The stars do not align without a purpose. Last time, they marked the birth of a war that drowned the world in blood, but tonight… Tonight they whispered of something far worse.

  The words replayed in his mind as he stood atop the battlements, his crimson gaze fixed on the horizon. The sky was a curtain of shifting constellations, the stars shining with an unnatural light, as if reacting to the storm raging in his thoughts. The city burned below him, the streets were choked with smoke, and the cries of the dying, both villagers and knights, filled the air. The largest kingdom in the world was crumbling, and Kaiser was the only one left to stop it.

  But stopping it meant facing him.

  Sabel Stoorm.

  The man who he had once considered a brother, and now the man who had taken everything from him.

  The wind tugged at his long, black hair, unbound and wild, as he turned away from the carnage. His once immaculate military uniform was now a patchwork of ash and blood, with smoke dulling the gold trim. The medals of valor clinked softly with each step, a bitter reminder of the oaths he had sworn—oaths that now felt like chains binding him to a world he could no longer save.

  His boots crunched over broken weapons and splintered stone as he made his way down the battlements. Below, in the courtyard, lay a cemetery of knights, their bodies stretched out in hideous positions, their armor scuffed or destroyed. Some still clutched their swords, their faces frozen in expressions of pain and defiance. Others layed motionless, their eyes staring blankly at the starry sky.

  As he stepped into the courtyard, the few surviving knights turned to face him. Their eyes widened as they recognized him, their hands trembling while still holding their weapons. They had heard the tales of the warrior whose fury could level cities, of a man who could effortlessly defeat a hundred soldiers all alone.

  They had heard of a man called Kaiser Dios.

  However, there was a big difference between hearing about him and seeing him.

  One knight, bolder than the rest, stepped forward, his sword trembling in his hand. “Halt!” he shouted, though his voice cracked under the weight of his fear. “You—you can’t be here! Emperor Sabel ordered—”

  Kaiser stopped, his scarred right eye, half-hidden beneath his unkempt hair, stared at the knight with a cold, unflinching stare. The knight faltered, his sword dipping slightly, as if the weight of Kaiser’s gaze made his sword ten times heavier.

  Kaiser said in a steady, low voice, "The Emperor will die."

  The knight swallowed hard, looking around for support from his fellow knights. However, none of them came forward. Their faces were white with terror as they stood motionless, their weapons gripped tightly. "It's him," muttered one of them, a younger knight with a bloodied face. “It’s really him.”

  As he fought to maintain his position, the knight's knuckles turned white and his sword shook in his hand. “You think we’ll just let you pass?” His voice cracked as he demanded. “After everything you’ve done? You’re a monster!”

  Behind him, the other knights shuffled back, their eyes darting to the bodies scattered across the courtyard, one of them even whispering a prayer under their breath.

  Kaiser’s expression didn’t change. “I’m not here for you, little solider.” he said, his voice calm but edged with menace.

  The knight paused, glancing at the corpses strewn all over the courtyard. He had witnessed Kaiser's abilities. All of them had. The way he moved like a storm, how his blade seemed to sing as it sliced through flesh and bone, and how he left nothing but silence… All of that was depicted in the stories, but they didn't do the reality justice.

  The younger knight took a step back, his voice trembling. “Let him go. He’s not here for us.”

  "Are you insane?” The bolder knight yelled, his tone shaky. "He is a murderer! A monster!"

  The air appeared to get colder for a moment as Kaiser's eyes narrowed. “A monster?” he repeated, his voice soft. “Maybe. But I’m not the one who turned this city into a graveyard. That was Sabel. And if you want to live to see the dawn, you’ll let me pass.”

  The bolder knight opened his mouth to argue, but the younger one grabbed his arm. “Don’t,” he whispered urgently. “You saw what he did to the others. You saw what he is.”

  The bolder knight hesitated, his sword trembling in his hand. Finally, he stepped aside, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear. “Go,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “Just… go.”

  Kaiser silently passed them, his boots stomping on the blood-stained stones. The other knights' eyes widened in fear as they parted before him like a wave. No one was brave enough to brandish a weapon, nobody was brave enough to even speak. As he passed, one of the knights—a grizzled veteran with a deep scar across his cheek—muttered under his breath, “Gods help us all.”

  Kaiser didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. He could feel their fear, their relief as he moved on. They had kept their lives, and in exchange, Kaiser was allowed to enter the castle, the place that was once his home.

  The corridors of the palace were eerily silent, especially for the number of still living knights that were still present. The walls, once adorned with tapestries and banners, were now bare, their grandeur stripped away by war.

  He paused at the entrance of the throne room, the grip on the hilt of his sword tightening. The enormous doors, whose ancient wood was carved with warped, twisted patterns, stood slightly open. Like the veins of some long-dead creature, dried blood seeped into the crevices and streaked across the elaborate designs.

  Beyond them, he could hear the faint sound of laughter, each note laced with cruelty, every breath drawn from a voice he knew all too well. Cold. Mocking. Waiting.

  Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.

  The chamber that had once been the throne was now a shadow of its former self. The tall columns had been reduced to rubble, and the once-gleaming marble floors had been cracked and discolored. The throne itself was a rusted, twisted monstrosity at the far end of the room; its once-majestic form had been transformed into a hideous parody of power.

  And there, leaning against it, was Sabel Stoorm.

  The man looked up as he entered, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. His white hair spilled over his shoulders like a waterfall of snow, a stark contrast to the bloodstained armor he wore. He had a rusted blade in his hand, its sharp edge shining as bright as a star.

  “Ah, the prodigal son returns,” Sabel said, his voice smooth and dripping with mockery. “I was beginning to think you’d lost your way. Or perhaps your nerve”

  Kaiser remained silent. He looked around the room, at the devastation, then at the figure leaning against the throne. The king, his teacher, his master and his father.

  Kaiser’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching until his knuckles turned white. He felt no grief, no tears welling in his eyes. The King had raised him as a son, yes, but also as a weapon—a blade forged in the fires of war, honed to a razor’s edge. Weapons do not mourn. They do not weep. They break, they cut and they endure.

  Yet, for a fleeting moment, something stirred in the depths of Kaiser’s chest—a shadow of what might have been sorrow, or perhaps rage, or both. It was not grief for the man who had shaped him, but for the lie of what they could have been. A father and a son, not a king and his weapon. The feeling burned, brief and sharp, before it was swallowed by the cold void within him.

  ‘You deserved better,’ Kaiser thought. ‘But so did I.’

  “Isn't that quite a sight?” Sabel pointed to the King's body as he spoke. “To be honest, I didn't anticipate that he would pass away so quietly. However, he always had a thing for tradition and pride.”

  Kaiser's grip tightened around his sword's hilt. "You killed him."

  With a broad smile, Sabel nodded, "I did… And I’d do it again. He was a fool, clinging to outdated ideals and meaningless oaths. Just like you.”

  Kaiser stepped forward and pulled his blade out of the sheath. "Sabel, this ends tonight."

  Sabel laughed, a cold, mocking sound that echoed through the chamber. “Oh, it does. But not the way you think. You see, I’ve been waiting for this moment—waiting to see the great Kaiser broken. Tell me, how does it feel? Knowing you failed all of them? Knowing you failed her?”

  Kaiser’s eyes burned with a fury that seemed to set the very air ablaze. “You don’t get to say her name.”

  "Velaria," Sabel said in a gentle yet mocking tone. "Your dear wife. Do you still hear her voice in your dreams, Kaiser? Or has time finally robbed you of that as well?"

  The name hung in the air like a curse, and for the first time, Kaiser flinched. Sabel’s laughter echoed through the chamber once again, sharp and cruel.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Did you think I’d forgotten?” Sabel sneered. “Did you think I’d let you hide behind your silence? No, Kaiser. You don’t get to disappear. Not after everything you’ve done.”

  The rage in Kaiser's eyes seemed to ignite the air itself. “You are not allowed to say her name. You are not allowed to say any of their names.” And thus, he ran towards Sabel with all his might.

  Sabel’s grin widened. “Or what? You’ll kill me? You’ve been trying that for years, and look where it’s gotten you. Broken. Alone. A relic of a man who couldn’t keep a single promise.”

  Kaiser’s blade came up in a flash, the steel singing as it cut through the air. Sabel met it with his own weapon, the clash of steel ringing out like a scream.

  Sabel skidded back from the force of the blow, his smile unwavering. "Oh, such anger! I can see the rage and desperation in your eyes. Tell me, though, is it pleasant? After all this time, letting it all out?"

  Kaiser remained silent. He launched an assault, his blows getting harder and faster as they moved closer to the edge of the throne, but with enraging ease, Sabel danced away, his movements as smooth as water.

  “You’re quick, I’ll give you that,” Sabel mocked, deflecting another blow. “But speed will not save you from me, nor from the truth.”

  Kaiser’s sword cleaved downward, splitting the tiles where Sabel had stood into a spiderweb of cracks. “The truth?” His words hissed through clenched teeth, raw as a fresh wound. "The truth is that you’re a coward hiding behind cheap tricks and empty words."

  Sabel’s grin faltered for the briefest of moments, but he recovered quickly. "A coward? No, friend. It's me who is honest. I don't hide behind principles or oaths. I take what I deserve, and I don’t apologize for it.”

  Kaiser’s eyes narrowed. "Deserve? That night, it was you who deserved to die, not her!" He screamed. “That was the only thing you ever deserved!”

  “And yet here I am,” Sabel said, spreading his arms wide. “And you? Still fighting. Still clinging to the hope that you can make things right. But you can’t, can you? She’s gone. They’re all gone. No river of blood you create will be deep enough to drown out that truth.”

  Kaiser’s grip tightened on his sword. “This isn’t about bringing them back. It’s about making sure you never take anyone else.”

  Sabel tilted his head, his grin honed to a razor’s edge. “Ah, Kaiser. Still trying to stitch virtue from violence.”

  In an instant, Kaiser closed the gap, his blade a silver blur as he moved like a shadow. His movements were too quick for the eye to follow, and the air itself seemed to scream as he struck. The impact sent a shockwave through the throne room as Sabel just managed to raise his rusted blade in time to parry the blow.

  Sabel was sent skidding backwards by the force of the strike, his boots making grooves in the cracked marble floor. His red eyes flickered uneasily, but his smile remained. “You’ve gotten even faster.”

  Kaiser didn’t respond. He was already moving again, his blade arcing through the air in a deadly horizontal slash. Sabel ducked, the edge of the sword slicing through the air where his head had been moments before. He countered with a thrust, aiming for Kaiser’s chest, but Kaiser twisted away with inhuman speed, his movements as fluid as ever.

  Sabel’s grin faltered as he barely dodged a follow-up strike, the blade grazing his shoulder and drawing a thin line of blood. He jumped back, distancing himself from Kaiser, but Kaiser pursued. In a split second, he closed the distance, his blade dropping in a devastating overhead blow.

  Sabel lifted his weapon to block, but he was flung across the room by the force of the blow. With a loud bang, he was thrown into the wall, causing the stone to collapse around him. Dust and debris rained down as he slumped to the floor, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

  Sabel wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and muttered, "And stronger too." He forced himself to stand, studying Kaiser with narrowed ruby eyes. “You’re full of surprises tonight.”

  Kaiser didn’t give him a moment to recover. He was already moving again, his blade a streak of silver as he lunged forward. Sabel barely managed to dodge, the tip of the sword piercing the wall where he had stood moments before. The stone shattered, cracks spreading like spiderwebs as Kaiser yanked the blade free in an instant.

  Sabel darted away, his movements fleeting but no longer fluid. His grin was strained as he circled around Kaiser, sweat trickling from his brow. "You're a monster," he said in a breathless, low voice. “But monsters don’t win wars, Kaiser. Men do, men like me.”

  Kaiser took a single step forward, his blade shining in the moonlight. He said in a toneless voice with only bore purpose, "We'll see about that."

  Almost like a phantom, Kaiser traced a path in the air with his hair trailing behind him. He moved too fast for people to understand. One moment he was several meters away, in the next he was next to Sabel.

  Sabel, however, was not at all alarmed by all that speed, strength, or might; on the contrary, he was grinning.

  “Predictable,” Sabel muttered as his gaze sharpened.

  With a fluid motion, Sabel twisted his body to the side, the edge of Kaiser’s blade missing him by a hair’s breath. The momentum of the strike carried Kaiser forward, leaving him momentarily exposed, and Sabel waited for exactly that moment.

  In the heartbeat Kaiser was off balance, Sabel slipped behind him, the rusted blade flashing as it plunged toward his back, its jagged edge hunting for his heart. As Kaiser realized what was happening, his eyes widened, but it was too late to avoid it.

  With a sickening crunch, the blade sliced through clothing, bone, and flesh. For a brief moment, time seemed to stop as Kaiser's breath caught in his throat and his body froze as the cold metal sank deeply into him. Sabel’s crimson eyes met Kaiser’s, making his lips turn into a bitter smile.

  “I told you,” Sabel said. “Speed and strength aren’t enough. Not against me.”

  “Why?” Kaiser demanded, his voice raw with pain and fury as he fell to his knees from the recent strike. “Why do you bring death to so many people? Sabel, what reason could possibly justify this?”

  Sabel tilted his head, his eyes glinting with amusement. “What need has death for reason? Does the wolf justify the lamb’s suffering? Do the stars explain why they watch? No, my friend. Things are as they are. And I am as I have always been.”

  "Then let me be the one to break that cycle," Kaiser said, voice low but unyielding. "If the stars are blind, let me tear open the sky. If the wolf does not mourn, let me teach it sorrow. There must be a reason for monsters like you to exist… and if there is none—" He got up and lifted his sword, "Then I will carve one myself."

  Kaiser's body shivered as the rust from the wound was repelled by his regeneration. His body was attempting to mend itself back together, the flesh surrounding the stab wound starting to knit itself back together, but the battle was a losing one. The rust was more rapid and insidious. Like a poison, it seeped into his veins, transforming his skin into corroded metal and his blood into iron.

  Kaiser raised his blade with a growl of defiance, his hands shaking like a leaf in the wind, but his gaze filled with determination. The edge of the sword sliced through his own torso with surgical precision as he swung it in a desperate arc, and even though the cut was clean and separated the rusted flesh from the rest of his body, it was simply not enough. The corruption had already penetrated his bloodstream and spread like wildfire trough his whole body. As the rust ate away at him from the inside out, his legs gave way and he dropped to one knee, his sword slipping from his grasp.

  Sabel's ruby eyes looked on with a mixture of triumph and something that could have been mistaken for sadness. "Pitiful," he uttered in a low, husky voice reminiscent of a predator's growl. “Even now, you're still fighting. You're still holding fast to those oaths. But Kaiser, look at you. You are nothing more than a shell. A remnant of a man who failed to fulfill any of his commitments.”

  Kaiser's body tensed, the rust hardening his limbs, but his head jerked up, his eyes burning with defiance. “You’re wrong,” he rasped, his voice strained but fierce. “I kept my promises. To her. To them. To myself. And I’ll keep them until my last breath.”

  Sabel’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Your last breath is coming sooner than you think,” he said, stepping closer, Kaiser's blood trickling from the sharp edge of his rusted blade, “Don't worry, though. I'll see to it that nothing remains of you to regenerate from.”

  Kaiser attempted to stand up, but his legs refused to cooperate. The rust had spread too far, turning his body into a statue of corroded metal. He could feel it creeping up his arms, his chest, his neck, the cold, unyielding grip of Sabel’s curse, forcing his sword to slip from his hand, the blade clattering to the floor as his fingers stiffened and locked in place.

  Sabel stood over him, his red eyes narrowing as he raised his blade. “Goodbye, Kaiser,” he said, his voice low and final. “You were always too stubborn for your own good.”

  The first blow was delivered with savage precision, sending pieces of corroded metal flying as the rusted blade pierced Kaiser's chest once again. Kaiser's jaw tightened against the pain as his body jerked, but he remained silent.

  Sabel continued.

  He struck again and again, each blow driving deeper, each one carving away another piece of the man who had once been his brother.

  By the time Sabel stepped back, Kaiser’s body was gone, replaced by a grotesque statue of rust and rot. All that remained was his head, perched atop the twisted mass of corroded metal, his eyes still open, still burning with defiance.

  With a low, resentful voice, Sabel said, “You could have walked away,” He continued, “You could have lived out your days in in peace. But no. You had to play the hero, you had to keep your oaths. And now…” He pointed to Kaiser's body, which was now a hideous mixture of twisted steel and rusted flesh. "You will now die a fool's death."

  Kaiser’s crimson eyes glared up at him, defiance burning even as the rust crept closer to his face, only a rough, shallow gasp coming out of his mouth as he attempted to speak. Sabel squatted and leaned close, his red eyes blazing with rage. "Any words of parting, Oathkeeper?"

  Kaiser's face stiffened under the rust's corrosive touch, and his defiance appeared to falter for a moment as it reached his jaw. Suddenly, though, something changed. His eyes, which had once been crimson and full of life and defiance, turned a bottomless black, devoid of any human recognition or feeling.

  A cold, otherworldly presence filled the air, and a voice—soft, commanding, and distinctly female—spoke a single word.

  "Origin."

  The word resonated through the ruins like a death knell, quiet but infinite, its weight pressing against the very fabric of reality. Sabel's smug face faltered, his self-assured exterior dissolving into something much rarer: unadulterated horror. His weapon slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground as he staggered backward. His voice trembled as he stammered, "No… What—what have you done?"

  The word seemed to have an effect on the world itself. The clouds disappeared as if engulfed by a void as the sky grew darker. Above, the stars moved bizarrely, reorganizing into one horrifying constellation: a massive, unblinking eye that gazed down upon the world with cold, unyielding judgment.

  A beam of light descended from the heaves, weaving its way into Kaiser’s outstretched, rusted hand. It solidified into a weapon unlike anything mortal eyes had ever seen—a blade of pure starlight, humming with an energy that was not of this world. It wasn’t just a sword; it was a force, an extension of a realm beyond human comprehension. Its shape flickered and pulsed, as though reality itself struggled to comprehend its existence.

  As soon as the weapon touched Kaisers hand, the rust instantly began to peel off of him, but he still wasn’t himself, his eyes still as black as the midnight sky.

  Sabel dropped to his knees, his lips quivering as he stared at the figure before him. This wasn’t Kaiser—not the man he had taunted and fought for years. This was something else entirely. “No… no, you can’t possibly understand what you’ve done!” he cried, his voice rising in desperation. “You’ve killed everyone! Can’t you see that? Can’t you hear me Kaiser?!”

  However, the figure remained silent. Unseeing and unfeeling, its black, empty eyes gazed past Sabel. Reality itself moaned under the strain as the air surrounding Kaiser's body started to crack and twist. An intolerable white light glowed from the jagged lines of cracks that splintered across the ground and sky like lightning.

  Sabel clutched his head, his screams drowned out by the deafening roar of the universe tearing itself apart. “YOU FOOL!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the chaos. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”

  And then, the world shattered.