Chapter 14 – The Oath Beneath the Ashes
The evening sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the village square.
Its light stretched across the dirt road, painting the stone houses in hues of crimson and gold.
The laughter of children had long since died down.
Tonight, the air was heavy—not with festivity, but with tension.
At the center of the square, Ashton stood unmoving. His silver hair caught the glow of the setting sun, shimmering faintly like strands of moonlight.
His crimson eyes, calm and steady, regarded the armed strangers before him without the slightest tremor.
The leader of the intruders clenched his jaw. He had expected resistance, maybe even panic.
But this man—no, this youth—did not so much as blink. That stillness was suffocating.
Why doesn't he react? Why doesn't he flinch? The leader's thoughts spiraled.
Is this arrogance… or something far worse?
But then another thought intruded, unbidden.
He's beautiful. Too beautiful. Even more than… He bit his tongue, horrified at himself. No.
I must not compare him to the goddess of beauty. I must focus. Capture him.
Deliver him to Goddess Hela. That is all.
Yet the more he stared, the heavier his chest became, as though unseen chains pressed against his heart.
Then Ashton's voice cut through the silence.
Calm. Resonant. Dangerous.
"May I ask," he said, "who is looking for me?"
The leader sneered, masking his unease with bluster.
"Do you think I would reveal anything to you about Goddess Hela?"
The words had barely left his mouth before the villagers groaned. Some buried their faces in their hands.
"…idiot," someone muttered.
Even Dino exhaled sharply through his nose, his usual calm cracking.
Syph tilted her head, expression utterly flat.
Ashton blinked once, then his lips curled into a faint, almost pitying smile.
"I see. So it is Hela, then."
The man froze. His eyes widened. I said nothing… did I?
"How dare you!" he barked, more out of panic than anger. "You dare utter her name so casually?!"
The man roared and charged forward, sword gleaming with killing intent.
But before he could reach his target—
Steel whispered.
Syph had moved. In less than a heartbeat, her blade was drawn and pressed firmly against his neck.
Her eyes were cold, void of hesitation.
"One more step," she said in a voice as sharp as her sword, "and you die."
The leader froze, sweat dripping down his temple.
That killing intent—it wasn't bluster. This girl would end his life without blinking.
Ashton's gaze softened, though his tone remained calm.
"So, Hela sent you after all."
The leader stammered. "N-No! I never said—"
"You did," Dino interjected flatly from Ashton's other side.
His hand rested on his spear, but he had yet to move. His eyes were sharp as glass. "You said it yourself."
The leader's face burned red. His pride, already wounded, twisted into rage. "Shut up! It doesn't matter what you know.
The outcome is the same. You're coming with us, Ashton!"
"No."
The refusal was immediate, absolute. The word fell like a hammer striking iron, its weight undeniable.
The man trembled, teeth grinding. What is this pressure? This… presence?
"Then don't blame me for what comes next!" He raised his hand, signaling his men. "Kill them all!"
The square erupted in chaos.
Several armed men surged forward at once. One of them, faster than the others, charged directly at Ashton, sword raised high.
Dino moved.
His body blurred, spear flashing with a faint Ether glow. The clash rang like a bell, steel against steel.
Dino's stance was firm, his movements sharp. Each motion was precise—training carved into his muscles by relentless practice.
The villagers gasped. This was not the same man from months ago. This was someone who had grown under Ashton's hand, who now moved like a true warrior.
The enemy snarled, striking again and again. But Dino countered, spear sweeping arcs of light, each parry clean, each counter thrust controlled.
He pressed forward, step by step, driving the man back.
Ashton watched with arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Not perfect yet. But good enough.
The duel grew fierce. The enemy swung wildly, desperate, while Dino remained calm, striking like a coiled serpent. Then, with one sharp exhale, Dino stepped back and hurled his spear.
It whistled through the air, a streak of light.
The weapon pierced the man's chest cleanly, pinning him to the earth.
His eyes went wide, blood bubbling at his lips, before going still.
The leader's expression twisted into pure rage.
"You dare?! You'll pay for this! All of you!"
His voice cracked with fury. "Men, slaughter them!"
The attackers surged again, but this time it wasn't just Dino.
Syph raised her hand. "Charge!"
The elite soldiers—the once-frightened villagers—now moved as one.
They met the attackers with steel and courage, no longer trembling but striking with precision.
The square became a battlefield, cries of effort mixing with the ring of steel.
Amid the chaos, Ashton stepped forward. The leader's blade rose high. Ashton's figure vanished.
[Skill: Shadow Step]
The next moment, Ashton appeared behind him, dagger flashing low. The man barely leapt back, blade scraping as he blocked.
"Damn you!" the leader spat, eyes wild.
Ashton's eyes narrowed. His clairvoyance activated.
The world shifted—threads of Ether wove across the man's body. His joints, his muscles, his heart—all his weaknesses were revealed.
There. The core of his being pulsed faintly in his chest.
In a blur, Ashton closed the gap again.
The man swung with desperate fury, but Ashton's form flickered, vanishing into shadows, bypassing the strike entirely.
The dagger plunged into the leader's chest, sinking deep into his heart.
Ashton's voice was cold, merciless.
"If you had not attacked, I might have spared you. But you chose otherwise.
Die."
The leader's eyes widened in shock. Then dulled. His body crumpled to the ground.
The battle was over.
The villagers looked on, silent. The smell of blood and smoke hung heavy in the air.
Syph stepped forward, wiping her blade clean. Her voice was steady, though her eyes flickered faintly with something unreadable.
"Master. No casualties."
"And the enemy?" Ashton asked, his tone calm.
"No survivors."
"Good. Burn the corpses. Leave nothing behind."
"Yes, Master."
The soldiers obeyed, dragging the bodies into a pile.
Flames soon roared high, smoke twisting into the night sky.
The fire consumed all traces, leaving nothing but ash.
When the flames died, Ashton turned to the villagers.
Their faces were pale, shaken, yet their eyes remained fixed on him.
"I am sorry you had to witness this," Ashton said softly.
"But you must hear me. There is bad news—and good news."
The villagers exchanged glances. Christina, her voice trembling, spoke. "Tell us. What is the bad news?"
"The bad news," Ashton said, his voice now carrying iron, "is that this is only the beginning.
Soon, we will face the gods themselves."
Gasps echoed. Fear rippled through the crowd like a wave. Even Dino and Syph stiffened, though they said nothing.
"And the good news?" Christina asked, bracing herself.
Ashton drew in a slow breath. His right hand pressed firmly against his chest.
His crimson eyes blazed, and his voice thundered, reverberating in every soul present.
"The good news is this: you will not face them alone. I, Ashton, swear on my very life—" His voice rose, unyielding. "—that I will protect my people until my final breath!"
Silence followed.
Then Dino dropped to one knee. His right hand pressed to his chest, his voice strong and clear.
"I pledge my loyalty to my king."
Syph followed, eyes unwavering. "I pledge myself to my king."
The villagers stared, stunned.
One by one, they followed. Men, women, children—all kneeling as one, hands over their hearts. Their voices rang out, unified, shaking the heavens.
The villagers' voices thundered as one:
"We greet the King!"
The sound shook the square, the heavens, and even the hearts of those kneeling.
Ashton stood frozen, crimson eyes wide. King?
Only when Dino's steady voice rang first—his oath echoing into the night—did Ashton understand.
The villagers had not simply chosen to follow him.
They had crowned him.
"…Damn you, Dino," Ashton muttered under his breath, though there was no real anger. Only disbelief, and a faint smile he couldn't suppress.
The villagers remained kneeling, unshaken in their devotion.
Their loyalty was not forced. It was not born of fear. It was a vow—a bond of hearts.
And so, on that night, beneath the smoke of burning corpses and the silent gaze of the stars, a vow was forged.
A vow that would echo beyond their generation, beyond their time.
In later ages, when scholars wrote of legends and kings, this night would be marked with reverence.
They would call it the Beginning of the Journey of the Eternal First King.
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