Kyros could barely stand.

  The weight of the world pressed on his shoulders. Blood dripped into scarlet puddles, tracing a path back to the bodies of his fallen sons.

  And then, in that burning horizon, his worst nightmare became real.

  — No… no… NO! — Kyros roared, his voice so desperate the stones themselves seemed to tremble. — STAY AWAY!

  Lukas and Leli had arrived. The flames devouring the city were reflected in their eyes.

  — Father… — Leli whispered, voice breaking. — We… we came to help…

  Anatoly’s smile widened — slow, cruel — like the blade he carried.

  — What a beautiful family reunion, — he said, each word a nail driven into Kyros’s chest.

  Fear locked Lukas and Leli in place. Their legs refused to move. The very air had turned to poison.

  Kyros staggered forward to shield them. The sword shook in his hand. His body screamed to fall.

  He would not. Not yet.

  — YOU WILL NOT KILL ANOTHER CHILD OF MINE! — he thundered, voice echoing among the ruins. — Even if my heart stops, even if my body breaks… I WILL BURY YOU HERE, ANATOLY!

  A cold wind blew, as if the world itself held its breath.

  A soft blue gleam ignited.

  TinBell, Queen of the Fairies, stepped through a trembling light. Her wings were torn. Her eyes swam with grief.

  — Kyros… I… I don’t have enough power… — she murmured.

  — NOW! — Kyros roared, fury ripping the sky itself. — Take my children! Use arcane magic! SEND THEM AWAY FROM THIS MONSTER!

  — But… and you…? — TinBell whispered, tears bright on her cheeks.

  Kyros turned his face, meeting her eyes for a single heartbeat.

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  — If you ever respected me… DO WHAT I ASKED… NOW!

  Anatoly lifted one hand, a black circle pulsing there like a second heart.

  — What a waste, — he said. — You should have accepted death by now.

  The world became pure motion.

  Anatoly surged forward with inhuman speed. Kyros raised his blade in a final burst of strength.

  — RAAAAH!

  Anatoly’s fist drove through his abdomen — a brutal impact and a torrent of blood so hot it burned.

  — I warned you, — Anatoly whispered into his ear.

  Kyros staggered.

  Instead of falling, he planted his feet and rammed his sword into the enemy’s flank. The blade blazed like a dying sun. Anatoly gasped — and for the first time, his eyes widened.

  Thunder roared inside Kyros one last time.

  — Do you truly think… you’ll snuff out a legend that easily, Anatoly?! I am Kyros Fernandes! And my legend will keep burning… in the bones, the blood, and the wrath of those who bear my name!

  — Lukas… is my reflection in youth. And one day… you’ll understand.

  He spat blood and met Anatoly’s gaze.

  — YOU, ANATOLY… WILL DIE BY MY HANDS IN THE FUTURE, WRETCH!

  The sword erupted in light and thunder.

  — DAWN OF THE LAST THUNDER!

  Light devoured everything. Fire and frost howled together in an apocalyptic gale. Anatoly was hurled into a wall that collapsed under the impact. When he rose, half his chest was ripped open, one arm hanging uselessly — and yet his lips curled into a hideous smile.

  — Hahahaha… is that all you had, Kyros? Just… that?

  Even so, Kyros remained standing.

  Blood streamed from his mouth. His neck was torn. But his eyes still burned with the thunder that refuses to die.

  Anatoly took the final step and drove his blade through Kyros’s throat.

  Even then, Kyros did not fall. He died on his feet, eyes locked on his enemy — a mountain that refuses to break.

  — FORGIVE ME…! — TinBell cried, hands shaking as she threw her magic wide.

  An arcane circle surged around Lukas and Leli.

  — NO! FATHER! — Lukas screamed, struggling against the light.

  Blue radiance swallowed them — warm and cruel all at once — and in a flash, they were gone.

  To the last second, Lukas saw his father’s body, unmoving, still upright, eyes open to the horizon.

  They awoke on a distant hill. The night wind carried the stench of ash. Leli sobbed into her hands.

  Lukas dropped to his knees. His chest burned as if a dagger had been lodged where his heart should be.

  — I… I swear… — he murmured.

  He lifted his face to the starless sky, where smoke from the dead city still rose. A fire no monster could quench raged in his eyes.

  — I will kill him. I will kill all of you. Tower of the Unfortunate… — his voice cracked, raw with pure hatred. — If he is the Eleventh… then ten remain. And I… I WILL KILL THEM ONE BY ONE! I WILL NEVER FORGET!

  The wind howled in answer.

  And thus, as the moon bore witness to the final destruction of Capital Sorriso, the Night of the Massacre came to an end.

  But upon the ashes, the seed of a legendary vengeance began to sprout.

  End of Chapter 1