In retrospect, this was all my fault.
When I think about it now, I realize that I never really stood a chance against her.
Not because she was stronger than I.
She was the Queen of Shadows, the Crimson Catastrophe, the Terrifying Nightmare of the Realm, and all that.
And I was... Well, I was the All-powerful Ascendant.
Grand Mage Dreyfus Belford.
But the one thing I hated most, was fighting.
And that's what made us different.
The Shadow Queen was a name dreaded throughout the entire continent of Westumberland. Tales of her many horrors were used to scare troublesome children to behave.
These tales reached my ears — gruesome stories of chaos and genocide.
She was powerful. Yet, I knew I could defeat her.
If only I had been a little more serious. More decisive.
Thinking about it now, I realize how lazy I was.
When I finally took a stand against her, it was not because I wanted to, but because I was the only one who could.
After she murdered the eight ruling nobles of Westumberland — the Tesseract Council — the Shadow Queen decided to enforce her own rule on the great city of Viridale.
They refused, of course, and in turn, she destroyed the entire city.
With a single breath.
Fifteen million people died on that day.
Men, women, children.
After that, no hero in the entire continent dared to face her.
The Shadow Queen moved on to the city of Brannersport. Out of fear for their lives, the king surrendered, and the people reluctantly submitted to her rule.
Most of the citizens escaped the city in secret and, together with the survivors of the Viridale Catastrophe, came seeking the grand mage to save their city.
I was their last hope.
Or so I was told.
"What did you say her name was?" I asked the group.
They all froze, afraid to even utter a single syllable of her name. But one of them, a weary-looking Virilian survivor who seemed to be the leader of the group, walked up to me and spoke.
"No one knows her real name, but she is a descendant of House Daevalia."
Daevalia - That was a name I had not heard in a very long time.
I immediately recalled the stories of House Daevalia, the most powerful house that ever walked on this earth.
Bold as I was, I began to shudder in my seat. A wave of tiny goosebumps covered both my arms.
"The noble House of Deavalia was destroyed decades ago," I recalled.
"She wields their power, Grand Mage. I saw it with my own eyes."
"Can't be. Dark Affinity has long been extinct."
"She used it to destroy my city, Grand Mage. Only a noble of House Daevalia can wield Dark Magic."
He was right about that.
When I was a young mage, I had sought to acquire the knowledge and skills of the eight great houses. I mastered seven of them, but I knew almost nothing about the Dark Magic of House Daevalia.
It was said that they wielded strange powers to control even death. But all of them had been killed in the last great noble war, and all their knowledge had died with them.
I had no idea what I was going up against, but out of concern for the safety of the world, I accepted their offer.
I accepted to face the Shadow Queen.
It was a two-day ride to Brannersport from my manor, so after a good night's rest, we set off at dawn.
I could have teleported right to the city, but I chose not to, deciding instead to use the time on our journey to think up a strategy — a strategy to neutralize the Shadow Queen.
Without fighting, of course.
It was a decision I came to regret.
After a day's ride, we arrived at the central grassy plains, and there we settled for the night. Dusk had fallen upon us, accompanied by the cold winds of winter.
Later on, I called on the leader of the Viridale party and the young leader of the Brannersport party to finalise my strategy.
Together, we took a walk on the hills surrounding the plains.
"Are there any magic wielders among you?"
The young Branner replied, in a thick Northern accent. "There are three among us, Grand Mage. Two from Brannersport."
I expected less. With all my sensory powers, I could barely detect any aura from the members of the party. If there were any magic wielders, they were surely E-rank or lower.
"What about manpower?"
"We sent letters to the nobles, Grand Mage... "
"Wait..." I cut him off, shaking my head. "Could you stop calling me Grand Mage?"
"But... you are the Grand Mage."
"I know, I know, but just call me Drey, or Belford."
"Understood, Lord Belford."
"No... Not Lord. I'm not a noble."
"But, the legends say your powers..."
"Just call me Belford."
"Yes, Sir Belford."
"No... I'm not a knight either."
"But, the legends say your sword skills are..."
"Forget the legends. Just call me Belford."
"Understood, Master Belford."
I slapped my forehead in disappointment.
"So, you sent letters to the remaining nobles?"
"Yes, Master."
"And?"
"Their replies were the same. They need their armies to defend their cities."
Of course. The nobles of the great houses of Westumberland were never really known for their selflessness.
"None of that matters if the Shadow Queen decides to take them out one by one," I murmured in disappointment.
My original plan to quickly neutralize the Shadow Queen would have worked if I had had the numbers for a distraction. Regardless, I made up my mind to take on the Shadow Queen alone.
"What about the people of Brannersport? Surely they'd want to help us. It is their city that needs saving."
The young Branner nodded affirmatively.
"The king of Brannersport agreed to rise against the Shadow Queen. On the condition that you agreed to help us."
"Alright then. We'll send a message to him when we arrive."
"No need, Master. I already sent a raven to Brannersport."
That was the exact moment I knew something was wrong.
From the time we made camp in the plains, I could sense it — a cold, unwavering presence, hidden somewhere in the plains.
I knew how cold the winter winds could be, but that night I sensed the temperature was much, much colder.
At that moment, I finally realized what it was.
A cloaking spell!
One powerful enough to fool me.
I turned to the young Branner.
"When did you send the Raven?"
"The moment we left, Master."
That was more than enough time to reach Brannersport.
More than enough time to reach the Shadow Queen!
"Both of you, head back to the camp now!" I ordered.
I assumed the Shadow Queen would come after me alone, but I underestimated how evil she was.
The human screams that reached my ears were painful and horrible.
We picked up the pace, but long before we reached the camp, I could already scent the putrid stench of blood in the air.
It was a horrible sight.
Every single tent and every blade of grass in the area had been covered in blood.
There were no survivors.
I turned to the leaders of the party — both men were frozen with terror written all over their faces.
"The Shadow Queen has found us," I said, rather nonchalantly. "You need to run."
Both men took to their heels, not looking back for a second.
When they left, I decided to focus on finding the source of the cloaking spell.
That's when I heard her voice.
"Those two will never get far enough. No one runs away from me."
Her voice was the coldest, most diabolical sound I had ever heard in my life.
Slowly, I turned to face the woman whose entire reputation was born and bathed in blood.
I am ashamed to say it, but when I first laid my eyes on her, the first thing I thought was:
"What a beautiful woman."
In reality, she was.
The most noticeable thing about her was her long, wavy black hair, which flowed all the way down to her lower back.
She shrouded herself in a long black tunic, which completely hid her legs, but did nothing to hide the two beautiful melons that bulged out of her chest.
Yes, she was beautiful. But when I stared into her cold, unfeeling eyes, my chest tightened with fear.
I had to remind myself of the countless lives she took, and that gave me the courage to face her properly.
"You must be Lady Daevalia. The Shadow Queen."
"And you must be my next victim," she quipped back.
I could sense the bitterness in her voice, subtly masked by a bloodlust aura.
"Didn't think there was a mage as powerful as me."
"Didn't think the Grand Mage would be so old."
Old? I was barely thirty-six.
Now I was pissed.
Closing my eyes, I mentally conjured a spell and summoned a heavenly sword born of pure light.
"Your atrocious deeds have gone unchecked for too long, Daevalia. It's time you pay the price."
The atmosphere grew even colder, and a faint smile appeared on the Shadow Queen's face.
"Are you threatening me, Grand Mage?"
"It's not a threat," I replied coldly. "It's a promise."
Dark as it was, I could sense the black, intimidating aura radiating from the Shadow Queen.
"I must warn you, Grand Mage. No one threatens me and lives another day."
Then I heard her lips utter the most dreaded spell in all Westumberland.
"Dark Release: Summoning the gates of hell."