Lord of the Foresaken

Blood sprayed across the stone floor.

The young noble barely had time to scream before Shia's dagger slashed across his throat. His hands clutched at the wound, eyes wide with shock as he crumpled to the ground. Silence fell over the Summoning Hall—a moment of frozen disbelief.

Then, chaos erupted.

"He killed a lord!" someone shouted.

"Guards! Stop him!"

Nobles stumbled backward, shoving each other to escape. The air crackled with magic as defensive spells flared to life. Half a dozen armored guards surged toward Reed, swords drawn.

But Reed had already moved.

"Shia, take the right," he ordered.

She didn't hesitate.

Shia lunged, her small frame a blur of movement. A guard swung at her, but she ducked, rolled beneath his blade, and drove a dagger into his ribs. He choked on his own blood as she twisted the weapon and wrenched it free.

Reed didn't stand idle. He grabbed the falling guard's sword mid-drop and slashed upward, catching another in the throat. His movements were sharp, efficient—no wasted motion. He didn't fight like a trained knight. He fought like a killer.

Another guard came for him. He threw his stolen sword. The man instinctively raised his shield—exactly what Reed wanted.

He closed the distance before the guard could recover, snatching a dagger from Shia's belt. A quick step. A thrust to the gap in the armor beneath the arm. The guard stiffened, then collapsed.

Reed exhaled slowly.

It had been less than ten seconds, and three bodies already lay at his feet.

The remaining guards hesitated now.

But the nobles?

They were terrified.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Lords were meant to duel with honor, to command their heroes from a safe distance. They weren't supposed to fight like monsters.

Reed rolled his shoulders. His eyes flicked to the grand mage who had overseen the ceremony, standing frozen on the high dais. The old man finally snapped out of his shock and raised a trembling hand.

"Enough!" His voice boomed with authority, enhanced by magic. "Reed of the Slums, you have committed treason against the sacred rites of the Lords! Surrender now, or face immediate execution!"

Reed wiped blood from his cheek and tilted his head.

"Execution, huh?" He glanced at Shia. She stood at his side, eyes calm, weapons ready. Completely unfazed by the slaughter. Completely loyal to him.

Good.

Then he looked back at the nobles. The ones who had laughed at him. The ones who still thought they were safe.

He grinned.

"Try it."