Chapitre 10: Chapter 9 : Unveiled Star, Prince of Frost
Novus Lux, the capital of the Chromium Empire, had plunged into chaos beneath the eerie crimson moons. Once bustling streets had transformed into a horrifying spectacle. In the midst of this turmoil, Captain Alaric of the 1st Order stood unwavering at the forefront, his voice piercing through the chaos.
"Spread out, everyone! Leave no one behind!" His command echoed, rallying his loyal subordinates around him. They nodded with unwavering determination, mirroring his resolve. Their hearts resonated with his words, finding solace in his strong leadership.
"Don't let those sinister voices cloud your judgment!" he continued, his voice resolute.
The 1st Order soldiers dispersed, showcasing their well-practiced discipline as they navigated the city's labyrinthine streets with precision. Their mission beneath the crimson moons was clear: locate and rescue the unaffected citizens, a beacon of hope in the face of the malevolent influence gripping the empire's capital.
As they moved through the city, they encountered the corrupted—former citizens lost to madness. These pitiable souls, with vacant eyes and erratic movements, advanced menacingly toward the soldiers. Captain Alaric and his soldiers, adorned in the distinctive Imperial Order armor, held their ground, weapons poised and hearts heavy.
"Stay steady, everyone! Remember your training," Alaric called out, his voice unwavering, a pillar of support for his soldiers. He raised his gleaming sword, its blade shimmering eerily in the crimson light. His comrades encircled the civilians, resolute in the face of encroaching madness as they aimed to save them.
The ensuing battles were intense and heart-wrenching. Each encounter with the corrupted tested the soldiers' determination to protect their people. However, not all the soldiers found it easy to end these lives, for these were once fellow citizens of the empire they swore to defend.
One of Alaric's subordinates couldn't bring himself to deliver a fatal blow. His voice trembled as tears welled in his eyes.
"Captain, I can't bring myself to do it... They were once human, citizens of our empire," he stammered, his inner turmoil laid bare.
Another soldier, filled with desperation, their furrowed brows and clenched fists revealing the inner turmoil. They whispered to Alaric, their voice quivering with a mix of despair and hope. "Captain, there must be another way, something we can do to save them without taking their lives."
Alaric keenly understood his subordinates' anguish. Ending the lives of those who were once their own people weighed heavily on their hearts.
Alaric took a moment to think, his brows furrowed in deep contemplation, and his eyes held a weary but determined glint. He wished there were an alternative, his heart heavy with the weight of their choices. "I truly wish there were another way," he said with sincerity. "But right now, we don't know how to help them. Our main focus has to be on keeping our citizens safe. If we discover a way to save them later on, we will. But for now, our mission is to protect the living and make sure they are safe."
The soldiers understood, their expressions reflecting a mixture of acceptance and sadness.
In all his years of service, this was the first time Alaric had witnessed the malevolent radiance of these moons, a phenomenon previously confined to tales and legends. He wondered what was truly happening with the world.
With no other options, Captain Alaric of the 1st Order continued to lead his men through the blood-soaked streets, determined to rescue as many citizens as possible and to unveil the mystery behind this nightmarish catastrophe that had befallen their beloved capital.
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The vast capital of the Chromium Empire was filled with millions of people, all living under the constant danger of the sinister crimson moons, which steadily ate away at their sanity. Evacuating so many citizens was a huge challenge, especially because the soldiers had varying levels of determination. Captain Alaric saw this mission as a test not only of physical strength but also of his mental strength. He had to fight against the whispers that tempted him with his deepest desires and stirred his hidden greed.
In the middle of their mission to rescue the citizens, one of Alaric's soldiers suddenly shrieked in agony. His anguished cry reverberated through the streets, and he gasped, "Arrrgghh! Make it stop! My mind... it's telling me to kill!" His comrades rushed to restrain him firmly, determined to keep him from succumbing to the madness that threatened to consume him completely.
The 1st Order division had a well-earned reputation for competence within the Imperial Order, and Captain Alaric bore the weight of that reputation on his shoulders. As their leader, he not only needed to ensure the mission's success but also safeguard the well-being of his men. Watching one of his own soldiers fall victim to the relentless madness of the crimson moons strained his resolve.
"Captain, what should we do in this situation? It seems impossible to save the citizens," voiced one of his men, articulating the concern that gripped them all.
As their comrade succumbed to the relentless grip of madness, a fall of despair settled over them. If one could fall so swiftly, what hope remained for the rest?
Alaric made a quick, firm decision. He summoned one of his subordinates, Julian Wester, with unwavering determination in his eyes.
"Julian Wester!" Alaric's voice cut through the chaos.
"Yes, Captain!" Julian replied, showing his readiness.
"Proceed to Captain Orwen Stark of the 2nd Order," Alaric instructed, and Julian hesitated as he grasped the implications of involving another captain from a different division.
"But... Captain, that would mean we—"
Before Julian could finish his sentence, Alaric interrupted him firmly. "We have no choice. I can't let pride and selfishness lead to the loss of our division's soldiers."
Julian understood the gravity of the situation, nodded, and saluted his captain before preparing to carry out the order. But suddenly, a dramatic drop in temperature surprised them all.
"Captain, something is amiss. The temperature is dropping rapidly," Julian reported, his breath visible in the cold air.
Alaric, too, felt the drastic change as the chilling cold enveloped them. His breath formed frosty clouds, and he turned to see the source of this abrupt change.
A figure approached on a white horse, dressed in the Imperial Order's military uniform. As they drew closer, Alaric recognized the rider—it was Theron Frostweaver, the young bishop of the Church of the Divine Storm and one of his former subordinates.
Theron looked at the Imperial Order soldiers and then met Alaric's gaze with an almost condescending smile. "It has been a while, my dear Captain," he greeted.
Alaric sensed that Theron took some pleasure in their predicament and chose not to escalate the situation further, addressing the bishop formally. "Indeed, Sir Theron."
Theron's smirk widened. "Ah, it's rather pleasant to hear you address me by my current rank."
Julian and the other soldiers struggled to conceal their annoyance at Theron's arrogance.
"It appears you have come to aid the citizens," Alaric remarked.
Theron responded with a nonchalant shrug. "Not precisely my primary objective. Chief Noxis requested my assistance."
Alaric was taken aback. "Chief Noxis requested your assistance?"
Theron maintained his provocative demeanor. "Oh, the old man seemed quite agitated. He even sent his lovely rat to my chambers," referring to Selene's visit.
Unlike Selene, Alaric restrained himself in the face of Theron's provocations.
Theron shifted his gaze away from Alaric and fixed it upon the crimson moons. The madness radiating from them had also affected him, but he'd been traversing the city, enveloping it in a temporary frost to restrain both the citizens and the corrupted.
"It's best for you all to seek refuge now. I'm about to encase the entire capital in ice," Theron declared, his tone indifferent.
Alaric disagreed. "What do you mean? Are you going to trap all the citizens in ice?"
He pressed further, "You're well aware that some may not survive hypothermia when released from your ice prison!"
Theron's reply was nonchalant. "If they die, then so be it. I have no concern for such matters.
Julian, unable to contain his frustration, spoke out, "How can you be so cavalier when it involves lives? Isn't it the Church's duty to protect the followers of the God of Storm?"
Alaric joined in, equally disturbed by Theron's callousness, which seemed to dismiss the potential casualties caused by his actions.
Theron let out a sigh, his breath turning to frost in the cold air, and continued, "To avoid freezing, seek refuge or find shelter inside a building! My ice will only cover the outer areas; it won't harm those already within a structure."
Alaric, still deeply concerned for the citizens' safety, pressed Theron further. "What about those who can't reach shelter in time? We can't disregard the potential harm this may cause."
Theron's response was measured yet unwavering. "Captain Alaric, you may underestimate the madness that has gripped our people. The crimson moons have pushed them to the brink of insanity. I'm doing what's necessary to prevent further violence and chaos. Sometimes, sacrificing a few lives is a bitter but unavoidable choice for the greater good."
Julian and the other soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, they feel terrible with the fact to sacrificing a few lives for greater good. Their souls as a soldiers scream inside their heart.
Alaric, still grappling with the moral dilemma, turned to Theron once more. "Very well, Sir Theron. But I urge you to be cautious and compassionate in your actions."
Theron nodded, acknowledging Alaric's plea. "I will do what is required. The Church and the Imperial Order may have different methods, but our ultimate aim is the same—to safeguard our people and maintain order. Sometimes, our paths must intersect."
Theron gaze at the soldiers and Alaric as they leaving to seek refuge while also carrying those citizen with them.
With determination, Theron directed his focus toward the city, ready to put his icy plan into action. As he rode through the city streets on his horse, a layer of ice spread, covering everything in its path. The citizens of the empire, whether they were corrupted or not, became frozen solid under his power. He continued freezing until nothing remained untouched. His icy blue eyes shone with intensity as he wielded his abilities, and his snow-white hair fluttered in the wind as he urged his horse to move faster.
The capital had undergone a dramatic transformation into an ice-covered city, bathed in the eerie red glow of the crimson moon. All those within the city found themselves trapped in Theron's chilling prison of ice.
Inside the capital's buildings, people huddled together, their breath forming frosty clouds in the chilly air. They watched in a mix of astonishment and fear as Theron Frostweaver, the young bishop, demonstrated his formidable power. Some gasped at the awe-inspiring spectacle, while others silently uttered prayers to the God of Storm for protection.
As Theron's icy influence continued to spread across the city, those lucky enough to be indoors felt a blend of relief and anxiety. They were grateful to be shielded from the biting cold and encroaching ice, yet they couldn't help but worry about the fate of those left outside.
In one building, a mother held her child close, her gaze fixed on the frost-covered windowpane as she offered soothing words. "Don't be afraid, my dear. The bishop will keep us safe from this madness."
In another gathering, a group of citizens clustered around a makeshift hearth, their anxious expressions mirroring the uncertainty of the situation. "I've never witnessed anything like this," one of them remarked, shaking his head in disbelief.
Outside, the streets and buildings had been transformed into an icy landscape, a testament to Theron's extraordinary abilities. The capital had become a surreal, frozen world, a stark contrast to the chaos and madness that had threatened to engulf it just moments ago.
Inside his dimly lit room, the window began to frost over, the chill in the air seeping through. The mysterious man sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in an attempt to quell the madness that gnawed at his mind. Slowly, he opened his eyes and cast a glance at the frosted windowpane. The temperature in the room continued to drop, and a faint smile played on the man's lips as he felt the cold creep in.
With a composed demeanor, he rang a small bell to summon his servant. "Please bring me some hot chocolate," he instructed, his voice carrying an air of satisfaction.
As the servant hurried to fulfill the request, the mysterious man leaned back in his chair, his thoughts focused on the events unfolding outside. He spoke to himself with a wry smile, "I can't say today is an unlucky day. First, I had the chance to witness a truly captivating showdown, and now the puppet of the God of Storm is showcasing his abilities to the world."
He chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with intrigue. "It's turning out to be quite an entertaining night, indeed."
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The capital city was now blanketed in ice, an unprecedented sight in its history. Once vibrant buildings stood frozen, their beauty hidden beneath layers of crystalline frost. The streets, once bustling with activity, had turned eerily quiet, their cobblestones concealed under a thick coat of glacial ice. Even the majestic imperial palace, a symbol of the empire's grandeur, was not spared. Its grand spires and opulent facades had been sheathed in ice, shimmering in the eerie glow of the crimson moons.
Inside the palace, in the richly adorned royal chambers with silk tapestries and opulent furnishings, Crown Prince Aiden de Valerian sat at an elaborate desk. His typically composed demeanor was marred by furrowed brows and troubled eyes as he carefully read through scrolls detailing the capital's dire situation. With each passing moment, his concern deepened, and the weight of his responsibilities as the heir to the throne bore down on him.
He looked out of the palace window, observing the encroaching radiance of the crimson moons that seemed to cast the entire capital into madness. His mind raced as he grappled with the severity of the crisis and the dire circumstances his people faced.
Amidst his thoughts, a polite but firm knock at the chamber's door interrupted him. A calm yet authoritative voice followed, "Your Highness, may I enter?"
Crown Prince Aiden raised his gaze from the scrolls and nodded, granting permission.
The door opened, revealing Royal Counselor Albert Weiss. He wore the emblem of the royal council, and his expression mirrored the gravity of the situation. He approached the desk, his measured steps echoing on the polished marble floor.
"Your Highness," Albert began, his voice steady and his gaze unwavering, "I bring the latest report on the situation in the capital."
Crown Prince Aiden leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "Please, go on."
Albert unfolded a parchment, handling it with care. Urgency and concern colored his voice as he relayed the grim details. "The entire capital, including our imperial palace, is frozen. Citizens are struggling to find shelter, and many are in a state of panic. The Church's bishop, Theron Frostweaver, has intervened to restore some order, but the scale of this crisis is unparalleled."
Crown Prince Aiden listened intently, his expression growing graver with each word. "Please, continue. What is the full extent of the situation, Counselor?"
Albert nodded thoughtfully. "The Church's intentions are not entirely clear, Your Highness. They claim to use the young bishop's power to contain the corrupted citizens until the crimson moons recede with the dawn."
Crown Prince Aiden leaned back in his chair, his fingers forming a steeple as he contemplated the information. "Our priority must be the safety of our people and the preservation of order within the capital. Since His Majesty has not responded to the current crisis, it falls to us to act. Albert, assist the Imperial Order in any way necessary to secure the capital."
Albert bowed in acknowledgment. "As you wish, Your Highness. I will carry out your orders diligently."
As the royal counselor left the room to fulfill his duties, Crown Prince Aiden remained lost in thought. Doubt began to creep into his mind, wondering if he was truly capable of governing his people during these dire times. He couldn't help but miss his older sister, Princess Rosaline, who had been sent away by His Majesty order, her whereabouts unknown to him. He longed for her wisdom and support, wishing she were by his side in these troubled moments.
"I wish you were here, sis," Aiden whispered softly, his voice filled with longing as he thought of his sister, Princess Rosaline.
=====++++=====++++=====++++=====++++=====+++Author's note : Hello my dear readers. If you read this note, I want to say thank you so much. I'm late on my schedule, I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It seem we don't see Lucias and friends on this chapter or perhaps they are also in difficulty by the madness.
Some trivia for you guys. You might remember the character name, Lionheart. Well her actual name its actually Rosaline. It was named after the beautiful flower, Rose. There might be a reason why she thrown away her birth name. Also I wonder if she and her crew mates is doing well...
See you next week, my dear readers! This chapter does not include the usual poem on author's thought section because I don't prepare any HA HA HA.
If you found any typo or inconsistency please let me know. I only double read this chapter before published.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone