"M-My Lord, the troops of Tyrenfall have us surrounded!", a trembling man, barely coming of age, reported to the king of Silays. In his halfbow the sweat trickled down like the rain, unhindered from his face.

Clutching the armrests on his throne with a beet-red complexion the king tried its best to stifle his ashen anger. As the king he had to retain his calm, keep the order in check and stand tall as the guiding star for the lost lambs called his folk.

Nonetheless the anger was teeming under his skin, crawling through his veins and boiling him from the inside alive.

"Those traitors...", he whispered in a voice so inhuman and rogue that the small messenger couldn't help but shiver.

Alexander Aries Vilis The First. This was the king's title. Alexander Aries, named by his deceased father and Vilis, not a name in itself. Vilis is a title, but not any title. The Vilis is a being that tempts providence in itself with his might, the Vilis destroys life under his thumb, the Vilis is the title for the strongest only.

Belowing with his ire Alexander's golden robe rucked up, moved seemingly sentient in the stagnant air. His silver hair, stretching from head to toe, wallowed above the ground. The brimming power accentuated Alexander's handsome yet crass features in a combination of heroic gold and beastly rage.

Slowly he stood up, the titan actually stood up. The castle Ysold cried out in fear of its mighty king, the walls churned and the foundation shock. Hellish winds circled around the throne room, the messenger shielded his eyes with his shivering limbs.

"HAAAAAAAAH!", an explosive roar lifted the curtains from the walls, turned the hellish winds into the scythes of the death God, made the ground split in all directions.

The messenger was thrown against a wall, his cushioned leather armor tanking most of the damage that would have been dealt to him. He spit out a sliver of blood, gazed with upturned eyes at the war embodiment called his king.

Clad in golden and silvern plates, intwining on his chest as dragon and phoenix that battled for supremacy, shrouded by red winds of power. A helmet with feathers and horns crowned the Vilis and rounded up his magical armor, Bullwark.

A flash errupted in front of the king, illuminated even the outskirts through the tall windows mounted with rainbow coloured glass.

Floating in front of the king was a slim long sword with simple ornamentations, grey steel with a worn leather hilt.

The king caressed the sword's fuller with his fingers, gripped the hilt and let the power surge through him. Böses Blut (Evil blood), the sword left by the first king of Silays, unknown metal forged with unknown techniques, infused with unknown power. It was a sword that could only be wielded by the royal lineage but this simple sword came with a price.

It is often said that power corrupted, this statement is false and anyone with power can confirm that; power does not corrupt, power uncovers your true nature. The natural thirst for power and carnage that went hand in hand with feral instinct and desire was embedded into every being, it just came in other forms for each and everyone.

Böses Blut's hilt changed in a moments notice. A single spike emerged from beneath the crude leather and lodged itself deep into the king's hand. Power unchained.

The King's soles tapped on the ground, light as a feather, and he vanished. Windows shattered from the supersonic boom and only the traumatized messenger was left in the throne room. He sometimes wondered why no guards were attendant in his majesty's presence, now he knew why.

---------------

'Those imbeciles, how dare they trespass onto my kingdom?!'

I fumed with rage as I stood on the massive encirclement of walls. I was one of the last High Humans, yet those fools, those brats dared to attack my land, my capital, my kingdom. They pillage, rape and plunder everything on sight, brun and kill, indulge in carnal pleasure without caring about the poor souls they send into the afterlife. How much I hated those people.

The grip on Böses Blut tightened, I would not let one pass into my city. I glimpsed back, behind me was the majestic fortress Ysold. A beast among its kin. With walls as high as colossus and with girth that even titans could not break through it protected the delicate citizens from any harm. 'But...' I swept past the horizon with my gaze. 'This is to much.'

Spanning miles upon miles was an abominable amount of soldiers, siege engines and flares to light up the darkness in a foreboding crimson. 'How many have these mad kings assembled? What false promises have they given their soldiers to fight this senseless battle?'. Money and women was always a tempting offer, but for such an amount of soldiers to fall for this trick? Tens of millions stood at my door to barge in.

They marched so far already, and now they went for the capital, the gem in Silays' crown. 'I lost so many troops to them already, one was already to many....'.

"This war is but a farce...", I sighed with indignation and swept Böses Blut through the wind.

A gale in red picked up from stillness, silently it approached the mass of soldiers below.

*BOOOOOOOM! WRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!*

Their cries were drowned by their tearing flesh and spilled blood. A cacophony of pain and the stench of death wafted moments after into my ear and nostrils. I savoured this balm for my trepidated heart, filled with angst and anxiousness.

Hundreds of meters of soldiers were turned into a magenta flower field, their blossoms made of disfigured bodies.

Certainly this attack of mine killed hundreds or thousands of soldiers, but was that enough? No in just mere moments they were replaced by another company of battle keen soldiers. It posed the question, did they not see what I did to their comrades moments ago?

I shrugged. "So be it."

A burning arrow flew past my face, landed atop the fortifications, causing no damage whatsoever.

"A brave one are you, huh...", I glanced at the crazed soldier that was holding his fibrous bow high up in the air, another burning arrow steady in his hand, ready to be nocked anytime.

I turned my back towards the sea of soldiers, gave a warm look at the fortress that rose into the clouds, the people that bustled in the streets still ignorant of the threat that waited outside and at the soldiers that hushed past the populace, not trying to alert them.

"Elina, I will see you soon my dear. Sara my daughter, I was never a good father to you, can you forgive me?", I whispered into the empty winds. Silence was frail today, but for my land, for my people, I would keep the silence, would keep the peace, would keep the danger outside.

Without a sound I turned around, dived into the tidal waves of savage men. Today I would slaughter for a better tomorrow.

"Father, NO!", I choose to ignore the cry from afar.

***

Alexander vanished admist the chaos of soldiers, turned into a hurricane of death and madness as Böses Blut unfolded its true power.

Sara keeled over the wall's railings, her legs were weak, her dress in tatters and her hair disheveled. Incredolous she gazed at the back of the man that she called father. The back of the Vilis and how he ruptured through the enemy. Pride bloomed in her chest as well as insatiable worry. Her last bloodrelative was plunging himself into masses of death.

"Father, please survive...", she pleaded to the skies and clutched with her frail hands a golden pendant around her neck.

---------------

"Sara, are you alright?", a man in his thirties asked the young girl, barely 16 or 17. The girl, Sara Aries, the princess of Silays.

With her chin cupped in one hand and with dreamy eyes gazing out of the window, lighted by the opaque moon, she was a beauty like only a handful. Her platinum hair swayed over her shoulders and her sapphire blue eyes followed the floating clouds, barely visible in this peaceful night.

"Sara!", the man put more force in his voice.

Sara bolted straight up. "W-w-w-What?", she wasn't just simply absentminded she had been in her own world seemingly. Dreaming about her future summon and the incredible feats she would accomplish on all three continents. The warrior princess and daughter of the Valis, with her trusty summon, a dragon or gryphon preferably.

Those young girls dreams were shattered as a vein popped on the head of the middle aged man. He smashed a fat tome on the table. "If you don't care about my class then we can stop right here, right now!", he threatened. As a close confidant of the king he had nothing to fear in slightly reprimanding his daughter.

"But uncle....", and he was also Sara's godfather. "This is boring! I want to commence the summoning right now! You know as good as I do how masterful my control of mana and aether is! It is top class in all six human kingdoms!", she boasted with a raised chest.

"Haaa? And what about the elves and dragonewts?", the man smirked and crossed his arms over his stout chest, the glasses on his hawk nose flashed with mischief.

Sara pouted. "W-well... It is unfair to compare humans with those... those monsters!"

"For the love of God, they are not monsters, they are like you and me, just with different appearance. Don't let those other nobles with their wicked tongues fool you Sara!", the man got slightly angry. As a rational human and living being he saw no reasoning in ocstracism and speciesism.

"Muuu....... That doesn't change the matter at hand! I want to have a steadfast summon, right now! I command you as the princess to assist me!", her haughty tone was kinda getting to the middle-aged man.

"I have a name you dumb child!", he smacked her on the head with another book in his left hand, a slightly slimer and lighter book of course.

"Auau... uncle Petrov, I will tell this my father!", she sticked her tongue out.

"You think your father wi-!", Petrov couldn't finish his sentence.

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM*

The castle rumbled and aggressive winds clawed their way through the fortress, ripping paintings and cotton curtains from the walls.

"Uncle, what was that?!", Sara asked with an obvious trembling in her voice.

"It came... from the throne room! DAMMIT!", Petrov rushed out of the room in a hurry, his cape fluttered behind him; followed by the blank-eyed Sara.

When they reached the throne room it was already empty exempt for the half conscious messenger.

Creating a blob of water Petrov splashed it square into the messenger's face. With a cough and a sudden jolt the man woke up from his stupor.

"What happened here?!", Petrov inquired as he raised his arms to emphasize the damage done to the room. Sara stood silently behind him, not moving or doing anything noteworthy.

"The King, he-he went for the troops outside.", the messenger tripped over his own words.

"What troops you idiot?!", Petrov roared.

"The kingdoms of, of... no, the aliance of Tyrenfall! They, they send their troops, want to destroy Silays, King angry, went outside *haaah*....", with a sigh the man fell unconscious again.

"Wake up! Wake up dammit!", Petrov slapped the man's face and sent him flying into another wall, not bettering the condition of the man at all. Luckily the man was still alive, but as unconscious as never before.

"Fuck, what is going on here?", Petrov turned around only to find out he was talking to himself. "Sara? SARA!?", he screamed inside the vacant throne room.

---------------

I hurried as fast as I could through the castle, past attendants and servants, giving me quizical looks, whispering: 'What is the princess doing? Probably just one of her many quirks.'

They knew nothing about me. Quirks, no, the fighting, the battle, it was in my blood.

I ran stairs up, down, up, down, narrow passages that sidled left, right, left, right. My legs were weak and exhausted, my mind in turmoil. As a child I lost my mother to illness, I could hardly bear it and now my father would succumb to the greed of fellow humans. I was the only one that knew the real character of my father, the undulating and volatile temperament but the steadfast will to protect his people, it was a virtue that lived on in my blood.

I would not let my father die, I couldn't let him die.

Hushing out of the castle I was greeted by busy merchants and peasants sorting out their everyday struggle. I couldn't bother with their salutes and greetings, surprised and anxious to see their kingdom's princess in such a hurry.

Passing the receeding masses of humans, most of them entered inns or their cozy homes with serene hearts, unknown danger just hair's apart from their door.

My thighs ached and my breathing became hard as the cold air sheared the warmth from my body. Under the watchful moon I sprinted upwards, up the palisade and further into the sky.

Supporting myself on walls and anything I could grip onto I finally arrived at the foremost wall. I could see the torches lit up throughout the horizon, they illuminated a known silhouette with turned back to me.

Words didn't come out, my hands stretched out, praying to vanquish impossible to bridge distance between me and my father. I was so close yet so far away.

His body vanished behind the artificial border of sky and earth made by the wall and was then swallowed up by the enemy forces. I screamed: "Father, NO!", and the tears rolled down my face.

He would not survive, this was certain. Not unless I was able to change this fate.

Remembering the old inscriptions of the ancient summoning magic, obsolete carvings depicting the two faced deity, and their meanings I tried to do what was deemed impossible for my age. A summoning.

With my controlled yet immature magic I recited the old books in the tongue of the divine. Blue static sparked around my skin, pricked my flesh and burned my marrow. Pain plastered across my face but with indomitable will I forced the mana to burn my body and use my flesh as medium for the legendary summoning.

I pictured a being of unfathomable power, loyal to me, a bad wish in retrospective. What being with supreme power would itself let be limited by a mortal?

But the image was already created, the most important part with a summoning.

A tail, wings, a massive body that could squash towns like insects, and power incomparable to everything in this realm. A dragon of ancient times, a wyrm that crosses the border of Godhood and nature, a wyvern that could incinerate hell itself, such beings were swirling inside my mind. I glimpsed through the summoning magic in millions of worlds at the same time. My lungs grew erratic and failed to nuture my mind with the much needed air. Blinded by the sheer magnificience of worlds unknown to this date I fell unknowingly to my knees.

My eyes lit up the night sky with a blue lightning, projected those majestic creatures into the firmament as stars of its own.

Informations bombarded my exhausted mind, I was on the verge of collapse. It was time to choose.

A dragon in white, horns of golden brilliance, teeth that could purge your sins and wings that shielded the weak. Two eyed with silver pupils it gazed from its world into my soul. "Good. You are strong little human, let me help you.", the ancient voice echoed in my skull and numbed my body.

A claw teared the clouds and space itself, with delighted eyes I was embracing sleep, my servant wouldn't disappoint me.

A pure majesty of creatures descended through a blue rip in space and amde everyone, even the blind and sick stare up in awe.

Joyous the tears flowed down.

"W-what are you? You abomination! Halt, don't come closer, I Sarim the king of dragons will not permit it! You don't know wh- ARGGGHHHHH", the dragon roared madly in the skies, people were thrown to the ground, even the army below was not any better.

The white radiance abruptely changed into, into.... nothingness. The blue light vanished and no trace of my mighty summon was left.

My heart jumped, my mind worked overtime. 'H-how could this be?'. The saviour was right before my eyes and yet, he was gone now.

The clouds refigured themselves, surprised by the sudden change but quickly accomodating to the past state now that this was all over.

"No...no, no, no, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!", I screamed and teared away at my hairs with last bits of strength remaining. Why didn't it work, where did I do wrong?! So many questions without answers plagued my mind and threw my soul into a state of self-loathing. With empty eyes and a distraught heart I laid there on the ground and rain started to fall, lampooning my inability.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH", an otherwordly scream errupted from the skies. The clouds darkened and instead of rain thunder dropped down. A vile twist churned inside the sky and made space itself tremble. For a second time life itself was silent, not out of awe but out of fear and terror.

A gigantic white draconic head phased into existence, but only the head. Golden blood dripped from the mauled throat, the serpententine eyes were lifelessly gazing into whatever was gripping this carcass in its umbrageous claws. A figure of pure evil and hate descended, floated only hundreds of meters in mid air.

The large head was dropped down, smashed tens of the enemies soldiers.

Black wings encompassed a red-veined body and with a mad grin, and baneful fangs the demon spoke.

"Good evening my dear humans, is it not a nice day, to slaughter and destroy?", it asked with a smile filled with childish innocence. And then it held true to its rhetorical question.

'What have I unleashed?', I asked myself as despair took hold of my heart. I didn't know at that time but my fate was intwined insuperably to this atrocious devil.