The Third Prince Of Darkness

As the sun slowly rose on the horizon, the battlefield still bore the marks of the previous night's brutality. The air was heavy with the acrid scent of burnt. The Thaerd camp, once bustling with life, had been reduced to a desolate ruin, littered with the bodies of fallen soldiers and abandoned tents. The silence that hung over it now was a testament to our victory.

I stood atop a hill overlooking the battlefield. Around me, my surviving soldiers were tending to the wounded, taking stock of the remaining supplies, and preparing to celebrate our triumph. Yet, my gaze remained fixed on the horizon. The fall of Thaerd was merely the beginning; a much greater war awaited us.

Duke Grohandal approached me, greeting me with a quiet nod. His expression was a mixture of relief from our victory and the weight of the lives lost overnight. "Your Majesty," he said in a calm voice, "we've confirmed that Thaerd's forces are completely scattered. A few soldiers attempted to flee, but they were captured. The camp is entirely under our control."

I nodded in response. "Good. Gather our wounded and take everything we need from here. We have a long journey ahead of us today."

Grohandal furrowed his brow, pausing briefly. "Today? Your Majesty, your soldiers are exhausted. They need time to rest."

I turned to face him, the determination in my eyes enough to silence his protest. "We have no time for rest, Grohandal."

Grohandal took a deep breath and bowed his head without argument. "As you command, Your Majesty. I will begin preparations immediately." He hurried away.

My gaze returned to the battlefield once more. The destruction of Thaerd was a clear sign of victory, but it brought me no sense of satisfaction. A void echoed within me, a cold silence of nothingness. We may have won, but it was merely a harbinger of the greater battles to come.

I began to walk among my soldiers. With each step, I was met with salutes and silent looks of triumph in their eyes. Some bore wounds, others were still haunted by the horrors of the night before. I acknowledged each one with a brief glance. These men had shed their blood for my victory.

Reentering Thaerd's main tent, I found it eerily quiet and empty after the chaos of the battle. The lifeless body of Thaerd lay in one corner, covered with a cloth. His face, frozen in an expression of terror, was still visible. This man had once dared to challenge me. Now, he was nothing more than a memory.

"What shall we do with his body?" a soldier asked, standing at the entrance of the tent.

"Burn it, like others" I said coldly. "Let it be known that we've won this war. But his name will be recorded in history as that of a traitor."

The soldier nodded silently and left. I remained in the tent for a while longer, alone. Victory should have felt sweet, but for me, it was merely another burden. Wars didn't end; they only brought new enemies and new challenges.

After some time, I exited the tent and made my way to my horse. The dawn's light illuminated the remnants of the battlefield. A new day was beginning, and it marked the first step toward an even greater war. I called out to my soldiers,

"Prepare yourselves. We leave before the sun reaches its peak. We will return victorious, but this is only the beginning."

All eyes turned to me—tired yet resolute. After a brief silence, a cheer erupted. It was not just the cry of a battle won, but a declaration of greater victories to come.

Within myself, I repeated these words: "Victory belongs only to the strong. And I will become the strongest in this world."

---

Ten Days Later

After short breaks and quick stops, we had finally reached the capital. I had sent a courier ahead to inform my wives of our victory and our return. Now, outside the city walls, a massive crowd had gathered on either side of the road to celebrate our triumph.

The colossal stones of the capital's walls, worn with age, whispered tales of battles past. Just beyond the gates, the people awaited us with flowers in hand. Their faces radiated the joy of victory, a victory they experienced without seeing the battlefield. What they didn't know was the blood, sweat, and pain that lay behind it.

As we approached the gates, the crowd erupted into cheers. Children reached out their arms to touch the war heroes, women threw flowers toward the soldiers, and people jostled to catch a glimpse of the triumph. Yet, no smile graced my face.

When the gates groaned open, the full view of the capital square came into sight. Soldiers lined the stone-paved roads, ready to salute our victory.

By this point, I had dismissed most of the twenty-thousand-strong army. Only a few thousand remained by my side. After all, each soldier had a family, or at least someone they cared for. The few thousand soldiers with me were already citizens of the capital or from villages near the capital. Unless Liam attacked or an unexpected event occurred, I would regroup the army after winter.

Sitting tall atop my horse, my armor gleamed in the sunlight, a beacon of power visible beyond the walls. By my side stood Duke Grohandal and my loyal commanders, each carrying the pride and burden of victory. As we moved through the crowd, I scanned their faces. Joy, pride, and hope—they were all there, mingled together.

When we reached the center of the square, I straightened on my horse. My soldiers formed ranks, holding banners high. The cheers of the crowd fell silent, a blanket of quiet covering the thousands gathered. My voice broke the silence resounding through the square.

"Today, we celebrate our victory! The fall of Thaerd is a testament to our strength and will! But this victory is only the beginning. Our enemies are many, and our battles are far from over. Yet you, the people of this kingdom, are my strength. I will fight for you. I will win for you!"

A mighty roar rose from the crowd. People embraced, soldiers clapped one another on the back. The spirit of victory filled the square. Yet inside me, that familiar emptiness lingered. This was the burden of a king.

"Today is a day of celebration. Celebrate for the dawn of a new era for Asina!"

As the crowd's enthusiasm surged, I sat tall on my horse, but the silence within me deepened. My people's loyalty, their faith in me, the hope and gratitude in their eyes—all of it felt like a heavy weight on my soul. In that moment, I realized that the cost of victory was not only paid by my enemies, but by me as well.

Duke Grohandal approached and bowed. "Your Majesty, your family awaits you at the palace. You may wish to rest while the celebrations continue."

I nodded. "Let us not delay the people further. We will march to the palace."

I signaled to my soldiers. The banners rose again, and the victory march resumed. As we moved through the cheering crowd, my eyes sought a familiar face among them. I knew my wives—my queens—were waiting for me in the grand courtyard of the palace.

As the massive palace gates opened before us, I advanced into the courtyard. In the center of the courtyard stood all my queens, gathered together.

Each of them shone with a unique grace and beauty. Tears of joy sparkled in their eyes. As I dismounted from my horse, the first to run toward me was my mother, Luciana. But soon, the rest of them followed closely behind her.

"Welcome home, my little Ethan," she said in a trembling voice. Her tone was filled with love and pride, though it couldn't completely hide her worry.

After Luciana, my queens approached me one by one. Isabella greeted me with refined elegance, bowing lightly, though the emotions I saw in her eyes were far deeper. "I never doubted you," she said softly, her voice calm yet profoundly moving.

Ellera came forward with her usual stoic demeanor, though there was an undeniable relief in her gaze. "Congratulations on your victory," she said briefly, but the swirling silver circles in her eyes betrayed her joy.

The others—Roxanne, Evangeline, Kayle, Avanne, Catherine, and Violet—each embraced me tightly, their affection making up for the long time apart.

Then I followed them into the palace. They quickly realized the toll the long, grueling journey had taken on my body and mind after the war. Insisting that I needed rest, they gently but firmly led me away. Before leaving, I instructed Duke Grohandal to oversee the celebrations.

The women took me to my bedchamber. Where my old bed once stood, there was now a grand one so large it could comfortably fit even ten people. They exchanged mischievous smiles, but thankfully, their intent was only to tuck me in and sleep by my side.

That night, I felt as though a part of the burden of war had been lifted from my shoulders. Exhaustion had seeped deeply into both my body and mind, but the presence of my loved ones brought me a fleeting sense of peace.

Each of my queens settled into a corner of the bed; some rested their heads on my shoulders, while others held my hands. It was as if there was an unspoken understanding among them. That night, no words were necessary.

Luciana stretched out atop my bare chest, kissed me tenderly, her affection pouring through every touch. On either side, the other women clung to me tightly, unwilling to let me go. Each carried a distinct scent, and as sleep began to claim me, I found my thoughts lingering on that.

It was the only thing on my mind as I drifted into slumber. It felt like I had found heaven on earth.