Prologue

Its been a hundred years since the kingdom of Aselaysia managed to finally gain peace, after winning the last great war. The Aselaysian’s have become the vanguards of the eastern continent, becoming the sole defender that protected the land from the enemies that came from the western lands as their capital Lusha was situated on a canyon that had an interconnecting natural bridge to the eastern land.

And now that the empire was approaching it was up to the present king to make sure that the enemies do not cross that pass.

King Ramada let out a deep breath, clenching his fist on the hilt of his sword as dread began taking over him just by looking at the enemies ahead.

A vast number of black-armored soldiers were marching on the plains below, almost covering the land with their sheer number, it was like a huge shadow was looming over the place as the green fields could no longer be seen.

They carried a vertical red banner with a golden frame on the side and a black dragon on the middle that had its wings spread wide open, two horns protruding from its head.

It was the symbol of the Black Knight, the tyrant conqueror of the western lands who had managed to take down all their enemies, and now, it seems that he has set his eyes on the eastern continent.

Their numbers could be around a hundred thousand or more but it was still unsure as more and more platoons kept coming out of the hillside and would be reaching the castle in about an hour or less.

The king knew they were vastly outnumbered and was now alarmed by their current situation.

“Father, is there no news from our allies?” prince Rakal asks, his voice trembled from the fear of his first battle.

King Ramada understood it all too well, as even he, a veteran of many skirmishes, all of which he had managed to win, was now unsure of their victory in the upcoming battle.

Taking in a long breath to calm himself, he then faces his only son, putting on a wide smile to hide his uncertainty.

“King Ashford’s army will take a week to reach the kingdom and the eastern alliance is still hesitating in joining us,” he says to the boy with a firm and deep tone.

“Are they all stupid to hesitate at this time, do they know what would come of this if we are not able to fend them off,” prince Rakal growled in disbelief, rage started to swell inside of him from the thought of that.

King Ramada’s smile lessened at that point. “They seem confident enough with their own armies hence their hubris, whatever the case we must make sure that we hold off until our reinforcements arrive,” he says sternly before once again facing the front to see how far the enemy armies have marched.

“What happens if we can’t hold them off here,” prince Rakal asks, his face was now covered in a shadow of terror.

“Then our kingdom will fall,” King Ramada states, his face grim as he looked at his son.

There was this pain and emotion that emerged inside of his chest at that moment. He knew what that would mean for their kingdom, he now deeply regretted taking the fifteen-year-old boy to this battle, knowing the possibility of them being defeated. If he had only known earlier, he would never have done so, instead, he would have ordered his son to escape along with his older sisters as the fate of their kingdom rest in the boy’s survival.

A soldier kneeled before them. “Your majesty, the army has stopped,” he informs before standing up.

“What is that?” prince Rakal frowned at several huge wooden contraptions that were being pulled by horses clad in black armor behind the army lines.

It seemed to resemble a carriage covered in metal plating with a metallic dragon figurehead that had its mouth open.

“Look on the horizon!” Another soldier shouted pointing at the hilltop.

It was then that several horsemen appeared, all wore similar black metal armors, much larger than those of the foot soldiers with adoring spikes on their shoulders and red capes. They were racing towards the front in a triangular formation as the foot soldiers gave way to them, letting out cries and cheers for the assaulting group.

One knight stood out among the cavalry as his armor had a dragon face helmet with two huge fins, like horns on the ear side, his cape was pitch black and did not seem to move with the wind.

King Ramada quickly recognized the owner of it, making him move in haste. “Prepare to fire!” he orders to his men unsheathing his sword to raise it upfront.

Archers began lining up on the castle’s rampart, aiming their bows at the upcoming horsemen.

In minutes, arrows began flying into the air towards the charging cavalry, yet the enemy knights raised their shields managing to deflect some of the attacks only hitting a few of them.

Balls of fire then began shooting out of the mouths of the carriage like contraptions, breaking the castle's formation.

Balls of white lights then blasted out of the turrets in retaliation as the first line of the enemy foot soldiers began to charge.

The earth shook from the thunderous roars as stones, bodies, and fire flew high as the exchange between the two armies continued.

It seemed that the two were at equals as king Ramada's citadel kept them safe from the enemy fire and arrows but then a dark figure suddenly appeared from below, seeming to have flown up into the castle walls, its shadow loomed over the king and prince as it quickly descended.

Arrows seemed to be deflected by the being unable to stop its approach. The stone floor trembled, shattering when a dark figure landed in a half knelt position. The black dragon wings spread wide before retracting back into something resembling that of a cape on the armored knight's back. 

For a few moments, no one was able to move from the sheer shock and intimidation of the being, until the knight pulled out his broadsword from his back which prompted the soldiers to move in defense of their king.

With one hand the knight swung his weapon on the soldiers that were quick to charge, cutting all of them in half. Blood splattered on the ground like paint, once again causing the men to falter, seeing the power of the enemy.

The dark knight slowly walked towards king Ramada who was in awe, gaping at the sight of the helmet's eyes that seemed to glow fiery red, along with a black smoke like a light that seemed to seep out of the armor.

Never in his life had he seen such strength and power from an enemy that itself made him trembled in fear.

Though prince Rakal was shaking, a surge of courage suddenly shot inside of him, seeing his father being approached by the dark knight. Without a second thought, he quickly lunges toward the enemy with the tip of his sword directed in front.

“Rakal no!” the king shouted, hands raised as he tried to run towards his son.

It felt like the time had suddenly slowed down as the boy was about to meet his enemy, but before his sword could even reach the dark knight, the prince’s body was sent flying back just from the slight swing of the warrior's hand.

“Rakal!” the king screamed seeing his son fall.

Several of the prince’s royal guards were already pitting themselves against the dark knight. Allowing the king time to run off to his child.

His white armor cracked from the punch that he received, prince Rakal started coughing blood the moment he landed on the floor. He was lost for air just from that one hit, unable to move any longer.

“Son!” king Ramada knelt to hold his boy in his arms.

Tears were starting to form in his eyes seeing the half-dead boy that tried to come to his aid all because he was caught off guard.

Prince Rakal tried to reach for his father but his hands wobbled, coughing out blood as he tried to speak.

“Your majesty!” One of the king's royal guards knelt before them, assisting the king to help the prince sit up.

“Get him out of here, and tell commander Hendall to abandon the capital at once!” King Ramada orders immediately.

It was obvious that they were at a loss, seeing as the enemy soldiers had managed to break through the castle walls.

“But your majesty,” the guard states in disapproval not wanting to leave the king's side.

“Do as I say!” King Ramada shouts.

Pain etched on the guard's face upon hearing the order. “Yes, my king.” but he was unable to challenge the decision anymore, bowing before carrying the wounded prince in his arms.

Seven of the king's ten royal guards had already fallen, two were still standing in front though heavily wounded, swords still raised at the enemy. All the while the dark-clad warrior held one of them in one hand, gripping on the guard's head who was flailing, trying to escape.

With one quick tightening of the dark knight's hold, the guard's helmet gave away, crushing the man’s head in an instant, blood gushed out of it like wine to the floor.

“You truly are a monster,” king Ramada mumbled as he stood a few meters in front of his enemy. He now understood how the said tyrant was able to bring down the entirety of the western kingdom on their knees.

There was no longer any point in holding back anymore as the enemy in front of him was something equal to that of a demon.

Raising his sword, he let out a deep breath before stating, “May the divine light, shine upon us all.” In that moment a sudden radiance engulfed the kings body.

The white sword began glowing, radiating its power all around them. The wind started to gust as the king took a step forward into a stance.

With one move of his feet, king Ramada was instantly dashing towards the dark knight, moving as fast as the wind.

A grin formed on the enemy’s eyes seeing the old man closing in, and without even moving, the dark knight raised the broadsword meeting the king’s. weapon.

A loud thunderous bang echoed through the air as the two weapons collided. A light emerged from the king while a dark ominous energy came out from the knight before the sudden burst of smoke engulfed the whole area that the two were in, coming from the sudden explosion that happened from the clash of the two powers.