Ale's journey: The rise of an adventurer

The night was strangely calm, almost oppressive. The stars seemed to hold their breath, watching from a distance as the drama unfolded below. In the darkness, the imperial castle loomed tall and majestic, like a shadow against the black sky, its towers nearly touching the heavens.

Inside, the halls were silent, save for the occasional muffled whispers. In front of a massive, gold-ornamented door, a young man with a strained expression was pacing nervously. Crown Prince Hadrien, the future of the Empire, was anxiously waiting for news from within. Behind that door, his wife was struggling to give birth to their child: their first heir. But the eerie calmness of the castle only heightened the anxiety gripping his heart.

Beside him stood his general and personal guard, Valen Ardyn, a man of unshakable loyalty, watching the scene with growing concern. The atmosphere was heavy, thick with ominous signs. The general finally broke the silence, his deep voice betraying the urgency of the situation.

"My prince, we must leave. Emperor... he suspects you of treason, of plotting a coup. The soldiers have already surrounded the castle." The prince, stunned, shook his head, refusing to believe it.

"That's impossible... I haven't done anything like that!"

"I know, my prince," the general replied firmly. "But the orders are clear. The emperor wants you to surrender. Nobles of the royal court, as well as close associates among your allies, have accused you of a coup plot. I don't know how far this betrayal extends, but the accusations are grave. Resisting would be pointless; it would only worsen your situation. We must leave now."

The prince felt a lump form in his throat. The very idea that any of this could be true seemed impossible to him. Doubt, insidious and suffocating, crept into his mind, making it hard to breathe.

"If only Redès were here… perhaps Father would regain his senses." His brother, whom he considered his best friend, the one who had protected and cherished him throughout their childhood, was absent at this crucial moment. Sent on a mission far from the capital just days ago, Hadrien longed for his presence to help calm their father.

The prince glanced at the door.

"If I flee now, wouldn't that be conceding to those who betrayed me?" he murmured, his voice broken by doubt.

The general, his gaze grave, placed a firm yet comforting hand on his shoulder. "Your innocence can be proven in due time, my prince. But if you stay here, you won't live long enough to defend your honor. Flee now; your life depends on it."

The prince hesitated, his mind clouded by the whirlwind of events crashing around him. The castle, once a symbol of safety and power, was quickly becoming a deadly prison.

Suddenly, a cry pierced the oppressive silence of the castle. A new cry, fragile yet filled with the promise of life. The crown prince froze, his heart pounding in his chest. An heir had been born. Was it a prince or a princess? It didn't matter. He couldn't wait any longer.

With trembling hands, he flung open the door to the chamber, desperate to hold his wife and their child. But as soon as he stepped inside, the scene before him froze him in place. The midwife, her face solemn, held out a swaddled infant. Around the bed, the maids wept silently, tears streaming down their faces, their bodies shaking with stifled sobs.

The prince moved forward slowly, almost in a state of shock. His wife, the princess, lay there, her face deathly pale. She hadn't survived the childbirth. In that instant, the prince's world collapsed. His eyes filled with tears, a profound sadness mingling with the bittersweet joy of becoming a father.

Gently, he took the child from the midwife's hands, holding the baby close as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he leaned down to place one final kiss on the cold forehead of his beloved.

With a heavy heart, he stood tall and turned to his loyal guard, Valen, who stood quietly in the corner, watching the scene unfold with silent sorrow. The prince gently held out the baby to him. Then, he removed the precious necklace from around his neck and carefully placed it around his child's.

"This is the necklace your mother gave me on our first date, a symbol of our love and our promise to always watch over each other. May it protect you, as she protected me."

"Valen," he whispered, his voice broken with emotion, "take this child. Leave through the secret passage. Raise them as your own. Protect them from all this. Live a peaceful, quiet life, far away from this tragedy."

Valen accepted the child with infinite care, his eyes filled with unshed tears. He said nothing, but his face spoke of a silent vow, one of unbreakable loyalty. Bowing deeply in respect and farewell, he turned and rushed into the dark corridor. Yet, at the last moment, he glanced back, as if he wanted to say something. But no words came. Finally, he disappeared into the shadows, the child held tightly against him.

The prince stood there, alone in the freezing room, the weight of his loss crushing him. Fate had torn away everything he held dear, and yet, he knew his duty wasn't finished. He had to protect this child, his child, even at the cost of his own life.

The prince, overwhelmed by pain, anger, and betrayal, felt increasingly cornered. He knew that no matter his choice, the walls were closing in on him. But before making a fateful decision, he had to ensure the truth was known, and that his child would be protected.

In the privacy of his chamber, the prince grabbed a piece of parchment. A cold determination marked his movements as he cut his hand, letting his own blood write the words that would become his final message.

Each letter was imbued with the agony of betrayal but also the unyielding strength of his convictions. He proclaimed his innocence with heart-wrenching clarity, revealing the evidence he had gathered against those who had conspired to overthrow him.

Suspicious and uncertain, he no longer knew whom to trust, even among his closest allies, the Five Geniuses with whom he had fought for years. Together, they had forged the legend of the Great Expansion, driving back the monsters and the followers of the Spirit of Darkness. But now, doubt gnawed at him.

The prince then summoned his most loyal soldiers and commanded them to deliver this letter beyond the borders, to a neutral nation, far from the empire's intrigues. He wanted the truth to be exposed for the world to see, for everyone to know what had really happened.

"Publish this letter openly," he said in a calm yet resolute voice. "Let the world know that I am innocent. One day, my child must learn the truth, and it will be up to you to ensure that this truth survives."

"At your command, we will carry out this mission, no matter the cost, even at the risk of our lives." The soldiers swore their oath and dispersed.

With his orders given, the prince knew the time had come. He stood tall, his face set with determination. He commanded his men to follow him, not to fight, but to accompany him in what would be his final act as a prince.

They walked together through the dark corridors of the castle, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the heavy silence. When they reached the great courtyard, the general sent by the emperor was waiting for them, surrounded by soldiers in armor, ready to capture the prince.

The prince stepped forward alone, standing tall before the general, his gaze proud despite the pain that consumed him. He addressed him with a dignity that silenced the murmurs of the gathered soldiers.

"I beg you to spare my men," he said, his voice firm. "They have only followed me out of loyalty."

The general, taken aback by the gravity of the situation, remained silent. He had known the prince for a long time and was fully aware that this man would never surrender without conditions.

Without waiting for a response, the prince slowly drew his sword. The soldiers around him froze, unsure of what was about to unfold. With one last glance toward the chamber where his wife rested, he raised the sword to his throat. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment to gather his courage.

Then, in one swift and decisive motion, he slit his own throat. Blood gushed forth, and the prince collapsed to the ground, his lifeless body falling before the general and his own soldiers, who stood stunned by the tragic scene that had just unfolded.

The silence that followed was deafening, each soldier realizing the magnitude of the sacrifice they had just witnessed. The prince was dead, but he had chosen his end. He had preserved his honor and left behind the keys to restore the truth.

The general, shaken, commanded the soldiers not to touch the prince's body and to let his men leave in peace, honoring the last wish of the man who had preferred death over submission.