The Cursed Duke isn't Cursed!

Chapter 1

A/N: It has been a while since I took up my pen and write a story! I made the prologue when I was on my last year of high school-i believe.

Here are some things that I have considered adding to my story for a change:

1. Dark theme suited for ages 15+
    I remember wanting to write for a change so I want to continue doing that and write in a more gloomy manner.

And,

3. Mature audience. Yes, I think Im now ready to write something suited for mature audiences now. Mature audience meaning I will write disturbing things such as:
Gore
Abuse
Heavy language
Smut
and such.

So if you're not a fan of these then please close this book and leave silently. Thank you for your time now let us begin.

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Chapter 1 - In the Ashes of Ruin

5th of Fall, the III, 500 BCE

Nightfall passed since the flames devoured Baron Vesci's estate. The once grand manor, with its high walls and rich tapestries, now lay in ruin—charred wood, crumbling stone, and ash-filled air were all that remained.

The soldiers, tired and grim, combed through the wreckage for anything of value or information that could be salvaged. Few dared to linger too long; the air was thick with the stench of burnt flesh and the echoes of the past night's screams.

"Shit, I can't believe he received way too much of the war slaves his grace brought from that war."

One of the soldiers said as he looked at the dead bodies scattered around. Most of them wearing a neck cuff symbolizing that they were war slaves from the fallen kingdom that the Duke Seibert completely annihilated 3 years ago.

Some of the soldiers wrinkled their nose in disgust but some did not mind the disgusting wrench and sat besides the rotting corpses.

It was clear that everyone was exhausted as they turned this once glorious estate into ruins.

Yet there was no rest for Duke Acerid Seibert. His cold, calculating eyes surveyed the devastation from afar, a silent sentinel above the destruction he had wrought.

"There's no time for rest. Let's move forward and capture all of them."

"Leave no one breathing alive" he coldly stated.

Despite the inner thoughts of the soldiers wanting to take a shirt break they can't do something to make the man lose his patience even more.

So they continued savaging.

The estate was a labyrinth of collapsed corridors and smoldering debris. Most of the soldiers had refused to venture into the deeper parts of the manor, where the shadows clung like a second skin and the air grew heavy with a sense of dread.

They whispered of ghosts and cursed spirits, of the wrath of the Vesci family lingering even in death. The Duke dismissed such superstitions with a sneer, as they somehow found theirselves in a deep and dark passage.

It seems that this was what the Baron hid from everyone.

Beneath that generous Baron's facade lays a secret that everyone has chills when they found out.