Two years had passed since the sky turned crimson above the Capital of Sorriso. Two years in which Lukas and Leli wandered through the Bragan?a Empire, carrying in their eyes a fury no one dared to face for long.

  Every village they entered, every city they crossed, was the same: people lowering their eyes, others whispering among themselves.

  — *It’s them… the children of the Thunder Phantom.* — *The orphans of the Capital of Sorriso.* — *Poor children…*

  Until Leli’s voice, once sweet, cut through the air like cold steel:

  — *Shut your mouths. All of you.*

  And silence fell upon the streets.

  There was no kindness left. No childhood. The fall of Sorriso had burned it all away.

  Rumors spread like rats through a starving city: — *When Sorriso fell, the North struck.* — *The Kingdoms of the Roraima Mountains invaded the borders.* — *The Empire lost half of its fortresses.* — *The Emperor and his daughter died in the capital, devoured by monsters.* — *Neither Kyros nor the ancient heroes remain to save us…* — *Who will be Emperor now?* — *The Empire will collapse…*

  But no one dared speak when the two siblings walked by, their steps leaving tracks of mud and blood.

  Two years had passed. Two years in which Lukas fought every single day.

  No rest. No mercy. Not even the luxury of light sleep.

  He faced bandits, monsters, raiders, northern soldiers, beasts from ruins, and even corrupted patrols of the Empire itself. He did not lose a single battle.

  With each fight, his hands trembled less. His strikes grew sharper. His heart colder. His eyes emptier.

  One moonless night, Lukas descended alone into a den where fourteen raiders hid. They had taken whole families hostage. Men screamed, women sobbed. Leli tried to stop him. He went in anyway.

  When he emerged, covered in blood, he said nothing.

  Leli looked at the corpses. None had survived. Even the eyes of the dead seemed frozen in terror.

  The next morning, Lukas repeated his training — barefoot in the mud, hacking at tree trunks with a cracked gladius until his muscles screamed and his palms bled.

  He roared like a caged beast:

  — *IF I WERE STRONGER, SORRISO WOULDN’T HAVE FALLEN!* — *IF I WERE STRONGER, MY FATHER WOULD STILL BE ALIVE!* — *IF I WERE STRONGER, SHE WOULDN’T HAVE TO LIVE LIKE THIS!*

  Each strike shattered bark. Each scream grew hoarser. Until finally, Lukas collapsed to his knees in the mud.

  — *I am a failure…*

  But then he lifted his head, his chest full of fire.

  — *I will become a shield with divine defense…* — *And strike like a surgeon’s blade.* No pity. No hesitation. Only rage. Only the intent to kill.

  — *They took it from me. They took it from us.*

  The next day, when he faced a troop of bandits who had seized a village, their leader begged:

  — *I… I beg you… spare me…*

  — *I have no mercy.* — *They took that from me.*

  When it ended, the ground was painted red. And even those he had saved looked at Lukas with fear.

  He was no hero. He was a curse made flesh.

  Leli no longer smiled.

  And Lukas noticed.

  — *If I were stronger… my sister wouldn’t have to carry this silence… this lost childhood.*

  Her smile was gone forever.

  One night, under a storm, Lukas raised his voice to the heavens:

  — *AAAAAAAHHHH!* — *Where were you?!* — *Luiz… Valquíria… Alex… Selene…* — *YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE!* — *If you had come to the festival… maybe… maybe everything would be different!*

  Leli hugged him, silently, for the last time.

  After that night, there were no more hugs. Only battles.

  Two years had passed.

  When they reached the Capital of Bragan?a, the sky was heavy with omens. The gates half-ruined, the walls draped in enemy banners. Screams of war filled the streets as monsters and barbarians looted and slaughtered.

  Without hesitation, Lukas raised his sword. Without hesitation, Leli raised her rapier.

  And thus began the bloodiest reconquest.

  The northern soldiers stormed the streets, roaring. Beastmen cloaked in black pelts. Barbarians covered in tattoos. Many dragged women by the hair, treating them as cattle.

  — *FIGHT, FOR BRAGAN?A!* — cried a captain of the Empire, before a massive club crushed him.

  Then the demon appeared.

  Lukas walked slowly, his eyes empty. Each step sounded like a judge’s sentence. When a barbarian swung a club, Lukas tilted his head aside. The sword rose and fell. The man’s head rolled away, his scream trapped in his throat.

  — *S-stop! It’s him!* — a soldier shouted. — *The Son of Thunder!*

  But it was too late.

  Lukas advanced. His blade slashed throats, split chests, crushed ribs. His arms moved like machines. No pity. No mercy.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  — *Please… forgive me…* — sobbed a beastman.

  Lukas’ eyes flared like embers. His voice chilled the air:

  — *Do you want to know why you are so weak? Do you want to know how I became this?*

  Silence.

  — *Because while you plundered and slept… I trained. I fought until my bones broke. Until my blood turned to mud. Even when my body begged for rest… I rose. When I fell… I stood again. When my mind screamed that I was worthless, I drove my sword deeper. I never lost a battle. I refused to lose. That is why you…* — he raised the blade — *…will die like dogs.*

  Terror spread. Some dropped their weapons. Others whispered prayers.

  — *He’s a monster…* — muttered a barbarian.

  — *No.* — Lukas corrected, stepping closer. — *I am the price you never wanted to pay.*

  And his blade split the man in two.

  That day, he earned his name: **The Blood Demon.**

  At his side, Leli struck with flawless grace. Her rapier pierced necks and hearts, faster than the eye could follow. When the dust settled, the survivors whispered another name: **The Queen of the Sword.**

  Together, they became living legends.

  Years of war turned the South to ashes. Sorriso was dust.

  And then came the final day.

  In the ruined throne hall of Bragan?a, a barbarian giant named **Urgan the Crusher** sat laughing on the Emperor’s corpse. At his side stood a woman with white hair and eyes sharp as blades — **Aelia, the Legendary Sword.**

  When Lukas entered, the broken doors collapsed behind him.

  — *Who are you?* — Urgan growled, lifting his axe.

  — *I am…* — Lukas advanced — *the death you carved with your own hands.*

  The barbarian roared, swinging with earth-shaking force. Lukas waited until the last breath, then slipped aside — his blade severing Urgan’s wrist. The giant howled, but Lukas’ second strike tore open his ribs.

  — *Please…* — Urgan choked.

  — *Die.*

  The blade slit his throat to the spine.

  At the same moment, Leli’s rapier pierced Aelia’s chest. The legend’s eyes widened.

  — *You brought this war.* — Leli whispered. — *Now live with the cost.*

  Her blade ripped free.

  And silence claimed the hall.

  Before the whole army, Lukas and Leli stood as victors.

  Days later, the new Emperor was crowned: **Deodoro Bragan?a.** Young, arrogant, yet trembling before them.

  When his gaze lingered on Leli, Lukas stepped forward.

  — *Look away.* His voice was cold, heavy as iron. — *I don’t care if you’re Emperor. If you use your power for anything… you’ll be next.*

  Deodoro paled, legs shaking.

  — *I… swear… before the Pope and the Cardinal… I would never dare…*

  The Pope raised his hand.

  — *So be it, recorded in the Rings of Faith.*

  That day, no one dared contest the Blood Demon.

  The sun set behind rebuilt walls. New banners waved. Crowds cheered, flowers rained, trumpets blared.

  Lukas and Leli walked side by side, their armor soaked in dried blood.

  — *It’s them…* — *The heroes of the end…* — *The Demon and the Queen…*

  But Lukas felt nothing. Not the applause. Not the cries. Not the roses.

  Only the Tower of the Unfortunate.

  At the heart of the square, two figures appeared among the legions: **Luiz, the Crimson Heart**, now a general, his scarlet aura burning like a living flame. And **Valquíria, the Trevo**, queen of war.

  The four siblings faced one another.

  Luiz lowered his voice:

  — *Lukas… Leli… It’s true, then. You became monsters.*

  Valquíria’s eyes narrowed:

  — *You are no longer the children we left behind.*

  The silence was suffocating. Ash swirled in the wind.

  Finally, Lukas spoke, his tone sharper than steel:

  — *Do you want to know how I became this? How I turned into what you call Demon?*

  No one answered. Not even the veterans could meet his gaze.

  — *Because for two years… I fought without losing a single battle. Because even when my body broke, I rose. Even when my insides tore apart, I endured. I trained every day… so I would never forget the night I lost everything.*

  He breathed slowly, calm as a blade about to strike.

  — *That is how the boy you knew died. And this… was born.*

  Valquíria had no reply. Luiz looked away.

  And while the people cheered, the siblings stood in silence under the twilight.

  The Empire was saved. But peace had been bought with the death of every dream.

  And in the ruins of the North, the **Tower of the Unfortunate** still cast its shadow.

  Because Lukas would never forget. Nor forgive.

  End of Chapter 2