An Unwritten Story [LitRPG, Evil MCs]

Inside the throne room of Cyradis’ castle, King Manus sat upon his throne, a figure carved from cold iron and shadow. His left hand gripped the armrest of the seat with white-knuckled force, while his right rested on the pommel of his sword.-

“Fain, tell me exactly what happened,” he demanded, his voice a low, resonant roll of thunder that vibrated through the floorboards. “How did the city become a graveyard of ash?”

Count Fain stood in the center of the throne room, his eyes darting with a terror that clawed at his throat.

He was a man standing in the shadow of a hidden gallows; if he spoke of the healers he had surrendered to the mysterious woman, the Soul Contract would snap tight, reaping his life before he could finish the sentence.

It was the bitter crossroads: life or loyalty, the selfish pull of the pulse or the selfless dignity of the grave.

Beside Fain stood Kaito, his fists clenched so tightly they trembled, his eyes filled with the weight of fallen pride. Next to him, Sayon maintained a neutral mask, her cyan eyes sleepy and distant, betraying nothing of the thoughts swirling behind them.

To Fain’s left, Souka was a lightning rod for repressed fury, her fists balled as she stared at the marble floor with eyes that scorched the stone. Next to her was Hana; after her desperate, failed struggle to drag a classmate back, she had become a hollow shell, her gaze reflecting nothing but despair and a total loss of hope.

“Your Majesty! It’s him! It’s that bastard!” Souka’s voice erupted, her mouth wide as she lost the battle with her own composure.

“Souka!” Manus’ voice boomed, striking the air like a hammer on an anvil. “Calm down and tell me the story slowly. Anger is a blunt tool that will not carve a path to the truth.”

The command acted like a physical blow, breaking Souka’s outburst instantly. She forced her breathing to steady and looked at Fain, wordlessly pleading for him to bridge the gap between their survival and the King’s judgment.

Fain gave a short, solemn nod.

He had spent years analyzing the way Manus controlled this kingdom through logic and cold authority, and now he knew which path he had to take—life or loyalty.

“Your Majesty,” he began, his voice dropping into a steady drone. “The red dragon reported to be dwelling in the forest bordering our kingdom... it arrived that day and began its campaign of destruction.” He moved his hand in a sweeping motion.

“I am aware of that part, Fain. That was why I dispatched Kaito’s group to handle the beast.” Manus folded his arms and leaned back into the shadows of his throne, his eyes narrowing.

If you knew of its power, why did you only send four heroes to face it? Have you never truly looked into the eyes of a dragon, my king? Fain’s mind screamed the question he would never dare speak.

“After the dragon began its assault, suddenly a man appeared amidst the fire and started fighting it alone.”

“What?! Someone challenged a dragon alone?” Elear, the head mage, shouted from his station, his old hands clutching his staff. “Did he seek a glorious death, or was he simply a fool?”

Fain looked at Elear and then turned back toward Manus before continuing. “Just after the fight started, a woman also rushed into my office. She demanded a Soul Contract with two conditions in exchange for defeating the dragon.”

“A Soul Contract… and what were these conditions?” Manus asked, resting his hand on his chin as he sensed a complexity he hadn't anticipated.

“Forgive me, my liege. I cannot speak of the conditions because of the contract itself.”

...If one condition prevented him from discussing the contract, Marnus thought, then the second must concern the woman herself. Her identity, perhaps.

“…Continue,” he said, accepting the silence.

“After I accepted the terms, we headed to the city to see how the battle was unfolding. And then…” Fain let the silence hang, a curtain before the final revelation.

…

“So you’re saying he defeated the dragon all by himself?!” Elear’s shout was a mix of disbelief and professional insult, his staff thudding against the marble.

“And the man you are talking about…” Manus looked toward Kaito, the leader who had failed where one man had succeeded.

“It’s Noa. That piece of shit from four years ago,” Kaito muttered. The name left his mouth like a curse, flavored with the bitterness of his own bruised ego.

“…What?” Even the always composed Manus was taken aback.

The boy with no system? The one we discarded defeated a dragon that would have taken my four heroes to kill? He sat back, the words echoing in the chamber like a ghost that had finally found its way home. No… something is missing here.

“And the woman? What were her features?” he asked, leaning forward.

“White, shining hair. Piercing crimson eyes. She was gorgeous,” Sayon answered, her voice a flat, hollow drone. “They seemed to be in a close relationship.”

Manus stared at Sayon for several seconds, portraits of a lineage with the said features appearing at the edge of his consciousness.

White hair… crimson eyes… no, it can't be. He immediately denied the possibility. Crimvane is currently in a war of survival; there is no way their ruler has the time to be here. It must be someone else.

He had already accepted Crimvane’s defeat to Aurelyth. To him, the royal house of Crimvane was already a memory.

“They also took the dragon with them after its defeat,” Kaito spoke, his voice sharpening with a mixture of shame and resentment. “But they left a message for… you, Your Majesty.”

Manus snapped back from his inner thoughts and narrowed his eyes. “Deliver the message.”

“He said…” Kaito paused, his own pride stinging as he channeled the weight of Noa’s arrogance. “He said that he would come here to pay Your Majesty a visit personally.”

“…What?”

Just a second after Manus muttered in surprise at the gall of the threat, the massive doors of the throne room burst open with a sound like a thunderclap. A man entered the room at a frantic sprint—the Royal Envoy of Cyradis.

He ignored the etiquette of the court, his noble robes sweeping the ground as he knelt quickly before the throne. “Your Majesty, forgive me for my rudeness, but there is important news!”

“Important news…?” Manus’ face tightened. “Very well, you may speak.”

“The war between the kingdoms of Aurelyth and Crimvane ended yesterday. And henceforth, the three kingdoms will merge together and be—”

“So Aurelyth even defeated Eryndor and Crimvane?” Manus mused as he mapped out the new borders. “They might be a threat later on, but a unified Aurelyth is a beast we can tame.”

As he spoke, he realized the envoy’s head was sinking lower, his shoulders trembling with a shock that bordered on terror.

“No, Your Majesty,” the envoy whispered, the words sounding alien even to his own ears. “Aurelyth was defeated by Crimvane. Eryndor has surrendered its crown and agreed to work under Crimvane’s throne. As of this moment, the three kingdoms are one, known as… Crimvane.”

The throne room fell into a silence that made it feel like a tomb. The impossible had occurred: the dying kingdom had risen from its sickbed and devoured the predators that had come to finish it.

“What!? Aurelyth and Eryndor fell to Crimvane?” Elear shouted, his staff clattering against his robes. “Just how?!”

“Is this information true?” Manus still maintained his composure, but his grip on his sword hilt tightened until the metal groaned under the pressure.

“Yes, Your Majesty. It is the truth.”

How? How did the weakest of the three emerge as the master of all? Manus could only stare at the impossible turn, the confusion of a master suddenly realizing he had lost control of the board. Did we have misinformation, or has the world truly gone mad?

Even if Crimvane had grown that powerful, it was still comparable to Cyradis, and he had the heroes. But as a sudden thought took over his mind, his gaze drifted back to Kaito.

The man who killed the dragon...

“You are all dismissed,” he ordered, extending his hand.

---

After the order was given, the four who had returned from Cerma exited the throne room, their footsteps echoing through the long, vaulted hallway.

As they walked, the silhouettes of a crowd began to form at the end of the corridor.

“Here they are!” a woman shouted, and a wave of movement followed.

It was their classmates—the other ‘heroes’ who had stayed behind, their faces bright with the pride of those who had never tasted true defeat. They swarmed around the returning group, their questions a chaotic buzz of ignorance.

“Hey Kaito, what happened to Cerma?” A man tapped Kaito on the shoulder with a grin. “Did you guys actually fail your mission, dude?”

Beside them, a woman skipped toward Hana, clutching papers and books in her hands as she waved.

“Hana, got a minute—” Noticing the expression in Hana’s eyes, her steps slowed and her words died out. “Wait… why are you crying? Hana?”

“Hey, what’s with the expression, Souka?”

The friends and classmates pressed in, their voices light and carefree, entirely unaware of the blood that had been spilled or the power that had been unleashed.

Then, as Aoi stared at the throne room doors, waiting for one other person to emerge, they clicked shut.

“Hey… where’s Riku?” she muttered, her eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, I was wondering that too.” Another scratched the back of his head as he stared at Kaito. “Did he get hurt and go to the infirmary? I mean… it is a dragon after all.”

They had lived in a dream for four years, pampered by the King and their systems and fueled by the belief that they were the protagonists of this world. They didn't understand that even a weakened dragon was a force of nature.

Kaito simply stared at the white wall without speaking a word. Souka’s head dropped, her fists clenching. No one expected an answer from Sayon.

Then, after seconds of agonizing silence, Hana’s mouth opened slightly.

“He’s… dead. He… he killed him.” Her voice was a broken whisper, a thread of sound that barely survived the air.

“…What?” someone asked in confusion, their smirk faltering. “What did you just say?”

Then suddenly, Hana snapped her head up toward the group of onlookers, sending shivers through their bodies. Her eyes were no longer the eyes of a girl; they were windows into a void of despair and hopelessness.

“HE’S DEAD! NOA KILLED HIM!” Her scream tore through the hallway like the cries of the dying, a raw sound that silenced the entire castle wing.

“Hana, calm down!” Aoi stepped forward, grabbing Hana’s shoulders with both hands. “Calm down and tell us what happened. You’re talking about Noa?”

Hana slowly collapsed to her knees, her strength leaving her like water from a cracked jar. Aoi followed her down, supporting her. Hana’s hands trembled as she covered her face, as if she could hide from the memory of the blood.

“Noa, that bastard, killed Riku. He’s gone,” Kaito finally answered, striking the wall with a clenched fist.

“Noa…? He’s actually alive?” Aoi looked up, her eyes widening. She had barely believed Noa was even alive, let alone capable of this.

“What?” the man next to Kaito shouted. “How could he kill Riku…!”

They had lived in a dream for four years, and Noa was the nightmare that had come to wake them up.

“How dare that piece of shit?” One of the girls who had a crush on Riku clenched her fist. “He’s a murderer!”

“I knew it,” Souka spoke from the side. “We should have made sure he was dead four years ago. He was a monster even then!”

And so, the echo chamber of their self-righteous anger roared to life, drowning out their own guilt.

Sayon stared down at the crying Hana below as she listened to the classmates who had been eager to throw Noa to the wolves four years ago, and who now spoke of ‘fairness’ and ‘justice’ as if they had ever practiced either.

Her sleepy, cyan eyes shifted from their usual apathy to an expression of disgust and pity.

In the end… we are all just pitiful scum with different kinds of imagination. Just accept who you are.

Her gaze drifted toward the high windows where the sun was beginning to set.

…Just like he did.

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