Lionel felt a voice slither into his mind, a whisper carved from ice. "Just give up, brother… even you can't survive this alone. What can you do?"
The words were not imaginary. They belonged to the one standing before him—his own brother, Thaddeus. The steel of Thaddeus' sword pressed cold against Lionel's throat, a breath away from cleaving everything he was.
Thaddeus. Handsome, immaculate—every inch the paragon: eyes sharp as polished amber, features sculpted, talent and wisdom stacked like towers. But beneath that brilliance… something darker lingered, a hidden edge Lionel had never fully glimpsed. Some called it cunning; Lionel had always called it what it was: manipulation.
A cough tore from his chest, blood spattering his lips. He tasted iron, and his vision swam. Thaddeus tilted his head, a faint smirk curling over those perfect features.
"Sure," Thaddeus said, his voice silk wrapped over steel, "you're a genius—a once-in-a-century mind. Too bad you realize it now… far too late." He leaned closer, the sword a whisper from death. "I feared you might have been a thorn in our side… had you discovered your gift sooner."
Lionel's heart hammered. Rage and disbelief twisted in his chest. He wanted to scream, to strike, to unravel the secrets his brother had hoarded… but the world narrowed to the point of a blade against his skin, and he had no choice but to feel the venom of betrayal.
"Brother…" Lionel rasped, his voice raw, each word a dagger. "If you're going to kill me… then… can I have one last request?"
Thaddeus paused, the sword retracting with a soft metallic sigh. His polished armor gleamed like sunlight on frost, white and gold etched with painstaking care. The blade slid back into its hilt as he regarded Lionel, a slow, calculating smile tracing his lips.
"What is it, brother?" Thaddeus asked, tilting his head. "What is it that you wish from me?"
Lionel's hands trembled, but his gaze held steady. "Nothing much," he said, voice hoarse but unwavering. "Can I… at least fight you? I don't mind dying… if it's in an honorable way."
Thaddeus laughed, a rich sound that carried equal parts amusement and disbelief. "Hah! You mean to say… what I feared all along." He stepped closer, the sunlight glinting off his armor like a halo, though his eyes were sharp and merciless. "You wish to kill me… even knowing the risk. Am I right, brother?"
Lionel's chest heaved, a mix of exhaustion, blood, and defiance. "I couldn't say it any better," he admitted, every word a vow.
The two brothers locked eyes, the world around them fading into silence. Then, as if bound by some sacred rite, their voices rang out together:
"By blood and honor… we endure!"
The words left their lips like a vow, a challenge, a curse.
In the same heartbeat, their swords met with a metallic roar. Steel clashed against steel, sparks dancing like fireflies caught in a storm. Neither yielded. Neither bent. Each held firm, the force of their strike pushing against the other as if the very earth trembled beneath them.
Lionel's arms shook with the effort, muscles coiled like springs, yet his eyes burned with defiance. Across from him, Thaddeus' stance was unyielding, polished armor glinting, jaw set, his golden gaze sharp as the edge he wielded.
They pushed, tested, and pressed, swords locked—a stalemate of strength, skill, and indomitable will. Every breath they drew was a promise. Every heartbeat a drumbeat of a duel that was more than skill—it was blood, honor, and legacy made flesh.
Thaddeus caught the tip of Lionel's sword between two fingers, holding it as if it weighed nothing.
"Too bad," he murmured, voice low and sharp, "if you were in perfect condition, that strike… that brilliant mind of yours… it would have killed me without question."
A flick of his wrist and the tail of his sword drove into Lionel's stomach. Pain lanced through him, but Thaddeus didn't stop. His words slithered into Lionel's ears like venom:
"But if your body can't keep up… then all that genius, all that cunning, it's wasted. Like a gun without bullets, or a bow without a string—no matter how precise your aim, no matter how brilliant your plan… it accomplishes nothing."
He let the image hang in the air, eyes glinting, voice calm yet merciless. Strength was as much a weapon as the mind, and without both, even genius became nothing more than an illusion.
Thaddeus didn't hesitate. His knee drove upward, smashing into Lionel's chin. Pain exploded through him as he clutched his stomach, and his head snapped back from the sheer force.
Thaddeus loomed over him, sword raised, ready to end it in a single, flawless strike. Calm, almost tender in his cruelty, he whispered:
"Brother… I'll finish this in an instant. Be at ease."
The blade surged forward, gleaming like sunlight on steel.
But then—clang!
The sound rang like thunder, vibrating through stone and bone. Thaddeus' sword met a shield, silver and radiant, its surface etched with intricate feathers like angelic wings. At its center, a serene, all-seeing eye stared unblinking, as if measuring his intent and strength.
Thaddeus froze, eyes narrowing. The shield wasn't just defense—it was a statement. Lionel, chest heaving, muscles burning, gripped the silver protector with both hands, standing tall despite the pain, his mind already racing.
This was no ordinary shield. This was a challenge, a warning, a spark that could turn the tide of the battle. And for the first time, Thaddeus realized… Lionel had more surprises hidden than brute strength could anticipate.
"You really don't pay attention much to me, brother," Lionel rasped, blood streaking his face, muscles trembling but eyes burning with defiance. "I'm a blacksmith."
Thaddeus' grin widened, cruel and knowing. "Oh… right. So you want to prolong your life a little longer, brother?" His voice was smooth, mocking, deadly.
He raised his sword high. Golden energy erupted outward, shooting skyward like a colossal blade made entirely of sunlight and force. The air shimmered and trembled under its magnitude, rocks and dust spiraling in the rising vortex of power.
Lionel's silver shield glimmered, wings unfurled, the serene eye at its center tracking the surge. He braced, muscles coiled, ready to respond, knowing this was only the beginning—the golden strike hadn't descended yet, but the force itself pressed down, a living weight of raw power.
The brothers' eyes met, each calculating the other, wills clashing even before the first strike landed. Strategy, strength, and anticipation danced in the charged air, the battlefield humming with the promise of an unstoppable confrontation.
Thaddeus' lips curved into a cruel smirk. "Brother…"
"What is it? Trying to distract me?" Lionel snapped, muscles still coiled, eyes burning with defiance.
"No, brother," Thaddeus replied, voice smooth and merciless. "You didn't think far enough ahead. Do you realize… if I hadn't returned alive, if I had arrived later than they expected… they would have killed your precious Alicia. Do you understand now?"
Lionel's chest tightened. "What do yo—"
Thaddeus lifted his hand, revealing a necklace glinting in the light—one side marked with Lionel's emblem, the other with Alicia's. The gift he had given her, now twisted into a silent threat.
"Brother… how dare you!" Lionel's voice trembled with rage. "To use such a defiling act!"
Thaddeus' grin was sharp, unyielding. "It's strategy, brother. I will use whatever means necessary… to ensure you are erased from this world."
Arrows tore through him—one in the shoulder, another in the side, and a third in his left leg. His knees buckled under the pain, yet he stayed standing, defiance burning in his eyes.
"That is why it's easy to destroy people like you, my brother," Thaddeus said, calm, almost coldly amused. "You show weakness whenever someone you care about is threatened. It's effortless."
He let his sword descend, the air itself trembling with the weight of his command. "Aureate Cascade."
The blade glowed brighter than ever, a torrent of golden energy cascading like heavenly judgment. The light pressed down, scorching, blinding, unstoppable.
Lionel's hands loosened from his sword and shield. He muttered softly, blood mixing with sweat:
"If I die here… then those remaining dear to me… will be spared. That's… for the better."
His eyes closed as the golden force consumed him entirely, body and soul. Pain and defiance shattered in an instant. When the light faded, there was nothing left—only silence, and the stark, cruel proof of Thaddeus' victory.
Thaddeus' sword let out a brilliant glow before the golden force slowly disappeared. When the light faded, Lionel was nowhere to be seen—only the shattered fragments of his silver shield remained, wings broken, the serene eye cracked.
A soldier rushed forward, bowing nervously. "Sir… shall we… release your brother's beloved?"
Thaddeus didn't move his gaze from where Lionel had fallen. His voice was low, measured. "No, she is dead. She could not bear it."
The soldier's eyes widened. "Pardon?"
Thaddeus' lips curved into a faint, chilling smile. "I left her food, a knife, and a mana crystal—so she could see what happened today. But when she saw him… she chose to end her own life. Better that than live in endless torment, powerless, without my brother. Alicia admired him… since they were children."
He shook his head slightly, almost as if speaking to himself. "Ah… I speak too much again."
On the other side of the crystal, Alicia's scream echoed silently, her hand clutching the knife she had been given. The mana crystal reflected the battlefield, and in that moment, she could see everything—Lionel, broken and gone.
Then, crimson spilled from her wrist. She slumped, the crystal tumbling from her hands. Silence fell across the world.
Thaddeus drew his sword back and let it rest in its hilt, the battlefield empty save for broken steel, shattered wings, and the weight of two lives ended.
The ground trembled violently, cracks spidering across the battlefield. Thaddeus glanced back, expecting—half-hoping—that Lionel had returned.
But it wasn't him.
Silver fragments lifted and moved on their own, forming a whole, gleaming shield. Thaddeus' eyes widened. "The shield!!!" he shouted.
The shield was no ordinary weapon. Lionel had called it The Pactbearer. It was a covenant made of living steel and an enchanted soul, carrying the weight of life itself. Its purpose was absolute: to defend its wielder, to honor the unspoken bond between challenger and protector.
But the Pactbearer held a darker power. Should the pact be broken—through cowardice, betrayal, or deceit—a relentless entity known as the Wraith of Broken Vows would awaken. Its mission was singular: to claim the life of the one who broke the promise.
The shield hovered, wings unfurled, its eye at the center gleaming as if alive, radiating both protection and the weight of an unbroken vow.
Thaddeus froze as the shards of the Pactbearer wavered in the air. The one he was supposed to spare—Alicia—was dead. The realization hit him like ice.
"Brotherrrrr!!!" he roared, rage and disbelief mixing in his voice. "Still… a thorn on my side!"
The eye at the center of the shield shattered with a deafening crack. From it, a massive, dark arm erupted, claws digging into the earth, each strike leaving deep gouges as it slowly pulled its hulking body out of the shield. The air grew heavy, charged with a living, wrathful presence.
Thaddeus staggered back, memories of Lionel's last words flashing through his mind:
"You really didn't pay attention much to me, brother… I'm a blacksmith."
A cold chill ran down his spine. The Pactbearer was no longer just a shield—it was a promise. And now, it was coming for him.
A voice, deep and unyielding, echoed from the shattered eye of the Pactbearer, reverberating through the trembling ground.
"You, Thaddeus… the one who broke the pact. I shall take your soul and offer it to my master—Death itself."
The ground quaked as the dark arm flexed, claws digging deeper, dragging its massive form fully from the shield. Shadows stretched and writhed, forming an almost living nightmare.
"The punishment for failing the pact… is unrelenting." The voice growled, each word dripping with malice. "A million lashes of heated iron spikes… and a thousand thrusts to every part of your body."
Thaddeus' grip on his sword faltered. His chest tightened, golden eyes widening in disbelief. The magnitude of what he had unleashed—the consequence of his hubris—pressed down on him like the weight of the world itself.
The Pactbearer hovered before him, wings unfurled, eye glowing with vengeful fury. Every heartbeat thudded in the air like a drum of doom. Thaddeus, for the first time since the duel began, felt the true meaning of fear.
Shadows swirled violently around the half-formed Wraith, spinning in grotesque, writhing patterns across its body. Eyes blinked slowly, appearing all over the dark mass, unblinking yet alive, each one searching.
In front of Thaddeus, a massive eye opened, blinking deliberately. Recognition flared within it—Thaddeus. The pupil shrank, narrowing with deadly awareness.
Then, the eye twisted, reshaping grotesquely into wet, glimmering lips.
A voice, deep, unnatural, and dripping with malice, issued from them:
"Found you."
Thaddeus froze, golden eyes wide, as the shadows of the Wraith tightened around it, pulsating and alive. The nightmare, half-formed yet fully aware, stared him down.
The massive eye twisted and stretched grotesquely, slowly forming into enormous, glimmering lips. A horrifying, violating shriek tore from them, echoing across the battlefield:
"KIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"
The guards screamed and scattered, fleeing in terror from the unearthly sound.
Thaddeus planted his feet, gritting his teeth. His golden eyes flared. Slowly, deliberately, his sword began to glow, brilliant light coursing along the blade. A massive golden force surged outward, radiating like a sunburst, the air itself trembling under its magnitude.
He raised the glowing blade high, every muscle coiled with power, and brought it down with unstoppable force.
"Aureate Cascade!!! Begone from my light, you disgusting monster!"
The golden torrent slammed into the Wraith, illuminating the shadows, scorching the ground, and forcing the half-formed nightmare back under the raw, divine brilliance of Thaddeus' fury.
Thaddeus' sword cut into the Wraith, the golden force slicing through shadows—but it wasn't flesh. It felt liquid, writhing, impossible. A shiver ran down his spine as he realized the strike had no true effect.
In an instant, the Wraith flicked Thaddeus' knee. A sickening snap, a burst of pain—his knee was gone. He staggered, eyes wide with shock and fear. Before he could fall, the Wraith's shadows lashed out, gripping his arm with an unyielding, inhuman strength.
"No… no… no! Let me goooooo!" Thaddeus screamed, flailing violently, golden light trembling in his grip.
The Wraith's grotesque lips wrapped partially around his body, and it unleashed a shriek that shook the air:
"KIEEEEEEEE!!!! KEKEKE!"
Its voice, unnatural and mocking, dripped with contempt. "Such fragile flesh… bestowed to you by God."
Thaddeus' vision blurred, his sword trembling in his hand. For the first time, the unstoppable force he had wielded seemed… utterly insignificant.
Thaddeus' golden eyes blazed with fury and fear. "I need to… get out of its grip!" he muttered through gritted teeth. Pain radiated from his torn knee and trapped arm, but he refused to surrender.
He focused all the energy in his right hand. Light began to swirl, coalescing into a brilliant sphere of pure force, spinning faster and faster as he poured every ounce of power into it.
The Wraith's grotesque lips twisted into a mocking smile. Its voice echoed, cruel and mocking: "Such brilliant light you have there…"
In a horrifying display, it pinched the glowing sphere with impossible ease, holding it like it weighed nothing. Then, as if testing him, the Wraith's shadows slowly wrapped around one of Thaddeus' fingers, pulling it inch by inch.
"N—nooo! Sto—stop! Stop!!!" Thaddeus screamed, his voice cracking with pain, golden light flickering violently as he struggled against the impossible grip of the Wraith.
Thaddeus' finger was being pulled slowly, excruciating pain shooting through his arm and shoulder. He screamed, voice raw and broken.
"Ahhhhhhh!!!"
The Wraith's grotesque lips twisted into a cruel grin. "What a crybaby," it mocked. "Don't worry… you still have nine fingers left, chosen hero of God. But let's continue, shall we?"
"Sto—stop… no… no…!!" Thaddeus gasped, golden light flickering wildly in his grip, knees trembling as agony coursed through him.
The shadows beneath the Wraith began to shift. Slowly, deliberately, the dark mass descended from the ground, looming over Thaddeus like a living nightmare.
Its mocking laughter echoed across the battlefield, chilling every breath. Each movement was deliberate, a calculated display of power, as if savoring the torment it inflicted.
Thaddeus gritted his teeth, eyes blazing, fighting against both pain and fear—but the Wraith's grip, relentless and alive, allowed no reprieve.
The Wraith loomed above Thaddeus, shadows writhing around its half-formed body. Its grotesque lips twisted into a sinister grin.
"I promise you," it hissed, voice dripping with malice, "when we descend below… you will enjoy the endless torment of us. Not just whips and stabs… we will discover many different kinds of delights with my master. So don't cry over something as simple as this."
Thaddeus' golden eyes blazed with fear and fury, but no sound escaped him. The Wraith's laughter echoed through the air like shards of ice.
And then—they were gone. The shadows twisted, pulling both Thaddeus and the half-formed horror downward, descending into darkness. The battlefield above remained eerily silent, the golden light of Thaddeus' sword extinguished, leaving only the memory of his struggle and the shadow of the nightmare that claimed him.
Darkness gave way to a faint light. The air was different—still, strange, and heavy with the scent of distant forests and old stone.
A young, unsure voice broke the silence.
"Where… am I?"