CHAPTER 1 DEMERIA
832 Words
Breathe
Breathe.
Breathe.
In this world, who would have believed if someone mentioned that a blissful kingdom is going to be destroyed soon. If anyone heard this they would have laughed right at their face and made them forget their own tongue. But they would never have felt that it was going to happen. Their warmth smiles slackened to ashes with agony.
More than hundreds in the population were begging for their lives; some bowed their heads in a shameless manner at enemies barefoot. But I could willingly say that the knight are being gallant against the enemies in a demeanour that can not be described
Our kingdom is something beyond fairytale more than imaginary. Even Though they were humans, they resembled and stood like gods. There is no heaven where our land has been worshipped by the angels since they rose.
In a way crowned by angels was the earliest king, Ruthenberg followed by many other dukes. It finally came into the hands of Albert Ruthenberg; he has a reputation to be a selfless king. Everyone from Ruthen believed in him with firm and faith for their lives but none of the beings had expected the meriable agony or each and every moment in their lives were blissful until the pearls of smiles shattered into ashes and laid in the ground as an unconcerned worry.
It's sensed like a bolt across a clear sky.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The only sound I hear is the clock ticking in my head. I didn't find who I needed to search but still the time is checking over my ears. vexation coils every inch of my blood as I move through the distance. The night is mysteriously dark without any warning and silence gathered all the way but not the peace. I could hear the rustle of shoes through the darkness; it could blind my eyes, not my ears. Still I can hear them from behind. Steady. calm. focus. in a second I raised my leg as I moved myself to keep the bastard who ever is demonic.
Smash.
As my boot hit his left Chin with a brutal punch he fell on the ground tasting the mud. My skills were never bad as I was gifted with 7 badges from Royale in a feisty Battleground.
not bad. If anyone underestimates me for being a femme, I wouldn't be sorry for kicking their ass.
Replacement: cutting d**k.
“Does the mud taste good?”, I asked while leaving a painful kick to his abdomen.
One. Next, Another.
When I realised a rough hand with a grip tugged my hair and brought it to its force which made me fall but I didn't.
Can't move.
Shit.
He Tightened his hold over my shoulder which was almost painful as hell.
Double s**t.
He caught me just like that easily? that shouldn't be like that. I was blur to notice another man with a leather outfit came in front of him without moving his gaze over the man who was scrambling on the ground, almost dying.
“Can you play too much? princess?”, he grinned which made me extremely despised. His finger slid over my chin and forced me to look at him.
Fuck off.
“You're beautiful, why are you wasting that like this, princess?”, he said and took his fingers back and walked towards his partner with lots of concern which made me vomit. I remember to have the whip hand in a situation that resembles exasperation. I remained still to wait for a situation to become clear or certain.
‘Wait for the dust to settle’, I told myself.
It will be a pretty good time if I make a move right now. I gave a quick view then, shook my boat to heave the blade from the right boat, my boot a little higher from the ground to make sure it had worked.
check.
I lifted my bladder boot with the force enough to move front higher and kicked that asshole's d**k with the blade with a backward thrust in a gallant force. His blood clotted over my blade as I took back when he collapsed himself to the ground. I'm sure it would have ripped him….
“Ahh…! Ouch!!....you slut”,he cursed as I did the process multiple times.
“I don't give a f**k about whatever you call me, asshole.”, I said exaperatedly.
I regained my sword from the ground which had accidentally fallen from my fist when he gripped my hair.
“ yes? I'm not a frail flower more than a merry thorn”, I said while playing with his flesh with my sword.
“ you're weak, see? How you are toppled?”
I turned and made my sword devour every drop of his blood. After a pause, I levelled my tousled hair and traversed from the forest to meet him.
Warsley Ruthenberg.
Warsley.
Where are you now?
- Writer
