The once-great city of Valdonis was now nothing more than a shattered graveyard of broken stone and twisted metal, the remnants of its towers crumbling under the weight of ancient battles. The air was thick with the scent of blood, dirt, and the stench of death. The ground was uneven, littered with the fallen bodies of men and beasts, their blood soaking into the earth like dark ink. Above, the sky was a roiling mass of storm clouds, crackling with latent energy as if the heavens themselves were watching this grim spectacle unfold.
In the center of this chaotic battlefield stood Valen Don Valeryon, the eldest son of House Valeryon. His armor, once polished to a gleam, was now stained with blood—some of it his own, most of it belonging to his enemies. His cursed sword, Bloodbane, hummed in his hand, its blade a deep, sinister red that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. The sword, ancient and malevolent, seemed almost alive, thirsty for more blood. With every foe it cut down, Valen felt its power surge through him, strengthening him, pushing him beyond the limits of mortal men.
Across from him, the six-headed hydra towered, its monstrous body coiled and ready to strike. Each of its heads represented a different element—fire, water, earth, air, lightning, and ice—and their eyes glowed with malice and intelligence. The hydra's heads snapped at the air, hissing and roaring, their voices a terrifying cacophony that reverberated across the battlefield.
Valen grinned, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of confidence and madness. "Come on, then," he called, his voice cutting through the din of battle. "my swordis thirstyfor your blood? Just make sure you don't bore me too much!"
The hydra hissed in response, its eyes narrowing in fury at the taunt. Each of its heads began to move in unison, a deadly coordination forming between them. Valen's cocky smile faded for a moment as he sensed the shift in the beast's strategy. The heads were no longer attacking individually—they were working together, their combined movements faster, more precise.
Hydra's POV
The six heads of the hydra shared a single thought: this human was dangerous. Stronger than the others. Faster than anticipated. They had underestimated him. Each head agreed silently—it was time to stop playing. Together, the heads began to move in tandem, weaving through the air with deadly grace. Fire, water, lightning, earth, ice, and air coiled around their throats, ready to strike as one. He would die.
The human had no idea what was coming.
Valens POV
Valen's muscles tensed as he felt the hydra's power coalesce. He could sense it—the coordinated attack building. "You think you can take me down with fancy tricks?" he spat, flipping Bloodbane in his hand. "I've got tricks of my own."
Without hesitation, Valen closed his eyes and whispered a chant in a language so ancient that even the gods themselves might have forgotten it. His body stiffened, his aura shifting, growing more menacing as his family's ancestral magic surged through his veins. His eyes snapped open, glowing a brilliant blue, and his entire stance shifted—more fluid, more dangerous.
"Shu," he muttered, invoking the blessing of his house's god. His sword dropped to his side, and for a brief moment, the hydra hesitated, its six heads blinking in confusion. Valen vanished.
In a blink, one head fell to the ground, cleanly severed. Blood gushed from the stump, and before the hydra could react, another head followed. Two heads gone in the span of a heartbeat.
Warrior's POV
The entire battlefield froze, warriors and monsters alike turning their eyes to the spectacle. The ground seemed to tremble beneath them as Valen danced between the remaining heads of the hydra, his sword cutting through the air with deadly precision.
The soldiers could hardly breathe, watching in awe as their commander moved like a shadow, his every strike perfectly timed, his movements almost inhuman. No one spoke, too entranced by the deadly ballet unfolding before them.
Cedric's POV (Vampire)
From the ridge overlooking the battle, Cedric Nightshade, vampire and reinforcement commander from the Kingdom of Navria, cursed under his breath. His fangs glinted in the low light, frustration etched on his face as he watched the fight. "Damn it! We can't just sit here anymore!" His crimson eyes flashed with impatience. "You five, get down there! Sabrina, Jack—you're with me. I'll take one head, you two handle the other. Let Valen deal with the rest. If we don't move now, we're just going to be spectators to our own defeat."
With a snarl, Cedric leaped into the fray, his body a blur of speed as he descended the hill, fangs bared and claws extended. Sabrina and Jack followed, their weapons gleaming as they prepared to join the fight.
Valen's POV
Valen spun, narrowly dodging a blast of fire from one of the remaining heads. His breath came in sharp bursts, but his grin never faltered. The hydra was weakening—its movements less fluid, more desperate. But Valen could feel Bloodbane's hunger gnawing at him. It wanted more blood, demanded it. The sword vibrated in his hand, urging him to end it.
"Come on," Valen taunted, wiping blood from his face. "Is that the best you've got? You're losing heads faster than a chicken in a butcher's shop!"
The hydra hissed in fury, all four remaining heads lashing out at once. Valen's eyes narrowed, his body moving almost on instinct. He sidestepped one head, leaped over another, and slashed down with Bloodbane, severing a third.
Warrior's POV
With the hydra weakened and missing half its heads, the warriors on the battlefield began to rally. They surged forward, cutting down the remaining mana beasts with renewed vigor. Victory was close—they could feel it.
With the joint attack of Cedric and his two companion another two head fell leaving only one head who in the act of desperation attempts to blow his mana core only for blood bane to pierces his head.
Cedric pov
He stared at valen as he made his way into his tent monster hr said fighting an s ranked monster in the same rank alone
Warriors pov
But just as the healing of the wounded and taking the valuable parts of the monsters and cheers of triumph began to rise, a shadow passed overhead. The warriors looked up, their voices dying in their throats as they saw a winged mana horse descending from the sky. On its back lay a figure—broken, bloodied, and barely conscious.
Valen's POV
Valen paused on his way to the tent , his breath catching in his throat as his gaze locked onto the figure on the winged horse. His heart stopped. He recognized the bloodline, the mana signature—faint but unmistakable. His mind raced, piecing together the impossible truth.
Could it be…?
As the horse landed and the figure slid from its back, Valen's eyes widened. The young man lying before him was unrecognizable, his body battered and bruised, his white hair matted with blood. But Valen knew. He *knew* who this was.
"Asher?" Valen whispered, his voice barely audible. His pulse quickened, and his grip on Bloodbane tightened as his world spun. "But… you died. Fifteen years ago… you died."
The hair was different—white where it had once been black—but Valen couldn't mistake it. He had thought him dead. No he said to himself those bastard from Navria are still here I can't behave suspicion acting as if I know him can put him in danger and he might not he asher .
"Who is this?" Valen demanded, turning sharply to the healer at his side. His voice was tight, controlled, but his eyes betrayed the storm of emotions within.
The healer quickly explained, detailing how the injured man had been found, carried in on the back of the mysterious winged horse. "We've checked for the horse," the healer added, "but it has disappeared."
Valen stared at the unconscious figure, his thoughts a whirlwind. If this truly is Asher…then where have you been all this years and what happened to you