Stroke marched with boastful strides through the halls, his new friends keeping his pace at his sides. Snow clung to Death’s arm, her strong stomach turning weaker with each new stench of iron and shit that invaded her nostrils. Bodies were strewn across everything they came across—the walls, the chandeliers, the windows. They came upon the feasting hall, and even the empty plates and goblets were filled to the brim with blood and chunks of flesh. No man or woman was whole, and each corpse had the same marking of a kill on their heads. A gaping mouth, eyes ripped out, three claw marks from eyelid to check, resembling tears of blood.

  “What kind of fuckin’ animal did this?” Vera gagged. “Gods… I can smell what they had for lunch.”

  “A rabid animal, perhaps,” Beion chuckled. “Maybe you have a fellow hybrid lurking in the halls, hm?”

  “Not a hybrid,” Death said. “This place reeks of magic. Stroke, what is this? Was this you?”

  “Yes and no,” he said drily. “I wasn’t the one who killed them. But I know what did do it.”

  “Are they a threat to us?” Snow asked. “Do they stalk us as we walk? I don’t feel too good.”

  The prince stopped still at the double-doors to the city. He looked up at the red stained-glass, forcing all the Sentinels to turn blue across the city, even with the dragon threat above. He heard the roar of the commonfolk on the other side, then the booming orders of the Valan guards pushing them back. “We’ll have no issue with the monsters in the castle,” Stroke said. “The monster of Vatanil is dead. I must address my people, I will make them understand.”

  I hope he knows what he is doing. If the crowd turn on him, I could use it as an excuse to slaughter them, Death thought. Snow was frightened, and it made him feel protective. But if I fight the crowd, who will protect Snow? Do I trust this stranger to look after my companions while I battle? He is helpful, but as he said, I don’t know enough about him to judge him.

  “I will do the speaking,” Stroke said. “I will introduce you as my council to whoever remains once the dust settles.” He recited their names. “Time for a new world.”

  He placed a closed fist against the gap of the doors, forcing them open with a burst of magic from the God Arm. A swarm of angry fists crowded the staircase, yelling out a plethora of questions: Why did the Sentinels attack Keep Blacksteel? Where is King Godwin? Why aren’t the towers attacking the dragons?

  Then, the crowd gasped into silence. Killian Entrail sauntered to Stroke’s side with godsteel chains wrapped around his arms, leashes for his two pets—Fiasco and Mara, wobbling in place with snarls and growls. Mara’s skin was plagued with purple, bulbous tumours, her teeth like a hound’s and her fingernails the length of icicles. Her bones spiked out from her elbows, knees, and shoulders.

  Fiasco was far more monstrous than the whore. Her flesh grew outside of her form through methods of tentacle appendages, extra mouths and eyes, and vines of thick blood trailing her ankles. The eyes blinked on her forearms, neck, thigh, all her exposed skin was raw like burned skin. Her face had melted to the muscles, screaming in pain, eyes blankly white. Red runes and little zaps of lightning dashed around her long, broken fingers, her gifts fighting the ritual and worsening her condition ever couple of minutes.

  Both were monsters, and both were tethered to godsteel, sniffing the blood of the crowd for any that shown hostility, but they were really searching for their marked targets—Godwin and any from the group of Bianca’s Bastards.

  “Isn’t the girl who helped us?” Snow whispered to Death. “She was on our side, wasn’t she? Who is the other one?”

  That is the same girl, Death thought. I’d wager he knew her quite well. If he’s willing to do that to a soul that he knows…

  Death’s hand crept to his godsteel dagger. The Sentinels blared red, and Stroke turned quickly, putting a gentle yet firm hand onto Death’s wrist. “All is fine,” the prince told him. “You don’t need to kill the monsters. I have control of them.”

  I won’t be able to do anything with those damned magical eyes watching my every move. I need to be cautious. He can turn on me at any moment. I’m not sure how well I could far against the God Arm, Killian, and the Sentinels, which I hear the crowd claiming attacked the castle? That must be how Harren met his end. This is not good. I won’t be able to protect Snow if a fight breaks out. This is why I don’t trust people.

  His worry was showing through raised eyebrows. Snow locked her fingers in his. “I trust you,” she mouthed. “We all do.”

  “What hellish specimens you have,” Beion said. “Splendid job. Tears of the angel, I presume. I have seen many death rituals during my life. Aleirica had much practice on doomed souls using pebbles with no magic, none were quite as threatening as these.”

  “They are my cleansers,” Stroke said low. “They will help me reclaim this city. Fiasco may return, but the whore must die.”

  “The fuck is a cleaners supposed to mean, huh?” Vera asked. “You’re saying a whole lot of words and not a lot of sense.”

  The crowd grew larger. Children and teens sat atop the rooftops of their homes, eager to hear the prince’s words. He raised a fist and utilised the Sentinels in a way that they hadn’t been used in over a thousand years—the vortex flames turned lime, casting green glows throughout the streets. The fires throbbed with the prince’s breaths, beating like a heart, and the whole city heard Stroke’s voice booming from the dark centres.

  For a moment, the city was eerily still, even the dragons above halted their roars.

  “The nations are without kindness,” Stroke began. The people are without honour! The people are without respect! I’ll cleanse this world and rebirth it, layer fresh dirt over the filth so that flowers and innocence may bloom under my protection. Sins shall be ripped out like weeds, crime shall be punished with execution, and no mother shall shield her children’s eyes from the horrors of this world. I will bear the burdens of what must be done!”

  The crowd turned their angers into a roar of support.

  “This world is degenerate!” Stroke continued. “Lust, gluttony, greed, wrath, all of you are bound to sins against you will! Even in my own soul, they strike my deep, but no more! Runaya was the one they didn’t dare to touch, and now everybody must be like her.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the false flower he’d found in her hidden chest and let the storm take. “I ask you, is it a sin to love? Is it a sin to care? Is it a sin to pray night and day to marry and hold your newborn in the safety of your arms? A world where I must ask is one I don’t belong to, but unfortunately, I belong to this world whether I like it or not, and you do to. I deserve the right to have a chance just like the rest of you, royalty or not, happiness is mine by right and King Godwin never granted me that. By the end of this storm, Godwin shall be dead! I shall be the king, and I decree that all can marry whoever they want.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The people of Vatanil supported him. ‘King Stroke,’ they chanted. ‘First of his name, the true king.’

  But the young prince wasn’t impressed. He knew if they would so easily cast their opinion against Godwin, they wouldn’t be loyal, nor would they respect his rule.

  “Death, he worries me,” Snow whispered, ever so quiet. “I want to leave. I don’t feel well.”

  The Sentinels spoke in a voice that wasn’t Strokes. “All can marry who they want, but it shall be none of you,” Runaya’s voice said. “Not a single one.”

  The cheers turned to confusion.

  “You pigs spread false rumours,” Stroke continued. “You filthy vermin drove what was mine to an unthinkable fate. Every soul in this city is guilty. You took my only love. You took my future. You are guilty, your children are guilty… and you, Godwin, brother, I know you listen from afar, you are the guiltiest. I will rebuild this city from the foundations. I do not need the people.”

  A rogue Valan guard left the barricade and hurled a spear at the prince’s heart. It slammed into Stroke’s chest, bending like a stick and snapping in two. For the prince, it felt like he’s been struck by a single, insignificant pebble. He looked down at his skin, glowing gold from the power of the God Arm, making his flesh as hard as godsteel. He pointed at the guard with a closed-mouth grin. “I like that,” he whispered. “Initiative. Come forward and claim a spot in my personal guard in my new world. I need men who act on what they think is right.”

  Black-eyed owls flooded the rooftops, hooting and squawking. Death slowly moved his hand to move Snow behind him, giving her a commanding stare.

  “Good thing that wasn’t godsteel, right friends?” Stroke said to Death. “Are you all ready for a new order of power? What are you doing? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  This has gone on long enough. I am a conqueror. My willingness to let Snow’s soul bleed into mine has made me complacent. No more. Not now. I must let my past consume me; I must let my anger fester. I must find Godwin and get the other God Arm, it is the only way I can match the strength of such a gift. Stroke Valan is not my ally, he is insane.

  “Do you plan to kill this entire city?” Death hissed. “Your own friends, you turned to monsters. I can’t trust you.”

  “I freed you from that cell. I could’ve left you there. I understand your concerns… your instincts area telling you not to trust me, but I promise that you can. Don’t turn against me. Together, we can be a force, unstoppable.”

  “You want us to be your pawns.”

  “Allies,” Stroke corrected. “I can help you get back the power you’ve lost. I can bring you back to godhood. You must trust me.”

  “Ignore my fear,” Snow whispered. “That’s what you want. I want to see you as a god.”

  “Ah, I see,” Stroke said. “It’s the girl. You’re worried she’ll get hurt.”

  Was that the reason? Death wasn’t sure. Stroke, however, knew it was, and reached for Snow’s throat. The arm was smacked away, and Vera and Beion both protected her alongside Death.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’, huh?” Vera asked. “You can’t go putting your hands on whoever the fuck you want!”

  Stroke reached for her again, and Death struck him in the mouth with a hard strike. His gums bled, and he spat out a tooth. “Gods, that was a better strike than Harren could ever muster…”

  “You keep your hands to yourself,” Death snarled. He ordered the others to summon their weapons. “You aren’t my ally.”

  Stroke laughed. “What? No. Don’t you see what I was trying to do?” He quickly realised his actions appeared as if he was going to snap her neck. “Oh. No. Not that. I was going to take her somewhere safe, so she couldn’t get hurt. You have to believe that.”

  “I don’t,” Death growled. “Not one bit.”

  Stroke’s eyes widened and snapped to an empty space between Snow and Vera. He waved at the hollowness, smiling from ear to ear, then wiped his eyes with his palms, blinking heavily as he cocked his head.

  “Sorry, what were you saying?” he said. “No, no, that’s not what they said. These are my friends.” He looked at his hands and screamed, claiming they were covered in blood despite being completely clean. He laughed, striking himself in the jaw repeatedly until he fell silent with a dead-eyed stare at the crowd. “Do you see the way they look at us, Death? Like monkeys in cages. I didn’t mean to hurt your girl. I’d never do that. I’d never hurt someone you love. I would never. Black-eyed owls… traitor.”

  “Fiasco!” Quinn yelled from the crowd. He saw the monstrosity that his wife had become, roaring in rage. Zishang took his side with his naginata pointed at the prince. “Prince Stroke, what have you done to her?” He pushed against the Valan guards. “Damn you all, let me through, or I’ll kill all of you!”

  The guards restrained him and pinned him to the floor, forcing his mouth shut so he couldn’t summon any tridents or weapons. Zishang got through calmly, ascending the steps with a troubled look. “My prince?” he said. “What have you done?”

  Stroke looked at the ritual monsters. “I’m not a bad person, I’m not a terrible person,” he whispered. “I know. Runaya—stop it, stop shouting at me. I’m doing what you say.”

  “Death,” Snow whispered. “I command you to do what you think is right. We’ll stand by you.”

  Before Death could reach for his godsteel dagger, Fiasco and Mara saw Zishang before them, releasing a deafening screech. They clawed at their own necks, desperate to be free from the godsteel chains they were bound by.

  “Bloody dogs,” Killian grunted. “Listen to your king!”

  Fiasco struck Killian with a fleshy tentacle. The chain loosened, and both monsters were free. They launched at Zishang, who met their claws with the tip of his naginata. A blind flash lit the city in white, followed by a boom and waves of scorching heat. Stroke took it upon himself to shield the others from the heat with his God Arm, but it was still too much, Death and his companions fell into a deep sleep from the heat and sudden exhaustion.

  When all was done, Prince Stroke had gone. The Sentinels were all red, releasing fire into the sky to ward away the dragons, and a bloody mist had settled over the city—the crowed was filled with fresh corpses, most mauled, some charred black.

  Captain Zishang was nowhere to be seen. The Valan guards had fused with their armour, all dead. Captain Quinn had vanished and so had the two monsters. Death was first to wake, shaking Snow to consciousness and slapping the other two awake. They were all wet from the storm, their clothes soaking.

  “What the fuck was that?” Vera slurred. “I was having a nice dream of… fuckin’ gods, the city is on fire.”

  I have no idea what just happened, Death thought. I saw that mad prince protecting us from that flash… why would he do that? I do not see his body, nor the Cum Master’s.

  “Darlings, you didn’t notice, but you summoned your weapons,” Beion smirked. “The Sentinels aren’t blocking our gifts. I can get us out of this city. This isn’t our problem.”

  “We’ll do what Death thinks is right,” Snow said. “There are children in the city. We could help.”

  “Psh, since when does he give a shit about kids?” Vera laughed. “Fine. If he wants to help, we’ll help.”

  “I’m going to kill Stroke,” Death declared. “He has gone mad. I will need to face him later if I don’t face him now. I will find a way to get this godsteel dagger in his heart.”