The field of battle was quiet at last.
What had been an immense labyrinth of creatures and shadowbeasts now hung thick with dead bodies. The walls of the dungeon pulsed with unholy light, veins of blood-colored mana seeping into stone like hemoglobin. The air reeked—full of iron and smoke—but Lucian Vale stood tall, his black cloak torn and his sword dripping ichor.
Behind him, the shadows moved. They were his friends, his army, his only unwavering allegiance. Born of his mana, they moved without questioning. Each tendril of darkness moved at his bidding, retreating into his body after their brutality.
The Monarch of Shadows. Such was what the world whispered. A name carried with fear, respect… and jealousy.
But now, he wasn't concerned with the power that had given him that title. He was concerned with the faces behind him—the soldiers who had fought alongside him. The ones who, after all the bloodshed, he had come to trust.
"Finally…" A voice echoed back from the rear, smooth and level. "The last floor. The final gate."
Lucian nodded stiffly, chest heaving with fatigue. "One more step, and the world above will be safe. Then we all go home."
There was a pause, tense and fleeting, and the only sound was the hum of the dungeon's weakened core. And then—laughter.
Not comrades' tired laughter at having survived another battle. But cold. Sardonic.
Lucian turned, furrowing his brow.
Magnus stood over him, his scarlet armor gleaming in the dungeon light. The silver Crowe family emblem—a serpent eating its own tail—called out to Lucian. He had always found it disconcerting. Now he understood why.
"You… don't mean that," Lucian growled, his instincts shrieking.
By Magnus, Selene Frost appeared, her white cloak flapping like snow in the motionless air. Her silver eyes glittered with frost, her beauty no more stable than the jian she now held slackly in hand.
"Oh, Lucian," she said, her voice as lovely as poison. "You were always too innocent. Did you really think we followed behind you for loyalty?"
Lucian's fingers tightened around his sword. His shadows shivered, hungry to strike. "What are you saying?"
Magnus's smile was not kind. It was not grateful. It was the smile of a victor.
"I'm saying," Magnus drawled, "that the Monarch of Shadows doesn't have a place in the new world. You did your job. You cleared the way. But you've become. dangerous."
The words cut deeper than any blade. Lucian's mind reeled. He remembered the potions Magnus had administered, the fatherly slaps on the back, the way Selene had been standing guard over him in combat just hours before. And then he felt it—the fire in his blood. His breath suspended, vision fading.
The potion.
Lucian retreated, anger and betrayal twisting his features. His shadows lashed out, arrows of darkness shattering the ground at the feet of Magnus. But his body collapsed, his power draining with every beat.
"You poisoned me…" It was a harsh whisper, his voice guttural.
Selene tilted her head to one side, almost pitying. "We could not afford a battle with you at maximum strength. Forgive us, Lucian. You should have realized… monsters do not have a place among men."
Magnus stepped forward, sword held level. The light of the dungeon core gave his sword a red hue. "Farewell, old friend."
The strike was sudden. Lucian barely parried, his wounded arm trembling with the blow. His shadows screamed in his mind, thrashing wildly, but the venom muted his control. Breath became harder, slower.
Behind him, the rest of the group observed. No face averted. No hand went up in protest.
And this is it…
He had fought for them. Bled for them. Led them through hell itself. And in the end, not even one voice spoke in his defense.
The blade cut its way past his guard. Pain exploded through his chest. Blood spilled across his mouth.
Lucian dropped to his knees, shadows writhing uselessly around him like wounded animals.
"I gave you everything…"
His voice was barely audible, heavy with blood and grief. His gaze locked onto Magnus's face.
".and you still managed to betray me."
Magnus moved in quietly, his voice hushed and cruel. "Another lifetime, Vale. Perhaps then you will understand."
The last blow hit his heart.
Lucian's vision faded. His shadows let out one last moan before disappearing into the air. The dungeon around him retreated into silence.
But in his last, fleeting thought, his mind did not reach for retribution.
It reached for her.
Seraphine Lys. The woman with the soft laugh, the elegant hands that had always brought him out of shadows. The one he could not protect, before he ever bore the name Monarch.
Seraphine… I couldn't save you…
And then, nothing.
A savage gasp tore from Lucian's lips. His chest heaved, lungs burning as if he'd emerged from drowning.
His eyes struggled open. Not the dungeon. Not blood.
A ceiling he hadn't seen in years greeted him—the academy dorm rooms, embossed beams, cracked plaster. Sunlight streamed through the high window, accompanying the ring of bells.
His hands trembled as he raised them into the light. No scars. No blood. No shadow burns branded on his skin. His body is younger—leaner, unscarred.
The poison. The betrayal. The dungeon. All gone.
Lucian's eyes snapped open, his heart racing. "This… this can't happen."
But the bells kept on ringing, steady and unchanging.
The entrance exam.
He knew this sound. He remembered this day. The beginning of it all—the day he had first walked into the Royal Arcane Academy. The day it had started.
He lurched to the mirror across the room, stumbling over his own boots. The face that stared back at him was the face of his younger self. Seventeen. Wide-eyed, but wary. Untainted by the wars and the deceptions that awaited him.
Lucian gripped the edge of the mirror, eyes rapt with stunned amazement. Breath breathed in great gasping lumps, then fell into a hard, icy stillness.
He was dead. He had been betrayed. And yet—he stood here.
Alive. Given a second chance.
His fists were clenched. Shadows trembled faintly at his feet, sensing their master even in this earlier form.
This time…
This time, he would be free. No one would govern him. No one would betray him. And Seraphine—Seraphine Lys would never again die at his side.
Lucian Vale was back. And the world would shake.