The little shit was likely dead. With eyes far larger than his stomach, it was little wonder Aaron would find himself consumed. Still, Theodor Crest had been put to task. When the Vanquishing Drake issued his orders, questioning them was not an option. Unlike his dearly departed younger brother, Theodor knew the proper order of things—his was not to question why, his was to secure his household's pride.

Whether the bugger had brought about his own demise was of little consequence to the Crest Household. All that mattered was what was proper. It was not fitting for even the most disgraceful heir to a Lord to perish while any commoners survived. Theodor would do as told and correct that injustice. It was no bother, he had long grown tired of the Necroregnum anyway.

While his older brother oversaw Vanguard Territories graced with sandy shores and the golden hues of a cloudless day-sun, and his younger sister luxuriated in idle days being pampered and served within the main estate, he had been banished to a land of eternal night.

Lightning never ceased, the dead never lay still—this Necroregnum was a nightmare from which he had waited three long years to awaken. At long last, he had been recalled from his station. Even if the cause was beneath him, he would not decline the opportunity to once more see the light of day.

'We approach the Flight, sir,' one of his men called out from the head of the carriage.

Accompanied by the dregs that could be spared by the Black Drake's main force within the fifteenth Floor, Theodor rode across rocky terrain, the rapid crunch of the Infernal-Steeds' hoofs grinding on jagged stone as the carriage wheels whirred onward.

For days he had travelled, his path across unsteady overpasses and searing rivers of tar marked, not in hours, but by persistent irritation.

Perhaps they could not see that he had a window—ebony monoliths blurring as the carriage sped forward. Perchance, they believed he was ignorant of the terrain—he had only spent three years within the barren lands, after all. Whatever the cause, it irked him that the obvious had not gone unannounced.

He did not need to be notified of his position, nor instructed to prepare for the significance of their arrival. He knew quite well that no path leading out of the Vanguard Territories was ever left unguarded.

'Sir, the Corpse-Groom approaches,' the same vexatious voice cried out, his tone sharp with dread.

'How unexpected!' Theodor wailed, his tone dripping with derision. 'Could they not have spared someone competent?' he grumbled, his voice nearly lost to the crack of thunder resounding through the night.

'Go easy on them, Theo. They're still new to all this.' Octavia said, her fingers over her lips as she chuckled lightly.

Octavia sat upon the velvety bench opposite him, her scarlet hair cascading over her shoulders. Though slight of frame, seemingly too delicate to touch, Theodor knew her appearance was deceiving. He would not have chosen her as his commander otherwise.

Already, she was preparing for the battle ahead—her violet-petal embroidered dress melting beneath black-scaled plating until she stood fully donned in the signature armour of the guild. Diligent as ever, she clasped charms to her ears, their faint glow hinting at enchantments woven into bone and silver. Her ivory-bone sickle coalesced in her grip, the weapon through which she could summon skeletal warriors to her side. Yet none of it would be necessary. Theodor had no need of her assistance to dispatch something as trifling as the Abomination ahead.

The carriage ground to a halt, the Infernal-Steeds braying and stamping their forelegs as jagged stones clattered beneath their hooves.

'Wait here, would you? This will not take long,' he mumbled, motioning for Octavia to retake her seat as he moved toward the carriage door.

'That's not how this works,' she replied, trailing Theodor down the carriage steps. 'I go where you go—your esteemed father wouldn't have us part,' she added, a sliver of ridicule lining her otherwise earnest intonation.

Theodor pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. He could not understand his father's fixation with pomp and ceremony. Had he been permitted to journey alone, he would already be at Stone Garden's steps, returned at last to the estate. With women and wine in abundance, he would indulge for a time before stomping down the unruly upstart the moment he departed the Dungeon-Cell.

Havoc Gray. The name drifted through his thoughts, leaving him uncertain whether to be grateful to the clod for granting him leave of the Necroregnum or incensed that he was the cause of his present irritation. Whichever it was, it changed nothing. The runt was slated to die—the mighty House of Crest would crush him beneath its heel.

Guildsmen poured from the surrounding carriages, each raising their arms in hasty salutes as Theodor and Octavia approached.

'Your orders, sir?' blurted his coachman, his hands shaking as his wide eyes peered toward the charred horizon, gaze locked onto the approaching horror.

'Yes, of course,' Theodor replied, directing the man toward the assembling formation of guildsmen. 'It is crucial you heed my every word. In fact, all of you—I need your attention,' he called out, drawing the gazes of his men as he took his position in front of them. 'Now, I need you all to stand right where you are, looking oh-so-very frightened while I go and defeat that thing.'

'Was that really necessary, Theo?' Octavia asked as she took to his side.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

'Yes,' he replied, sparing her a moment's glance before directing his focus ahead.

Shrouded in plumes of billowing smog, the Corpse-Groom streaked across the sky, its skeletal arms and flame-veiled skull piercing through the pitch-dark fumes. It made for an intimidating sight. Though he did not appreciate his men's trepidation, it could at least be understood.

The Black Drake Guild held territories across five floors of the Vanguard—it was a formidable band, their armies numbering tens of thousands. Led by the Vanquishing Drake himself, under the guiding claws of the Black Dragon, few could hear their esteemed name without a shiver running down their spine. Yet while the Guild's fearsome reputation swelled its ranks year after year, it also diminished the quality of new recruits.

For many of Theodor's escorts, this was their first excursion into the Vanguard—their re-deployment permitted only because they could be spared. He had not bothered to familiarise himself with most of the rabble under his charge—too many expired before they could cut their teeth in real battle. But he remembered some of their faces, though none he recalled had resided in the city-fortress for more than a few months.

They will not fare well through a cataclysm, he mused, recalling the tears and screams that had marked the previous city's annihilation.

The Corpse-Groom's strangled wail cut through the air, its tortured howls trailing behind the shrieks of the white-clad ghouls chained to its sides.

'You again!' the Abomination roared.

'Disgraceful husband,' one of the chained ghouls cried.

'Useless husband,' the other squalled.

'Foiled by something so tiny,' the first ghoul scolded.

Theodor stepped beneath the Abomination as it arrived, its colossal shadow sprawling across the ground. He tilted his head upward, meeting the burning orbs set deep within the Corpse-Groom's eye sockets.

'Must we do this each time?' he moaned, exasperation weighing in his voice. 'By the Stewards, avail yourself of a day's respite.'

'He mocks you!' one of the wives spat.

'Pathetic husband, belittled by a thing,' the other wife added.

'You shall not mock my might!' the Abomination groaned, its voice almost drowned out by the shrill sneers of its wedded tormentors.

Theodor did not harbour any true hope of reasoning with the Abomination. Though they possessed consciousness, their souls were too twisted—their minds too warped by malice—to apply reason. Perhaps, when the creature had first turned, it might have clung to some semblance of sanity. But with each rebirth, an Abomination fell further into madness, its fractured soul splintering a little more with every return.

Still, it would have been nice, he silently grumbled as fractured bones shimmered into existence. Piece by piece, they aligned, slotting together as though a macabre puzzle, forming into a dragon's skull.

He would have preferred to be stationed anywhere else, yet he could admit the Necroregnum was not without its worth. Within the countless catacombs burrowed deep beneath the earth, there were treasures in abundance.

Naturally, the most valuable acquisitions were to be handed over without delay, escorted by the collectors to be secured within the Guild's treasury. But that did not mean a piece would not go unaccounted for here and there.

The Dread-Dragon's Maw was one such prize of which his father had no need to learn. True, it was a Prime Remnant of astounding power, but only suited to the Champion Rank of Inheritance. While it could be copied, in his experiments, each iteration had been inherently flawed. The clones degraded to the Servant Rank yet demanded the Harmony wielded by a Soldier. They were altogether worthless to the Guild—he had done his house a service by retaining the artefact.

'Shall we commence our proceedings?' Theodor murmured with languid disdain, dark, leathered wings tearing from his back as he rose effortlessly to the Corpse-Groom's level, the dragon's skull hovering beside his shoulder.

'You dare command me!' the Abomination bellowed, winds lashing as its titanic hand swept toward Theodor. Yet before it could swat him aside like an insect, the arm shattered, its splintered pieces clattering below like shards of glass.

'Our pitiful husband is wounded!'

'You will not harm our worthless husband!'

The ghouls' desiccated, shrivelled faces contorted with fury as they lunged through the air toward their groom's assailant, their bridal gowns billowing behind them.

Theodor drifted through the air, dispassionately evading the wives' frantic assault. Scarlet points of light ignited within the dragon's sockets as he surged Harmony into the skull. With a wave of his arms, the shattered bones carpeting the ground clattered together, reforming the limb it had once been. Seizing one of the undead brides within the skeletal hand, he commanded its grip to tighten.

'Save me, my miserable spouse!' the captured ghoul wept.

'Sister!' the other wife screeched.

Yet their cries went unanswered, the cadaverous grip clamping down, soaking the earth with viscous black as the Abomination groaned, as though a weight had been loosed from its shoulders.

The flames veiling the Abomination's skull burned brighter as one of its chains crumbled to dust. Seized by an invisible force, the creature wrested control of its reassembled arm from Theodor's command, the limb snapping back into place at its joint.

Spreading its arms wide, flames erupted around the guildsmen, their upturned gazes drawn toward the new threat.

From within the towering inferno, the dead emerged—skeletal swordsmen marching forth from the blaze.

'Should I take care of it, sir?' Octavia bellowed from the ground, her teasing lilt discernible even from a distance.

There really was no need, Theodor sighed, even as he glimpsed Octavia's ghoulish summons break from the ground to battle the skeletons.

He had indulged in sport long enough but would delay no longer in leaving this dreary place. Even if his return to the Settled Floors was to fulfil a mission, he did not anticipate that crushing one Servant peasant would take much time at all. If the boy had backing, it would be a different matter, but he was a Gray—an orphaned son of Stone Garden. With no support or protection—no household or guild sheltering the youth—Theodor would make quick work of the clod and would be undoubtedly returned to the Vanguard.

If he was to indulge in this respite, there was little time to spare—he could waste no more on such an insipid obstacle.

With the taste of wine and sweet-meats already whetting his tongue—flavours sought but scarcely found within the Necroregnum—he unleashed his full might, the skeletal swordsmen shattering into jagged pieces, driven through the skull of the Abomination.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.