The Curse of Vergra
Vergra's voice was rough with time, yet his words carried the weight of old memories.
"Henry, my nephew… it's been so long."
The younger man stiffened, his golden eyes cold as they met his uncle's.
"I no longer go by that name," he said, his voice even but edged with something unspoken. "My name is Krisian now."
Vergra exhaled, his weathered face softening with something that almost resembled regret. "You've grown." He took a step closer, hesitant, as if reaching for something long lost. "I've missed you."
Krisian's jaw tightened. The shadows around him flickered, responding to the storm beneath his surface.
"You cursed me at the age of three," he said, his voice quiet but cutting. "All because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." His gaze turned sharp, burning with barely restrained fury. "And now you dare to say you missed me?"
Vergra flinched, though he quickly masked it with a sigh. "You don't understand—"
"I understand enough," Krisian interrupted, his tone laced with finality. "I understand that the past can't be undone. But I also understand that some wounds don't heal."
The room seemed to grow colder, the weight of unspoken history pressing between them. In the silence, Vergra searched Krisian's face, looking for the boy he once knew.
But that boy was gone.
Only Krisian remained. And he had no intention of looking back.
Krisian's eyes gleamed as he took another step forward. "And for the curse you placed upon me, I will return the favor. But not just because of that. No—because of your arrogance."
A wicked smirk curled his lips.
"I will give you something you want, Uncle."
Vergra's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "And what would that be?"
Krisian's expression darkened. "You will hear the voice of the Celestial rulers, and they will tell you what you have long forgotten."
Vergra scoffed. "You know you cannot. In history, only one person has ever had a direct line to the Celestial Realm, and he is long dead."
Krisian's smirk widened. "Then allow me to correct your history, Uncle."
A deep hum resonated through the air as both light and dark runes burst into existence around Krisian's body, swirling like twin forces of fate. The very sky seemed to respond, cracking with golden lightning and shadows twisting unnaturally.
Vergra's confident smirk faltered as an unseen force rooted him to the spot. His body trembled involuntarily as the air turned dense, thick with celestial energy.
A booming voice—ancient, ethereal, and filled with absolute authority—descended from the heavens.
"Vergra Vermoss. You have committed the forbidden."
The voice echoed across the city, shaking the ground itself.
"You cursed the Celestial. You betrayed the Lost Ones. And for your crimes, you will be bound for eternity."
Vergra's breath hitched. "No… NO! I will not be bound!"
But the decree had already been spoken.
The celestial runes flared brighter, their golden radiance branding his skin as chains of divine and abyssal power wrapped around him. He fell to his hands and knees, unable to resist as the words of judgment continued.
"From this moment, you are cursed to serve. You will eat as a dog eats from his master's hand. You will only speak when commanded. You are no longer a Demon Lord—you are a slave."
The final words struck with the force of the heavens themselves.
Vergra let out a guttural scream as the runes seared into his very soul, sealing his fate. His body convulsed, his once-mighty form shrinking under the weight of his punishment.
And just like that, the voice faded.
The world fell silent.
The proud Demon Lord, once feared across realms, knelt before Krisian—his body shivering, his fangs bared in silent rage.
Krisian looked down at him, a slow, cruel smile forming on his lips.
"You are my servant." He let the words settle, savoring the moment. Then, his golden eyes glowed brighter. "No… my slave."
Vergra's body tensed, but he could not resist. The curse prevented defiance.
"And you will do as I say."
Krisian turned his gaze to the others—Zak, Alpha, and Michael—his expression unreadable.
"Zak. Alpha. Michael." His voice carried across the silent ruins of Konowa. "I want you to come back where you belong—by my side."
Michael smirked, stepping forward first. "You already know my answer."
Zak hesitated, his crimson eyes calculating. After a long silence, he exhaled. "Fine. But I follow my own path."
Krisian smirked. "Good. That's what I expected from you."
All eyes then fell on Alpha.
She trembled slightly, her mind warring with itself. This man—this Demon Lord—had called her his daughter. This man had shackled her entire life in pain.
And yet…
Her eyes met Krisian's.
"If I follow you… I need answers."
Krisian gave a satisfied nod. "Then follow me, Alpha. And I will give them to you."
She swallowed hard, then stepped forward.
The Onyx Court had returned.
A Kingdom to Rebuild
Krisian turned his golden gaze toward the broken Monarch of Konowa, still kneeling in shock. The so-called ruler of this cursed land now looked utterly insignificant.
"You."
The Monarch flinched at the single word.
"You will fix this village. You will build it anew. And when it is complete, this will be the stronghold of the Onyx Court."
The Monarch's mouth opened, as if to protest.
Krisian lifted his hand.
A rune flared across the Monarch's chest, and he choked on his words, his body writhing in pain.
"I did not ask for hesitation. I gave an order."
The Monarch gasped, nodding frantically. "Yes—yes, my lord!"
Krisian lowered his hand, satisfaction flickering across his face.
He turned back to his warriors, his golden gaze burning with ambition.
"The world will soon know the return of the Onyx Court," he declared.
A slow, wicked smirk formed on his lips.
"And when it does… they will kneel."
The Rise of the Onyx Court
The air in Konowa was thick with the weight of change. The villagers—once beaten, starved, and enslaved—stood frozen in shock. They had seen their so-called rulers kneel, watched as the feared Demon Lord Vergra was shackled by divine decree.
But most of all, they had witnessed something unprecedented: the rise of a new power.
Krisian stood at the heart of it all, his golden eyes glowing under the eerie blue torches of the ruined city. He turned, letting his gaze sweep over the gathered people—slaves, nobles, warriors alike.
"Listen well."
His voice carried across the silent courtyard, cutting through the fear, the uncertainty, the disbelief.
"The Onyx Court was destroyed once before—betrayed, erased from history. But today, that changes."
His words sent a ripple through the crowd, fear clashing with curiosity.
"This kingdom—Konowa—will no longer be a wasteland of broken souls. It will be rebuilt. It will rise as the stronghold of the Onyx Court."
The Monarch of Konowa still knelt before him, sweat beading down his face. "B-but my lord, we—"
Krisian's golden eyes flickered dangerously. With a mere gesture, the runes on the Monarch's chest burned brighter, sending a sharp, searing pain through his body. The man gasped, slamming his forehead to the ground.
"You do not speak unless I allow it." Krisian's voice was ice. "You will build. You will work. And when this city stands tall again, it will be the seat of power for the Onyx Court."
The Monarch trembled, nodding frantically. "Yes—yes, my lord!"
Zak watched the exchange, arms crossed. "You've thought this through."
Krisian smirked. "Of course." He turned toward his warriors. "Michael, your mission is to bring the remaining lost warriors of the Onyx Court. If they resist, make them see reason."
Michael grinned. "With pleasure." With a flick of his cloak, he disappeared into the shadows.
Krisian's gaze shifted to Alpha and Zak.
"Zak, you will oversee the restructuring of Konowa. The villagers, the builders, the workers—ensure the process moves quickly."
Zak raised an eyebrow. "And if they refuse?"
Krisian's smile was cold. "Then remind them why they should obey."
Zak's lips curled into something between a smirk and a scoff. "Understood."
Finally, Krisian turned to Alpha.
"You are still filled with questions. Stay close, and I will give you answers."
Alpha hesitated, her crimson eyes searching his face. "And if I don't like those answers?"
Krisian tilted his head slightly. "Then we'll see what you choose to do about it."
A long silence passed before she finally nodded. "Fine."
Krisian exhaled, turning his attention to the city once more.
The Onyx Court was taking shape.
The world just didn't know it yet.
The fires of Konowa burned brighter that night, illuminating the ruined city with an eerie glow. The villagers—many of them former slaves—gathered in the main square, their eyes filled with uncertainty.
Some still clutched the broken chains of their past. Some held their children close, as if expecting another ruler to bring more suffering.
But Krisian was not like the rulers before.
He stepped forward onto the raised platform, his golden eyes piercing through the crowd. The torches flickered as if responding to his presence.
He raised his hand, and silence fell.
Then, he spoke.
"For years, you have been slaves."
His voice was steady, powerful. Each word struck the crowd like a hammer against steel.
"You have been treated as nothing more than cattle, forced to bow before those unworthy of ruling. You have been beaten, broken, and starved. And for what? To survive?"
A murmur rippled through the crowd, the pain of their past still fresh in their minds.
Krisian's gaze hardened. "Survival is not enough."
A hush fell over the square.
"You have lived connected to demons, believing their rule was the only way to live. But I tell you this now—your chains are gone. Your suffering ends today."
Gasps spread through the villagers. Some clutched their arms, as if not believing they were truly free. Others looked to the nobles, whose faces were pale with fear.
Krisian continued.
"In my kingdom, slavery will not be tolerated. No man or woman will live as property. You will be free. But know this—freedom is not given without responsibility. You will work. You will earn your silver. You will provide for your families. And you will build something greater than what was taken from you."
Hope began to stir in the eyes of the people.
"You will no longer live under the mercy of cruelty. But you will not live in idleness, either. If you wish to eat, you must work. If you wish to grow, you must strive. And if you wish to stand beside me, then you must prove yourselves worthy."
He let those words sink in before his golden gaze swept toward the remaining nobles of Konowa.
His voice darkened.
"And as for the nobles—those of you who still cling to the ways of corruption, who believe yourselves untouchable…"
A cruel smile touched his lips.
"Know that my hand will crush those who defy justice. Those who attempt to bring suffering upon this land will face prosecution. And I will personally see to it that none who stand against this kingdom live to regret it."
The nobles recoiled in fear. The villagers, however, began to stir.
It started with one voice. A single cry.
"Long live Krisian!"
Then another.
"Long live the Onyx Court!"
And then—
The entire square erupted into shouts of loyalty.
"Long live Krisian!""Long live our king!""Long live the Onyx Court!"
Krisian stood among the cries, letting the echoes of their voices fill the night.
A slow smirk pulled at his lips.
This was only the beginning.
The Onyx Court had risen.
And soon, the world would bow.
The echoes of the villagers' cheers still lingered in the air when Krisian turned away from the square, his golden eyes glowing with unreadable thoughts. The night stretched on, the ruins of Konowa standing as both a graveyard of the past and the foundation of a new era.
In the shadows near the old palace steps, Michael stood waiting. His arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on Krisian as he approached.
Krisian didn't waste time.
"Your mission is to bring Alpha and Zak to me in Vordimoth safely."
Michael raised an eyebrow. "Safely? Not exactly the usual method of recruitment for the Onyx Court," he mused, though his tone remained respectful.
Krisian's smirk was faint but knowing. "They need answers." His voice held something deeper—something even Michael couldn't quite place.
Michael frowned slightly. "And why can't you just take them now?"
Krisian exhaled, his gaze shifting toward the darkened horizon. "Because what you see now… is not truly me."
Michael stiffened. "What?"
Krisian's golden eyes flashed. "This is merely a crown of me—a fragment of my being. Right now, my true self could not come here because the Selemon of the Hunt is near. And I must prepare."
Michael narrowed his eyes. "The Selemon of the Hunt… The ancient demon ritual?"
Krisian nodded, his expression turning grim. "Yes. And as you might have guessed, my brothers are planning something. Something that will undoubtedly surprise me in a way that will make me… feel good in the worst possible way."
Michael smirked slightly. "Ah. Family reunions."
Krisian chuckled darkly. "Exactly." Then, his expression hardened once more. "As I prepare for what's coming, I want you to begin your journey to Juvenera—the kingdom of Vordimoth, my father's domain. I am already on my way there."
Michael's gaze flickered with intrigue. "And what will I find along the way?"
Krisian's smirk returned, sharper this time. "Perfani Salvador."
Michael blinked. "Perfani… the next Onyx Court descendant?"
"Yes. And recruiting her should be easy. She is with her mother—nothing more. But make no mistake, Michael, she is important. Do not fail."
Michael nodded, his grin widening. "I never do."
Krisian watched him for a moment before turning away. "Then go. Bring them all to me. We don't have much time."
Michael gave a mocking bow before vanishing into the night.
The journey had begun.
Far from Konowa, in the heart of the grand kingdom of Juvenera, the halls of Vordimoth Castle were filled with a suffocating tension. The air crackled with power as Krisian's brothers sat in a circle—warriors, sorcerers, and demons alike.
They had gathered for one reason.
Krisian was coming home.
And they were preparing for his arrival.
A low chuckle echoed through the chamber, filled with anticipation and something darker.
The game was about to begin.