In the forest, far from the horrifying scene unfolding elsewhere, a young man in his twenties with red and white hair stood still, seemingly waiting for someone. Growing tired of his patience, he murmured to himself:
"Strange, Zad is never late. But I've been waiting for hours."
He glanced left and right, hesitant, before finally deciding to head to Zad's cabin to check if everything was alright. It took him only a few minutes to reach it, but what greeted him was nothing short of shocking ;no cabin, just a pile of rubble. Among the debris lay a man's charred body and a metal candelabra, dripping with blood. The full gravity of the situation dawned on him, and all he could manage to say was:
"Shit..."
Without wasting any time, he raced away from the scene. Moments later, he arrived at the gates of a grand building situated in the middle of a bustling town. The building appeared to be the royal castle. Without hesitation, he approached one of the guards stationed at the main gate.
"I need to see the king."
The guard scoffed. "Hah! And I need a second hole. Now get lost!"
"Tell him that a member of the Brotherhood of Elementalists requests an audience."
Inside the throne room:
"Sire, a young man is requesting an audience with Your Majesty."
"And why are you telling me this? Chase him off, like all the others."
"Well, he refuses to leave and claims to be a member of the Brotherhood of Elementalists."
At that very moment, while the king was being briefed, the massive doors of the throne room suddenly burst open, revealing the young man. His first words, direct and urgent, were:
"Forgive my lack of formalities, Your Majesty, but time is of the essence."
Following close behind him, several guards stumbled into the room, stammering their apologies:
"Forgive us, Your Majesty. We tried to stop him, but..."
The king raised his hand swiftly. "It's fine. Leave him."
Turning to the young man, he continued, "I assume you're our esteemed guest. But answer me this... The Brotherhood was disbanded centuries ago, wasn't it?"
"That's not the point."
"You insolent brat, mind your..."
"SILENCE!"
"..."
"Now, what's this about?"
"There was a fire in the forest, and a man died. His name was Zada, also known as Zad."
"Indeed, I was informed of the incident. Such a horrible tragedy. He was a former war hero, and my father allowed him to live on these lands for his many services to the nation. Rest assured; the entire kingdom mourns his loss."
"And I assume that's why you left his body to the scavengers."
"Tsk… Who do you think you're talking to? I am the king, and I could have your head cut off before you could blink..."
"He wasn't alone. There was a boy with him, around twelve years old. The boy is missing. I want to know where he is."
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about. However, my men will conduct an investigation, so you can leave with a clear conscience."
As soon as the king finished speaking, a thought crossed his mind: Why did I start addressing him so formally?
Realizing the conversation was going nowhere, the young man took a deep breath and said:
"Since I arrived here, I've noticed something interesting. There's no tension in your kingdom; the people live peacefully, unlike your neighbors."
"That's because there's nothing of value here. The mineral riches that fuel wars elsewhere are nonexistent in this land. Our resources come mainly from tourism and the taxes paid by the people."
"Ah, I see. That makes sense. As they say, every cloud has a silver lining. It would be quite unfortunate for you if, for example, a gold deposit were discovered, say, west of a certain mountain near the royal capital. And despite your best efforts to keep it hidden from your neighbors, word got out... I can only imagine the catastrophe."
The king's face paled, a look of shock overtaking him, as though he'd been caught red-handed. The young man shot him a dark, menacing glare that sent chills down the king's spine. His next words were biting:
"Where is he?!"
________________________________________
Night had fallen, ushering in the reign of owls perched atop the trees in the forest, alongside other nocturnal creatures. Together, like cogs in a grand machine, they brought a humble vibrancy to the gray-green woods, a small defense against the silence and darkness of the night. But deep within the same forest, hidden from all eyes, stood an abandoned, decrepit castle, enveloped by those very shadows. From the depths of this eerie castle's basement, an unsettling sound echoed:
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
As his maniacal laughter subsided, the man marveled aloud:
"Incredible! Fantastic! Magnificent, even! You're still alive, after all that! Honestly, I'm impressed. What extraordinary vitality! I have no doubt now. You'll make the perfect subject for the serum!"
"..."
"Hm, passed out, have you? I suppose I was a bit careless... But no matter, let me just inform the count of the incredible specimen I've found. I'll come back to patch you up after that. Until then, don't die on me! That would be such a waste."
With those parting words, the butler opened the door to the room and left. Outside the castle, he released a raven carrying a letter, watching as it flew into the dark sky before turning on his heels, returning to the castle without another word. On his way back, he spotted a group of soldiers led by an individual with bicolored hair. Intent on causing mayhem, he prepared to intercept them, determined to prevent them from meddling in his affairs. However, for some inexplicable reason, he hesitated and retreated into the forest instead.
The delegation, led by the man with red and white hair, swiftly made their way to the castle's basement, arriving at the cell where Nate was held captive. As he pushed open the door, which groaned horribly as it swung ajar, the scene inside left him breathless, his face paling at the sight before him.
It was a massacre, a bloodbath. Some of the men accompanying him fled the room in horror, while others emptied their stomachs right where they stood. What kind of creature could be responsible for such unspeakable brutality? The stench in the damp room was overwhelming, a nauseating blend of blood and entrails. The walls were painted entirely red, as if an amateur painter had gone mad. The floor was littered with tiny pieces of flesh, floating in a thick, viscous pool of blood.
In the center of this ghastly scene, illuminated by the faint glow of a single candle in the far corner, stood a young blond-haired boy, chained and shackled in an upright position. His body bore no signs of life. Perhaps it was due to the deep gash that started at his right collarbone and tore down to his ribs. Or maybe it was the gaping wound in his abdomen, spilling out his innards. There was no need to mention the gruesome mutilation of his left leg, which was almost split vertically, or his mangled fingers, reduced to nothing but shreds, not to speak of the other horrific injuries that marred his body.
Faced with this unspeakable horror, the young man lowered his head, utterly defeated. He had arrived too late. Another tragedy had unfolded before him. He gazed upon the situation with despair, finally coming to terms with the grim reality. After a few moments of silence, he gathered the strength to leave that cursed room. With a heavy heart, he turned his back on the gruesome scene.
But just as he did, a faint, trembling groan reached his ears from behind. Stunned by what he thought he had heard, he spun around, disbelief in his eyes.
The boy was still alive!