"Kaelith! Give your wife some love! Do you only keep me around for the housework?" Mihu's voice rang out from the kitchen, feigning a sharp edge that didn't hide her affection.
Kaelith, the strongest swordmaster in the Holy Kingdom, chuckled. He set aside the blade he had been polishing all morning and took long, purposeful strides toward the smell of spices. He found her by the hearth.
"Yes, honey?"
"You haven't let go of that sword all day," she chided, waving a wooden spoon at him. "Why don't you help your wife with the meal?"
"Mihu, you're a noble now," Kaelith said, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "There is no longer a need for you to slave over a stove."
"I like cooking for you, de—"
Before she could finish, Kaelith moved with the blurred speed of a master. He caught her by the waist and gently pinned her against the wall, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"Wha—what are you doing?" she stammered, her face turning a deep crimson.
"How can I resist you when you look like this?" He leaned in, drowning her protest in a wave of kisses.
"You two sure are having fun," a dry voice interrupted.
They broke apart to see Leo, Mihu's nephew, standing in the doorway with a knowing smirk. Mihu immediately hid her burning face in her hands, remembering she had invited him for lunch.
"How are you, Leo?" Kaelith asked, though his eyes narrowed playfully.
"I'm fine, Unc!"
Kaelith's brow twitched at the nickname. Without a word, he drew his sword from its scabbard in a flash of silver, the steel humming. He made a slow, deliberate motion as if he were about to snap the priceless blade over his knee.
"No! Stop! Please don't!" Leo yelled, eyes wide. The sword was meant for him, but he knew even more how much Kaelith loved to tease.
"Sigh... Kaelith, stop tormenting the boy," Mihu laughed.
The lighthearted moment was shattered by the heavy thud of the front castle doors swinging open. The High Priest of the Holy Kingdom entered, his white robes flowing. To Kaelith, this man was a father figure; his trust in the Church and the Gods was absolute.
"How may I serve the Heavens today, Father?" Kaelith asked, dropping into a respectful posture.
"The Gods need you, my child," the Priest said, his voice grave. "A massive beast surge has begun. We need the Shield of the Kingdom."
Kaelith didn't hesitate. He knelt, his voice echoing in the hall. "I accept. I shall begin the march immediately."
He gave Mihu a final kiss on the forehead and a firm hug to Leo. He turned toward the door to protect his kingdom once more, never imagining that the warmth of Mihu's skin would be the last thing he ever felt of her.
The Road to Hell
Kaelith rode hard with his two most trusted aids, George and Mark. They had bled together since they were nineteen-year-old recruits.
"George, ETA?" Kaelith shouted over the thunder of hooves.
"Thirty minutes, Captain!"
Mark chuckled from the side. "Already missing the wife, Captain? You're a hopeless romantic."
"What can I say? Love is a harsh master," Kaelith replied with a grin.
When they arrived, the local commander took one look at Kaelith and dropped to his knees. "Your Honor! The hoard is massive—we need your help immediately!
Kaelith didn't waste time. He leaped from his horse, soaring into the air before crashing into the center of the beast hoard like a falling star.
"Mana Triple Slash!"
His blade became a blur of blue light. Three mutated beasts lunged from his flank; he skidded beneath their claws and rose in a whirlwind of steel, dispersing them into nothingness. With his aids at his side, the "monsters" became mere wheat before a scythe. Within an hour, the field was silent.
"Thank you, Your Honor! You saved us!" the commander cried.
"It is my duty as the knight chosen by the Gods," Kaelith said, wiping blood from his blade.
"AMEN!" the soldiers roared in unison.
But as Kaelith began the ride home, a cold stone formed in his gut. The air felt thin. He looked at George and Mark, but they seemed calm. He tried to shake the feeling, pushing his horse faster.
He arrived. But it wasn't his estate anymore. It was a vision of hell.
Smoke choked the sky. The servants he had known for years lay butchered in the gardens. Fire devoured the wood and stone of his home. Kaelith sprinted, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird, until he reached the inner sanctum.
There stood the High Priest. He wasn't praying. He was smiling.
"Your wife and nephew were a necessary sacrifice to the Gods, Kaelith," the Priest said smoothly.
"What...?" Tears blurred Kaelith's vision. "WHY? After everything I've done! Why my family!?"
"It was the will of the Heavens."
Pure, undying hate surged through Kaelith's veins, turning his blood to fire. The Gods he served, the Church he protected—it was all a lie. He lunged for the Priest's throat, wanting to rip the life from him.
Schlick.
Kaelith froze. Cold steel protruded from his chest. He looked back to see George and Mark, the men he had trusted since he was nineteen, holding the hilts of the swords currently buried in his lungs.
He roared in agony and betrayal, a final burst of mana exploding from his body. Even with a blade in his back, he swung. His sword carved through four Holy Knights guarding the Priest. He fought like a demon, felling over a hundred men as his life dripped onto the floor of his ruined home.
Finally, his knees buckled. The High Priest stepped forward and delivered the final thrust.
"I'LL KILL YOU!" Kaelith screamed, coughing up mouthfuls of crimson. "I'LL FUCKING KILL ALL OF YOU!"
With his final breath, he looked at the sky and cursed the very stars. "If I have another life... I will never trust the Gods again. I will burn it all down."
Then, the world went black