The king completely ignored Nai's grief and the absence of her parents. Without ceremony, he spoke about the continuation of the family's business—as if they were mere commodities on a board.

Soon, his words grew sharp, and his tone, offensive.

"You, Nai and Mateo, should feel privileged to receive this chance," said the king, his gaze settling with disdain on Mateo. "After all, not just anyone is born with the blessing of death and lives to tell the tale. Your place is one of servitude. Abandoned by your own parents, were you not?"

Nai clenched her fists. An uncomfortable silence dominated the room until she whispered to Mateo:

"Let's get out of here."

Mateo hesitated, a mix of anger and determination burning in his chest. The public humiliation filled him with a contained fury. They endured a few more minutes of the king's provocations.

Then came the final blow.

The king studied Nai for a moment, his gray eyes inscrutable.

"Your father was a visionary, Nai. But visionaries are often blind to the true cost of their ideals. He sabotaged a project that could have elevated humanity, condemning us to eternal dependence on the whims of the gods. His death, though tragic, prevented a civil war. Sometimes, the sacrifice of a few is the price for the stability of many."

The speech was not a crude insult, but a cold, calculated statement that treated her parents' lives as a mere spent resource. To Nai, this was far worse.

Mateo stammered, almost voiceless: "Let's go, Nai."

She ignored him.

With a fierce leap, she vaulted onto the table, drew the training sword from her sheath, and pressed the sharp blade against the king's neck. Her eyes were living flames, and for a moment, silence took hold of the room.

"Shut up," she ordered, ignoring the king's words, which became increasingly desperate and hollow.

The royal guards, outraged, surged forward in a violent impulse, but Nai remained immobile, impassive, until one got too close.

Quickly, with a dry, deadly strike, she slit the first guard's throat. Blood gushed forth, and the body fell lifeless to the floor, the head rolling to the side.

Chaos exploded in the room.

The other guards charged at them, but before they could react, something strange happened.

One attacked Mateo with his sword, but in an instant, the blade melted, as if the invisible fire of his Ki had burned the metal.

A suffocating heat took over the room, causing many guards to stagger and faint.

The king remained conscious, terrified, but unharmed.

Nai, taking a deep breath, stared at the king with fire-filled eyes:

"You'd better not come after us."

And so, like shadows, Mateo and Nai fled the castle.

The smell of blood and gunpowder hung in the air as they ran through the narrow streets of the capital.

Upon reaching the inn where Salda awaited them, they reported everything: the insults, the threat, the escape.

Salda, serious, said:

"You cannot stay here. This kingdom is no longer safe for you. We must go to Maiko or Britain, where justice still breathes."

They agreed to leave at dawn.

But the peace was short-lived.

Before they could sleep, the door was violently kicked in.

"NAI... MATEO... YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR MURDER AND THREATENING THE ROYALTY!"

Without thinking, Nai and Mateo escaped through the window, while Salda stayed behind, calculating their chances.

In the dark and treacherous streets, they hid among alleyways and shadows.

About 25 minutes into their flight, they stumbled upon a knight's camp searching for them.

They found themselves facing a military encampment. By the firelight, they could see the insignias of Britain's Royal Guard on the shields. They were greater in number and better organized than the castle guards.

"Search the bushes! The reward is for them, dead or alive!" one shouted.

A soldier broke away from the group, aiming his spear precisely at the bush where Nai and Mateo were crouching. Without hesitation, Mateo acted. He leapt like a demon from the darkness, his dagger finding the man's throat before a sound could be made. The body fell with a dull thud.

"He found them!" someone yelled, and the entire camp rose to arms.

That's when something in Mateo snapped. The rage, the humiliation, the thirst for power... it all overflowed. His eyes glowed with a sickly scarlet light.

"Careful, Nai," he whispered, with a smile that was not his own. "Tonight is going to turn red."

The field became a sea of bodies and blood.

They looted horses, supplies, and vanished into the darkness, heading for Britain—away from the capital that now hunted them.

The cold night wind enveloped them as they rode the stolen horses, their eyes fixed on the horizon.

The future was uncertain, the pursuit relentless.

But Mateo and Nai were stronger—and darker—than ever.

And the journey had only just begun.