"Arrest these heathens!!"
The command ripped through the air like thunder. As Nyx stepped out of the manor, he found himself face-to-face with a wall of iron. Hundreds—no, thousands—of soldiers had already encircled the area. Blades drawn. Arrows notched. Magic flaring at fingertips.
The Royal Army wasn't taking chances.
For a long second, Nyx stood still—unmoving, unreadable. Then slowly… he smirked.
He raised his hands and surrendered without a word.
The soldiers swarmed in immediately. Shackles slammed around his wrists, rough hands dragged him down. The rest of the manor's occupants were arrested alongside him—Reina, Theo, Valon, Ruby, even Samantha. No exceptions.
Except a few.
Sylvia, Vin, and Gin remained untouched. The soldiers didn't even look in their direction. Not out of respect… but fear. Some monsters weren't to be caged.
Even Karl, who had long since shed his noble identity, they couldn't touch. And perhaps because of his presence, the guards didn't dare lay a finger on the rest of the children.
Elric was carried out shortly after. Bloodied. Barely conscious. His body a mangled mess. And when the guards saw what had been done to the prince, even the veterans faltered. Some looked away. Others muttered prayers.
Still, the orders were clear.
The royal decree echoed across the kingdom by nightfall.
"Nyx Vaelthorn and his companions are to be executed for treason. One week from today."
Even Samantha Ironhart, the king's own daughter, was branded a traitor.
---
Back in his cell, Nyx sat alone.
No one else was held in his wing. He wasn't here for containment—he was here for vengeance. The king himself had demanded it.
He hadn't spoken since the arrest. Not to the guards. Not to his allies. Not even to the system.
But as night fell on the third day, something flickered in his expression.
"Can't go beyond prediction, huh?" he muttered, voice low and detached.
---
Inside the manor, heavily guarded and under constant surveillance—
Samantha stared at the window, biting her lip. Her eyes were red. She hadn't slept properly in days.
"Is Nyx going to be alright?" she asked quietly.
Karl didn't turn. He stood by the window, arms folded, eyes scanning the horizon.
"Young master said to move only when the signal is given."
"But it's been three days!" she snapped, her voice cracking. "Please… help him. Please..."
Karl remained quiet for a moment, his eyes flickering with uncertainty.
"He doesn't make moves without a plan," he said eventually, his tone stern but tinged with doubt. "Everything he's done so far—every step—it's always been calculated. Precise."
But deep down, even he wasn't sure anymore.
That wasn't calculation back in the manor. That was raw, brutal emotion. Rage incarnate.
Karl had known Nyx since he was a child… but what he saw in that torture room?
That was a different being altogether.
---
Elsewhere, the world prepared for judgment.
The palace braced itself. Plans were drawn. Walls reinforced. Gallows built under torchlight. Propaganda spread like wildfire.
Sofie and Rhea moved through the castle shadows, their eyes watching, waiting, ready to strike at the slightest sign.
Silas and Sylvia held their positions near the outskirts—both already prepared to burn the kingdom to ash if the time came.
Gin, the Mad Berserker, had gathered his entire warband. They stood outside the capital in plain sight—silent, unmoving. A warning.
And beyond them… the rest of the world held its breath.
The people were torn. Whispers filled the streets.
"Isn't he the son of Rowan?"
"They're calling him a traitor now. Just like his father."
"But Rowan was falsely executed, wasn't he?"
"So why are they executing Nyx too?"
The capital simmered with doubt and fury. Protests began to rise. Rumors spread like wildfire. And at the center of it all… was silence.
---
Nyx sat cross-legged in his prison cell. Still shackled. Still unmoving. The torchlight from outside flickered through the iron bars, painting shadows across his face.
Then—he spoke.
"I remember I never used the 'Beginner's Gift Package' from the first mission, right?"
A beat of silence. Then a familiar voice chirped back, smug as ever.
[Yeah. It's still there. Rotting somewhere in your storage.]
Nyx chuckled. Just once.
And in that moment, the shadows seemed to lean closer.
His eyes glinted, sharper than steel.
"You wanted to see brutality, right?"
He smiled, cruel and calm.
"Alright... I'll show you the most brutal scenes in the entire history of humanity."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Buckle up."
As soon as Nyx opened the Beginner's Gift Package, a slow grin spread across his face.
"So, you prepared this from the very beginning, huh?"
[You didn't bother opening it, I didn't bother explaining it.] the system replied, indifferent.
Just then—
"COME OUT, BASTARD! Time for your beheading ceremony!"
A soldier yanked Nyx by the chains, dragging him out of his cell and toward the execution platform without care. His limbs scraped along the stone, but Nyx didn't resist—his expression stayed distant, frozen in a calm colder than steel.
Outside, thousands of soldiers had lined up around the execution site. The crowd was massive—nobles, commoners, ministers—all gathered for the spectacle. Rumors had already flooded the capital: the torturer of Prince Elric, the traitor son of Rowan Vaelthorn, was to be executed.
Among the front rows stood:
King Aldric Ironhart, stiff and expressionless.
Prince Leon, visibly tense.
Elric, smirking despite the scars still fresh on his body.
High-ranking nobles surrounded them, watching in anticipation. And there, standing on the execution platform alone, was Nyx.
His chains rattled softly in the breeze as he lifted his head and stared—straight into their souls.
There was no fear in his eyes. Only death.
The crowd involuntarily held its breath.
Far off, hidden in the shadows, stood the ones who would've died for him if not for the very order he gave—Sofie, Rhea, Karl, Samantha, Valon, Luna, Ruby, and the rest.
They waited.
"THE EXECUTION OF THE HEATHEN WHO ABDUCTED PRINCE ELRIC AND TORTURED HIM! AS A RESULT, THE ROYAL COURT HAS DECIDED UPON THE BEHEADING OF NYX VAELTHORN!"
The executioner's voice boomed across the capital square, etched with pride and authority.
A few in the crowd cheered. And then—
"Pffft—hahahaha..."
Nyx suddenly laughed.
So loud, so raw, that he collapsed onto the platform, clutching his stomach.
His manic laughter echoed off the palace walls, and murmurs broke out across the crowd. Some wondered if he had gone insane. Some were already spinning rumors.
But then—
"Heathen, huh? That's a fucking title you gave me."
His voice now carried steel—a stillness so terrifying it silenced the crowd instantly.
Nyx stood up. And the chains crumbled into dust.
Everyone froze.
He scanned the crowd again—slowly, deliberately—eyes locking with those seated up front.
Finally, he turned to Elric.
"I said you then, right? It's not your time yet. So... let's decide your time now."
Nyx stepped off the platform and began walking. Elric stumbled backward, panic in his eyes. He tried to crawl behind the guards.
"What are you all watching for?! KILL THAT BASTARD!!" Aldric's voice cracked with desperation.
The guards drew their swords. And then—
Their heads flew before their weapons left their scabbards.
Blood sprayed like fountains.
One by one, every guard on the platform—and around it—had their heads roll across the ground.
Sofie and Rhea stepped out of the shadows, their daggers slick with fresh blood.
Silence.
Then Karl arrived on stage, followed by the rest—Samantha, Ruby, Theo, Reina, Luna, Valon—surrounding Nyx with unflinching resolve.
Their presence was silent judgment.
"Shall we do some talking, rat?"
Nyx's grin returned, twisted and sharp like a blade.
He marched forward, grabbed Elric by the collar, and dragged him to the center of the execution platform. The nobles flinched. The public held their breath.
"Let's do some Q&A, rat. I'll ask questions, you answer. Clear?"
He didn't wait for a response. He simply drew his sword and pressed it to Elric's leg.
"Who killed the late queen, Lady Elie?"
The question hit like a thunderclap. Shock rippled through the crowd. Even the nobles stared in disbelief. Elric's eyes widened.
But something in Nyx's voice made lying impossible.
"I—I poisoned the... the late queen. I took Snaerl's Liquid and… and fed it to her in a cake… told her it was from S-Samantha..."
Gasps everywhere. Even King Aldric's face cracked. His hands trembled.
'What…? No… She… she didn't…'
Then— "ARRRGHHHH!!"
Nyx sliced through a thick piece of flesh on Elric's leg. Blood gushed as the scream echoed across the square.
"I'll ask a question. You'll answer it. Nothing more, nothing less."
He didn't even blink as he turned his sword to the other leg.
"Who framed Samantha Ironhart?"
Elric screamed through the pain.
"I—I DID IT!!"
Nyx didn't speak. He simply severed the entire leg with a clean slash.
"Raise your voice again and it'll be your head flying."
Elric bit down, tears mixing with blood as he fought to stay conscious.
Nyx turned to his allies.
"If you came here… then I'm sure you're ready to walk this path?"
They all nodded—as one. Nyx turned to the mages.
"Luna… heal him. Constantly. Reina… corrosion. Keep it going."
Even the mere sound of those words made hearts stop. The entire square fell into dead silence. Not even the wind dared to stir.
"What was the reason you killed Lady Elie and framed Samantha?"
The sword hovered over Elric's remaining leg.
"I—Father started focusing on her more. I thought I'd lose the war of succession. So I had to kill that bit—"
"ARRRGHHH!"
Before he finished, his last leg was sliced off.
Nyx wiped his sword against Elric's shoulder, the motion slow and cruel.
"Even though you had your seat secured as a fucking crown prince, you killed your mother and destroyed your sister—a teen who had barely seen the world? That's a fucked-up reason I don't wanna hear."
He turned to Valon, tossing him the bloodied blade.
"Fulfill your duty, knight."
Valon caught the sword, his gaze fixed on Elric.
"I regret not killing you that day."
Without hesitation, he drove the blade into Elric's abdomen and dragged his screaming body off the platform.
He threw him into the dirt, among the crowd.
Then he turned, walked back to Samantha, and kneeled before her.
"I couldn't fulfill my promise back then. But I swear—if the gods themselves turn against you, I will become your sword."
"Please… accept this failure of a knight, Master."
He struck his chest with a fist, vowing. Then he stepped back, raised the sword—and beheaded Elric with a clean strike.
He placed the severed head at Samantha's feet.
Samantha stared at the head. Then her eyes slowly lifted toward the king—her father—who still refused to look at her.
She turned to Nyx, who gave a small nod. Samantha exhaled.
"Let's leave this filth. A place where even children are abandoned and used as tools for monsters."
She dropped the sword and turned her back to the capital. The rest followed in silence.
Only Nyx and Karl remained. Nyx stepped forward, towering over Aldric, who looked more like a corpse than a king.
"My offer is still active, Aldric. Reveal the truth... or next time—
I'll erase your entire existence."
The sky rumbled. And then—
A meteor, burning crimson, tore through the heavens and flattened the royal palace in one colossal impact.
The throne. The walls. The bloodline. All gone. Nyx turned, the fire in his eyes unshaken.
"Might be the whole fucking kingdom next time."
And with that— He walked away.
Suddenly—
"I framed your father, Rowan Vaelthorn."
The voice rang out across the execution square, clear and deliberate. Every soul turned toward the sound, breath caught in their throats.
Nyx slowly turned back, eyes narrowing. A smirk tugged at his lips—cold, cruel, inevitable.
"Time for a payback then."