In the beginning, there was only emptiness; and from it, demons sprang forth from the seas of sulfur and burning coal. In that chaotic environment, a light rose from the filth and became aware of its own existence. Seeing this spectacle, it raised its arms, clapping its hands together, and exclaimed: "What once was will not be, and what is to come will be."
With those words, charged with immense power, the sulfur seas began to churn, and from within them, dry lands emerged, forming mountains and plains. Likewise, with a breath of that higher consciousness, the thick, dark, coal-colored clouds dissipated, letting the sun's rays in, bathing everything beneath the imposing blue sky that stretched from one end to the other.
From the dry land, grass and trees began to bloom, giving way to a beautiful emerald green that painted the scene like a beautiful, sparkling gem.
To the demons' belligerent gaze, the spectacle seemed grotesque rather than majestic. Despite being ruled by their sinister nature, the beasts of the abyss joined forces to challenge the entity of light that threatened to destroy everything they knew and desired.
Contemplating the malicious attempts of the demons to challenge his creation, the young astral entity snapped his fingers and clay figures began to emerge from the earth, which soon took the form of humanoid beings with four pairs of wings and lacking a face.
- “I am the beginning and the end, what is and what will be. I am the creator god; hear with your ears and fear with your hearts. I am Plegoria, the merciful. Go then to them, my children, and claim by right what your lord has created for you.” At the words of the self-proclaimed god, the beings created from clay flapped their wings and rose into the heavens, singing songs of praise to their creator. Likewise, cutting their wrists to make the blood flow, Plegoria poured that offering into a chalice, and from it, celestial weapons were granted to them for battle.
Likewise, the demons took metal and stone from the earth, forging swords and shields, which they bestowed one by one upon their champions to go into battle against the hosts of heaven. With the clash of metals and the flowing of blood from both sides, the once splendidly green lands were soon dyed a gloomy crimson.
The seas that had been created with a pristine sapphire blue, turned purple as dark as the night sky before night.
The heat of the battle only increased rather than decreased. Neither side yielded an inch, even though flesh and blood piled up like mountains across the world. It was a horrendous spectacle, devoid of all mercy or pity; celestial beings and demons, in the eyes of the god Plegoria, were merely pieces on a board, as if in a game.
At the height of the war, a young demon with the appearance of a child rose from the corpses of countless of his comrades who had fallen in the heat of battle. His hair was jet black, as were his eyes, which, if you looked into them, seemed like the vast, starless night sky. With mahogany skin and sharp claws, this creature was a demon as self-aware as the entity that rose above the clouds of the heavens.
The god Plegoria rose from his throne and bent down to look at the earth, placing his right hand on his chin with a complacent smile and an expression in his eyes filled with an unhealthy feeling.
- "Who are you, insolent creature? You have risen from your slumber as I did in the beginning. If I had to define you, I would say that you are similar to a brother; but far from that, I feel only disgust at your existence. What is your name? Say it now and make the meaning of your existence manifest."
Both the demons and the celestial beings who fought fervently on earth were beings devoid of anything like a name. The astral entity that had risen and acquired awareness of its existence took the name Plegoria. And with this, it acquired power over all things and all that would be created.
With the importance of having a name to express the meaning of existence, Plegoria had said those words to challenge the little demon who was watching him defiantly, standing on top of the highest mountain on earth.
- “Groaaaaaaah!” – Giving a tremendous scream that shook the confines of the heavens, almost erasing the clouds from the firmament, that little boy raised his face with an expression of fury while wielding a sword that had been snatched from one of the winged beings.
Passing the palm of his hand over the edge of the sword, the little demon poured his thick blood over the pure silver metal, which gradually turned a blackened red hue that clashed with the beauty of the original weapon.
“I will never forgive you, you who come to take what is not yours. You took the heads of my parents and siblings and mocked their blood for your own enjoyment. The abyss is our home, not yours or anyone else’s. The blood of my people cries out from the earth, and from that blood I have risen, born of the death you yourself bestowed. Prayer, do you demand to know my name?” Tilting his body slightly to reveal the skeleton of a pair of wings that were slowly lined with nerves and cartilage, the demon took flight slightly and flashed his sword through the air in a sign of mourning.
- “You who seize what is not yours, I must give you something I deliver with my own hand. I will tell you my name now that I am to take your head, for it is right that those who are about to die know who their executioner is. Hear well then and listen, for you will only be told once: my name is the heritage of many, and it is written in their blood. My name is Legi…!” – Before he could finish pronouncing his full name, a celestial creature suddenly appeared like a bolt of lightning from the horizon.
Behind his back, unlike his brothers, only two wings sprouted from his flesh and he had a face with a tight expression of anger, his eyes brimming with a whitish glow like oyster pearls.
- "Who the hell are you?" – Trying to wield his sword to defend himself, the little demon crashed the metal of his darkened sword against the shiny metal of that celestial being, who with a quick movement ripped out his tongue with the tips of his fingers in the blink of an eye.
Screaming in agony with the taste of blood overflowing in his mouth, the demon brandished his sword in fury, clashing in the air against the sword of the celestial being who stared at him without losing sight of him.
Unable to say his full name, the demon's power was diminished compared to the god Plegoria, leaving him as an inferior existence who could not compete against him.
- “Come on, little fry, fight with all your might! Show me the pride of the name you bear and defeat my champion! Rise up and take the head of my only begotten son, the son I beget today to bend your knee before me. Mika, the only one blessed by God !” – Having finished saying those words, the celestial being who was fighting against the little demon was covered in a luminous halo and on his head a miter was drawn with radiant light.
A name was given to him, a name that set him apart from all his brothers, distinguishing him from them so that he could rise above them. Unlike the demon and the god Plegoria, this created being received a name instead of being aware of his own. With that, he was elevated beyond the demons and, likewise, subordinated to what was called a god.
Like an unbeatable beast that throws itself upon its prey, Mika indolently brandished his sword over the necks of his enemies and one after another he broke them on the earth for the glory of his creator.
The demons resisted him, but despite their efforts, their lives were consumed by the cold edge of the sword and the heat of the implacable gaze of that firstborn of Plegoria.
With his eyes filled with despair and consumed by the pain of hearing the agony of his blood brothers' screams, the little demon flapped his wings furiously and traveled from one end of the world to the other like an arrow to confront the invincible celestial being.
Nourishing his heart with the resentment of the fallen demons, the little boy increased his strength to face Mika, at times matching the speed and skill of the god's favorite in full combat.
Cutting into each other's flesh, the two combatants planted their feet on the ground and lashed out furiously with their swords, causing the friction of the air to cut the mountains and rocks as if they were leaves.
Reaching the point of exhaustion, both Mika and the demon looked at each other as they listened to the malicious laughter of the god who placidly watched them from his throne in the clouds.
- “Oh foolish demon. I repudiate everything about you and I find nothing pleasing about your existence, but if there’s one thing I should admire, it’s your tenacity in the face of the impossible. Surrender to the Creator and I will grant you a swift death.” Mika’s expression was filled with exhaustion, panting with her face covered in blood and dirt. Meanwhile, the little demon’s face was covered in cut marks and one of his eyes was swollen shut.
Barely having the strength to stand on his feet, the little demon leaned on his sword stuck in the ground while panting with all his might to catch his breath. He looked out at the wastelands covered with the bodies of demons and celestial beings everywhere, as if they were rocks.
Kneeling on the ground with his hands prostrate in the dirt, the little demon lowered his gaze as he laughed faintly at Mika's enormous presence. Bitter tears flowed from his eyes, mingling with the ferrous taste of blood that overflowed on his lips.
- “There’s no point in fighting you anymore.” – Raising his sword to deliver the final blow to his enemy’s bare neck, Mika was about to lash out with the sharp edge of the tip at the nape of the demon’s neck, stopping for a brief moment driven by the curiosity that gripped him at that moment.
With the palm of his left hand, the little demon shook off some of the dirt from the ground where he was lying, leaving that space clean, and with the index finger of his right hand, he began to write something that looked like a scribble.
Without taking his eyes off the demon, Mika watched it, rapt, until it finally stopped dead in its tracks. Leaning back slightly, the small creature looked up at the sky, smiling cynically at the god Plegorio.
"Legion?" Out of a brief burst of curiosity, the celestial being spoke the word written on the earth with his lips. At that moment, the little demon was bathed in a purple light that shone across the wasteland.
The blood that bathed the ground was gathering from the corpses of the demons and little by little it was gathering like a sphere that suddenly compacted until it formed a stone as red as a ruby, which in just an instant penetrated the chest of the little demon, fusing with his heart.
The wounds covering his body were closing and where his severed tongue should have been, a new tongue grew, restoring his speech.
- “My name is Legion, because we are many!” – Without giving Mika time to react, the demon’s sword cut off her head in a single slash, making her roll on the ground as her convulsing body fell to her knees before the little Legion.
Raising his sword in victory, the young demon gave a resounding cry of jubilation that was preceded by the applause of his comrades who were still standing, who, driven by their leader's euphoria, charged headlong against the remaining celestial beings, dominating the fierce battle that until recently they had thought lost.
It was then that the sky darkened with ominous storm clouds, and the winds began to blow, laden with static electricity that made the hairs on the demons' skin stand on end. As if an ominous feeling ran through him, Legion looked once more at the throne among the clouds. But the one sitting upon it had completely disappeared from his sight.
- “Chain” – A voice was heard behind the demon, who, unable to do anything to defend himself, was surrounded by chains of light that held his arms and legs until they bent him against the ground.
- “Fantastic! Simply marvelous. Without a doubt, you have given me a spectacle worth appreciating for centuries upon centuries. I congratulate you, little demon, although all your efforts will be in vain.” Clapping his hands, Plegorio smiled angrily, and from among the corpses of his hosts, the celestial beings rose once more full of life.
Stunned by the sight before them, the demons were killed one by one by their defeated enemies, as the young Legion looked on in despair. He screamed so loudly that his throat tore, blood trickling from the corner of his lips.
- “Stop, don’t do it!”
- “Stop me? Do you think a god would listen to the pleas of a pathetic demon? Look closely, observe with your own eyes and burn this moment into your pupils! These are all your brothers being massacred for resisting my will.” – Grabbing him furiously by the hair, Plegorio lifted the demon’s face to force him to watch as each of his kind died brutally at the hands of celestial beings.
"What are you waiting for? Kill me already!" Shedding tears of blood, Legion had surrendered his body as if his strength had left him. His desire to fight had subsided with the final cry of his people, exterminated at the hands of God's troops.
"You will not die; that is a reward bestowed only upon those who never surrender. The only punishment you deserve for defying me is to be confined for all eternity in this very wasteland where you murdered my only son."
- “Pffff. Can’t you revive him like the rest of your puppets? It seems you’re not as powerful a god as you claim.” – Laughing despotically, Legion turned his gaze slightly towards the face of the god Pelgorio, who remained silent with a gloomy expression on his face, murmuring a couple of unintelligible words to the demon’s ears.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
At that instant, Mika's headless corpse rose from the ground and gripped her sword once more. She plunged it into the demon's chest with a single blow until the tip of the metal collided with the bloodstone that had fused with his heart. It shattered into fragments that shot through the air until they disappeared into the horizon.
With that single gesture, the power of Legion's body waned to the point that his wings began to rot and turn to ash and the sharp claws on his hands fell to the ground like leaves from a tree.
- "What are you supposed to be doing? What did you do to me?"
"You were so worried that my son wouldn't be resurrected, little demon. You've moved me with your noble gesture of repentance. To the point that a generous god like myself couldn't turn a deaf ear to your fervent wish. Now my only son and you will be one blood, sharing your heart with the one who gave you your name."
- "Who gave me a name? Legion is my name, I name myself."
- “No, of course not. You didn’t even manage to pronounce that name with your own lips. It was my son Mika who said it. Just as he was named by me and subordinated himself as a good offspring. You were named by him, becoming his subject and consequently, someone subject to me.” – Smiling maliciously, the god Plegorio took the hilt of the sword to Legion’s chest and finished sinking it into his body until it completely disappeared. Causing the demon to scream in agony until he almost fainted completely.
- “This accomplished, now all that was has been and will be.” – The wound in the demon’s chest closed, his skin becoming covered with a viscous substance that crystallized until it created an amber sarcophagus over which the earth accumulated until a mountain rose above it.
- “Become the cornerstone upon which my creation will flourish. Be a witness to the eons that will illuminate the centuries and the history that will be written by my seed. So be it.” – With those words, everything that had been defiled was purified in a single instant, and the celestial beings who until recently had no faces took on human appearances, losing their wings amidst chants of praise.
From north to south and from east to west, the ends of the earth were populated by the descendants of celestial beings, developing their civilization under the watchful eye of the god Plegorio. Upon whom was created the religion that dominated all sentient beings on earth. Thus 3,000 years passed, until the day in question.
It was a sunny day with a splendid blue sky, the green grass of the pasture grew lush on the plain, and the year was well into spring. It was the year 3325 of the unconquered sun of Plegorio, and the continent of Phatos was trembling to its core before the immense military campaign that had ravaged the land for twenty years since its beginning.
Surrounded by the vast ocean, the island continent had been divided from its origins into four great kingdoms that raised their crowns as far as the human eye could see. To the north, enclosed by snow-capped mountains, the kingdom of Philos subsisted on mining and the development of mercenaries, unable to produce its own food due to climatic conditions.
In the southern part of the continent, Phandora stood as a nation prosperous from the blessings bestowed upon it by the warm waters of the southern oceans. From fishing boats to merchant ships that sailed along the continent's coastlines, Phandora was the epitome of what a nation adorned by the deep blue seas should be.
For its part, like a dividing wall that drew the well-defined boundaries of the nations, Phobos to the east and Phi to the west were blood-related kingdoms that maintained a close relationship based on the dominant faith of the church of the god Plegori .
Under the creationist myth of the founding of the continent, both Phobos and Phi claimed that their rulers were direct descendants of the messenger Mika, who had walked the earth during the time of great darkness.
Those were times of peace and prosperity on the continent, all governed by a single faith and a single purpose. But all of that was merely an illusion, a nightmare lulled to sleep by the rocking of a cradle awaiting the time to awaken.
A thousand years ago, the Church of Plegorio faced a schism that shook the foundations of its core faith. On one side, there was an ecclesiastical group that proclaimed the idea of racial purity, teaching in its doctrine the prohibition of interracial marriages. On the other side, the less orthodox group believed that the only impediment to consummating the marriage vow was class differences.
Thus was created the Orthodox Church of Phobos and the Liberal Church of Phi, dividing a single country in two, turning them into ecclesiastical states upon which the faith of the continent rested. With the turbulence caused by the division of the official church, both the Crown of Phobos and the Crown of Phi agreed that each generation a member of their respective royal house should marry to maintain political balance between the two nations.
Under this agreement, peace on the continent lasted until the year 3305, according to the official calendar. This was the date on which Isidora of Phi married Eusebius of Phobos. Everything seemed to proceed as normally as on other occasions.
The Crown Princess of Phi departed with her retinue to the kingdom of Phobos to marry Eusebius, Crown Prince of Phobos. The celebration proceeded normally and was the subject of great festivities in both nations, with the approval of both peoples, who celebrated for days in the main squares on the occasion of the marriage.
But a month after the sacramental act was consummated, a messenger from Phobos arrived at the royal palace of the kingdom of Phi requesting an audience with His Majesty King Sabrok II. The latter, surprised by the sudden visit, gave the order to allow the official messenger entry.
With the royal court present in the throne room, the messenger walked along the central carpet to the monarch's throne, holding in both hands a casket adorned with precious gems which he extended with both arms before the king's presence.
Sabrok II looked at this unusual gift in surprise and ordered his page to take it and bring it to him. Keeping his gaze fixed on the king's face, the messenger kept his right leg planted with his knee on the ground, taking in no detail of what was happening before him.
The moment the page opened the lid of the chest, King Sabrok's face changed into a horrified expression as he jumped up from his throne, taking a step back.
Inside that container, Princess Isidora's decapitated, eyeless head lay with a pained expression. It seemed as though she had been tortured before her head was severed from her body.
The king, filled with fury, gave the order to arrest the messenger, who, seeing how the court guards were approaching him, took a mana stone from his clothes and with a malicious smile smashed it against the ground while shouting: "Glory to the only true faith, long live the Orthodox Church of Phobos!"
The resulting explosion instantly killed the messenger and the guards standing just feet away, shaking the throne room's windows to the point that glass fell to the ground in the blast.
This led to the war between the two nations, in which two coalitions were formed that fought each other relentlessly.
On the one hand, the kingdom of Phobos had the support of the kingdom of Philos, with a supply of precious metals for the manufacture of weapons and a deployment of trained mercenaries with a killer instinct burning for blood.
On the other hand, the kingdom of Phi relied on the aid of Phandora, providing regular troops and food to supply the battlefronts. Likewise, by royal edict from Phi, the coastal cities of Phandora began developing warships, which served to deploy troops by sea to avoid land confrontations and shorten operational times.
Blood and flesh flowed down the slopes of the continent, like crimson rivers bathing the countryside and forests. The sound of metal clashing against body, the smell of burnt gunpowder permeated the air in unison with the explosions of cannons and muskets. That spectacle evoked the fierce pandemonium that occurred in the original creation myth.
After years of war and casualties mounting on both fronts, the nation of Phobos was gradually losing strength due to the famine that ravaged the kingdom of Philos due to the inability of the kingdom of Phobos to supply it with food.
With Phandora's maritime supplies cut off by the drums of war, the kingdom of Philos could no longer focus on training more mercenaries to deploy as contingents for its ally. Without food for the people, the northern nation's war efforts were beginning to shift toward developing its own fishing fleet, handicapped by the harsh Arctic cold typical of the northern part of the country.
After five years of stoic resistance, the nation of Philos surrendered to the unstoppable fate of hunger and internal conflicts stemming from civil war skirmishes. And with that, the nation of Phobos bent its knee to the edge of the Phi nation's sword. A surrender agreement was signed, while the ruling Orthodox clergy were arrested and handed over as the instigators responsible for the murder of Princess Isidora.
With the triumph of the liberal church, the continent redrew the dividing lines, wiping off the map both the kingdom of Phobos and the kingdom of Philia.
On the one hand, the Crown of Phi claimed the territory of Philia and all its mineral resources, subduing the civilian population and eradicating the royal house entirely. For its part, Phandora received the territory of the Kingdom of Phobos, annexing it to its lands as a vassal state at the request of both the Crown of Phi and the head of the surviving official church.
It was the winter of the first month of the year 3326 of the invincible sun of Plegorio, when the cries of the victorious nations resounded in the capitals of both sister kingdoms.
In the royal capital of Phandora, a celebratory banquet was held to welcome the victorious commanders of the war fronts. Some were noble by birth and others of commoner origin, who, with the approval of the crown, would receive honorary titles from the king at the celebration.
Snow piled up in the streets, and the cobblestones of the avenues crumbled with frost that crunched under the carriage wheels of the special guests at the event presided over by His Majesty Gregory III. The warmth of the lights and the fire in the fireplaces contrasted sharply inside the banquet hall against the cold wind howling outside.
Accompanied by the music played by the orchestra, the gathered nobles danced to the musical notes amid laughter and toasts for the special occasion.
Leaning against one of the walls of the room, a beautiful young woman with abundant golden hair drank a glass of cider while watching the other ladies receive invitations to dance.
With a well-defined body, wide hips, and skin as white as snow, her honey-colored eyes rested delicately against her rosy cheeks. She was Elena, the only daughter of the Count of Baldor; a simple girl who had barely turned 18 and had only made her debut in society a couple of months ago.
Despite her dazzling beauty, the fact that she was the daughter of a country nobleman marginalized her compared to other young ladies in her circle. The capital's nobles held a particular dislike for country nobles, who, despite belonging to the nobility, were viewed by their peers in the capital as mere social climbers.
"Oh, just look. But if it's Miss Elena, I hadn't realized she had attended the victory celebration. I apologize, but, dressed in such old-fashioned clothes and leaning against the wall, I thought she was a tasteless ornament." Accompanied by a retinue of noble ladies from the capital, Viviana, the daughter of the Duke of Amadeus, cruelly mocked the young lady from the countryside.
Given her shy nature, Elena did not dare to look up, holding the glass of cider against her chest in a fearful attitude.
- “Pffff. I think a bit of cold air has crept in, otherwise I can’t explain why Miss Baldor is shivering.” – One of Viviana’s companions threw those biting words at Elena, who , in an attempt to leave the place, tripped on the hem of her skirt and spilled part of her drink on Lady Viviana’s clothes.
- “You stupid little thing! Don’t you know this dress was made by Madame Dietrich? It takes months of advance notice to get one of her designs, and you’ve ruined it.” Giving her a slap that left her cheek red, Viviana knocked Elena to the floor as the orchestra stopped the music completely.
Preceded by the brief silence left by the music, murmurs began to echo in the banquet hall, directing all eyes in the direction of both ladies.
Rising from the floor in pain, barely holding onto the wall, Elena held back her tears, trying to salvage some of her honor as a noblewoman. Unable to respond to Viviana's demands, the stupor from the cider was beginning to make her dizzy, nearly causing her to fall again, only to be caught by the waist by a man of imposing appearance.
- "Who are you? Why are you intervening? This is a matter between Miss Baldor and me." Holding the fan tightly in both hands, Viviana's gaze was burning brightly at the man who had suddenly come to Elena's aid.
- "I beg your pardon for my impertinence, beautiful lady. Having recently become a Baron, I am unfamiliar with the proper etiquette appropriate for your sweet duty. My name is Alejandro Barbosa, recently appointed as a noble by Her Majesty this morning." - Upon hearing that name, the ladies accompanying Viviana began to murmur about the knight's background.
Serving as a cavalry captain on the Eastern Front, a humble commoner had made a name for himself with his countless exploits on the battlefield. Slaughtering countless enemies at sword point, riding on horseback or running frantically brandishing his daggers, this soldier earned the nickname "Dark Lightning."
- "It's impossible, it's the famous dark lightning. He's the captain who is said to have defeated several admirals in combat and saved the second prince from the enemy lines, taking a shot while covering him." - One of the ladies on Viviana's left exclaimed in surprise upon seeing the man's face clearly.
With dark skin and reddish hair, his emerald-green eyes contrasted with his full lips and sharp nose. With a body well built for his physical condition, the dress uniform fit him tightly, revealing the imposing muscles tanned by the heat of combat.
- "What a surprise! I didn't expect to see a legend of the battlefield before my eyes. It's a pleasure to meet such a wonderful war hero as you." Her face flushed, Viviana was almost beginning to stutter as she realized the imposing beauty of the knight standing before her.
- “Beautiful lady, allow this humble servant to pay for your brand-new gown. Consider it a gift from me for the privilege of kissing the back of your hand.” Bending his right knee and tilting his head, Alejandro took Viviana’s hand and kissed the skin of her wrist above her glove. It made her shudder to the point where she almost lost her breath.
"In a few days, I will send an emissary to your house to tell you the cost of the dress. For now, please excuse me and allow me to take this young lady with me. I saw Count Baldor a few moments ago. We chatted briefly, and he earnestly asked me to find you so I could take you to him."
With a slight bow, Alejandro took Elena's hand and left the banquet hall heading for one of the annexes of the celebration palace.
Walking beneath the lanterns that illuminated the outer corridor, Elena couldn't contain her amazement at how Sir Alexander had rescued her from that situation. With no experience with the opposite sex, the young lady, barely of age, felt self-conscious at the touch of Barbossa's hand, as he looked at her out of the corner of his eye, smiling, making her heart shudder.
- “Thank you for saving me, Baron Barbosa.”
- “You don’t have to thank me, my fine young lady. It’s a gentleman’s duty to be useful to a lady.” Feeling her heart skip a beat at those words, Elena’s face flushed and she felt the alcohol in the cider go to her head.
Just like the scenes from those romance novels she read in her room, what was happening before her eyes seemed like something out of an impossible dream, and she was letting herself go without realizing that they had already strayed too far from the banquet hall to reach the greenhouse.
- "Excuse me, Baron Barbosa. I don't think this is the way to the reception annexes." Regaining some of her composure, Elena tried to make the young knight understand that they had strayed far from the destination where her father claimed to be.
But far from getting a response from him, she felt a strong pull that threw her to the ground inside the greenhouse.
"Mr. Barbossa?" With a trembling tone in her voice, Elena stared at the man as he closed the greenhouse door behind them. At the same time, he unbuttoned his shirt and removed his white gloves, leaving his hands bare.
- “Pffff. That’s why noblewomen have always seemed so stupid to me. Always looking down on us commoners, but as soon as one mentions a noble title, they magically let their guard down like complete fools.” – Throwing himself savagely at Elena’s body, Barbossa began to shove his right hand under the lady’s skirt, while holding her wrists with his left hand to pin her to the ground.
Unable to cope with the man's strength, Elena screamed for help to the point of becoming hoarse from the sensation of the cold ground soaking her through her dress.
- “Why are you doing this to me?” – With teary eyes and feeling her heart breaking at that moment, Elena begged him to let her go while Alejandro ripped off her panties.
- "Why do I do that? It's simple, you stupid little thing. Tell me, what's the way for a Baron to rise in the noble hierarchy in times of peace? He simply has to take a woman of higher status and inherit her position as a husband."
- “That will never happen! I will not marry a despicable man like you.”
- “Hahahahahaha. How incredulous, it’s as if you believe you have power over something like that. Tell me, do you think your father could marry you off to someone if you’ve already been defiled by another man? Sure, he could file a formal complaint with the palace and have me summoned for a trial. But who do you think the jury will favor? A war hero who saved a member of the crown? Or a rural count?” – With an evil smile on his face, Alejandro penetrated Elena, taking her virginity, and continued thrusting into her despite her begging him to stop.
What was supposed to be a special moment reserved to share with the person I would come to love had turned into a nightmare under the cover of the white snow that frosted the glass of the greenhouse roof.
It was the night of 3326 of the unconquered sun of Plegorio, a night bathed in infamy and contempt.