Aurora: Bloodlit moon

Midnight Light Inn

In a narrow alley near the wall dividing the central and southern districts of the White City, a faint lamp illuminated a worn wooden door.

This was the clandestine entrance to the Midnight Light Inn, granting access to the isolated section of the tavern. It led to a hidden room on the second floor, known only to the city's influential elite.

Around a round wooden table, six figures sat in the dim light, their gazes fixed on what appeared to be a map of the region. It was color-coded to represent the various family heads' territories. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and every exchanged glance carried an air of conspiracy.

— Baronet Cavil: Tonight, we will witness the downfall of that arrogant and conceited family, one of them said, his voice laced with malice.

— Baron Lewing: I must say, Sir Cavil, you have opened my eyes, he replied with a slight bow. "I never thought it would be possible to rid ourselves of the Ashki family."

— Baronet Groth: Don't be so modest, Mr. Lewing. None of this would have been possible without you and your family's connections. Your dealings with the Messenger of the Blood Moon have been key. Without your intervention, we'd still be at a standstill.

— Baronet Cavil: I appreciate your words, but let's not forget that this is the result of our collective efforts, he remarked smoothly.

— Baron Snow: Enough with the pleasantries, gentlemen, a voice cut through impatiently. "Let's focus on the final steps."

— Baron Lewing: Impatient, are we, Head of House Snow? he said, flashing a sly grin at his peer.

— Baron Snow: It's not impatience," Snow retorted, glancing towards the door. "I have other matters to attend to and don't plan to linger here any longer than necessary. None of us should, for that matter, he added, his tone growing sharper.

The faint sound of footsteps outside drew their attention, and the creaking door slowly opened, interrupting their discussion.

All heads turned in unison, their eyes wary and distrustful. A short, disheveled man stepped into the room. His somber gaze swept across those gathered, eliciting varied reactions. While some smiled faintly in recognition, Baron Snow's demeanor grew visibly tense.

The newcomer, the innkeeper, walked cautiously yet deliberately. Despite standing before the most powerful family heads of White City, he maintained a composed demeanor, bowing slightly out of respect as he approached the table.

— Innkeeper: My lords… A letter has arrived for you, he announced softly.

He stepped closer, carefully placing the sealed letter on the table before bowing again and retreating towards the door.

Baron Lewing raised an eyebrow, intrigued, as he reached out to take the letter.

The room fell silent, the tension mounting as the faint creak of the closing door echoed loudly. All eyes were on Lewing as he examined the seal: a crescent moon dripping with three blood-red drops. Slowly, he tore the envelope open, revealing a folded letter inside.

Unfolding the letter, his eyes scanned its contents swiftly, and a cold smile spread across his face.

— Baron Lewing: The moment has come. Everything is proceeding according to plan, he said at last, his voice as cold as ice.

The others exchanged expectant glances until one finally broke the silence.

— Baron Snow: What does it say? he asked impatiently.

Lewing placed the letter on the table, sliding it slightly towards the center. Before anyone could reach for it, he began to speak.

— Baron Lewing: The Lord of the City and the Head of the Ashki family have withdrawn from the border following a decisive battle. Both are gravely injured and won't return for several weeks. This gives us a window of four to five weeks to plan an ambush and eliminate them upon their return.

The others murmured among themselves, but Lewing raised a hand, silencing them.

— Baron Lewing: Furthermore, the Commander of the Blood Moon has begun the assault on the Ashki estate. Most of our obstacles have already been dealt with. He has ordered the elimination of any remaining Ashki family members within the city. It's imperative we finish them off as quickly as possible.

The room grew tense once more until Rich leaned forward, visibly uneasy.

— Baronet Rich: Orders from that foreigner?" he scoffed. "I'm not inclined to take commands from someone who isn't one of us. He may have been useful, but he holds no authority here.

Snow nodded, his eyes narrowing with distrust.

— Baron Snow: We should consider his advice, but we're not obligated to follow his orders. After all, we're the ones who ensured his forces moved undetected through the Kingdom's checkpoints. We've done this for our own reasons, not to appease a noble from Kyros.

Before the discussion could escalate, Cavil intervened, his tone calm and calculated.

— Baronet Cavil: This isn't about following orders. Eliminating the Ashki remnants is in all our best interests. We cannot afford to leave any loose ends.

Lewing nodded in agreement.

— Baron Lewing: Precisely. To ensure the Ashki family never recovers, we must see this through. I'll handle this personally.

Snow and Rich exchanged a skeptical glance but eventually nodded, albeit reluctantly.

— Baron Snow: Very well. But make it swift. I don't want this mission dragging on unnecessarily. We still have to deal with the City Lord and the Ashki leader when they return.

— Baronet Cavil: Agreed. The sooner, the better, he said, his tone firm.

— Baron Snow: Now, let's finalize the division of Ashki's properties.

---

Ashki Family Mansion

Chaos consumed the mansion entirely. Buildings were ablaze, and knights clad in black armor roamed the grounds, their swords piercing the few survivors who remained. Blood covered the ground, staining the stones a deep red under the light of the moon.

The lifeless bodies of men lay scattered everywhere, while the screams of women and children, dragged off by the invaders, echoed in the darkness.

All the knights still fighting for the Ashki family had gathered in the rear courtyard of the mansion, holding the line to cover the escape of the women, elders, and children who had managed to evacuate earlier. Arthur fought desperately, with fewer than 50 knights at his side. Though wounded, he still had strength left.

Only one or two dozen knights could still stand; the rest were injured and exhausted, surrounded by hundreds of enemy warriors.

From the shadows came an order to halt. The ranks of assassins began to part, and through them emerged a group of six riders, making their way past the bodies.

Two of them carried black flags bearing the emblem of a white moon with a crimson lake beneath it and three red drops dripping like blood at the bottom.

— Young Mouda: "I've been looking for you for a long time, Ashki, a deep, disdainful voice said. It's been ten months since the last time you saw me. At first, I didn't even know who you were. It was hard to get information, but I found you in the end. You're worse than a cockroach-hard to find, but when your nest is discovered, just a little poison wipes them all out.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, recognizing the man. You! he shouted, his voice a mix of surprise and fury. You bastard!

The young Mouda smiled with satisfaction.

— Young Mouda: What satisfaction I feel seeing your expression. How does it feel to see your men massacred? You're finished, and what awaits you now is a miserable life-or should I say, a miserable death. It's time for me to collect on everything you've done to me. Today, your fate is sealed.

— Arthur: All of this... was planned by you? How are you still alive?" Arthur shouted, staring at the man in front of him with a mixture of disbelief and deep hatred.

— Young Mouda: What a stupid question. Planned by me? You're mistaken. All of this is your doing. I'm just playing my role to perfection in this magnificent masterpiece. You are the protagonist! His voice rose with each word as a sinister smile spread across his face, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes.

— Young Mouda: It's all done now. You should've made sure I was dead when I fell off that cliff Now, it's far too late to regret it."

Arthur gritted his teeth, his rage barely contained under the weight of his despair.

— Arthur: How can you stain the White City

with the blood of my family? Do you not fear the consequences? My father and the lord of the city won't sit idly by, nor will the other families- The rider burst into deranged laughter, cutting off Arthur's shouts.

— Young Mouda: Ha, ha, ha! No one will come to save you! Your father is probably dying in some war camp as we speak.

— Young Mouda: The lord of the city is busy at the border-he's been injured as well. By the time they return, the Ashki family will no longer exist. As for the other families... they all covet what you and yours possess. When this is over, they'll take it all as payment. Ha, ha, ha!

Arthur lowered his gaze, the blood loss making him dizzy and nauseous. Those words echoed in his mind, almost like a hypnotic chant.

— Arthur: That... can't be. He muttered as he fought to regain his composure.

— Young Mouda: Oh, but it is, Mouda said, signaling with his hand. "Kill everyone! Except for him. That one's mine.

---

Midnight Light Inn

— Baron Snow: Gentlemen, are we all in agreement with the terms? he asked in a challenging tone.

— Baron Lewing: Lord Snow, your greed is surpassed only by your arrogance. While I, for one, am satisfied with the portion allocated to me, don't you think you should show a bit more consideration for the other families?

— Baron Snow: Don't misunderstand me, he replied, crossing his arms. I am not claiming these properties because I participated in the plan. This is my payment for not doing something to stop it. If I had sided with the Ashki and revealed the whole matter of betrayal, some of your heads would now be displayed on stakes outside the castle gates.

The heads of the families fell silent, absorbing his words. Snow continued speaking with fervor.

— What I claim are the assets—most of which are joint ventures between the Ashki and Snow families. You cannot deny me when I'm merely taking what rightfully belongs to me, he stated firmly. Within the White City, the Ashki properties, including their palaces, factories, and businesses, will now belong to me.

One of those present, Lord Groth, nodded.

— Baronet Groth: I have no objections. The farmland and livestock territories assigned to me are of great interest. Also, a few of their mines in the southern region.

— Baron Snow: That is as expected. No one can make better use of those lands than you.

— Baronet Cavil: As for me, my family will absorb the barracks and military training centers, he declared with enthusiasm, glancing around for approval.

— Baron Lewing: Fine. That's what we discussed earlier, but it's your responsibility to deal with the military personnel and the remaining members of the Ashki family, he said seriously, meeting Cavil's gaze.

— Baron Snow: You'll need to subdue or dispose of the instructors at the military training center who believe their loyalty is worth more than their lives, he remarked softly, locking eyes with him.

— Baron Lewing: The rest has already been agreed upon with Mr. Rich and Groth. There's no need to repeat it again.

— Baron Snow: It's time to leave and tend to our respective matters, he concluded, taking the letter from the table as he headed for the door.

The room fell silent as the large, imposing silhouette of Sir Snow, the Guardian of the White City, disappeared behind the closing door.

— Baronet Cavil: I've never trusted that arrogant man, he muttered with disdain as he prepared to leave.

— Baronet Groth: It's all for the sake of achieving our objectives. Pay no mind to his words.

---

Main Mansion of the Ashki Family

Arthur was being cornered, his knights falling rapidly. More than half had perished, and only a handful had managed to resist thus far.

Desperate cries echoed among the knights:

— No reinforcements are coming! We've been abandoned!

— This is the work of conspirators! Not a single family has sent troops, even though so much time has passed since the invasion!

— Young master! Run! We will carve a path for your escape!

— Arthur: Do not worry. We will fight until the end. If it is our fate to die here, then we will all die together.

— Young Mouda: How touching! Too bad nothing will go as you hope. Why do you fight? There's no point in continuing. If you surrender now, I might show mercy to the few men at your side and grant them a painless death.

— Arthur: Mercy? Why? Why did you attack my family? They had nothing to do with our grudge. When my father returns, he will hunt you down and destroy you.

— Young Mouda: I also had part of my family with me when you and your men attacked, murdering them all. If I hadn't leapt off that cliff, I'd be lying in an unmarked grave.

He sneered.

— Don't expect your father to do anything to me. He has to survive the war first.

As he spoke, Mouda turned, shouting a name that echoed throughout the mansion:

— "Shadow!!"

Then, regaining his composure, he continued:

— Your family no longer matters. You are no longer anyone. I will brand you as what you are: a slave.

The sound of hurried footsteps and chains dragging along the quartz-paved path filled the air. Meanwhile, the assassin army began to split into two groups.

Arthur felt a chilling electricity run down his spine as he spotted, in the distance, a cart laden with chains and shackles.

A massive man with light armor and bloodstains covering his body was pulling a small cart carrying a clay furnace resembling a pumpkin. Smoke rose from it, smelling of burnt flesh. Two others emerged from behind, carrying chains as they approached the commander of the troops accompanying Young Mouda.

— Louisse: Young master, the members of 'Blood Moon' have arrived, and everything is ready to proceed as soon as you give the order.

— Young Mouda: Perfect! They've arrived just in time. Lord Fourth, welcome to the Ashki mansion. These men you see here are top-quality goods. I hope they're enough to meet your high standards.

— Lord Fourth: You talk as if I'm demanding for asking you to deliver them to me in one piece. You should teach your men to handle the merchandise better, grumbled a pale man with scars on his face as he walked behind the hulking figure and approached Louisse.

This man wore a white robe adorned with many blood-red markings and encrusted jewels. A goat mask of various colors obscured his face, and he carried a white staff with a golden figure of a woman on the handle, her feet supporting the staff's base.

— Young Mouda: There's no need to worry. These men you see here are the main attraction. Especially that one, he said, pointing at Arthur with a macabre grin as he laughed.