The next morning, Cirrus stood in the center of the palace courtyard, draped in his luxurious black cloak. He was idly playing with his hair, as usual—without realizing it. Beside him stood Alexander, firm and silent, his gaze fixed on the ground.
On the stone floor, four soldiers knelt in torn uniforms, their faces smeared with blood and tears. They were trembling and begging for mercy, some barely able to stay upright from the beatings.
Alexander (in a cold tone):
"My lord, these soldiers have broken their oath of loyalty. They collaborated with an enemy faction near the borders of Eastern Valinor. They were captured two days ago."
Cirrus (sharply):
"Treason… doesn't need a trial. Execute them immediately."
Alexander gave a slight nod and stepped forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword. But just before he drew it—
Arthur (from behind):
"Stop."
Everyone turned. Arthur was walking slowly into the courtyard, hands in his pockets, his face void of emotion. Behind him, leaning against one of the tall columns, stood Selena, silently observing.
Cirrus (raising an eyebrow, voice sharp):
"Did you say… stop?"
Arthur (now standing before the kneeling soldiers):
"I want to carry out the execution myself."
A low murmur stirred among the guards but quickly faded. The four soldiers froze, some bursting into tears, others screaming.
First Soldier (weeping):
"Please, Prince Arthur! We didn't mean to! Our families were in danger… we were forced!"
Second Soldier (yelling):
"We've served the kingdom for years! Please have mercy… we don't want to die!!"
Arthur didn't respond. He looked at them as if they were nothing more than rocks on the ground, then slowly drew his sword.
Cirrus (watching quietly, his voice low):
"So that's how it is? Show me."
Arthur stepped toward the first soldier and raised his sword slowly—but his hand… wouldn't move.
Third Soldier (bowing, sobbing):
"Please… I have a child… he's sick… let me see him one last time!"
Arthur's hand trembled.
Arthur (whispering to himself):
"Just do it… don't think."
He raised the sword—but then his eyes met those of the fourth soldier. A terrified teenage boy, pleading for his life. And suddenly… a memory surfaced.
Cirrus's voice in his mind:
"If you're not ready to stain your blade with the blood of those closest to you… it's nothing but decoration."
Arthur froze in place.
Alexander (calm but firm):
"Your hesitation… is an insult to the command."
Cirrus (from where he stood, sharply):
"Kill them… or go back to your childish games."
Arthur looked toward his father, then suddenly shouted:
Arthur:
"Enough!!! All of you—SHUT UP!!"
He bent forward, closed his eyes for a moment—then—
"DOOOOOOM!!!"
He slammed his sword down beside the soldier. Flames burst out and dust exploded into the air! The soldiers screamed in terror!
Arthur (furious, voice trembling):
"I don't need to prove my loyalty to you with the blood of the weak!!"
Cirrus (rising slowly from his seat):
"Then you've learned nothing."
Silence fell.
Selena (inner whisper):
"You're not like him, Arthur… but you won't survive if you keep playing with fire."
Cirrus didn't move at first. He stared for a moment at the blade lodged in the ground… then walked toward the soldiers. Each step made them tremble more violently. He looked at them with an empty gaze—devoid of emotion or remorse.
Cirrus (quietly):
"Those who show mercy to traitors… may become traitors themselves without realizing it."
Arthur (trembling, watching him):
"Father… wait…"
But Cirrus didn't wait. In an instant, he raised his right hand, and without warning—
"KRRRAAAAAAAAAASH!!!"
A black wave of fire exploded from his palm—not just burning them… it ripped the soldiers apart! Flesh flew, bones cracked, and blood splattered in every direction! Nothing remained but sizzling blood stains melting into the stone!
Selena gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as nausea hit her. She stumbled back a step, face pale as death.
Selena (whispering):
"Oh… my god…"
Arthur stood frozen. He was no longer the same. His body trembled uncontrollably. His fake confidence vanished. He never imagined… that his father was capable of such monstrous brutality.
Arthur (muttering):
"They… were human…"
Cirrus (turning slowly, voice dry):
"No, Arthur… they were a mistake. And I corrected it."
He then raised his hand again, summoning fire from the ground that devoured the remains within seconds—leaving not even ash. Silence returned. Only the soft fading sound of flame remained… and Arthur's ragged breath as he tried to comprehend what he had witnessed.
Cirrus (calmly, not even looking at him):
"If you wish to inherit me… you must look upon what terrifies you—so you'll never fear it again."
Cirrus stood silently for a moment after burning the ground. Then he slowly turned his gaze toward Selena, still standing near the column, her small body shaking. Her gray eyes held a shock she had never known before. Cirrus approached her… stopped… and bent slightly. He gently placed his hand on her head—firm, not rough, not comforting. Just… present.
Cirrus (in a natural tone):
"This is your first time seeing something like this… isn't it?"
Selena didn't respond. Her lips quivered, but her eyes locked onto his, despite the horror.
Cirrus (continuing calmly):
"You'll hate me a little from now on… that's expected. But when you grow up… you'll understand everything."
He slowly pulled his hand back and walked toward the long hallway that led back to the throne, leaving behind the children… who never really knew who he was.
Selena raised her hand and touched where his palm had rested, as if trying to understand what he meant… and what he had done.
Arthur (whispering to himself):
"What… are you?"
That night, Arthur couldn't sleep. He stood in his room, staring into a tall mirror. His blue eyes had lost their usual arrogant glint… replaced by something more complex… more afraid.
Arthur (to himself):
"He killed them… with his hand… no sword, no hesitation."
He stepped closer to the mirror, studying his face.
Arthur:
"He's not… human."
Suddenly, he screamed and punched the mirror!
"CRAAASH!!"
The glass shattered. Shards scattered across the floor, but he didn't care. He sat down silently, blood dripping from his fist. Then slowly stood, took a deep breath… and left the room.
The palace corridors were nearly empty at this hour, lit only by candlelight. He kept walking until he reached the Portrait Hall, a long corridor lined with giant paintings of Yukaji royal ancestors.
He stopped before a large portrait—of a handsome man in his thirties, with red hair like Ken's and bright blue eyes like Arthur's.
Arthur (whispering):
"That's my grandfather… King Jiro the Second…"
He stepped closer, lifting his hand and placing it over the painting's face—as if comparing his own eyes with Jiro's.
Arthur:
"I thought I inherited everything from my father… but maybe I got something from you too."
Arthur (softly):
"Were you as cruel as him? Or… were you human?"
He stared at the portrait for a few seconds, then continued walking until he reached the side door to the palace's back garden. He opened it quietly, letting the cold air play with his short hair. Silence surrounded him. He clutched his wounded hand… sat on a low marble ledge… and stared at the sky.
Arthur (muttering):
"He killed them as if… they were nothing. And I… couldn't even lift my sword…"
Suddenly—
"Thunk!"
A distant thud rang out. Arthur stood instantly, turning toward the source of the sound.
Then—
"BANG!!"
A gunshot fired toward him! Arthur dove behind a stone pillar just in time—the bullet struck the palace wall behind him!
Arthur (low voice):
"A soldier…? No… not one of ours!"
Out of the shadows stepped a masked man wearing dark gear and combat boots, holding a sleek modern Valorian pistol. His features were obscured, but his movements—his aim—were clearly professional.
Mysterious Soldier (coldly):
"Finally… found the royal bait. Cirrus's own son."
Arthur (smirking defiantly):
"What an idiot… You think I'll be an easy target?"
The soldier didn't reply—he simply raised his weapon again and fired another shot! The second bullet flew toward Arthur like lightning, but he immediately raised his hand.
Arthur: "Vakin of fire… answer me!!"
"FWOOSH!!"
A burst of flame erupted in front of his body, incinerating and melting the bullets in a single second. The soldier took a step back, adjusting his aim, but this time Arthur didn't retreat… he charged forward! Flames blasted from his feet, propelling him toward the enemy, while fire ignited in his right arm.
Arthur (shouting): "Burn!!!"
"KRAAAAASH!!"
A sharp wave of fire surged toward the soldier, but he flipped midair and dodged it masterfully, then fired two consecutive shots! The first bullet grazed Arthur's shoulder—but he ignored it, preparing to attack again… until the second bullet—
"BANG!!"
—pierced his body! In an instant, Arthur froze. The flames in his palm vanished, his eyes widened, and the bullet had struck just between his chest and shoulder. Blood began to slowly seep down his fine formal uniform. He dropped to one knee, clutching the wound tightly—but he didn't fall.
Mysterious Soldier (pointing the gun again): "Still not dead?"
Arthur (low voice, eyes burning): "Cirrus's son… doesn't die that easily."
Arthur rose again at shocking speed despite the injury, his fist reigniting with flame.
Arthur (shouting): "You won't bring me down now!!"
"FWWWWOOOOOSH!!!"
He unleashed a barrage of fiery explosions toward the enemy—blazing flares shaped like flying claws struck the walls and ground around the soldier, forcing him to retreat and take cover. But Arthur's fire was wild… uncontrolled, overheated, scattered. He hadn't yet mastered combat—especially under such pressure.
Soldier (from behind the smoke, coldly): "Great power… but no mind."
Then—
"BANG!"
Another shot rang out from within the smoke. It pierced Arthur's thigh!
"AAAGHH!!"
This time, a loud scream burst from his throat. He couldn't stand… he collapsed to the ground, panting, blood pouring from his leg and shoulder, his chest heaving violently. The soldier approached with calm steps, his rifle aimed straight at Arthur's head.
Soldier: "Game over… king's bait."
He raised his finger to the trigger… then suddenly—
"BOOOOOOOM!!!"
A massive fiery explosion engulfed the back garden! Trees shook, the ground trembled, and the soldier was hurled backward with immense force! In an instant, both he and Arthur were trapped inside a ring of fire… and Cirrus leapt inside!
He walked calmly through the smoke and flames, his sharp eyes glowing in the darkness, his long coat trailing behind him in the blaze.
Cirrus (quiet but heavy voice): "I've been watching you since the first bullet… waiting."
Soldier (rising with difficulty, half his body burned): "You… King Cirrus?! That's impossible…"
Cirrus (stopping a few steps away): "Anyone who touches my son… without my permission, doesn't leave alive."
He raised his hand—and from his palm emerged pure black flames, coiling like serpents, slithering slowly toward the soldier.
Soldier (trembling): "Impossible… this isn't human fire!!"
"FSSSSHHHH!!"
In a flash, the fire devoured the soldier's body! Not a single scream was heard—only the sound of deep burning… until everything disappeared. All that remained was ash, falling gently.
Cirrus remained standing inside the fire ring, sparks reflecting in his gray eyes. The ground beneath him still ablaze, he moved toward Arthur with steady steps. The flames parted for him, obeying him as if by command.
Arthur lay on the ground, blood oozing from his shoulder and thigh, breathing heavily, eyes wide with shock… unsure if he feared the pain, or the man before him.
Cirrus (gazing at him without changing tone): "You stood despite the wound… good. But you're still stupid."
He stopped, then leaned down slightly, staring directly into his eyes.
Cirrus (raising his head, voice stronger): "ALEXXXAAANDER!!!"
His voice echoed like a fiery whip. Seconds later, the sound of fast footsteps approached the garden. Alexander opened the back gate and rushed into the fire ring, which was now extinguishing under Cirrus's control. He immediately stood by the king, eyes sharp and focused.
Alexander (disciplined tone): "Your orders, my lord?"
Cirrus (without looking at him):
"Bring the doctor immediately… then have the servants clean this garden of blood, the walls of bullets, and the trees of ash."
Alexander (bowing): "Right away."
He turned swiftly and ran toward the gate again. Cirrus remained standing over Arthur.
Cirrus (low voice): "This was your first taste… of real death. If you don't learn from it… there won't be a second time."
As Alexander hurried back—now with the royal doctor and an assistant wheeling a portable metal stretcher—Cirrus remained by Arthur's side… silent. After a moment, the king finally knelt, with regal poise, then reached out and wrapped Arthur gently in his strong arms, lifting him off the ground.
Doctor (nervously arriving): "My lord… the stretcher is ready!"
Cirrus didn't reply. He walked toward it slowly, then laid Arthur, who was barely conscious, onto the stretcher himself.
Cirrus (coldly to the doctor): "Clean the wound. Remove both bullets. Use no sedatives."
Doctor (shocked): "But my lord, the pain will be unbearable…"
Cirrus (cutting him off, firm): "He'll endure it."
The doctor glanced at him, bewildered, then nodded and began preparing. Cirrus… remained by the stretcher, watching. He didn't look at Arthur again, as if refusing to witness the pain on his face.
In the dim palace corridors, the sound of the stretcher wheels echoed over the cold marble floor. Alexander walked beside the doctor, while Cirrus followed in imposing silence, his expression carved from stone.
They entered the palace clinic—a sterile room with gray floors and white walls, filled with metal cabinets, modern equipment, and bright lights. Arthur lay on the main exam bed, his body heavy with wounds, face pale, hands still trembling. But his blue eyes remained open, filled with fear and shock.
Doctor (putting on gloves, staring at him nervously): "We'll begin now… no anesthesia."
Arthur (weakly, trying to stay composed): "Do it… just do it…"
Alexander remained silent, hands behind his back, watching the doctor prepare the delicate tools. Cirrus stood at the doorway… not entering, simply folding his arms and staring blankly at the opposite wall.
Then came the pain.
"AAAAAAAAHH!!"
A scream tore through the silence—it was Arthur's. Not the scream of a spoiled child, but a deep, agonizing cry.
"GRAHH!! AAAAH!!"
The screams kept coming—again and again. Every time the forceps dug into the wound, a tear fell from the corner of his eye. His nails dug into the bed's edge, and he bit his lip until it bled.
Doctor (trying to stay composed, speaking while working): "The first bullet… is out… the second is deeper, close to the nerve."
Arthur (screaming): "JUST DO IT!!! DON'T STOOOOOOP!!"
Outside the room… Cirrus didn't move. He remained there, staring at the closed door, his gray eyes unblinking. Every scream reached him—but his expression never changed.
Inside… Arthur's body trembled one final time as the doctor pulled out the second bullet.
Doctor (softly, relieved): "It's done… it's over. He's safe now."
Arthur said nothing. His eyes half-closed, body soaked in sweat and blood, breathing slowly… then finally shut his eyes, falling unconscious.
To be continued…