Chapter 4: My Family (Part 2)
Nate had reached the broken staircase leading to the palace door. He moved cautiously among the corpses, trying not to step on them or stare too closely. The sight of soldiers in black armor, completely burnt, their faces charred beyond recognition, made his heart sink.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him.
"Hello, welcome back, young master. Why didn't you send a message to tell me that you were returning?" said a voice.
Nate turned, and his eyes widened. There wasn't just one person—there were many, lined up, wearing red armor with helmets hiding their faces.
At the front stood a figure in more ornate red armor, a white robe draped over his shoulder, red hair and matching eyes, with a small beard on his chin. Nate recognized him immediately—Carlos, one of the Field family's Knight leaders.
Carlos looked at him, a flicker of anger on his face. "Do you know that if someone hadn't sent me a message, I wouldn't be here?"
Nate thought, recalling the delivery at the city entrance. Only David knew he had arrived; now it made sense why the guards had reacted strangely.
Carlos glanced around, frowning. "Where's your sister who ran away?! Weren't you with her?"
Nate's heart skipped. "What do you mean she ran away?! What happened here?!"
Carlos rubbed his chin, nodding slowly. "If your sister is not with you, it wasn't mentioned in the letter. That also explains why there were no special forces for her…" His anger flared.
Turning to his men, he began moving the right and left regiments into arches, forming a circle around Nate.
Carlos stepped forward a few short paces, a sneer on his lips. "As expected of the lord of the family, he shows some intelligence, though his father never passed it on. He orchestrated the escape of his son and daughter…" He laughed, "But look, one of them is back here."
Nate frowned, confused. He remembered nothing about an escape plan. He had been sent to a neighboring city under his father's orders, but now he understood—the intention was to protect him from the incoming attack.
Nate asked, worried: "Who is this family that forced my father to organize an escape? And where is he now?"
Carlos stopped, raised his hand toward the sky, and laughed maniacally. "HAHAHAHAHA… How wonderful to be ignorant. You are the spoiled young master of the Field family. Your father smuggled you out, expecting you wouldn't return."
He paused, his expression mocking. "He knew he couldn't resist his new powerful enemy, which he did not want to confront."
Nate looked at the bodies again, a mix of relief and horror crossing his face. "So… you took care of them here?"
Carlos smiled wickedly. "No… you are mistaken. I am the enemy."
Shock froze Nate in place. "But… why betray the family?"
Carlos' eyes blazed. "Because of your father's mentality—staying low, even though we were strong enough to demand more. I am now the most powerful Knight leader. I received requests to leave and join a stronger family…" He grinned sinisterly. "So I left with one condition: the destruction of the Field family."
Nate took a step back, panic in his eyes.
Carlos sighed. "Enough talk. Time is precious."
Then, he began moving forward, step by step, toward Nate, leaving small columns of fire behind each step. The ground hissed and crackled under the fiery footprints. Nate's eyes widened in terror as the flames crept closer, marking every advance of his enemy.
Nate stumbled backward, his eyes following every small column of fire that erupted from the ground with Carlos' steps. The heat was intense, and the scent of burning wood and scorched earth filled his nostrils. He realized that escape was no longer an option—the fiery path blocked his way back, and the knights encircled him tightly.
Carlos took another step forward, and the flames behind him leapt higher, illuminating his sinister grin. "Don't be afraid, young master. I won't kill you… yet," he said, his voice calm but full of menace.
Nate clenched his fists, his mind racing. "Why… why betray your own family? What do you want from us?"
Carlos laughed, a low, cold sound. "Power, young master. Strength. The Field family has grown weak, and I intend to correct that… permanently."
Each step he took forward was calculated, a deliberate pacing that seemed to make the flames behind him grow larger, a living trail of fire marking his advance. Nate felt his heart hammering in his chest, but he knew he had to act.
He ducked behind a fallen column, looking for anything he could use as a weapon. His eyes scanned the ground—shattered debris, broken wood, even a discarded sword, all within reach if he could be quick enough.
Carlos stopped briefly, tilting his head, as if enjoying Nate's fear. "I like it when my prey struggles. Shows life… shows resistance."
Nate's throat tightened. He could hear the men behind Carlos moving in synchrony, their armored footsteps echoing on the blood-soaked ground. Panic clawed at him, but determination replaced hesitation. He would not be an easy victim.
Taking a deep breath, he prepared to strike. His hands shook slightly as he gripped a broken sword hilt, his eyes never leaving Carlos. Every flicker of the small fiery columns reminded him—time was running out, and every second could cost him his life.
Nate's heart pounded as Carlos advanced step by step. Each movement left a small column of fire behind, crackling and hissing. The heat pressed against him, and the sight of the burning trail made his stomach twist with fear.
He tightened his grip on the broken sword, taking a cautious step back while keeping his eyes fixed on Carlos. The leader of the knights seemed almost deliberate in his pace, as if enjoying Nate's growing panic.
Carlos raised a hand slightly, and the flames behind him flickered higher. "Do not be afraid… yet," he said with that cruel grin.
Nate's mind raced. He tried to remember any lesson from his past training, any memory that could give him an edge. But the closer Carlos came, the harder it became to think.
Step by step, the fiery columns marked Carlos' advance. Nate took another step back, avoiding the heat and the dangerous path of fire. He realized that escape was impossible; confrontation was inevitable.
With his eyes never leaving Carlos, Nate whispered to himself, "I… I have to stop him."
The next step Carlos took caused a louder hiss as a column of fire shot higher, almost brushing Nate's shoulder. His body tensed, ready for whatever move would come next.
Nate's grip on the broken sword tightened as Carlos stepped closer, the columns of fire behind him growing taller, hotter, as if alive. Each step made Nate's heart hammer faster. There was no time to think—only react.
Carlos' eyes gleamed red, fixed on Nate, his grin widening with every movement. Nate's mind scrambled for a strategy, but the closer Carlos came, the more desperate the young master felt.
Suddenly, Carlos swung his fist in a precise arc toward Nate's stomach. The force sent him flying backward, colliding with the palace wall. Pain shot through his body, and white spots danced in front of his eyes.
He tried to get up, but his body refused to obey. His vision blurred as the fire from Carlos' columns reflected in his eyes, each flame a reminder of the inescapable danger.
Nate fell onto the blood-stained ground, gasping for breath. His eyes rolled back, white and unfocused, while bubbles escaped his mouth. The world spun around him, and the echo of Carlos' cruel laughter filled his ears.
The last thing he felt was the searing heat and the oppressive presence o
f Carlos, stepping closer, leaving a trail of fire marking every movement. Then… darkness.