As King Yogan and Zuka stepped through the portal, they emerged into the royal palace of Solis Imperium—a sanctuary of breathtaking opulence and immense power. It was a place that existed not just to impress, but to dominate, the sheer scale of its wealth and grandeur enough to humble even the proudest monarchs.
The grand hall was a marvel of craftsmanship. Its walls were inlaid with precious gems in vibrant blues, greens, and golds, catching the light from a series of chandeliers that hung like crystalline constellations overhead. These fixtures refracted light into delicate rainbows that danced across the polished marble floor, creating an ethereal, almost magical glow. Every detail, from the carved golden archways to the subtle engravings in the stone, seemed designed to overwhelm the senses.
Armored guards flanked the hall, their stances rigid and disciplined. Their polished helmets reflected the light in sharp bursts, while the long broadswords at their sides added a silent but undeniable menace. They moved not an inch, their cold precision mirroring the practiced wealth of the palace itself. Yet the guards were not the most striking presence in the room.
King Yogan's eyes immediately fell upon the two women who stood on either side of King Herbert's throne. Their beauty was otherworldly, but it was their aura that set them apart. It was heavy, suffocating, and ancient—more than mortal. Their faces were serene masks, but their presence radiated a power that felt like it could crush armies. Yogan couldn't help but wonder how a man like Herbert—who seemed so plain by comparison—had come to command such formidable beings.
King Herbert himself sat on his throne, his form dwarfed by the grandeur around him. In stark contrast to his surroundings, he looked weary, almost fragile. His graying hair framed a face lined with worry, and his shoulders sagged under the weight of unseen burdens. Yet, there was a quiet resolve in his eyes, a determination that hinted at why he had called for the Dragonoids' help.
"Lord Yogan," Herbert began as he rose slowly, his voice steady but strained. "Thank you for answering my summons. Please, come with me to a more private chamber. There is much to discuss, and little time to waste."
Yogan inclined his head slightly, motioning for his men to remain behind. His gaze swept the room once more, lingering on the enigmatic women before following Herbert's lead. Zuka fell in step beside his father, his expression unreadable but his eyes keenly observant.
At a command from Herbert, Licth stepped forward. With a simple wave of his hand, the human mage opened another portal—a shimmering oval of silver light that pulsed with a quiet energy. It was not as dramatic as the portal they had arrived through, but its precision and ease spoke volumes of Licth's control.
They stepped through into a smaller chamber that, while less grand, still exuded wealth and importance. The walls were paneled with dark wood, intricately carved with depictions of human triumphs and battles long past. A large, round table dominated the room, its surface polished to a mirror-like sheen and covered with maps, scrolls, and other documents hastily arranged. The chairs around it were no less grand, their crimson velvet cushions framed by silver and gold accents.
Licth unfurled a map across the table and began to speak, his voice calm yet filled with an underlying tension. "Our kingdom is surrounded by the Forest of Kain," he said, tracing the map with his finger. "Recently, a tomb appeared deep within the forest. Its aura is unlike anything we have encountered before—dark, oppressive, and… alive. Our soldiers who entered did not return, save for one who uttered only these words before succumbing to his wounds: 'The legends are true.'"
He paused, letting the gravity of his words settle. "Our forces are stretched thin due to our ongoing war with Grenhold, and we cannot afford to lose more men. Yet, we cannot ignore this threat. If left unchecked, it may consume us all."
King Yogan listened silently, his fingers steepled as he absorbed the information. After a moment, he leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp. "You request our aid, and I am willing to provide it. But my time is precious. What do you offer in return?"
Herbert hesitated, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "This threat transcends any earthly conflict, Lord Yogan. Should this menace awaken, there may be no world left to reward you with. But if it is within my power, I will grant you whatever you desire—land, wealth, alliances. Whatever it takes to ensure our survival."
Yogan studied Herbert for a long moment before giving a slight nod. "Very well. When the moon is at its zenith, I will investigate this tomb myself and uncover the truth of what lies within."
Herbert's relief was palpable. "Thank you, Lord Yogan," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Licth, prepare chambers for our guests. Ensure they have everything they need."
As Herbert turned to leave, Yogan declined any special treatment with a curt shake of his head. However, Zuka leaned back in his chair, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "Actually," he said, his tone light and teasing, "I do have one request. I'd like the company of a beautiful human woman tonight."
Yogan shot his son a glance that was equal parts disapproval and amusement. "You have an uncanny sense of timing, Zuka," he muttered.
Zuka shrugged, unrepentant. "If the world is ending, I might as well enjoy what it has to offer before it's gone
King Herbert let out a soft chuckle, the tension in the room lightening for a brief moment. "Your spirit is… refreshing, young one. I'll ensure your request is met."
Licth, with a calm nod, conjured two portals, each leading to their respective quarters. He gestured with a respectful bow, motioning for Yogan to enter the first. Yogan nodded, casting one last look at Herbert, before stepping through.
As Zuka approached his portal, Licth gave him a slight, knowing nod. "Your chamber awaits, my lord."
As Zuka stepped through the portal, he found himself in a suite that matched the splendor of the grand hall, though with a warmth and intimacy the palace's main chambers lacked. The high ceilings were painted in deep blues with gold-leaf stars scattered across, and amber lanterns cast a gentle light, creating soft, flickering shadows on walls draped in royal blue velvet embroidered with silver and gold. Shelves of artifacts—glistening jewels, polished statuettes, and ancient scrolls—lined the room, reflecting the glow in hues of sapphire, ruby, and emerald.
At the room's center, an opulent bed lay draped in midnight-blue silks and furs, a fur throw at its foot as soft as clouds. A low table nearby bore decanters of rich wines and trays of vibrant fruits.
A gentle knock at the door announced the arrival of Elara, the companion he had requested. She was radiant, her skin warm as sunlit amber, with soft waves of dark hair and eyes that held flecks of green. Her gown of burgundy velvet complemented her serene beauty, and she introduced herself with a soft, graceful confidence.
"Elara," he said, gesturing for her to join him. "A pleasure. Tonight, let's not think of tomorrow."
She smiled, her gaze holding a warmth that softened the evening's intensity. "All the more reason to enjoy tonight, my lord."
They shared a glass of wine, exchanging lighthearted stories that turned into an unspoken connection. Slowly, the conversation drifted into silence, the world beyond the walls slipping away as they moved closer, drawn by a shared moment of escape from the night's looming threats.
As dawn cast a soft glow through the room, Zuka lay beside her, finding peace in her presence. Holding her close, he drifted into a light sleep, comforted by the warmth of a rare, stolen moment of calm.
Zuka stirred from sleep at the sound of a knock on his chamber door. His mind, still heavy with the haze of rest, urged him to ignore it, but the knock persisted. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, calling out, "Come in." His voice was low and groggy.
The door opened to reveal Licth, standing in the dim light of the chamber. His expression was calm, though there was a weight in his eyes—a mixture of duty and unspoken sorrow. He bowed respectfully before stepping inside.
"I trust your evening was… pleasant, my lord," Licth said, his tone even, yet tinged with an unplaceable melancholy. "I came to ensure you don't linger too long in rest. The moon will reach its peak in an hour or two."
Zuka stretched, careful not to disturb the woman sleeping peacefully beside him. He reached for a nearby robe, tying it loosely around his frame as he turned to regard Licth fully.
"You're quite the enigma, Licth," Zuka began, his voice carrying a faint note of admiration. "You've shown strength, magic beyond incantations, and an aura that feels… different. Almost otherworldly. If this mission succeeds, I may very well ask for you to serve among my royal guards. A man of your caliber deserves a place of honor."
Licth bowed slightly, but his response was humble and tinged with quiet resignation. "I appreciate the sentiment, my lord. But I am undeserving of such praise. I am unworthy."
Zuka frowned, stepping closer, his golden eyes narrowing as he studied Licth. "Unworthy?" he repeated, incredulous. "For someone of your strength, skill, and presence, why carry such a name? It's not a title—it's an insult."
Licth hesitated, the weight of his past etched into his features. "It is not a name I chose, but one given to me… and earned, in some ways," he said, his voice low. "I am the last of the Graymark family—one of the five great human houses. From the time I was a child, I lived to see others smile, even at the cost of my own peace. But humanity is a cruel master. Kindness is seen as weakness. Generosity becomes an obligation. I was no longer asked to give; I was required to. And when I failed to meet their ever-growing demands, even my family turned against me. I became, in their eyes, unworthy."
Zuka felt a sharp pang of indignation on Licth's behalf. "They called you unworthy… for having a soul? For being the best of them?"
Licth gave a bitter smile. "The best? No, my lord. I was simply convenient. When I finally left, I wandered the lands aimlessly. It was during those years I met someone—a kindred spirit. We became the 'Un Brothers.'" His voice grew quieter, more deliberate. "Licth the Unworthy… and Klaus the Untamed. Your brother."
The name hit Zuka like a thunderclap. His breath caught as disbelief washed over him. "Klaus? You… fought beside my brother?"
Licth nodded solemnly. "We were comrades, bound not by blood but by understanding. Klaus saw me for what I was—not as a tool, but as a person. He was the first to call me brother." He paused, his expression growing darker. "But then… he was called back to your people, to represent the Dragonoids. And I… remained."
Zuka stepped closer, his shock giving way to a need for answers. "And what happened then?" he pressed.
Licth sighed, his hand beginning to glow softly with a pale blue light. "Words cannot do it justice. Allow me to show you."
He reached out, his glowing hand pressing gently against Zuka's temple. The air around them seemed to hum as the memory unfolded.
Zuka found himself immersed in Licth's recollection. He stood in the middle of a burning estate, the sky painted in an eerie blend of crimson and blue as flames consumed everything. The acrid smell of smoke and blood filled his senses, and the ground was littered with bodies—humans and monsters alike.
Felborn and vampires swarmed the grounds, their inhuman forms moving with terrifying grace. In the center of the chaos stood Licth and Klaus, their backs to one another as they fought off the horde.
Licth wielded his magic with precision, opening portals to evade strikes and launch devastating counterattacks. Klaus, in contrast, was a force of unbridled fury. His every movement was raw power, each swing of his weapon felling multiple foes at once. Together, they were unstoppable—a perfect blend of strategy and brute strength.
Yet, the voices of the survivors cut through the memory like knives. Humans—those they had fought to protect—screamed accusations at Licth. "This is your fault! You brought this upon us! If you'd been here sooner, this wouldn't have happened!"
The hatred in their words was venomous, each syllable sharper than the weapons they bore.
Zuka watched as Klaus's patience shattered. In one swift motion, he grabbed Licth's father—a man leading the tirade—and lifted him effortlessly into the air. His voice was cold, devoid of any empathy. "You shall speak no further, insolent filth," Klaus growled, driving a spear through the man's chest.
Even in his final moments, the elder Graymark spat defiance. "The Paradise delays my visit… I still breathe. Hear me, bastard son—I am still alive."
Klaus, unmoved, twisted the spear, silencing him forever. He turned to Licth, his voice low and steady. "I chose my path, and you chose the way of the hero. They found you amusing for a time. But humans… they love to watch their heroes fail. To see them fall. To watch them die trying. In spite of all you've done for them, eventually, they will hate you."
The words hung heavy in the air as the battle resumed. Licth, though visibly shaken, fought on with unyielding resolve, standing shoulder to shoulder with Klaus until the last enemy fell.
The memory faded, and Zuka stumbled back, gasping as he returned to the present. His mind raced with the weight of what he had seen. "They called you unworthy even after that?" he asked, his voice thick with disbelief.
Licth offered a sad smile. "The name stuck, my lord. Like a scar."
Zuka clenched his fists, his emotions churning. "I never knew Klaus was so… ruthless," he muttered. "Each day, it feels more like I'm the only noble son of my father." He paused, his golden eyes locking with Licth's. "But my brother saw something in you. Something I see now." He stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Licth's shoulder. "You are no longer unworthy. You will fight by my side, and you will be respected in my ranks."
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Licth smiled—a true, genuine smile. "Thank you, my lord," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.
Zuka nodded, though his mind still reeled from all he had learned. "Let me get dressed," he said, his voice steadying. "We have much to do."