in his name. But there, in the protective circle of his arms, was the one thing that mattered more than his own life - his son. With a trembling breath, he pushed the boy behind him, his body a shield against the encroaching darkness,
"W-wait! Take everything I have, but please let us go," he implored, his voice a mix of command and request, the voice of a man who had nothing left but hope. It was an appeal made to monsters, to beings who knew no mercy, yet it was all he had.
Laughter, cruel and cold, answered him. Shogo stepped forward from the shadows, his eyes alight with malice. "The fat prick thinks he can bribe us! Oh Lord Demiurge will have fun with this one!" He said, to the despair of the shivering king.
Kirara stepped in front of him. "Leave this to me."
"Hey, I want to make him suffer myself!" Shogo protested.
"And I can do something you can't. Watch!" She winked at her companions as she walked closer to the pair. Her eyes locked on the King's as she whispered a command that chilled the air. "Strangle your son."
In the suffocating grip of an unseen force, Edmaris found himself trapped in his body. His own hands, as if possessed by a will beyond his own, betrayed him. They reached out, encircling the tender neck of his son with a firmness that horrified him. The boy's eyes, wide with shock and confusion, met his father's in a silent plea for mercy, a plea that tore at Edmaris' heart even as his treacherous limbs refused to relent.
The prince's voice, once clear and bright within the castle halls, was now a choked and desperate gasp. "Father, stop," he begged, the words barely escaping his lips as he struggled in futility against the crushing embrace. His small hands, unaccustomed to combat, clawed against the iron grip, seeking in vain to pry away the deadly hold. He only managed to scratch at his would-be killer's arms, his father's arms.
Within the depths of his mind, Edmaris was screaming, a torrent of insanity and disbelief flooding his thoughts. 'Why am I doing this? No! Please make it stop! God! Anyone! Stop these monsters! Help me! Help me! Please! Help me!' But the silent cries echoed only within the confines of his own mind, unheard by those around him, and lost in the void.
Shogo's amusement was clear as he watched the scene unfold. "Fuck, you ARE right, this is much more fun than beating the shit out of him!"
In only a short few minutes his son ceased his struggles, with Edmaris' arms still crushing his tiny neck.
"Finish the job, kill him! Break his neck!" Kirara barked another order.
Edmaris may not have looked like someone who could do the dirty job himself, but he was once a capable warrior, and the body he couldn't control moved to snap his son's spine with a grim efficiency he had thought lost.
Only when it was clear he had ended the boy's life, did the cruel enchantment relinquish its hold. He stared down at his trembling hands. Was this the punishment for his hubris? All his life he thought himself safe from any repercussions for his greed, and why wouldn't he? It was an unspoken agreement between human nations, that even if one conquered another, the nobility would be mostly spared and left alone to live the rest of their life in comfort. He held control over the richest kingdom in the world and held wealth unfathomable to others.
The contents of his stomach threatened to spill out as he stared at the boy's lifeless body, feeling sick to his very core. His son was his main heir, his most treasured person, and he had killed him.
"You- you- you monster!" He cried out into the night, unsure whether he was accusing himself or the actual attackers.
"Feels good, doesn't it? Oh, it's just the beginning, we have such sights to show you!" Kirara giggled in sheer delight.
They could hear their portal home already opening for them. All that remained was to remove any evidence of their assault. With a swift, cruel motion, Kirara seized the king by his neck and hurled him through the swirling gateway. Shogo and Kyoya followed her lead and dragged the corpses of the fallen, doing the same to the abandoned cart soon after.
Among the guards, a few still clung to life, their breaths ragged whispers in the night. Should Lord Demiurge decree it, these survivors would serve as the evening spectacle for themselves and the other enhanced beings. The thought brought anticipation to the trio, a perverse excitement for the twisted games that awaited.
Editing by aidan_lo and Zprotu.
Proofreading by Lighflan, Antilene, Malguis, clagan, Athrav, aidan_lo, Cakeeight, Cay, NuggetLover, and Zprotu.
AN: Thank you for reading the story, and if you have caught up to the latest chapter, you can check out my other work or join my discord server (https://discord.gg/WmGKVU3XG2) where additional chapters are available or if you are interested in becoming a beta reader (gives access to chapters months ahead of regular readers).