Bloody wedding 1

In the endless white void, where no sky or ground could be found, where time itself held no meaning, two beings stood face to face. The Supreme Spirit of Order — the Fairy Queen — radiated with a divine brilliance, her infinite wings stretching across the nothingness like bridges of living light. Opposite her floated the Supreme Spirit of Chaos, silent and immovable, crowned by countless wings of shadow. His eyes were abysses without end, wells of eternal darkness that seemed to devour even thought itself. Their clash was not of blades or steel, but of existence itself. Every strike unleashed tides of creation and annihilation — weaving universes in one instant, unmaking them in the next. Far away, in the mortal realms, the reflection of their war echoed across heaven, sea, and earth. Armies of men filled the plains, banners rising high against the approaching void. Giants struck the ground, shattering mountains with each step. Elves and spirits conjured storms of magic that painted the skies with living fire. From oceans, mountains, and clouds poured forth the endless beasts of chaos, tearing through everything in their path. The heavens burned, the seas boiled, and the land split apart beneath the weight of battle. It was a war not for kings nor kingdoms — but for existence itself. And then… the balance broke. The world crumbled. Cities, armies, oceans, skies — all fell into a spiral of nothingness. Until there was nothing left. Nothing but eternal silence. For a time, there was only void. Then, from the stillness, a single spark of light was born. Tiny, fragile… yet infinite. It grew, it expanded, it burst — and from its radiance, galaxies spun into being, stars ignited, and countless new worlds were born. The cycle began anew. The old world was gone. And a new age awaited. A new world had taken shape. Eons had passed since the great clash of spirits, and from the reborn cosmos rose kingdoms, peoples, and civilizations. Within the heart of one such kingdom, life thrived. The grand human realm now prepared for a day unlike any other — the wedding of Princess Kalia and the commander of the knights, Leo. The castle glimmered with banners and flowers, its shining halls filled with music and celebration. Joy and anticipation spread through the streets as the people prepared to honor their beloved princess. Kalia was adored by all — a princess gifted with rare beauty and talent for magic, respected not only as royalty but as a symbol of hope. Many princes from foreign lands had once sought her hand, yet she had shown little interest in marriage. Leo, by contrast, was a man without noble birth. He had no lineage, no crown behind his name. He had risen through sweat, discipline, and the sword. His unmatched strength and loyalty had made him the kingdom’s greatest hero — the strongest man within its walls. Now, their union was before the eyes of the kingdom, a bond unexpected yet stirring the hearts of all. A day of triumph, a day of promise — the day Princess Kalia and Commander Leo would stand together. On one of the castle’s high balconies, King Edward and Leo stood side by side, overlooking the vast kingdom spread beneath them. King Edward: “I still remember the day we first met. I never imagined that the frightened boy hiding from the sound of thunder would grow to surpass me in strength — and one day become the husband of my only daughter, and the king after me.” Leo (with quiet respect): “The kindness the royal family showed me is something I will never forget. All that I am now, I owe to your guidance and generosity, Your Majesty.” The king smiled warmly. King Edward: “Do not belittle yourself, Leo. What you’ve achieved is the fruit of your own struggle. If you were not extraordinary, you would never have become the strongest man in this kingdom.” Leo hesitated for a moment before replying: Leo: “I dislike that rumor… the one that calls me the strongest.” The king looked at him curiously. King Edward: “And why is that?” Leo: “Because I don’t believe I am the strongest in this kingdom.” The king raised an eyebrow. King Edward: “Then who do you think surpasses you?” Leo’s voice was steady, almost reverent. Leo: “Her Majesty, the Queen.” The king let out a quiet laugh. King Edward: “Well… you are not wrong, yet not entirely right. In some ways, yes, she might be the strongest. I would stand no chance against her. But, sadly, she cannot wield her power. That truth does not change the fact that you remain the mightiest warrior this kingdom has.” Leo was struck by the king’s words. He wished to ask why the queen could not use her power, but he sensed that it would be stepping beyond his bounds — and so he held his tongue. In a vast field of blooming flowers stretching endlessly in every direction, Princess Kalia wandered gracefully. She searched carefully for any flower beginning to wither, and when she found one, she held it gently. With a faint flow of mana from her fingertips, the flower regained its radiant beauty. From the edge of the field, a majestic woman entered — elegant in her bearing, radiant in her presence. She approached Kalia. The princess turned, her face brightening. Kalia: “Mother.” This was Queen Selina. The queen sighed softly as she spoke. Selina: “Did I not tell you before to stop using magic to prolong the life of flowers?” Disappointment clouded Kalia’s face, and her voice rose slightly. Kalia: “Am I supposed to just let them die when I can save them?” Selina’s eyes held quiet sorrow as she answered. Selina: “My dear… we are not gods. We do not decide who lives and who dies. This world has its order, and all of us must follow it. In the end, everything dies. Everything. But from death comes birth again. Like this flower — when it dies, a new one will bloom in its place, more beautiful, stronger. By doing this, you are denying that cycle… you are preventing this flower from ever being reborn.” Kalia’s voice trembled, quiet but sharp, as she whispered: Kalia: “If that is true… if everything must die, and we cannot choose who lives or who dies… then why didn’t you let me die that day? The queen’s eyes widened at her daughter’s words. After a pause, she answered with only two words: Selina: “Because you’re my daughter.” Kalia fell silent, her protest extinguished by the weight of those words. Selina’s tone became firm but gentle. Selina: “Come, let us return to the castle. You must prepare for tonight.” The grand hall shone with golden chandeliers, its wide space filled with noble guests seated at long banquet tables. At the front stood King Edward, Queen Selina, the High Priest, and Sir Leo, the knight who had captured the kingdom’s admiration. The priest rang his small silver bell, and the hall fell into silence. From the great doors, the bride entered — Princess Kalia — wearing a flowing green wedding gown, radiant yet simple in its elegance. She walked with graceful steps until she stood before her groom. The priest’s voice echoed. Priest: “Sir Leo, speak now your vows.” Leo dropped to one knee before her, holding her hand gently as he slipped the ring onto her finger. His voice was steady, filled with devotion. Leo: “I, Leo, Commander of the Knights, vow to be a faithful and loving husband to you, Princess Kalia. I vow to stand by you, to support you, and to remain with you until the end of my days.” He kissed her hand lightly, then rose to his feet. Until this moment, the princess’s face remained veiled. Slowly, she too descended to her knees in answer. Leo lifted the veil, revealing her radiant smile. The princess’s voice was soft, but carried the strength of her heart. Kalia: “I, Princess Kalia, vow to be your faithful wife, your partner, and companion through life. I vow to be your first pillar of support, and to remain with you until the end of my days.” The vows were complete. The ceremony ended with solemnity, yet the celebration was only just beginning. Later that night, beneath the pale glow of the moon, Kalia and Leo strolled together through the royal gardens. The distant echoes of music and laughter from the celebration were faint, for Kalia had grown weary of the noise. Kalia: “Do you remember the day you first came to the castle?” Leo: “I don’t think anyone could forget such a day.” She smiled softly. Kalia: “I suppose we’ve been inseparable ever since.” Leo: “Well, you were always following me around. Did you fall for me the first time you saw me?” Her smile widened. Kalia: “Perhaps. You were… intriguing to me. But more than that, I always felt a closeness between us. What about you? You asked to become my personal guard back then. Did you fall for me at first sight as well?” Leo: “Is that even a surprise? Who wouldn’t be captivated by a radiant princess like you? Teaching me, guiding me, showing me magic…” Kalia sighed and came to a stop, turning to face him. Her hands cupped his face with tenderness. Kalia: “I have always felt that bond, Leo… yet at the same time, I cannot help but feel that you are hiding so much from me. But know this: we are together now. And I will stand by you, always.” Before Leo could answer, a mocking voice interrupted from behind. ???: “A truly romantic scene… but don’t you think it’s rude for the newlyweds to abandon their own feast?” They turned. Before them stood Rex Gladvor, a young noble draped in elegance, with a reputation for kindness and charity. He was head of his family since the tragic fire that claimed his parents. To all appearances, he was a man admired by many. Yet both Kalia and Leo felt it—that unsettling aura that seeped from him like a shadow. Their faces remained composed, careful not to show the disgust they felt. Leo: “Forgive us, Lord Rex. We only wished for a breath of fresh air. We will return shortly.” Rex tilted his head, his tone sharp. Rex: “I don’t think that will be necessary.” Kalia’s eyes narrowed, her expression shifting as she fixed on the ominous aura spilling from him. Rex: “When you rejected my proposal, I never imagined I would lose to a man with no family name. It was… humiliating. I had to postpone so many of my plans. But I cannot delay any longer. I will be taking you, dear princess.” Kalia: “…Taking me?” Leo’s voice hardened, his hand moving to his sword. Leo: “Watch your words, Lord Rex. I may bear no noble lineage, but I am still Commander of the Knights, and the man who will be king. And the one you speak to so casually is the princess of this realm—your future queen.” Rex laughed—a chilling, manic laugh. Rex: “Oh, how amusing! So full of self-importance. King? Hah! None of it matters. This kingdom means nothing to me. Give me the girl, and you can keep your throne, your titles, your pride.” Both Kalia and Leo grew tense, stepping back as Leo drew his sword in one swift motion. In that moment, a wave of murderous aura burst from Rex, so suffocating it reached the king and queen in the castle. But in a flash, Leo was already upon him. Steel sang, and blood sprayed. Rex’s hand was severed, spinning into the night air. Yet the noble’s twisted grin only widened. Rex: “Marvelous… The rumors did not lie. The way you shifted your blade from my neck to take my hand—impeccable skill. Truly… you are remarkable.” Kalia, channeling mana to strengthen Leo, felt her chest tighten. That aura—dark and vile—stirred something buried deep, something she could not place. But she had no time to dwell on it. Rex raised his bleeding arm and squeezed, letting crimson drip to the earth. His voice rang out, echoing like a curse: Rex: “Come forth, my darlings… descend and burn this land!” The skies split open. From the darkness above, swarms of hideous creatures poured forth, their shrieks filling the night. The capital’s skies blotted out as monstrous wings spread wide, and the city below trembled beneath their descent. The capital trembled beneath the screams of the beasts—shrieks so sharp they pierced the ears like jagged blades. From the heavens descended flocks of twisted abominations, wings of rotting leather stretched wide, jaws torn open to their ears as they devoured anything in sight. From the depths of the earth surged colossal worms, their bodies plated with jutting bones, maws spiraling with endless rings of teeth that ground flesh and steel alike. Beyond the shores, titanic shapes rose from the sea, eyes glowing like lanterns of the abyss, their tentacle-like limbs crushing ships into splinters with a single squeeze. The knights of the realm charged forth, armor gleaming, lances raised, the thunder of their steeds echoing like a storm. Yet what began as valor soon collapsed into carnage. Fangs tore through breastplates, claws pierced iron as if it were parchment, crimson blood spilling over cobblestone streets. Screams of men, giants, and elves mingled together, a chorus of despair beneath the storm of slaughter. The sky itself turned into an inferno—tongues of fire and waves of dark mana crashing down with every strike. Hordes of monstrosities poured across the kingdom like a living tide of blackness, drowning hope beneath their endless onslaught.