The throne room felt smaller, less like a grand hall and more like a battered war room. Cracked pillars cast long shadows across the floor, and the queen's throne looked even more worn under the pale light filtering through shattered windows. The king stood beside his wife now, dented crown straightened, scarred hands clasped behind his back. The old mage hovered nearby, Liora and Seraphine at the queen's flanks.
Brad and Chad entered side by side. The sand from the training yard still clung to their boots. Neither had spoken much since the executions. The weight of those first kills lingered like a bad hangover that wouldn't quit.
The king stepped forward first. His voice carried the gravel of too many sleepless nights.
"You have proven you can draw blood," he said. "That is no small thing. Many summoned before you faltered at the sight of it. But the true test lies beyond these walls. The corruption did not begin in Eldrathar Keep. It festers in the villages, the forests, the roads. You must see it for yourselves—feel the weight of what the fallen heroes have wrought."
He reached into a pouch at his belt and produced two small leather bags, each heavy with the clink of metal. He handed one to Brad, then one to Chad.
"Fifty gold crowns each," the king said. "Enough to buy supplies, horses, and passage where needed. It will not last long. The world is not kind to travelers anymore. You will need to earn more—through quests, loot, or whatever means you deem fit."
Brad hefted the pouch, feeling the coins shift. "Fifty gold? That's like… starter capital. We can work with that."
Chad opened his and peered inside. "We can make it work."
The king's gaze hardened. "The journey will be long and hard. The corrupted heroes rule from distant citadels now—strongholds that once belonged to the light. Their lieutenants roam the land, enforcing their twisted law. Bandits prey on the weak. Monsters grow bolder without the old guardians. You will face hunger, betrayal, and worse. But only by walking the roads can you understand the evil you were summoned to end."
Brad met the king's eyes. "We get it. No shortcuts. No staying holed up in the castle while the world burns."
Chad nodded. "We'll see it firsthand. Then we'll fix it. One corrupted asshole at a time."
The queen spoke then, softer but no less firm. "The prophecy named you heroes for a reason. You carry no loyalties, no scars from the Demon King's war. Use that clarity. And return—when you are ready—with the strength to challenge the Black Moon itself."
The king extended his hand. Brad and Chad shook it in turn—firm, no hesitation.
"May the Sun guide you," the king said. "And may your… unconventional gifts serve the light."
Brad smirked despite the gravity. "We'll make it work. Bro code's unbreakable."
Chad clapped Brad on the shoulder. "Let's roll."
They turned toward the massive double doors at the far end of the hall—the ones that led to the outer courtyard and the broken gates beyond. Guards pulled them open with a groan of iron and stone.
Liora and Seraphine stepped forward at the same moment, as if on cue.
Liora approached Brad first, emerald eyes steady. "My lord Bro-mancer," she said quietly. "The road is dangerous. Take care."
Brad grinned, softer this time. "You too, elf girl. Keep safe till we get back."
Before she could respond, he leaned in and kissed her—quick, confident, right on the lips. Liora stiffened for half a second, then melted just enough to return it, a faint flush coloring her pointed ears.
Across the room, Seraphine stepped close to Chad. "My lord Bro-llionaire," she murmured. "Come back whole."
Chad's smirk was gentle. "Count on it."
He cupped her cheek and kissed her—deeper than Brad's, lingering a beat longer. Seraphine's hands rested lightly on his armored chest, then slid away as he pulled back.
The maids stepped aside, expressions composed again, though the air between them crackled with something unspoken.
Brad twirled his staff once, violet sparks trailing. "Alright, Chad. First quest: survive the fantasy world."
Chad adjusted his sword belt. "Then we party again!"
They walked out together, boots echoing on stone, pouches of gold clinking at their hips. The courtyard beyond the doors was a mess of cracked flagstones, overturned carts, and the faint smell of smoke that never quite left the keep. Guards saluted as they passed. A few villagers—refugees sheltering inside the walls—watched with wide eyes.
At the outer gate, two sturdy horses waited, saddled and provisioned with basic packs: bread, dried meat, waterskins, a map rolled in oilskin. A stablehand bowed low.
"Safe roads, my lords."
Brad mounted first, staff across his back like a rifle. "Safe roads? Bro, we're about to make them unsafe for the bad guys."
Chad swung up onto his horse with surprising ease—the warrior class making the armor feel like a second skin. "Let's go see what this world's really like."
They rode out through the shattered gates, the ruined road stretching ahead into mist-shrouded hills. Behind them, Eldrathar Keep shrank against the horizon—cracked towers and broken walls silhouetted against the sun.
Ahead lay the unknown: corrupted lands, hidden evils, new skills to unlock, gold to earn, and—hopefully—more kisses worth surviving for.
Brad glanced at Chad. "You ready for this?"
Chad grinned. "Born ready. Let's level up."
The two frat bros rode on, leaving the keep behind and the journey truly beginning.