Back at the royal castle of Aurethiel, a tense stillness hung over the grand throne room. Shining marble floors reflected the golden glow of golden chandeliers, while banners bearing the symbol of the Holy Beast fluttered gently against high stained-glass windows.
King Aurelus sat on his towering obsidian throne, draped in a crimson and gold royal robe, a crown of gold weighing heavily on his head. His fingers drummed impatiently on the Phoenix-headed armrest while surrounded by his elite knights and trusted advisors. Each and everyone cloaked in silence and serious gazes.
Kneeling before the king, with his forehead pressed against the cold floor, was Kurtan—the kingdom's strongest knight and his most trusted enforcer - until now. But even he could not raise his head now, not after failing the one task that mattered most.
"So," the King said, his voice a low growl, "you mean to tell me Jorthon teleported the newborn prince somewhere... and you managed to kill everyone except the one I truly wanted dead?"
A vein throbbed on the King's temple, and his nose flared wide in fury. The divine blood of the Holy Beast within him pulsed visibly beneath his skin, giving off a faint golden glow. The room vibrated slightly with the pressure of his anger, a reminder that this was no ordinary man.
"I apologize, Your Majesty," Kurtan croaked. "Elese of the Broomland household interfered during the execution. I had no idea Jorthon and Elese were planning an escape while I was busy executing. I was caught off guard and—"
"SILENCE!"
The King's roar thundered through the hall, a concussive blast of sound that cracked one of the stained-glass windows. Even the seasoned elite guards staggered, choking under the crushing weight of his divine aura.
"The birthing chambers were layered in anti-teleportation inscriptions. Do you truly expect me to believe that they simply bypassed them?"
"Your Majesty, I'm aware," Kurtan stammered, still on his knees. "I tried to protect the rune walls. But Jorthon and Elese... they must have sabotaged them while I was eliminating the staff by messing with the inscriptions using their weapons. They had planned this all along, I'm certain of it!"
Kurtan lied smoothly, confident that his subordinates would back his account. In truth, it was his own reckless use of the Shield Roar skill that shattered the defensive runes, giving Jorthon the chance to teleport the prince away.
"If anyone should be punished, it's the Broomland household and Jorthon's kin. They are the traitors, not I—"
SWOOSH.
A sharp glint flashed. A golden sword, no larger than a letter opener, shot from the King's fingertip and slashed clean through Kurtan's right arm. Blood sprayed onto the marble tiles. Kurtan screamed, his voice echoing like a dying beast.
"AAAGH!"
"M-My King! Why?!" he gasped, cradling the bleeding stump. His mind spun from the blood he lost. This man—this god—whom he had served loyally all his life, had turned on him.
"Do you take me for a fool?"
Kurtan's eyes darted around. His knights—his own men—stood motionless, eyes averted. Not one of them stepped forward. Not one dared speak. Obviously someone had spilled the beans to the king.
"You... TRAITORS!" he shouted, trembling with fury.
Before he could rise, the King's personal knights were upon him. They disarmed him, slammed him face-first into the floor, and bound him with enchanted shackles that cut off his access to mana.
"Your Majesty, please!" Kurtan begged. "It was Jorthon! Give me another chance—I'll bring you the prince's head on a silver platter—"
"Take him away," the King commanded coldly not wanting to hear anymore about him. He maybe the strongest knight he had but he can always get another one with the help of his access to the power of the Holy Beast.
Kurtan was dragged out like a sack of meat, leaving a trail of blood in his wake while royal cleaners immediately started cleaning on the bloody mess.
Once the room had settled again, the King turned to one of his cloaked advisors.
"Hammish."
A man in regal, rune-stitched robes stepped forward and bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."
"A new decree. Effective immediately."
The King's voice was low, final.
"I want every newborn child in the whole kingdom executed. From one day to one year. No exceptions - even the nobles."
The silence in the room became suffocating.
Hammish's face paled. "Y-Your Majesty... such a decree... it would bring unrest—rebellion, even. The nobles, the commoners—"
"Hammish," the King interrupted, locking eyes with him. "Look into my eyes."
The advisor obeyed—and immediately felt his knees weaken. Behind the King's glare was an abyss, a monstrous will cloaked in divine rage. He knew that if this man would go on a rampage in the capital, no one would be able to survive his fury. Not even the combined powers of all the nobles. Before his absolute power, their nobility and titles are basically paper planes.
"If a family refuses the command... eliminate them. Every last one. Or do you want me to do it myself?"
Hammish swallowed hard. "I will see to it right away, Your Majesty."
Hammish left the King's side with mixed emotions of fear and confusion. To exectute such decree, it seems that the peace the had been enjoying is bound to end and at the center of it all is a frameless baby peacefully sleeping in a tiny hut far away from the capital.
Far from the glittering halls of Aurethiel, in the remote, forest-fringed village of Windell, a different scene unfolded.
A boy—barely days old—lay swaddled in blankets atop a mosswood table, while an older woman chanted softly over him. Her hair was silvered by age, but her eyes burned with focus.
************************
Name: Marissa
Level: 33
Title: High Enchanter
Class: Mystic
*************************
Sweat dripped down her brow as she tried once again to activate the Divine Frame Appraisal. Runes shimmered around her fingers, yet the results remained blank.
"This child... he's impossible to read," Marissa muttered. "No Divine Frame signature. Nothing. It's like trying to touch fog. Tell me Robertl. Just who's child is this?"
Robert, the knight who had brought the baby, stood nearby, arms crossed trying to remember something.
"I already told you, I do not know. But I do remember Jorthon mentioned something to me weeks ago that the king had ordered his service to appraise the child Merina was birthing. If this child is... then perhaps—"
"Wait," Marissa whispered, her breath hitching. "If it's Merina's child... then this boy is my nephew. My cousin. The King's son?"
She staggered backward.
"Oh gods. The King's child is here? With us?"
They looked at each other, horror dawning at their realization.
"If the King learns we've hidden his son, even unknowingly..."
"Our heads would surely roll tonight," Robert said grimly. "And this entire village - might be razed to the ground."
They fell silent and looked at the child. Despite the innocent cute eyes of Rin, for them it was a little ticking time-bomb.
Marissa glanced at the window.The gentle wind caressed the trees beyond. "Did anyone see you bring him here?"
"I doubt it. I came from the woods. Your cottage is remote. But still... it's only a matter of time someone will find out."
"Why would Jorthon do this?" she asked. "He loved Merina. But this? This is treason."
They both stared at the baby again. Rin lay peacefully, oblivious to the danger.
"What do we do?" Marissa asked, voice shaking.
Robert hesitated. "Lets not jump to conclusion yet. I know my friends. Merina would never betray the King and Jorthon's a brilliant man. He is loyal to his promise. He wouldn't do this lightly. My suggestion is we wait. We hide the child and wait for him to contact us first."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then we decide. But not now."
"You expect me to take care of him?"
"You're his blood relative! Did you forget?"
"He's the third prince! For almight Elkus's sake! This child has the blood of Aurelus. If the King finds out—"
"Are you going to hand him over? Did you forget what kind of King we have? He is Aurelus the Ruthless!"
Marissa clenched her fists. "Yes! If it means saving Windell!"
"Even if Jorthon had a reason?"
"Does it matter? This isn't just about us. Innocent people will die, Robert!"
Robert looked at Rin again. The child gurgled, unaware of the trouble he is causing. In Rin's perspective, the two adults are just simply arguing who would change his diaper as he grows up.
'hey hey! why are you both fighting as if I am such a dangerous bomb?' he thought not knowing how spot on he was.
"Listen to me Marissa, if he grows in a good environment and if by any chance his Divine Frame awakens. Who knows this boy... he might be the only hope this kingdom!"
Marissa turned away, silent and not wanting to entertain more thoughts coming from Robert.
For now, they could only wait—and pray they hadn't just sealed their fates.
Robert, once a soldier of the proud Aurelus Kingdom, now lived a quieter life as a herbalist in the remote village of Windell. He had retired early from the army not because of age or injury—but purpose.
A purpose rooted in his growing passion to master his class: Herbalist. While the class was once highly revered in the kingdom, its significance had waned dramatically over the years. The emergence of a new and extraordinary class—the Life Workers—had slowly erased the need for men like him.
The Life Workers is a class exclusively women who possessed miraculous healing capabilities. They could mend shattered bones, cure diseases, and close gaping wounds within seconds. Their divine gift had only one limitation: they could not heal the dead nor undo advanced curses or high-tier poisons. But compared to Robert's carefully brewed concoctions—some of which took days to craft and hours to take effect—the Life Workers were simply faster, flashier, and more desirable.
Not to mention the unparralelled beauty all these women posses which made every male clients droll over them while women with unforunate looks could only grit their teeth while being healed.
For over twenty years, Robert had been one of the most respected figures in the kingdom. His mastery over herbs, animals, and natural remedies had saved countless lives. Healing potions, mana vials, stamina elixirs—Robert had made them all. Yes, his potions tasted bitter and required long preparation, but they worked, and people once queued to acquire them.
But time was cruel just like the King. With the King's endorsement of the Life Workers and their priestesses from the Life Sanctuary, the demand for Robert's potions collapsed. Even worse, the King and his court openly mocked his methods and called him old-school healer.
Feeling disgraced and unneeded, Robert packed his belongings and left the capital, returning to Windell—the humble village of his childhood where he served the unfortunate villagers. he might not be as recognized by the capital but the grateful smiles of those he healed was enough for him. Not to mention, he had already saved enough to enjoy the rest of his retirement without any worry.
That decision had brought him peace- until today.
"I don't really know… I have a bad feeling about bringing that child to the King," Robert muttered, voice tinged with unease.
Across the table, Marissa tightened her grip around her teacup. "Robert, please. If we don't return that child, the King's wrath may not end with Jorthon. The entire village could suffer."
Robert sighed, calculating his limited options. "Very well," he finally said.
Relief bloomed across Marissa's face.
"I'll leave at dawn. It's too dangerous to travel with the child during the night, especially with the journey taking at least twelve hours on horseback."
Marissa nodded. "Thank you. If Jorthon returns via the secret teleporter, I'll tell him you're bringing the child to the King. Hopefully, this isn't against his will."
Robert's expression faltered.
"I hope so too."
"You can leave Rin with me for the night," Marissa added gently. "I know you're not used to handling babies."
Robert chuckled softly. "That'd be much appreciated."
He looked down at the baby and felt strange. For a moment, something stirred in his chest. A connection he couldn't explain. Perhaps it was the bond he once shared with Merina and Jorthon—his childhood friends. Or perhaps it was something deeper.
He couldn't be sure.
That night, Robert prepared meticulously: spare clothes, food rations, water, potions, a healing elixir or two, and his old sword—long since out of use but still sharp. He would need to travel light and fast.
The next morning, as the mist lifted from the village hills, he mounted his horse and rode toward Marissa's hut. But as he neared the village center, a chilling sight brought him to a halt.
A royal emissary stood in the square, flanked by twenty armed guards. Villagers immediately gathered cautiously, bowing out of habit, waiting for a message or decree. The emissary held a sealed scroll and raised his voice while he read the content:
"By order of His Majesty, King Aurelus of House Aurethiel, Sovereign of the Eternal Crown and Chosen of the Golden Phoenix—
Let it be known across all lands and holdings under his dominion:
Henceforth, all children born within the past turning of the sun—those of one year and younger—are to be delivered unto the flame, the blade, or the abyss."
Gasps erupted from the crowd. Panic surged like wildfire. Mothers clutched their babies. Fathers shouted in protest.
"What madness is this!?"
"Why would the King—!?"
Robert's blood ran cold. His instincts screamed that this was tied to the child—Rin—the one sent by Jorthon through the teleportation stone.
The emissary continued, unfazed.
"There shall be no exceptions. Mercy is no longer a luxury under those who dare to oppose his majesty. This decree stands as shield to the realm and sword to its enemies.
Those who defy this order shall be branded traitors, stripped of name, title, and blood. Their families shall be purged and their legacies shall be erased.
So speaks the Will of the King."
The villagers erupted into chaos. A few brave souls charged the emissary with raging fury, only to be cut down instantly by the royal guards. Blood stained the cobblestones while trouble ensues.
Others ran to save their children, unfortunately the knights had already surrounded most of the village except the edge where Marissa's hut was located.
The knights broke into homes, yanked screaming infants from cradles, and executed them on the spot.
A once-peaceful village had become a field of slaughter and the pleading and cries of the parents echoed along the wind.
Robert stood frozen until a familiar face caught his eye—one of the knights guarding the emissary. A man in his early thirties. Broad-shouldered. Confident. Someone Robert had met during his service as a herbalist for the King.
Robert leapt off his horse and approached with haste.
"Kevin!"
The knight's face lit up. "What do we have here?! Master Robert, the Potion Crafter! Long time no see!"
They shook hands firmly.
"You've become a captain, I see," Robert said, glancing at Kevin's Divine Frame.
**********************
Name: Kevin
Level: 26
Title: Knight Captain
Class: Knight
***********************
"Still not as strong as you," Kevin replied with a grin.
"I'm just a herbalist now," Robert said. "But you—you're a real knight. You've still got potential ahead of you."
Kevin beamed. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here. I still remember that potion you gave me during that training accident. And it was thanks to your potion that I am still able to serve now. I owe you everything, Robert."
"I was just doing my job," Robert replied, his voice softening. "But thank you."
They spoke for a few more moments before Robert leaned in, voice lowered.
"Kevin… this decree… What's it really about? And do you know anything about Jorthon?"
Kevin's smile faded. He glanced around and stepped back slightly.
"So you are unaware huh... I heard Jorthon was summoned to assist in the appraisal of the newborn prince."
Robert's eyes sharpened. "And?"
"The king… wasn't pleased. Apparently, the baby's Divine Frame didn't appear. He called it a freak. Ordered the execution of everyone present."
Robert's breath caught. "Everyone—?"
"Yes. Jorthon was among them."
Silence.
A deep, burning rage simmered in Robert's chest. Jorthon was not just his childhood friend but also a talented magician which the king himself acknowledged. He never once imagined that the king that had hired him will be the same would who would end him.
Robert clenched his fists but kept his face composed. He knew it is not a good idea to let his rage loose now. Kevin saw the fire in his eyes and offered a sympathetic nod.
"I'm sorry."
"Merina....What about the mother?" Robert asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"Merina… she died during childbirth if I am not mistaken."
Another blow. Another heartbreak.
Kevin leaned closer. "There's more. Keep this to yourself—but Jorthon didn't die quietly. He fought back against Kurtan who was assigned with the execution. I heard from one of the knights that at the last moment, he cast a teleportation spell on the child and vanished the third prince from the castle."
Robert's heart raced.
"He's the one who sent the baby here," Kevin confirmed.
"And now the King wants the child dead so badly, he's sacrificing every baby in the kingdom to find him. The nobles are furious. Some say they'll appeal to the Empire. But until then…"
Kevin looked him straight in the eye.
"If you have a baby—any baby—you need to hide them. Now."
Robert nodded grimly. "Thank you, Kevin. Truly."
Kevin tightened his grip on Robert's arm. "You saved my life once. I only hope I've returned the favor."
"I'll see you in the capital someday. Drinks on me."
Kevin smiled. "I'll hold you to that."
As Robert mounted his horse and galloped toward Marissa's hut, a shadow watched him from afar. A knight commander narrowed his eyes and smirked.
"Follow that man," he ordered.
"I have a good feeling about this." he smiled before mounting his horse as well.