Abyssborn: The Rise of the Cursed Monarch

The tavern was noisy, filled with coarse laughter, clinking glasses, and the thick scent of cheap beer. Kael, sitting in a dark corner, was still trying to figure out how he had ended up here.

Then, the door suddenly swung open, slamming violently against the wall. Two knights, clad in black armor bearing the crest of the Draven family, entered with determined steps. The atmosphere changed instantly. The chatter died down, and all eyes turned to them.

Without a word, they advanced toward a man sitting not far from Kael. He didn't even have time to react.

— SCHLING!

A sword was drawn, and in a swift, precise motion, one of the knights slit the man's throat. Blood splattered onto the table as the man collapsed, his eyes wide with shock.

A frozen silence settled. Then…

— HAAAA!

Panic erupted in the tavern. Patrons screamed and rushed toward the exit. Kael, however, remained frozen. Not because he was shocked by the scene—after all, he had seen worse in books—but because something strange was happening.

The man who had just died was not an ordinary mortal. A dark, malevolent energy began to seep from his corpse, swirling in the air like infernal smoke.

— Oh no… This isn't normal.

The demonic energy dispersed, but Kael felt a strange resonance within him. It was as if something inside his body was responding to this sinister aura. And suddenly, he understood.

He was made of that same energy.

His heart skipped a beat. He was the Cursed Monarch, infused with demonic energy, and if anyone discovered it… he would end up like that man, with a sword through his throat.

OKAY, DON'T PANIC. JUST… GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.

Kael sprang to his feet, bumping into a server and knocking over a mug of beer.

"Sorry, man, that wasn't on purpose!" he blurted out before sprinting toward the exit.

But just as he took three steps outside, a voice stopped him cold.

"Young master!"

Kael froze.

He slowly turned his head and saw a young woman in a maid's uniform running toward him. Her eyes were filled with relief… and admiration.

"We finally found you, young master Kael Draven!"

…

…

...

WAIT, WHAT?!

Kael blinked.

"Kael… Draven?"

He pointed a trembling finger at himself.

"Me?"

The maid nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, young master! You've been missing for days! The entire family has been searching for you!"

"The Draven family…? As in… the family that controls this territory?"

"Of course, young master! You are the heir to House Draven!"

Kael felt the ground vanish beneath his feet.

He wasn't just some random villain.

He was the son of the head of House Draven.

The son of one of the most powerful families in this world.

The son of a man who, according to the classic rules of a novel, would eventually die a horrible death, leaving Kael at the mercy of heroes and political schemes.

— SHIT.

"You must return home immediately, young master!" the maid insisted, gently grabbing his arm.

Kael instinctively pulled back.

"No, no, no, I think you've got the wrong guy, I'm not—"

Too late.

The maid grabbed his arm with surprising strength and started dragging him away.

"Wait, wait! At least let me grab one last beer!"

"Absolutely not, young master. Your place is at the Draven manor."

"And what if I refuse?"

"Your father will be informed that you fled your home."

Kael stopped dead.

"...Okay, let's go calmly. No need to report anything to anyone."

He had no choice.

He was now officially Kael Draven, heir to a powerful family, bearer of demonic energy, and a potential target of a thousand deadly schemes.

And all he wanted was to get the hell out of here.

… But apparently, that was no longer an option.

The maid led him through the streets of Adelia, and Kael could see the way passersby's gazes changed when they recognized him. Some whispered. Others bowed respectfully.

Kael forced a smile.

"Okay… Let's see where this takes me. But I have a bad feeling about this."

And he was right to be afraid.

Because the nightmare was only just beginning.

Kael walked through the cobblestone streets of Adelia, forcibly dragged by the maid who had a grip like that of a golem. He hadn't even had time to recover from the shock.

He was Kael Draven. The heir of a family of holy knights.

…

AND HE WAS LITERALLY A DEMONIC BEING.

"This is a joke, right?" he muttered to himself.

But the gigantic fortress before him proved otherwise.

The Draven Manor.

No, in fact, "manor" was an understatement. It was a castle. A massive castle made of white stone and gold, with banners bearing a sacred crest fluttering in the wind.

And in front of the main entrance…

Kael felt his soul leave his body.

Knights.

But not just any knights.

Each man here radiated an overwhelming presence, as if they were living statues of power.

Their armor gleamed in the sunlight, and their very existence was enough to make it feel like they could wipe out an entire country in a few hours.

Kael swallowed hard.

"I'm in the wrong family. Send me back."

"Young Master Kael has returned!" announced the maid enthusiastically.

All the knights turned their gaze toward him.

Kael felt his back become soaked in sweat.

But instead of piercing him with their eyes, the knights knelt on one knee.

"Welcome home, Young Master."

Kael blinked.

"Wait, what?"

"We are honored by your return, Lord Kael."

Kael opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

"Uh… yeah, I'm also… happy to be here…?"

The maid cleared her throat.

"Young Master, your mother is waiting for you."

"My mother?!"

He wasn't ready.

He was not ready.

A Few Moments Later, in the Manor's Hall…

Kael found himself seated on a luxurious velvet armchair, his palms sweaty.

In front of him, sitting with an imposing grace on a carved wooden throne, was the Matriarch of the Draven family.

His mother.

A woman of cold beauty, with long silver hair and piercing golden eyes. Dressed in a white gown adorned with gold, she exuded a divine aura that made Kael tremble in his boots.

Beside her sat a young girl, her face stern.

His sister.

She appeared to be about his age and shared the same silver hair. However, unlike their mother, she looked at him as if he were a fugitive criminal.

Kael gulped.

"You disappeared for several days, Kael."

His mother's voice was calm. Too calm.

"I'm relieved to see you again, but…"

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"I'd like to know why you left without informing anyone."

Kael opened his mouth, searching for a valid excuse.

Option 1: "I was kidnapped by bandits." → Impossible. He had no injuries and was in perfect health.

Option 2: "I lost my memory and wandered around not knowing who I was." → Too cliché.

Option 3: "I wanted to explore the world and become stronger." → … Okay, that might work.

Kael took a deep breath and put on a confident smile.

"Mother, the truth is…"

His sister immediately interrupted him.

"It doesn't matter what the reason is. What matters is that he receives the blessing of the Pope immediately."

Kael blinked.

"Pardon ?"

His sister crossed her arms.

"You've always been weak, Kael. You've never had the sacred aura of the Dravens. It's a disgrace to our lineage."

Kael felt his ego get stabbed.

"But it's not too late. With the Pope's blessing, perhaps you'll finally awaken your true potential as a holy knight."

Kael fought to keep from screaming.

"A BLESSING FROM THE POPE?! A DIVINE BEING WHO DETECTS DEMONIC ENERGIES?! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET ME EXECUTED OR WHAT?!"

He forced himself to laugh nervously.

"Ahah… uh, actually, I don't think it's necessary—"

His mother raised her hand, cutting off his excuse.

"Kael, your father and your brothers have gone to purify the land of demon-infested humans."

— "Great, great… good luck to them, really." Kael replied, trying to hide his panic.

"But you are my son. And as long as you are here, you will follow the Draven tradition."

She leaned slightly toward him, and her gaze became more intense.

"You will go to the Holy Kingdom to receive the Pope's blessing."

Kael felt his soul leave his body.

"But I'm really fine as I am."

"This is not a request, Kael."

His sister nodded, satisfied.

"We need to know if you are truly a Draven or not."

Kael was on the verge of tears.

"That's it. I'm done for. They're going to discover me, and I'll be dead before Chapter 10."

But he couldn't say no.

He had to find a way to avoid this nightmare.

Or, failing that…

A way to survive.

Kael wandered through the vast halls of the Draven Manor, his mind in turmoil. The heavy atmosphere, laden with family honor and responsibilities, only worsened his anxiety. He had no time to properly think about the Pope's blessing or his sister, who seemed more serious than a Monday morning. All he wanted was to sneak into his room, close the door, and hope this nightmare would end in... a few centuries.

But fate, it seemed, didn't agree.

As he turned the corner of a hallway, he came face to face with a man in imposing armor, arms crossed, brow furrowed, and a military mustache that seemed to have a will of its own.

The Captain of the Knights.

The kind of guy who looked like he stepped right out of a "Mysterious and Super Serious Knights" manual.

"Young Master Kael, it seems we haven't met yet. I am the Captain of the Draven Knights, and I ask that you join me in the training hall."

Kael froze. He made a desperate attempt to appear casual.

"Ah, well, training's not really my thing, you know? I prefer... books." He smiled nervously.

The captain stared at him, impassive, arms still crossed. He didn't seem to understand the gravity of the situation.

"Books are a form of discipline, yes. But nothing beats a good fight to forge a knight's soul."

"Ah... yes, of course, but actually, I have something to do... you know, a family emergency? I need to... take care of something—"

Too late.

Kael realized he had made a fatal mistake: he had tried to escape the dreadful situation by mentioning… his sister.

"A family emergency? Is that an excuse to avoid training, young master?" The captain frowned.

Kael sighed, realizing he would never get out of this conversation. The captain, apparently unshakeable, didn't seem ready to let him off the hook. Then, in a moment of desperate genius, Kael suddenly turned toward a nearby door.

"Oh, but wait, I think this is it... it's my sister's room, she asked me to help her... uh, organize books!"

The captain didn't even have time to react before Kael rushed into the room at full speed, almost throwing himself into the room like a cat fleeing from a dog. But before he could close the door, he made sure to leave the captain with one last confusing sentence.

"I... I'm going to... look for books to organize, you know... they're very... important books."

The door slammed shut.

Inside the room, Kael stopped dead and took a deep breath. He couldn't even believe he had just done that.

The problem was, his sister's room wasn't exactly what he had imagined.

The walls were covered in knight medals, paintings of dragons, and battle trophies. And all of it, he knew, belonged to his sister. She had an unhealthy obsession with knights and heroism. Kael couldn't help but wonder if one day, he'd have to give her an "Honorable Mention for Escapes" medal.

He sighed and flopped onto a bed that looked anything but comfortable. At that moment, he heard a dull noise from the hallway.

"Oh no... is he coming after me again?"

Kael's gaze fell on a strange object resting on the table: an old knight's sword, probably a family trophy.