Four years vanished in the relentless pursuit of power,
He had mastered its outward manifestations—the shadows,
the life-draining touch—but the internal pull towards chaos was a battle waged every moment. He knew he was powerful, perhaps dangerously so,
Then, one morning, as he meditated amidst the towering ancient trees of the Whisperwind Jungle,
the System interface:
> Urgent Order: Eliminate King Alaric of Oakhaven.
>
Liam stared at the glowing text, a cold knot forming in his stomach.
King Alaric? The benevolent ruler, beloved by his people,
who had brought years of peace and prosperity to Oakhaven?
Why kill a good man, a king, for what?
Did he do anything wrong at the time I was gone
He needed answers.
And he needed to see Oakhaven,
He focused, channeling the Dark Force,
With a thought, he executed a "Dark Force teleport," the world blurring into a vortex of shadows
He materialized silently in the narrow, bustling streets of Oakhaven,
the familiar scent of wood smoke and human industry a jarring contrast to the jungle's wild embrace.
He moved through the crowds,
The city had prospered in his absence;
the stone walls were taller,
the markets more vibrant.
He was heading towards the royal palace, seeking a vantage point,
when a desperate cry for help pierced his mind. It was a scream of pure terror,
Liam didn't hesitate.
He shifted into a shadow, moving with blinding speed through the alleys,
He burst into a secluded courtyard behind a grand manor,
just in time to see a young woman,
her golden hair disheveled, struggling violently against a man.
Liam's eyes narrowed.
Kael. His former tormentor from the orphanage, older, heavier, but still radiating the same petty cruelty.
Kael had grown into a minor thug, preying on the weak, just as he had once preyed on Liam.
"Let go of me, you brute!" the woman cried, fear lacing her voice.
Kael merely laughed, tightening his grip. "Oh, but you've been a naughty little bird, haven't you?
Three days hiding in those dusty archives, and now you stumble right into my trap!"
A cold rage surged through Liam.
This was the embodiment of the injustice and torment he had suffered,
inflicting it upon another innocent.
He stepped from the shadows, his presence suddenly chilling the air.
Kael, startled, spun around. His eyes widened as he saw Liam,.
"W-who are you?" he stammered, his bravado wilting under Liam's piercing gaze.
Liam didn't answer.
He simply extended a hand, and the Dark Force flared, tendrils of inky shadow reaching out, snaking around Kael
Kael screamed, a pathetic, gurgling sound, as the shadows seeped into him,
draining his vitality, his life force. His body withered, his skin turning ashen, his eyes rolling back. In moments, Kael crumpled to the ground, a shriveled husk.
The woman stared, horrified but also utterly captivated, at Liam, then at the lifeless form of Kael.
Her eyes, wide and intelligent, scanned Liam's powerful frame,
seeing both the terror of his power and the silent, protective resolve in his gaze.
The silence was shattered by the thunder of approaching footsteps.
Moments later, a squad of royal guards burst into the courtyard, their swords drawn.
They had evidently been searching, their faces etched with frantic worry. Their eyes immediately fell upon the woman Liam had just saved.
"There she is, sir! It's Princess Lyra!"
Liam's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Princess Lyra.
The King's daughter. The pieces clicked into place:
Kael's mention of "dusty archives," the guards' frantic search,
the King's looming order.
Just then, King Alaric himself entered the courtyard,
his face pale with concern, flanked by more guards. He rushed to Lyra, embracing her tightly. "Lyra! My daughter! Thank the heavens!
We've been searching for you for three days!" He then looked up, his gaze falling upon Liam, then the shriveled corpse of Kael.
"You... you saved my daughter?" King Alaric asked,
Liam simply nodded.
The King, a man of quick judgment and keen insight,
sensed the immense power radiating from Liam, but also, surprisingly, a flicker of something honorable beneath the darkness.
"Such power... and such swift action. What is your name, stranger?"
Liam hesitated, then, for the first time in years, spoke his true name,
"Liam."
King Alaric studied him for a moment then against the advice of his trembling guards, offered a respectful nod.
"Liam. You have my deepest gratitude. Please, come to the palace. I wish to give you a gift .
At the palace
Liam looked at the King, a genuinely kind man, surrounded by his devoted family,
and a profound sense of dissonance settled in his heart.
The System's command echoed in his mind,
stark and terrifying: Eliminate King Alaric.
How could he reconcile this man with the monstrous order he had been given?
The King's humanity, his warmth, was a direct challenge to the System's cold, calculating decree.
Liam knew he had to uncover the truth behind this terrifying command.