The elite of the elite, the cream of the crop from the Kingdom of Euglaria, were all gathered in the same room. Well, at least they were, before they were brutally slaughtered.
The strongest amongst them, Swordmaster Joseph, barely supported himself with his sword, kneeling on one knee.
“Ha… Ha… Haaa.”
Joseph panted as he took various potions, wiping the blue liquid off his lips. He glared at the figure standing at the top of the marble staircase, the lightning strike illuminated her figure.
The throne room was strewn with bodies, their blood dyeing the white carpet a deep crimson. The intricately carved stone pillars were badly damaged, barely supporting the weight of the ceiling, sending dust and debris raining down on his battered form.
“Why?! Why did you do this?” he shouted. “We-”
Thunder rumbled once again, cutting him off mid-sentence.
A woman wearing a black, one-piece dress stepped down from beside the throne, her heels clacking down the staircase.
Tart, a beautiful blonde half-elf, the ruler of the Eastern Kingdom. Yup, that’s the actual name. It''s basically just a collection of heteromorphic rejects around the continent. Drows, tieflings, dokkaebi, kobolds, literal skeletons and ghosts, you get the idea.
She leaned into his face, her pale, delicate fingers lifting up his chin. “You don’t think you could get away scot-free trespassing, did you?”
Oh yeah, and another thing—brazen adventurers from the Kingdom of Euglaria constantly break into our home, demanding a challenge. Of course, it never ends well. You wouldn’t be able to unite and protect races from all across the continent if you were weak.
The room rumbled as she summoned her weapon, a magnificent pitch-black greatsword. She swung it effortlessly, despite her slender body.
She pointed her blade at him—the last one standing. The other “heroes” had already been slain, leaving him alone.
“Do you have any idea how expensive it is to replace the windows?!” she shouted, pointing at the shattered glass and broken doors.
“You know that you could just open doors like a normal person but noooo, you got to kick down every door and window you see! They aren’t cheap, you know?!”
Creak.
“Are you done yet? Ah, it seemed like I was too early. Should I leave?” I asked, pointing towards the massive double doors.
His cheek twitched. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Oops. Well, whatever. I’m just here as backup anyways. Once in a while, some influential person turns up to try and test their luck, and Tart wanted to make sure that it won’t be an international issue.
“Come on! I was just about to give my monologue, and please stop eating while I’m performing, make an effort to not get blood all over your face, it''s unbecoming of you.”
“Sorry!” I mumbled, dabbing at my mouth with a handkerchief. “Just pretend I’m not here, you got this!!”
Her greatsword sliced across his stomach, bisecting him horizontally. His scream was cut short as his blood sprayed into the air, his upper half dropping to the floor with a thud.
Trails of crimson blood began slithering towards my palm from the corpses, condensing into glossy, red orbs.
“This should hold me over for a few weeks at least.”
She grimaced a little when I swallowed one of those orbs. “You know the drill. Send one back, turn the rest into housekeepers.”
“Alright. Help me move the bodies, you should be more careful with them next time…”
Tart sheepishly glanced at the body slowly sliding down one of the intricately carved pillars. “I hope the stains will come out of the carpet easily…”
“Also, please stop decapitating or bisecting them. You know how expensive resurrection magic is. We’ve also received several complaints this night alone due to the thunderbolts you use for dramatic effect.”
“Aw, you’re no fun,” she pouted, tossing me a mana recovery potion. “Somebody come clean this mess up!” she shouted over her shoulder.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Several of them were still in quite good condition, so they were quickly revived and turned into ghouls. Well, they should’ve thought about the consequences before breaking and entering.
“Good morning! You know how if you can’t pay for a meal, you wash dishes? This is sort of like the same thing, except you get to work at the castle.”
“What hu- you aren’t the boss of me!”
“It’s. An. Order. Go to the castle, clean up your mess, you brats.”
“…?”
Their legs began moving on their own, despite themselves.
“The maid uniforms are in a closet down the hall to the right, you can’t miss it.”
It’s already terribly hard to find full-time housekeepers. They keep holding these reckless fights indoors, and at this point, every employee in a hundred meter radius of us are qualified for danger pay. Well, at least they’ll make themselves useful.
I sighed, turning my attention to the last body—Joseph. The blood had already begun pooling around his body, dyeing his clothes into a sickly red color. Swordmaster my ass, it wasn’t even close. Tart got bored at some point and turned these near biweekly fights into acting lessons.
I picked up the staff of a fallen mage nearby, channeling my mana. I shielded my eyes, as the room was momentarily engulfed in a brilliant flash of light.
His fingers twitched as the blood began slithering back into his body, his various wounds knitting together like time was reversing. Shortly after, he jolted awake, as if he just awoke from a bad nightmare.
His hands trembled as they moved over his body. “Wh- where am I?! I’m… Alive…?”
“Good morning sunshine! Please leave through the door on the left. Loiterers and trespassers aren’t welcomed here.”
Joseph scanned the room in disbelief. “Bu- but where are my companions? What have you done with them??”
I stared at him with a deadpan expression. “They found new employment opportunities in the afterlife. Get going, you are a long way from home.”
“You…” His fingers subconsciously twitched at his waist. “I need answers… Where are they, and who are you?! I’ll beat the answers out of you if I mu-”
‘Who does he think he is? Making demands as if it’s his own house…’
“Is… That a threat?”
Her greatsword embedded itself deeply into the wall, causing a crack to snake up towards the ceiling. I wouldn’t be surprised if the ceiling collapsed due to the carnage of the battle. Well, it was less a battle and more a massacre. Just a couple more inches and he would’ve lost his head.
“There won’t be a next time,” Tart said icily. “Now scram.”
“Nailed it!” I mouthed with a thumbs up. “Please hold your fights outdoors next time!”
I guess the cool factor sort of balanced out the destruction? If this is where my money is going towards, I’ll totally commit magical tax evasion too.
Tart facepalmed in exasperation as he scrambled to his feet, leaping through and destroying yet another window. We must’ve been keeping all the local glaziers in business.
“Hope?” she called out, pulling the blade out of the wall with a grunt. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about something.”
“Yeah yeah I remembered to wash out the bloodstains,” I said, rolling my eyes. “And closed the curtains, yeah yeah yeah….”
“I meant that your birthday is coming up soon, are you sure you don’t want anything?”
Tart sighed deeply. “Normally, there is a whole celebration, a coming of age festival. It’s supposed to be a big deal, but to you it’s just another day.”
I shrugged, turning yet another page. “I’m fine with anything, I’m content just spending my time with you, is all.”
Honestly, it’s not a big deal to me. I know some people who had massive celebrations for their sweet sixteen, but I’m not really into that stuff (read : hikikomori).
“Awww, you’re so cheeky! It’s just… I’m worried about you, stuck in the castle all day. Kids your age should be attending school, making friends, going out, exploring the world! Remember the academy I told you about? I think-”
“Yeah I’m going to have to stop you right there. It’s a no. No thanks.”
“You know you don’t have a say in this, it''s a requirement for all nobility to attend the academy as soon as they become adults.”
Her voice trailed off, staring off into the distance. “You know, I won’t be around forever,” Tart said, her voice growing serious. “I want you to see the world beyond these walls.”
“Fine, I’ll attend,” I groaned. “But just for you.”
Tart pulled me into a tight embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered.
I took a deep breath, burying my face into her chest. She smelled of a mix of blood, sweat, and something earthy that I couldn’t quite place my finger on.
“Sebastian!” she called out, clapping her hands. “If anybody shows up to challenge me, tell them that it could wait until tomorrow! If they try anything, send them back in a shoe box.”
“As you wish, your majesty,” he said with a polite bow. “When should I expect your return? I shall have breakfast prepared at your convenience.”
Sebastian was my mentor. He taught me magic, while Tart taught me swordsmanship. Aside from that, he was just a great butler in general—smartly dressed in a suit with graying, slicked back hair and a bushy mustache. He was always nearby, supposedly having served this house for hundreds of years.
“Forget about breakfast, I’ve lost my appetite,” she said, taking my hand. “Well, let’s get out of here. I won’t get any sleep anyways with all the noise.” Tart tapped her chin thoughtfully and pursed her lips. “I suppose I should put out a notice banning challenges after dark and limiting them to once or twice a month…”
The Silverus Academy is a prestigious academy located at the center of the continent, attracting the children of nobility from all over the continent. I’ve heard many stories about their alumni going on to be successful rulers or warriors in their own respective territories, which earned them critical acclaim.
Well, let’s just get this over with…
The Headmaster sat across from us, still wearing his nightcap and striped blue and white pajamas, like he’s straight out of a hallmark movie. He appeared to be visibly agitated and bleary-eyed.
“I thought I asked you to change out of your clothes,” Tart hissed. “You’re so irresponsible, you will catch a cold!”
“Whatever….”
At this point, the white, loose-fitting pajamas are my signature. I can’t complain, really. I totally empathize with the headmaster.
“Your majesty, what brings you here this early in the morning?” he asked, rubbing his eyes. “Could it be that another one of the students had so foolishly challenged you late into the night? If so, I deeply apologize for the disturbance.”
She shook her head and nudged me. “I would like my daughter, Hope Sinclair, to be enrolled into your academy. She is of nobility, so it shouldn’t be much of an issue, no?”
Headmaster Grey paused for a moment before turning sift through a small pile of documents. “Of course. A couple of weeks had passed since the start of the semester, but I think I could make some arrangements. However, both guardian and child must sign this release form.”
We turned to each other with a look of confusion.
He sighed. “It’s just as a precaution. Many noble families expect preferential treatment. Getting injured during training is a part of life. We’re just making sure that we won’t receive any lawsuits, that’s all. Take your time.”
Tart produced a pair of reading glasses out of thin air, squinting at the contract before signing. “Alright, I consent.”
I hastily scribbled my name on the contract, and the contract lit up with a faint, blue glow.
“Congratulations, welcome to the Silverus Academy,” he yawned. “Let me show you to the girl’s dormitory.”
I reflexively pulled my hand back with a yelp as small burn marks sizzled on my fingers.
He raised an eyebrow. “My apologies, my rings are silver. I haven''t met a vampire in quite a while, and we’ll try our best to accommodate you.”
I apologized with a slight bow.
‘I’m the peanut allergy kid, aren’t I?’