The sound of bells echoed through the royal palace. Nobles dressed in their finest attire gathered to celebrate the tenth anniversary of King Adrian's coronation. No one knew this would be the last peaceful night they'd ever know.
Elena stood atop the highest balcony, clad in black. Her long hair danced in the cold wind, and her eyes—void of warmth—gazed upon the throne that once belonged to her father.
"Ten years I was forgotten... but I never forgot any of you."
An explosion thundered across the courtyard, flames erupting in a violent blaze. Screams filled the air, mingling with the inferno. Amid the chaos, Elena's voice echoed through the event's speakers.
"Remember this… I will burn heaven to ashes—and drag you all to hell with me!"
Her figure vanished into the smoke, leaving behind only a name that would once again shake the entire kingdom
Chaos erupted across the palace grounds. Guards scrambled frantically to protect the royals, but the flames spread too quickly to control—everything seemed to have been planned in advance.
Screams of terror and cries of pain filled the air as people trampled each other in their desperate bid to escape. Blood mixed with spilled red wine, staining the marble floors.
What was once a grand celebration had turned into hell in an instant.
In the middle of the chaos, King Adrian stood frozen, as if his feet were nailed to the ground.
The name "Elena"—a name that should have been forgotten, a name buried under ten years of lies—now echoed louder than the explosion itself.
"She should be dead…" he murmured softly, his voice trembling slightly.
Queen Marienne turned to him, her eyes wide in shock. She clutched her chest tightly. "She knows… Adrian, she knows everything!"
Far beyond the palace walls, amidst the flames and black smoke, Elena stood silent in the shadows, her eyes emotionless as they gazed upon the burning city.
But inside her, there was no satisfaction.
Only silence.
And rage.
"This is just the beginning…" she whispered.
From the shadows behind her, a cloaked figure stepped forward. "What should we do next, my lady?"
Elena turned slowly, her voice as cold as steel.
"Wake the dead, and take our throne back."
Elena stepped out from the shadows, her figure once a mere ghost in the memories of people, now returned to life and more real than ever.
Her tall, slender form was draped in a long black cloak as she moved forward—calm in appearance, but with a raging fire of vengeance burning within her.
The sound of her footsteps echoed softly across the ground, now littered with the debris from the explosion.
"They won't let us be…" The voice of the cloaked man spoke softly but firmly.
Elena stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. Her eyes were cold as ice, her posture still and composed, but her voice carried a sharp edge.
"If they harm us, we will make them remember… No one will escape the consequences of what they did to our family."
The cloaked man nodded, his tone filled with respect. "They will pay for everything they've done."
Elena turned her gaze back to the burning city. The flames from tonight's fire had not yet faded, and they were merely the signal of what was yet to come.
"Tonight, we open war against the royal family... but what will truly terrify them isn't the flames we've set. It's knowing we're still alive... and that we will destroy everything they hold dear."
The night sky was pitch black. The sound of thunder and the ominous flashes of lightning made the image of the burning city appear even more haunting than a normal night.
The only sounds that could be heard were the howling wind and the quiet steps of someone walking forward with purpose.
"My lady…" The cloaked man asked cautiously. "What should we do about those who have escaped?"
Elena stopped and turned her gaze toward the darkened sky. Her eyes carried determination, and her voice was steady when she spoke.
"They won't have a place to hide… If they think we're dead, they are sorely mistaken."
The wind blew, making her cloak flutter, but her cold, unmoving face remained untouched by the chaos outside.
She continued walking down the silent street, leaving a trail of destruction behind her.
"We won't stop until the royal family feels the pain we endured… They must pay the price."
The voice of the cloaked man echoed again, firm with resolve. "And where shall we begin?"
Elena stopped once more and turned to look at him, her eyes gleaming with the fire of determination.
"From the palace… The place where the betrayal began."
The royal palace had now become a cursed place. The scent of smoke still lingered in the air. The soft sobs of the survivors echoed from the shadows.
Some nobles lay severely wounded, while others never even had the chance to utter their last words.
King Adrian sat on his throne with a darkened expression, his body trembling slightly from the swirl of anger and fear.
The voice of his advisor whispered beside him, "Your Majesty… they've begun to whisper the word rebellion."
Adrian clenched his jaw tightly. He had once believed Elena was dead. For ten years, there had been no trace, no news, no body—only silence.
And now, she had returned—with fire, and with a vow to "burn heaven to ashes."
"Call an emergency council meeting… We will not let that woman bring down this royal bloodline."
His voice was sharp, though his heart still trembled.
Meanwhile, in another part of the city…
Elena stepped into a hidden underground chamber filled with maps, journals, and old photographs of nobles.
She placed her hand on an old wooden table, her fingernail lightly dragging across the surface with a quiet scratch.
"It's time they learned… that the 'shadow' they once trampled is now rising to crush them instead."
Inside the hidden underground chamber, candlelight flickered with every gust of cold wind slipping through the cracks. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the stairwell behind her. Elena turned sharply, her eyes as sharp as a hawk's.
"You're three minutes late," she said coldly.
The man dressed in black dropped to one knee immediately. "Forgive me, my lady. I had to make sure no one was following."
Elena gave a slight nod before tossing a piece of parchment at his feet. It bore the image of an old nobleman.
"Next target—Duke Henrik. He poisoned my father and framed my mother, which led to her execution."
The man nodded without a question, without hesitation.
Elena turned back to the large map mounted on the wall. Her face remained calm, but in her eyes, a fire of vengeance burned undying.
"This game has just begun… and I will be the one to bring down the final curtain—with my own hands."
Elena picked up a necklace from an old wooden box. The pendant was nothing more than a charred piece of metal, yet she gazed at it as if it were the most precious treasure.
"This... was the last thing my mother gave me before they dragged her away right in front of me."
Her voice trembled slightly, but her eyes remained steely. The pain was locked deep beneath her cold, unyielding facade.
The man in black looked at her with silent sympathy, but dared not speak. He knew—no words of comfort meant anything to Elena now.
She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her skin, drawing blood.
"They burned my family alive… torched my home to the ground… and then cast my name into history as a monster."
She slowly raised her head.
"So be it… I'll become the monster they painted me to be."
The candle shadows flickered with a sudden gust of wind, as if something ancient and furious had just awakened within her.
Elena gazed at her reflection in the shattered mirror on the wall. The room, which once was her home, was now nothing but the ruins of the past. Silence hung heavily in the air, as if everything was slipping away into the fog of the darkness she called "loss."
"If I don't do this… who will?" Elena's voice came through her clenched teeth, laced with the pain that had been buried deep inside her until it could no longer be contained.
She turned to look at the man in black. He stood there, silent, without uttering a word. His calm demeanor gave the impression that he was unaware of the tremors shaking the woman before him.
Elena took a deep breath and spoke in a low, deadly tone. "They don't deserve to live... What they did to me and my family... What they did to us... I will make them taste the agony."
She stepped toward the old wooden bed, unstrapped her bag, and threw it to the floor with a force that made the room shudder. The impact echoed through the silence, as her eyes gleamed coldly, while her hands reached inside and pulled out a knife. The blade glinted under the dim light, trembling slightly in her grip.
"It's time for me to begin my revenge... They will know just how ruthless the 'demon' they created truly is."
And just like that, the darkness consumed her as Elena walked out, leaving behind the flickering candlelight that soon snuffed out completely. All that remained was the scent of vengeance, thick in the air, clinging to every corner of the room.
Elena closed her eyes tightly, her body still as she lay in the dark room. But within her mind, memories from a nightmare surfaced—memories that had haunted her for years, like images from the past she kept hidden deep inside.
She saw herself, a young queen in shimmering gold robes, sitting on her high throne. Torches on the walls flickered, casting light that danced in the vast hall. Her father and mother stood by her side, a sense of unity and warmth filled the room. A young man in armor stood at the edge of the hall, gazing out the window, where the breeze from the open window swirled through the chamber.
Her father's laughter echoed in her ears, and she smiled, feeling the warmth of a family she once had.
But then... the sound of the door being violently struck broke the silence. Everything jolted awake.
Her gaze shifted toward the door, now splintered open. What she saw was a figure clad in black armor, mounted on a horse, riding into the room. The world was suddenly shrouded in thick fog and darkness, consuming the light from the torches.
"They're here!" her mother's voice echoed in the dream. The young girl in the vision ran toward her parents, her heart pounding in her chest as fear slowly crept in.
The entire scene turned into a nightmare, as if it were a memory from long ago, now relived through this dream. Sounds of battle broke out from outside the throne room, weapons clashing violently, shaking the very ground beneath them.
Her father was dragged away, shouting for them to stop, but no one listened. Darkness swiftly consumed everything before her, and the image of her father faded into the shadows.
"Mother!" the young girl cried out in the dream, her small hands reaching desperately toward her mother, who was engulfed in flames. Everything blurred, and she could no longer hold onto the images as they faded into the smoke.
And just like that... the darkness swallowed her whole.
When Elena woke from the dream, the sharp pain still lingered, as if she had lived through it all over again. Her eyes were cold and fierce as she stared at the dark room around her.
The anger that had been buried deep inside her never faded. She could still hear the haunting echoes of the curse in her mind—an unspoken vow that... she would make them pay for what they did to her family.
She would not rest until every last one of them paid for what they took from her.
Elena rose from her bed, her body still trembling from the nightmare. Her heart raced, the weight of the suffocating pain from the dream still lingering. She could still see the images of her parents being ripped away from her, as if she had no power to stop it.
She stood in the dark room, the window slightly open, allowing the pale light of the moon to filter through. The coolness of the night air helped to awaken her senses, though the heaviness in her chest remained. She was dressed in a long black gown, once adorned with the emblem of the royal family. Now, it carried only the shadow of that lost legacy.
She turned to face the large mirror, staring at her own reflection. The figure staring back was that of a strong woman—her eyes fierce, an undeniable authority radiating from within, as if she had never known fear.
"What did they think they could do to my family... to my kingdom?" Elena muttered to herself. The peace she once knew was long gone, and she understood that now.
She stepped out of the room, her movements swift and purposeful, like a lioness provoked. Her eyes scanned the grand hall, its walls lined with old portraits of the royal family, each one now shrouded in darkness. The silence was deafening, the shadows in the palace whispering the stories of a once-great dynasty that had been torn apart.
Each step she took was firm, though the fire of vengeance burned within her, urging her onward.
The army that once pledged allegiance to her family had turned their backs. They had destroyed everything, and now, all that remained was her, standing alone amidst the ruins of her kingdom.
"I will make them understand..." she whispered under her breath, "The pain they caused my parents will never be forgotten."
Her gaze remained forward, unwavering. She would not allow herself to falter, not again.
At last, Elena stopped in front of a sealed door. This room had once been the place where the most vital royal documents were kept—orders and plans that could be the key to helping her achieve her revenge.
Without hesitation, she reached out and opened it.
The old wooden door creaked open as Elena stepped into the dark room. The chill in the air helped snap her to attention, though the heavy weight of the past still clung to her. She stood amidst the shadows, the silence thick, with only the sound of her footsteps breaking it. Her movements were deliberate, confident.
The room smelled of dust and age, the corners covered in forgotten relics and scrolls. It felt like time had stopped here, leaving only the echoes of the past. But amidst the clutter, there was something that had always been of importance—maps and royal documents that had once shaped the kingdom's fate, now gathered dust.
Her fingers brushed the shelves, collecting information that might aid her in her quest for revenge. Her eyes scanned the room, as if she could feel the presence of the ancestors who had once walked these halls, their spirits still lingering, perhaps sharing her thirst for retribution.
In the center of the room, a large wooden desk stood, papers scattered across it—some untouched for years. Her hand hovered above them, but she knew exactly what she was after. Beneath a pile of books, she found it: a single map, aged and worn, its edges frayed with time. She carefully pulled it free and unfurled it on the desk.
It was a map of the kingdom, but not just any map. This one was marked in places most dared not venture—hidden fortresses, secret passages, and the locations of enemies who had once been allies. She traced her fingers over the red Xs scattered across the map. These were the places where the traitors had once made their plans, where they had conspired against her family.
"This is where it all begins," Elena muttered softly. Her mind was set, her resolve unwavering. She would not wait any longer. The time for revenge had arrived.
Elena turned quickly, her steps sure, her gaze unflinching. She would visit each of these marked locations. She would tear down the foundations of those who had destroyed her family, piece by piece. She would make them suffer as she had.
"Let them come," she whispered to the empty room. "They will soon learn that the queen they thought was dead is very much alive... and I'm coming for them."
She folded the map carefully, every detail of her new plan burned into her mind. There would be no mercy, no second chances. This was her kingdom—her legacy—and she would reclaim it, no matter the cost.
Elena's path ahead was dark and filled with danger, but she walked it with purpose. The fire of vengeance burned within her, and she would stop at nothing until every last one of them paid for their sins.
Elena's footsteps echoed through the stone corridor. Her figure moved silently beneath a flowing black cloak that billowed in the cold wind. The distant rumble from outside signaled an approaching storm... or perhaps it was the storm raging inside her that had never truly ceased since that day.
Suddenly—
A child's scream rang in her head.
"Mother! Don't take her! Please…!"
The world spun violently. Elena dropped to the ground, gasping for breath, her hands clutching her head, eyes wide in terror.
She dreamed again...
But it wasn't just a dream.
It came with the scent of smoke, the stench of blood, and the screams of the family she loved.
—Her mother being dragged from their home by soldiers as seven-year-old Elena cried in the corner.
—Her father trying to fight back, only to be stabbed in front of her.
—The cruel laughter of someone… a voice she could never forget.
The little girl in the dream looked up—and locked eyes with one of the invaders.
The wicked smile on his face had never left her mind, even after all these years.
She remembered everything. Every second of that hell.
Elena's breathing slowly steadied as she pushed herself up, though her heart still pounded wildly.
"I haven't forgotten…" she whispered, her voice low but laced with fire.
"And I will never forgive."
She rose to her full height. Though her body still trembled from the dream, Elena's eyes remained still—sharp as a blade.
Footsteps echoed, approaching.
"You dreamed again, didn't you?"
A tall man in leather armor stood nearby. His voice was low and steady, not cold—but guarded. His eyes, though hardened by countless battles, held a flicker of concern for her.
Elena didn't answer. She glanced at him for only a second before turning her face away.
"I told you… holding onto that kind of rage will eat you alive," he said, stepping slowly closer.
"And I told you," Elena replied, her voice like ice,
"I'll let it devour me—until every last drop of their blood is spilled."
The man's gaze hardened slightly. He knew trying to extinguish the fire in her heart was pointless.
She walked past him, calm, unwavering, not even sparing him a second glance.
"Ready the horses. We move tonight."
Her voice was as cold and final as a declaration of war.
He hesitated only for a moment before giving a silent nod. He knew...
His queen had returned—
And this time, she would spare no one.
The pounding of hooves echoed against stone, steady and grim. Under a blanket of thick night fog, a bannerless procession of knights rode through the narrow valley—silent, unyielding.
No war cries. No declarations.
Only the glint in their eyes, reflecting the fire that burned within.
Elena led at the front, her gaze locked on the ancient castle ahead—the place that was once home, now overrun by those who slaughtered her family.
"Light the signal," she commanded, her voice quiet—but final.
A flaming arrow soared into the sky, tearing through the fog like a burning promise. It arched and plunged into the enemy's outer camp.
An explosion followed.
Then chaos.
Screams filled the night—not hers—
But from those who once laughed as she begged,
From those who dragged her mother away right before her eyes.
"This land, stained with innocent blood...
will be cleansed by theirs."
She whispered to herself, raising one hand slowly.
The air around her began to ripple.
Something stirred—
Crimson energy spiraled around her arm, flickering like fire…
like vengeance made flesh.
The knights beside her looked on, eyes wide with awe—and fear.
None dared speak.
For the queen who returned from hell no longer carried the power of mere mortals.
The air quivered, thick with ancient rage. A crimson glow swirled around Elena's hands, wrapping her arms like serpents made of flame—except this fire was alive. It wasn't magic learned. It was inherited.
A vow sealed in blood.
"That glow…" a knight behind her whispered in terror. "Bloodbound?"
The earth beneath her cracked—veins of red light stretched outward like the land itself was remembering her pain.
Elena's eyes closed slowly. Her voice, when she spoke, was calm—almost too calm.
"Those who made my blood fall… will drown in their own."
Suddenly, a burst of red exploded from her hands. Behind her, a shadow rose—vaguely shaped like wings, like a beast long buried in myth. A heartbeat later, it vanished into the night mist, leaving behind only fear.
Soldiers dropped without warning. Blood poured from their mouths and eyes before their hearts ever knew what struck them. Panic erupted. Screams. Pleas. Death.
And she stood still in the chaos, a queen reborn from hellfire.
—Flashback—
It was long ago. She had been only a child, her face wet with tears and ash. Her dying mother held her close, whispering a final incantation into Elena's ear.
"Take my blood… and remember. You are not weak. You are wrath."
Her mother's blood dripped onto Elena's skin—warm, sticky, sacred. In that moment, the oath was made. Soul to soul. Blood to blood.
And now… it awakens.
The pounding of a heartbeat echoed like war drums. The air around Elena twisted violently as crimson power surged from the ground—like the breath of a demon awakened after centuries of slumber.
Glowing red veins snaked across the fractured stone beneath her feet. Each step she took carved deep scars into the earth itself—an earth that had once betrayed her.
Ancient incantations slipped from Elena's lips, sharp and hissing.
Then—one enemy closest to her began to twist and convulse violently. With a soundless scream, his body exploded, spraying blood and flesh across the misty night like grotesque crimson petals.
Screams erupted from every direction. One man dropped to his knees, clutching his head, only for his skull to crack open with a sickening snap. Blood poured from his eyes, mouth, and nose before his lifeless body collapsed.
Others tried to flee, but shadows of blood burst from beneath the ground, snatching their legs and yanking them down. The pressure crushed their bodies until fluids and bones erupted outward, leaving nothing but mangled remains.
Elena's knights stood frozen. Their hearts raced, but none dared blink—none dared breathe.
Slowly, Elena opened her eyes—deep crimson pools blazing with fury. She gazed upon the gates of the enemy's castle—the very place that had once been her "home."
In her eyes was not just vengeance. It was judgment—absolute and merciless.
"Remember this… for every drop of blood that falls from me, I will reclaim it a thousandfold."
Heavy footsteps echoed through the blood-soaked mist—steady, deliberate, and filled with authority.
Elena froze. Her blood-red eyes shifted toward the tall figure emerging from the haze.
A man clad in pitch-black armor strode forward. There was no fear in his eyes, no trace of hesitation—only a faint smile curling at the edge of his lips. A smile she remembered all too well.
"I thought I'd have to die before you dared show your face again..."
His voice was icy, but every syllable rang clear and sharp.
"Darien..." Elena whispered his name, her lips trembling slightly.
Darien—her uncle. The elder brother of the late king. The one who should've been her protector... but was the first to drive a blade into her back the day the royal court fell.
"I remember your eyes that day… full of fear. Like a pup that's just been crushed beneath a boot."
He stepped closer, resting his sword casually on his shoulder, unfazed by the corpses strewn across the battlefield.
Elena gave a cold laugh, her crimson gaze igniting with fury.
"I might have been a pup back then... but now I'm the wolf, returned with hellfire in my chest."
Scarlet light surged from the ground once more. The silhouette of dragon-like wings, demonic and vast, unfurled behind her.
Still, Darien smiled.
"If you think your bloodbound power is enough to frighten me… then you're still just a child."
Elena raised her hand slowly.
"I stopped being afraid the day you stepped on my mother's head in front of me…"
Her voice dropped into a whisper, low and cold like a breeze from the depths of hell.
Heavy footsteps echoed from behind the blood mist—steady, smooth, yet filled with power.
Elena froze. Her blood-red eyes shifted toward the large shadow that emerged amidst the stench of blood.
A man in dark armor stepped out from the mist. He showed no fear, no shock in his gaze. Only a faint smile that crept up at the corner of his mouth... a smile Elena recognized well.
"I thought I had to die first for you to show yourself..." His voice was cold, but clear in every syllable.
"Darian..." Elena whispered his name, her lips trembling slightly.
Darian—older brother of the late king, who should have been her uncle... but instead, he was the first to stab her in the back when the royal court fell.
"I miss the look in your eyes back then... full of fear, like a puppy underfoot..." He walked slowly, casually raising his sword over his shoulder, indifferent to the corpses scattered around.
Elena laughed coldly, her blood-red eyes flashing.
"Back then, I may have been a puppy... but now, I am the wolf returning with the fire of hell in my chest."
Red light erupted from the ground once more, the shadow of dragon wings, like a demonic figure, appeared above her back.
Darian still smiled. "If you think the Blood Bond alone will make me fear you, you're still the same little girl."
Elena raised her hand. "I stopped being afraid a long time ago... the day you stepped on my mother's head in front of me..." The last words faded into a whisper, like the wind in hell.
Darian smiled in satisfaction when he saw the flicker of hesitation in Elena's eyes as he moved closer. His shadow haunted her like a demon.
"You must feel it now... what I said is true," he whispered, his voice low, before lifting his sword with a mocking tone.
But suddenly—Elena stood her ground again. Her eyes, once shrouded in the mist of pain, began to glow with a fierce red light, trembling—like a fire rekindling once more.
"You're wrong... Darian," her voice was firm and defiant.
Darian raised an eyebrow, meeting her gaze with cold indifference.
"You think... I fear the truth?" Elena smirked. "Right now, the only thing I fear... is letting you destroy my world any further."
"You're making a mistake... The blood bond won't help you..." Darian sneered.
But before he could finish his sentence—bright red light surged from the ground, exploding with even greater force than before. There was a sharp whoosh as the powerful energy drew in all the surrounding air quickly.
In that instant—a transformation occurred within Elena... The deep pain hidden in her heart turned into an overwhelming power. She was no longer just the bearer of the blood bond—she had discovered a truth she never knew before.
"You speak of fear... But I will not be the wolf that fears the light," Elena said with conviction. Her hand swept down—red light began to form from deep within her body.
Her blood—was not just the blood bond tied within her veins—it had become "blood of vengeance"—it burned so hot that everything around her ignited.
"I will unleash my true power—not just the blood bond, but the power of vengeance that is deeply embedded within me!"
Darian stepped back slightly, surrounded by darkness and light bending in every direction—he realized something was wrong. And it was something he had never expected.
But in that moment—the red light rising from the ground expanded and surrounded everything. Fiery demon wings from a dragon-shaped figure appeared instantly. Elena's vengeance power was unleashed in every molecule of the battlefield.
"I'm not just going to kill you... I'll make you see that this world will pay the price for its betrayal!" Elena roared.
Darian flinched—then had to dodge the relentless energy storm from her. The ground near him exploded into fiery debris, and he was forced to step back several paces to avoid the overwhelming power.
"You'll learn... that my vengeance is stronger than any blood or vow you know!" Elena thundered.
This is the point where Elena's power not only increases but she realizes that "vengeance" is more dangerous than magic or the blood bond itself! And Darian begins to understand that he's facing something far beyond what he ever anticipated...
...The demonic fire pulsing through Elena's shadowed form scorched the earth with every step. Cracks spread beneath her feet, and the air rippled with unstable energy.
Her roar shattered the silence, sending Darien flying backward. Though he barely managed to raise a defensive spell in time, he felt it—this wasn't ordinary blood-bound magic.
"This is… the Curse of Shadows…" he muttered, a flicker of fear breaking into his voice.
Elena advanced slowly, her eyes now pitch black with swirling crimson flames like galaxies in chaos.
"I never wanted to be a monster…" she said softly, "but when the world chose to kill me, I chose to burn it down with me."
A glow gathered in her hand—not the light of hope, but of revenge. And behind her, a colossal wolf's silhouette loomed, its massive form blotting out the sky.
Darien gritted his teeth, summoning barrier after barrier, but each one shattered on impact. Her power tore through his magic like it was nothing.
"You've changed this much…?"
"I didn't change…" she replied coldly. "The world forced me to become this."
Clang!
His magical shield exploded, and Darien was thrown across the field, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. He looked up at her—fear and denial fighting for dominance in his eyes.
"This power… it's not yours…!"
Elena was silent for a moment. Then she reached down, grabbed his collar, and lifted him off the ground. Her eyes gleamed.
"You're right… This is our power."
"Mine—and all the vengeance you left behind."