Crimson: born as noble lived as phantom

I woke up, my head pounding.

Why am I sleeping? Where is Grim?

I looked around the familiar, chaotic workshop. I was back inside Grim's hut.

“Looks like you’re finally awake,” Grim said, entering the room. In his hands, he carried something that looked suspiciously like a severed dragon’s head.

“How long was I out? What happened?” I asked, completely ignoring the monstrosity in his arms.

“For about two days. You certainly outdid yourself, kid. Seriously, I thought you'd be sleeping for months.”

“What happened to Quina? Is she alive?”

“She is,” Grim replied, setting the dragon's head on his workbench. “But things between the Blood Kingdom and Krane have gotten infinitely more tangled.”

"And why is that?”

“Because Krane is claiming that a masked assassin was sent by the Blood Kingdom to execute Princess Quina.”

“Well, that is possible,” I muttered. “Those Nemesis cloaks looked like foreign mercenaries.”

“I'm talking about you, genius. They think you were the assassin.”

“What? No, I was protecting her!”

“Listen to this,” Grim said, pulling a crumpled newspaper from his pocket and reading the front page aloud:

“A terrorist calling himself 'The Crimson Card' infiltrated the palace on the night of the royal absence. Utilizing stolen high-grade explosives and unauthorized cloaking blades, his explicit goal was to assassinate Princess Quina.

Fortunately, Sage Rigger—one of the four chosen Sages of the Sacred Soul—was conducting a secret inspection at the royal church. Hearing the explosions, the Sage rushed to the scene and engaged the terrorist. After failing to bypass the Sage's holy defenses with dirty tricks, the terrorist threw the princess into the air as a distraction and fled. Thanks to the absolute valor of Sage Rigger, the Fourth Princess is safe.”

“Wait a minute!” I barked, sitting up as my blood boiled. “They’re saying I tried to kill her? And what dirty tricks? I only used my card contract! Who the hell are they to steal my credit? And a Sage just happened to be doing a 'convenient' inspection at midnight? Give me a break!”

“You should be happy about one thing, at least,” Grim noted, a faint smile touching his wrinkled lips. “Princess Quina actively spoke up for you in court. She told the high council that you were the one who saved her life.”

My breath hitched. “She... she did?”

“She certainly did. But no one believed her. The ministers claimed she was so heavily traumatized and wounded that her memory got confused.”

Grim tossed a bowl of roasted meat and rice onto my lap. “Now eat up. We need to discuss the future, and right now, we don't have a single clue where to start next.”

“No, Grim,” I replied, staring down at the fated sword resting against the wall, my eyes briefly flashing crimson in the dark. “We definitely have a clue. And there is a specific place I must visit tonight.”

lord Gurberr stood quietly in front of a shattered window, staring out at the ruined, vacant courtyard of the Novalanch estate. Erina had already packed her things and moved into the knight dorms. She couldn't bear to live in this house of ghosts anymore.

THUD.

THUD.

My heavy footsteps echoed against the cracked marble behind him.

“You won't believe me,” Gurberr spoke without turning around, “but I’ve been waiting for you to show up here for two nights.”

“There are questions I need answers to, Lord Gurberr,” I said, my voice muffled behind the dark slits of my mask.

“Ask anything you want,” Gurberr let out a dry, bitter laugh. “Though it’s funny you think I’ll talk after what you did to me. You completely lied about those blackmail documents, didn't you, Lord Erik? And what about your promise of making me a higher noble?”

“You must have mistaken me for—”

“No, I haven't mistaken anything,” Gurberr interrupted, finally turning to face me. His eyes were bloodshot and dead serious. “Even if you pulled off that mask and told me you were an old man with burn scars, my answer would be the same. You are Erik Novalanch. I don't know where you gained those crimson eyes or that monstrous strength... but you are going to fulfill your promise to me.”

Realizing there was no point in playing mind games with a man who had nothing left to lose, I reached up and unlatched my faceless mask.

“If you don't want to die a slow, agonizing death, tell me everything you know about Princess Diana’s murder,” I commanded, locking my crimson gaze onto his. “Who gave you the contract to kill her, and what was their goal?”

“Information doesn't come for free, kid.”

“The price of this information is your life,” I countered, resting my hand on the hilt of my black blade. “Tell me everything, and I will spare you.”

“My life lost its value a long time ago,” Gurberr muttered, leaning back against the window sill. “The only things this kingdom values are royal blood and high nobility.”

“What do you mean?”

“The King is going to pass a royal decree soon. Anyone who isn't a high noble or an exceptionally talented prodigy will be strictly banned from joining the Royal Knights.”

The Royal Knights. They were the most elite, ruthless military force in the country, answerable only to the King himself. Their captain was universally feared as the strongest warrior in the realm.

“Why does an old coward like you care about the Royal Knights?” I asked.

“It’s for my son,” Gurberr’s voice cracked, a rare flash of genuine vulnerability breaking through his arrogant exterior. “It is his absolute dream to join them. I won't have him believe he failed to make the cut because of his father's worthlessness. I want him to have a future.”

I stared at him, the rage in my chest cooling into a cold, calculating calm. “I see.”

“Now, if you want to kill me, go ahead. Torture me all you want. I won't speak a word.”

“I won't torture you,” I replied, sheathing my sword. “State your terms.”

A desperate, clever smirk spread across Gurberr’s face. “You will disguise yourself as my adopted son—a secret prodigy I’ve supposedly been training in isolation for fifteen years. You will enter the Knight Exams, climb the ranks, and achieve greatness. When the King asks what reward you desire, you will demand that the House of Gurberr be officially elevated to a high-ranking noble family. I will handle the false paperwork.”

“I can go along with that,” I murmured, analyzing the chessboard. I didn't really have a choice; a man ready to die is impossible to break. “But why is taking the Knight Exams important for me?”

“Because you want to know who ordered Princess Diana's execution, correct? I truly don't know their identity.”

“What?” I stepped forward, my eyes flaring.

“But contracts in the underworld always go through a specific broker,” Gurberr explained rapidly. “And that broker is already dead.”

“Explain yourself before I lose my patience.”

“Take a look at this,” Gurberr said, reaching into his cloak and handing me a parchment with a broken, golden royal seal. “It’s a letter written by Princess Diana to the Blood Kingdom, penned just three days before she was assassinated. The war with the Blood Kingdom has been bleeding our borders for eight years. Do you know why?”

“The border disputes,” I guessed.

“No,” Gurberr whispered. “Diana was trying to stop it. As her assassins, our secret order wasn't just told to kill her—we were ordered to intercept and destroy every single piece of her correspondence.”

I unfolded the fragile paper. The neat, elegant handwriting of the deceased princess filled the page:

“I am deeply sorry for the escalating tensions. The sole reason our kingdom abruptly severed all trade lines with yours is because the Sacred Soul church has officially branded your territory as heretics. Our high council is terrified of the Blood Tyrant's power. Defying the Sages' orders openly would destroy us.

However, we are secretly working to obtain permission from the Four Sages to resume peaceful relations. Until then, we will maintain trade through hidden underground paths. Please, clear the misunderstanding within your court—the Kingdom of Krane is not trying to declare a full-scale war.”

I stared at the text in sheer disbelief. “What is this...?”

“Eight years ago, the Sacred Soul religion branded the Blood Kingdom as heretics,” Gurberr explained. “According to their holy law, any nation that trades or allies with heretics is automatically excommunicated. Furthermore, any nation is free to launch a holy crusade against them, backed fully by the Sages' divine power.”

“I see,” I muttered, the pieces of the puzzle snapping into a terrifying grand design. “And how does becoming a royal knight give me an advantage in this?”

“Because within the month, His Majesty is sending a final ultimatum invoice to the Blood Kingdom. It will be their last chance to surrender before a total invasion. Only high-ranking knight squads are permitted to accompany the royal envoys. But right now, you are a ghost. You need a platform.”

Every year, thousands of contestants passed the basic Knight Exams, but they remained unassigned 'rookies' until an elite squad scouted them. For some, it took years. But the true monsters were scouted directly during the exams themselves.

“If you can get scouted into a high-ranking squad, you will be deployed to the Blood Kingdom,” Gurberr pressed, stepping closer. “You will see the truth with your own eyes. And you can find the entity pulling the strings.”

“Why would I want to interfere with a continental war?”

“Because doing so will directly flush out the organization you are fighting against. The group Princess Quina called The Nemesis. If you can't find your enemy in the dark, Erik... then you must light a fire big enough to force them to find you.”

I let out a slow breath, strapping my mask back onto my face. “One last question. Who is this Blood Tyrant?”

“A literal monster,” Gurberr shrugged grimly. “Anyway, from this moment on, your name is Will Gurberr. Don't be reckless. The fate of my house, and my son's dream, rests entirely on your shoulders.”

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