The early morning light filtered softly through the high windows of the royal chamber, casting a faint golden hue across the room. The faint rustle of the breeze played against the curtains, carrying with it the cool touch of dawn. Serena sat up slowly, the luxurious sheets sliding from her bare shoulders, pooling around her waist as she stretched, her arms rising gracefully above her head.
She let out a quiet chuckle, her crimson eyes glinting with faint amusement as the breeze brushed against her skin. The sensation was soothing, almost playful, and it made her acutely aware of the chilled air against her bare back.
"I suppose I should thank the wind for the morning greeting," she murmured to herself, her voice soft and still laced with the remnants of sleep.
As she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her eyes fell on Lucien, still asleep beside her. His features were relaxed, the usual sharpness of his expression softened in slumber. The sheets had fallen partially off him as well, and she reached out instinctively, pulling the blanket up to cover him. Her fingers brushed lightly against his shoulder as she tucked it in around him.
"Sleep well, dear consort," she whispered, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she turned toward the mirror on the far wall.
As she passed, her gaze flicked to her reflection. Her skin, pale and flawless, gleamed faintly in the soft light. She paused for a moment, tilting her head as she regarded herself, her long, dark hair cascading down her back like silk. The faintest curiosity crept into her mind, and she spoke aloud.
"Great Sage, tell me—can I fall ill? I don't think I've ever considered it before."
The familiar glow of Great Sage shimmered in the corner of her vision as it answered in its calm, measured tone.
"No, my Lady. As the Dark Messiah, your body is immune to all natural and supernatural diseases. Your role ensures both resilience and invulnerability to such afflictions."
Serena smirked at the response, her fingers lightly trailing down her bare arm as she nodded to herself. "Of course. I should have known better than to even ask. Sickness doesn't suit someone like me."
Her gaze lingered on her reflection for a moment longer before she turned away, her steps light and unhurried as she made her way toward the wardrobe. She allowed herself one last stretch, the cool air brushing against her skin again as she chuckled softly.
"Immune to sickness, immune to fear… it's almost too perfect, isn't it?" she murmured to herself, her voice carrying a playful note of irony as she reached for her robe and slipped it over her shoulders.
The morning had only just begun, but Serena felt a rare sense of calm.
The morning light filtered softly through the windows of the grand corridor, its warmth casting gentle hues across the polished stone floors. Serena, now dressed in her usual elegant yet practical attire, adjusted the cuff of her sleeve as she made her way toward the war council chamber. The faint echo of her footsteps filled the quiet hall until a voice, familiar and slightly breathless, broke through the silence.
"My Lady! My Lady! Serena!"
She paused mid-step, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly as she turned her head toward the sound, feigning mild surprise. Lian, her loyal and recently promoted Grand Commandant, was hurrying toward her. Her uniform was slightly disheveled, and the scroll in her hand flapped wildly with her rushed movements.
"Ah, Lian," Serena said smoothly, turning fully to face her. Her lips curved into a faint smirk as she clasped her hands behind her back. "What a pleasant surprise. You seem rather eager this morning. What brings you to my halls?"
Lian skidded to a stop, saluting quickly before clutching the scroll tightly to her chest. "My Lady, forgive my interruption, but I bring news—urgent news—from the front lines."
Serena arched a brow, her expression shifting to one of calculated curiosity. "Oh? News, you say? Well, don't keep me in suspense, Grand Commandant. Report."
Lian nodded sharply, unrolling the scroll as she began her report. "My Lady, your 1st Dark Marine Forces have achieved total victory in Voltheris. They have successfully conquered the towns of Ravenmoore, Silvercrag, Brightshade, and Ashwynd, as well as the capital city of Ebonridge."
Serena's eyes widened briefly, genuine surprise flickering across her face before her smirk returned, sharper this time. "Ebonridge, you say? The capital itself? Now, that is impressive. Go on, Lian. I want every detail."
Lian's excitement grew as she delved into the specifics, her words coming fast and fervent. "The campaign began with a coordinated strike on Ravenmoore. The Marines took the town in under three hours, utilizing night operations and their superior training. The element of surprise was key—they infiltrated the town's defenses silently before overwhelming the garrison."
"Efficient," Serena remarked, nodding slightly. "And the others?"
"Silvercrag followed shortly after, though it required a more aggressive approach. The terrain was rugged, and the enemy forces were entrenched, but our Marines used their mobility and discipline to encircle them. Brightshade and Ashwynd fell within days, thanks to the combined efforts of the second and third companies. The enemy was unprepared for the precision of our forces, and morale among their troops collapsed."
Serena listened intently, her expression shifting between intrigue and pride as Lian continued. "The campaign culminated in the assault on Ebonridge. The 1st Marine Forces, executed a flawless siege. They cut off supply lines, infiltrated the outer defenses, and forced the gates within two days. The Voltherian forces attempted a last stand at the royal palace, but they were no match for our forces. The capital fell with no casualties on our side in two and half months."
Serena's smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with approval. "And the royal family? What of them?"
Lian hesitated for a moment before answering, her voice firm. "Captured, my Lady. The king and queen of Voltheris, along with several members of their court, are currently being transported here under guard. They will arrive within the week. Additionally, half of the Marine Forces are escorting them, along with numerous prisoners of war."
Serena chuckled softly, her tone laced with satisfaction. "The king and queen themselves. How delightful. And the prisoners? How many are we speaking of?"
"Roughly four hundred, my Lady," Lian replied. "They include soldiers, officers, and a few high-ranking nobles who were in Ebonridge at the time of its fall."
Serena tapped her chin thoughtfully, her crimson eyes narrowing as she considered the implications. "A clean sweep, and with minimal losses. I must say, Lian, this exceeds even my expectations. My 1st Marines have proven themselves as conquerors worthy of their title."
Lian straightened, her chest swelling with pride at her queen's praise. "They fought with everything they had, my Lady. Your training, your strategy—it's what carried them to victory. They knew they carried your will, and they did not falter."
"Nor should they," Serena said, her voice sharp but laced with pride. "This is the beginning, Lian. The first of many victories. Voltheris thought themselves untouchable, and now their capital belongs to me. Let this be a lesson to those who would underestimate Celestafell."
Lian saluted, her expression resolute. "Your will, my Lady."
Serena nodded, turning slightly as her gaze drifted toward the corridor leading to the war council chamber. "See that preparations are made for the arrival of our guests. And inform the Marines that they have my highest praise. They've done well."
"Yes, my Lady," Lian said, bowing deeply before turning to carry out her orders.
As the sound of Lian's retreating footsteps faded, Serena allowed herself a rare moment of quiet satisfaction. Her smirk softened into something more genuine as she murmured to herself, "Ebonridge belongs to me now. And soon, the rest of the world will follow."
The church was a striking contrast to the rest of Celestafell. While the castle exuded power and command, the church dedicated to Goddess Celestia radiated serenity and divine warmth. The vaulted ceilings soared high, painted with celestial scenes of radiant figures and golden light. Candles flickered along the pews, their soft glow illuminating the intricate carvings of angels and holy symbols etched into the stone walls. Serena, dressed in a simpler dark cloak than her usual attire, stepped through the grand double doors, her boots clicking softly against the polished marble floor.
She approached the altar, her crimson eyes scanning the serene scene before her. The statue of Celestia stood tall, her face serene, her hands outstretched as though inviting all who entered to unburden their souls. Serena hesitated briefly, a rare flicker of vulnerability crossing her features before she knelt gracefully on the cushion before the altar.
Folding her hands, she bowed her head. "Goddess Celestia, I come before you not as The Vengeful One, not as a queen, but as myself. I seek your wisdom. If you are willing to grant it… hear me."
For a moment, silence reigned, the soft crackle of the candles the only sound in the vast chamber. Then, a faint warmth enveloped the room, and Serena lifted her head slightly as a soft, melodious voice echoed in her mind.
"Serena. My Dark Messiah. I am here."
Serena's crimson eyes widened slightly, her breath catching at the unmistakable presence of the Goddess. She straightened but remained on her knees, her tone reverent yet steady. "Goddess Celestia… thank you for answering my call. It has been some time since I last spoke with you."
"Time has not dulled my awareness of you, child. You have done well in your new life, have you not? Tell me—how do you find it?"
Serena hesitated, her hands tightening slightly before she allowed herself a small smile. "It has been… enjoyable, in ways I did not expect. There is power in being able to shape the lives of so many, to protect and conquer, to lead and command. But it is not without its weight. Every decision carries a price, and every victory demands sacrifice. Still, I would not trade it for anything."
The Goddess's voice was calm, tinged with an almost motherly warmth. "You have embraced this role far better than I could have hoped. Yet, there is something on your mind. Speak freely, Serena."
Serena's smile faded slightly as she straightened, her crimson gaze meeting the serene visage of the statue. "I do have a question, one that has lingered since I began to understand the full scope of what it means to be the Dark Messiah. If I continue down this path, if I fully embrace what you have set before me… what will happen to the woman I was? To Serena Bowlington?"
The warmth in the room deepened, and the Goddess's tone became more solemn. "The Dark Messiah is not merely a title, my child. It is a transformation. To fully realize your role, you will shed the remnants of Serena Bowlington. The woman you were will no longer exist as she once did. However, her memories, her emotions, and her experiences will remain within you. They will serve as a foundation for the boundless knowledge and power the Dark Messiah wields. But know this—your old self will become a thread in the greater tapestry of your being, woven into something far greater than any mortal could fathom."
Serena's brows furrowed as she considered the Goddess's words. The thought of losing who she once was, even in the name of her new life, unsettled her in a way she hadn't anticipated. "So, Serena Bowlington would cease to be, yet she would live on as part of me? I would remember, but I would no longer be her. Is that correct?"
"Yes, child. The memories will remain, as will the wisdom gained from your past life. But you will evolve, becoming something beyond mortality, beyond identity. You will be eternal. The question is whether you are prepared to make that choice."
Serena was silent for a long moment, her fingers brushing against the polished surface of the altar. Finally, she looked up at the statue, her crimson eyes calm but thoughtful. "I see. Thank you for your honesty, Goddess. I will… think about it. This is not a decision I can make lightly."
"Nor should you, Serena. The path of the Dark Messiah is not an easy one, but it is one that only you can walk. When the time comes, your heart will guide you to the right choice. Until then, I will watch over you."
A faint glow enveloped the statue as the presence of the Goddess began to fade. Serena bowed her head deeply, her voice steady as she whispered, "Thank you, Goddess Celestia. For everything."
The warmth dissipated, leaving the church silent once more. Serena rose slowly, her crimson eyes lingering on the statue as she adjusted her cloak. The Goddess's words weighed heavily on her mind, but there was a quiet determination in her posture as she turned and left the church, stepping into the cool morning air.
The streets of Celestafell were alive with anticipation as news spread like wildfire: the first half of the 1st Dark Marine Forces was returning from their triumphant conquest of Voltheris. Crowds gathered along the main thoroughfare, their cheers and applause echoing off the towering stone walls. The city had transformed into a scene of celebration, with banners bearing the emblem of the Marines fluttering from every corner and flowers strewn across the cobblestones.
At the heart of the garrison, a grand stage had been hastily erected, adorned with dark banners trimmed in silver and crimson. At its center stood The Vengeful One, resplendent in her regal attire, her long cloak billowing gently in the breeze. Her crimson eyes gleamed with pride as the distant sound of marching boots reached her ears.
The Marines entered the garrison with the precision and discipline that had become their hallmark. Their black-and-silver armor bore the marks of battle—scuffs, scratches, and the occasional dent—but each Marine held their head high, their steps confident. The sight of them stirred a roar of approval from the gathered crowd, the sound swelling like thunder as they recognized their heroes.
As the troops filed into formation before her, Serena raised her hand, and the noise subsided instantly. The air was electric with anticipation as she stepped forward, her presence commanding absolute attention.
"Welcome home, my beloved Marines!" she began, her voice ringing out clear and strong. "You have done what many thought impossible. You have stormed the gates of Voltheris, toppled its capital, and brought glory to Celestafell. You have shown the world what it means to carry the will of your queen!"
The Marines saluted as one, their fists striking their chests in perfect unison. Serena's lips curved into a warm smile as she continued, her voice softening slightly but losing none of its strength.
"I was not there to see your triumph with my own eyes, but know this—I was with you in spirit, every step of the way. When you marched into battle, I was there. When you faced the enemy, I was there. And when you emerged victorious, I was there, making sure that each and every one of you would return home safely to your loved ones."
The crowd erupted into cheers once more, and Serena raised her hand again to quiet them. Her crimson gaze swept across the Marines, her expression filled with genuine affection.
"You are more than soldiers. You are the heart of this kingdom, the pride of Celestafell, and a testament to what we can achieve when we stand united. I love each and every one of you—not as a queen loves her subjects, but as a leader loves her family. And I swear to you, as long as I remain your queen, none shall ever know the fear of death. Your duty is absolute, yes, but your lives are sacred to me."
The Marines exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from awe to unshakable resolve. Serena's voice rose again, filled with fiery conviction. "You have proven yourselves conquerors, but our work is far from done. The world will remember this day, this victory, as the first of many! Together, we will carve out a legacy so great, so unshakable, that it will echo through the ages! So stand tall, my Marines! Hold your heads high! For you are the embodiment of Celestafell's might!"
"Hail to the queen! Hail to the Marines!" someone shouted from the crowd, and the chant was quickly picked up, swelling in volume until the entire square echoed with their cries.
Serena stepped down from the stage, moving toward the Marines with a rare softness in her demeanor. She clasped the hand of the first Marine she reached, a grizzled sergeant who had clearly seen his fair share of combat, and nodded solemnly. "Welcome home, Sergeant. You've made me proud. All of you have."
The Marines began to cheer, their disciplined lines breaking slightly as the queen moved among them, exchanging words of gratitude and encouragement. The city erupted into celebration, the echoes of laughter and cheers carrying on well into the night.
For that moment, Celestafell stood united in joy, its queen and her victorious forces basking in the glory of their shared triumph.
The dim torchlight flickered against the cold stone walls of the interrogation chamber deep within Celestafell's dungeons. The air was thick with tension, the faint scent of blood and sweat clinging to the damp atmosphere. King Edric and Queen Elira of Voltheris, once adorned in silks and jewels, now sat bound to heavy iron chairs, their regal attire replaced with tattered, mud-stained garments. Despite their disheveled appearances, their eyes still burned with defiance.
Lian stood before them, her fists clenched at her sides as her gaze flicked between the two monarchs. A few other guards, armed and armored, flanked her, their expressions dark with frustration. The table before them held an array of tools—implements meant for intimidation, perhaps even for torture.
"We've been at this for hours," Lian muttered, her voice low and sharp. "You can end this, you know. Just tell us what we want to hear. Names of your allies. Their numbers. Their plans. It's that simple."
Edric sneered, his lips curling in disdain. "Do you think we'll betray our people so easily? You're deluded if you believe we'll bend to your whims."
Elira's voice was calm but laced with venom. "Your queen may have taken Voltheris, but she'll never have our loyalty. We'd sooner die."
Lian's patience snapped. She slammed her hand on the table, rattling the tools as her eyes blazed. "You'll wish for death if you keep this up! You think we won't break you? We've crushed armies—what's two defiant rulers compared to that?"
One of the guards stepped forward, his hand brushing against a sharp blade on the table. "Permission to begin, Grand Commandant? We've wasted enough time."
Lian hesitated, her eyes darting toward the tools. She wanted answers, needed them, to ensure Celestafell's victory was absolute. Her hand hovered near the blade as she glanced back at the bound monarchs. Their defiance fueled her anger, her desire to end their arrogance.
But before she could give the order, a familiar, commanding voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Enough."
The room froze as The Vengeful One stepped into the chamber. Her presence was immediate, filling the space with an oppressive weight that made every guard snap to attention. The torchlight cast long shadows over her figure, her crimson eyes glinting like embers as they swept across the scene.
"My Lady," Lian stammered, stepping back and saluting. "We were—"
"Torture?" Serena interrupted, her tone calm but carrying an undercurrent of steel. She strode forward, her dark cloak trailing behind her, and stopped in front of Lian, her gaze piercing. "I gave no such order. Have we not shed enough blood already? Do you think breaking their bodies will break their will?"
Lian hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled for words. "I… they refuse to cooperate, my Lady. We needed answers."
Serena's gaze flicked to the bound monarchs, her lips curling into a faint smirk. "And answers you shall have. But not like this. Leave. All of you. Now."
The guards exchanged uneasy glances before reluctantly saluting and filing out of the chamber. Lian lingered for a moment, her frustration evident, but she, too, bowed her head and exited, leaving Serena alone with Edric and Elira.
For a moment, silence reigned. The monarchs exchanged wary glances, their defiance wavering as Serena turned toward them. She stepped closer, her crimson eyes locking onto theirs, her expression unreadable.
Then, with deliberate slowness, she crouched before them, her smile widening into something both predatory and chilling. "You see, my dear king and queen, my soldiers may wield swords and fire, but I wield something far more effective: time. And time is something I have in abundance."
Edric tried to keep his composure, but his voice faltered as he spat, "You think we fear you? You're nothing but a—"
"Hush," Serena whispered, raising a finger. The room seemed to darken, the torches flickering wildly as her presence grew heavier, suffocating. "Fear is a powerful thing, Edric. It doesn't come from blades or threats. It comes from the unknown. From wondering what will happen next. And trust me… you'll wonder."
Her gaze flicked toward the ceiling, her smirk deepening as she softly chuckled to herself. "Celestia will be pleased to know I've made my choice."
Edric and Elira's defiance finally cracked, their faces paling as Serena stood, her full height towering over them. The room grew colder, and her grin widened, a wicked, knowing glint in her crimson eyes.
"Now, let us begin."