The Abused is The Abuser in Another World

Chapter 18: Shadows of War

Little did they know, one of Serath's men had managed to escape the brutal ambush, slipping away into the shadows amidst the chaos. Bloodied and exhausted, he ran for miles without stopping, ensuring his own safety above all else. His heart pounded in his chest, fear driving him forward. He knew what awaited him if he failed to deliver his report to King Edric.

When he finally reached the borders of the Kingdom of Arathorne, he collapsed at the gates of a small outpost. The guards quickly took him in, recognizing the emblem of the King's intelligence unit. After receiving some brief medical attention, he was rushed to the capital, Stormhaven, to make his report.

Inside the grand hall of Stormhaven, King Edric Arathorne III sat on his high throne, his expression stern and contemplative as he listened to the survivor recount the events. The spy, still shaking from the ordeal, recounted every detail with precision.

"Your Majesty," he began, his voice hoarse, "we were on our way back from Valewood when we were attacked by a strange group. A goblin, two elves, and a human-like creature... but I swear upon my life, he wasn't human. He wielded a massive scythe with an unnatural ease, and his eyes... his eyes were like crimson fire."

King Edric's cold gray eyes narrowed, his fingers drumming impatiently on the armrest of his throne. "And you are certain of this?" he demanded, his voice filled with the heavy weight of suspicion.

"Yes, Your Majesty," the spy stammered. "They came out of nowhere, and they... they slaughtered us. Only I managed to escape. I marked the location where we encountered them, but... they were strong, far stronger than anything I've ever seen."

The king's expression darkened further, his calculating mind already turning over this new information. "A goblin, elves, and... something else," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else. He could sense something unusual, something dangerous. "No mere band of rebels," he mused, "but who are they?"

Anger boiled in King Edric's veins. He had already planned to seize the Duchy of Valewood, but this unexpected interference threatened to complicate his ambitions. He could not afford unknown elements disrupting his plans.

Suddenly, his voice boomed across the hall, "Enough! I will not tolerate such defiance! They dared to kill my spies, they dared to oppose the will of Arathorne... they will be hunted down like the dogs they are!"

He turned sharply to his captain of the guard. "Send for the Crimson Blades," he ordered, his voice dripping with lethal intent. "They are my most trusted warriors. They will bring me this... group's heads."

The captain nodded and quickly left the chamber. Moments later, the king's most elite force, known as the Crimson Blades, entered the grand hall. Each warrior was renowned throughout the kingdom for their skill and ruthlessness in battle.

First was Alaric, a towering swordsman with long silver hair and a red cloak flowing over his battle-worn armor. His blade gleamed with a dark aura, and a thin smile played at his lips, knowing he had ended countless lives.

Beside him stood Tiberius, a colossal figure clad in heavy, intricately designed armor. He wielded a massive shield and a mace, his movements slow but powerful. His stoic demeanor and silent gaze reflected years of battle experience.

To Tiberius's right was Lucas, a lean figure with sharp, calculating eyes. His twin pistols hung from his belt, with a rifle slung across his back. He exuded cocky confidence, scanning the hall with a smirk as if already plotting his next shot.

Finally, there was Seraphine, a slender, striking woman with vibrant red hair. She carried two razor-sharp blades, and her reputation as an aerial assassin was well-earned. Seraphine's movements were graceful yet lethal, like a predator ready to strike.