Before the Banquet – Cour 3, Part 1
The cold steel of Leornars' dagger slid through Liam's palm with a wet, tearing sound. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light as he twisted the blade, deliberately ripping the wound open with slow, merciless precision.
> "I gave up my sanity. Lost my childhood. Nine years of being dissected, poisoned, burned, and put back together like some twisted experiment… and yet—"
He laughed. The sound was jagged, more like a broken thing trying to imitate mirth.
"—I still never let go of my hatred for humanity."
The blade dug deeper. Liam's body trembled violently, his breath hitching with every movement.
> "I even held myself back from destroying this kingdom. I helped them. Helped them. And do you know how they thanked me? I took out the princess. Removed a few nobles. Bought every trading company in this city and the next. Framed six merchants, ground them into servitude, and paid them in crumbs. And then… you dared touch my lake."
His tone sharpened into something ice-cold, unnatural.
> "I don't care about the demi-humans you killed. But that lake… you've just signed away your soul for that lake. Don't blame me."
Liam's eyes widened, pupils shaking in primal fear.
"I-I'll tell you where the others are! Just promise you won't kill me!"
Leornars' crimson gaze didn't waver as he slowly pulled the knife out, every centimeter scraping agony into Liam's nerves.
"I will."
"They… they're at the west harbour, abandoned warehouse number five-sixty-four!" Liam blurted.
Leornars dropped him like refuse and walked past, his aura thickening with each step. A black, mist-like steam curled from his mouth as his presence pressed on the air like a storm.
> "Bellian. Kill him."
Liam's head jerked up just in time to see Bellian's longsword descend.
> "You said you'd spare me!"
"I don't negotiate with filth," Leornars replied coldly.
The blade split Liam's skull.
Turning to Stacian, Leornars' voice was clipped.
"I'm not telling you what to do. Do what's necessary before the banquet."
And with that, his body blurred, vanishing into the city at Mach 8.
---
Inside the Mind
As he ran, a whisper crawled up from the depths.
> "Look at what you've become."
"Is this what you are now? A vengeful beast?"
Another voice, hoarse and screaming:
> "WHY ME?! WHY THE HELL AM I STILL ALIVE?!"
Leornars halted mid-step, clutching his temples, then pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Shut up…" he muttered through clenched teeth.
The screams multiplied, bleeding into each other. His nose began to drip crimson.
"I don't have time for this." He cast a healing spell on himself, but a fresh wave of pain tore through him, ripping a primal roar from his throat.
---
Two Days Ago – The Black Acers
The Black Acers had been scouting the city when Princess Alisha's carriage stormed away from her manor, hooves pounding against cobblestones. Their leader, a broad-shouldered man with a jagged scar across his cheek, narrowed his eyes. Moments later, a royal messenger sped toward the castle.
Something wasn't right.
By the time they regrouped, word reached them: the princess was dead.
> "What the hell?" Lloyd, the vice-captain, muttered. "We killed the princess? When?"
"She must've been running from someone," Lloyd guessed, smirking.
"Whoever it was, they were good," the leader said, lighting a cigar.
"Good enough to take down the kingdom's best martial artist? That's no ordinary fighter."
"I'd like to meet 'em in a fight," Lloyd said, puffing his chest.
The leader's eyes hardened.
"No. Whoever it is… they're mine."
As he inhaled the cigar smoke, his mind drifted to his beginning.
Eight years old, and already drenched in blood — his first kill over a petty insult. From there, it only spiraled: abducting children, selling them into slavery, burning their parents alive in front of them. The smell of roasted flesh still clung to his memory like perfume.
He'd been everything — mercenary, assassin, slaver. Now a bounty hunter. And still, killing was the only thing that made him feel alive.
---
Three Weeks Ago – Leornars
Leornars had entered the Adventurers' Guild only to keep his license from being revoked. That's when he saw it — an A-rank bounty for the Black Acers' leader, dead or alive. Half a million gold coins.
A faint, humorless smile tugged at his lips. Perfect.
---
Present – The Voices
Now, sprinting toward the harbour, Leornars could barely hear the world over the cacophony inside his skull.
> "You've slaughtered thousands. Doesn't it bother you?"
"I can't believe what you've become."
"Disgusting."
"I SAID SHUT UP!" His voice cracked as he drove his dagger deep into his own foot, the burst of pain forcing the voices into a muffled whisper.
A figure ahead caught his eye — a Black Acer clutching a staff crowned with a black stone.
Mana nullifier, Leornars assessed instantly.
He leapt high, knife flashing, and buried the blade in the man's neck. The body hit the ground with a dull thud. Picking up the staff, Leornars ripped the crystal free and crushed it in his palm.
From the corner of his eye, the harbour came into view. A red vein pulsed at his temple, his gaze sharpening into something feral.
> "I'll kill them all."