L.K. Rune

Year 947 of the Valtherian Reign

“Lady Isis Erhart,” A thunderous voice boomed across the silent execution ground, “You have been found guilty of attempted regicide, conspiracy to murder, and high treason against the Valtheria Empire!” The herald announced, standing on a raised podium just below where the royal family was sitting. A young man with shining blond hair grasped the hand of a young lady with teary eyes sitting beside him, sniffing quietly. 

The execution grounds sprawled across the capital’s center square, the same place where festivals and ceremonies were conducted. A wooden platform was placed at the center, wooden oak now black from continuous use. The guillotine was mounted on top of it, and the criminal was forced to kneel just a few feet away from the steel blade. 

Stone walls separated the commoners from the noble viewing boxes that ringed the square in tiered semi-circles. The imperial box sat highest, draped in crimson and gold, the colors of the imperial crown. Below, the commoners pressed against the walls, and behind the knights, thousands of citizens here to witness the execution of the villainess of the empire. 

“Fueled by jealousy and revenge, you attempted to poison your former fiance and the Crown Prince Alden Valtherian and Lady Liora at the Imperial Banquet. For these crimes, you are sentenced to death by beheading.” The herald put away the proclamation and locked eyes with the woman kneeling on the ground, his scorn clearly visible. “To be carried out immediately.”

Just as he finished speaking, a roar swept through the audience, both nobles and commoners alike. A rhythm of stomping boots echoed through the square, the commoners expressing their feelings as coins clicked in the noble boxes, wagering how fast she would die.

“Behead the villainess!” 

“Make her pay for her crimes!”

“Down with the wicked woman!” 

On the platform where the guillotine was placed, a woman with pale white hair and crystal like blue eyes stirred. Her hair had lost its luminous shine, and her eyes had stopped sparkling like they used to. She said nothing in response to the scorn, just stared at the guillotine as if she was in a trance. A tomato hit her straight in the head, making her flinch as it dirtied her hair and tattered dress even more. 

“Do you have any last words?” The herald called out, addressing her. 

Isis tilted her head, some of the fog in her mind clearing. When she spoke, her voice was soft, wispy. “I curse you… I curse you, people of Valtheria…!” Her breath hitched as she tried to suppress a wince of pain, her wounds opening from having to have knelt for so long. “I’ve seen it all! I’ve seen your crimes and the secrets you’ve tried to hide.” Her eyes flitted to the direction of the crown prince as the wind around her picked up in a faint swirl. Alden narrowed his eyes at her gaze and pulled Liora closer to him. “May the divine spirits mete true justice!”

The crowd’s roar diminished slightly, confused from her cryptic words. Even the nobles leaned forward. A curse from the condemned— it was interesting enough to be entertaining. 

“Even until the end, only vile words fall from your mouth.” The herald scoffed. “You are a disgrace to the Duchy of Ehravia and to your father, Duke Rainard!”

The Duke in question only folded his arms and made no move to protect or defend his daughter. Isis met his eyes and saw no fatherly love, only disappointment. There really was no one on her side… 

The herald glanced at Empress Vivianna, sitting regally on her throne, requesting permission. She nodded and he turned toward the knights holding the criminal. “The crown has found the criminal guilty and she herself shows no signs of redemption. Let the execution begin!” 

And as Isis was dragged to the guillotine, as the crowd’s roar exploded once more with scornful curses  she didn’t say a single word. Nor did she let her expression falter. Her head was lowered, the cold steel of the blade at her neck making her shiver. But her mind was still wandering in the fog, thinking who it was for. Everything that she did, everything that she endured.  

If… if she had known sooner, would the result have been different? Would she have been able to protect herself? 

… no. 

The admission tore through the last of her will to live. She would never be able to save herself. She wasn’t strong enough. Not in body, not in mind, not in heart. And yet, a small spark of anger burned within her. Anger at the injustice of it all, at her own weak, pathetic self, at the people who did this to her, at the ones who rejoice at her death not even caring whether or not she was innocent. At the cruelty hidden in the shadows. 

When the final signal was given, and the blade came sliding down, only one thought remained in Isis’ mind with crystal-like clarity. 

Ah, I wish they would all just disappear—

And so the villainess who had terrorized the empire was put to rest. A festival was held to mark the victory of good over evil; The Suncrest Fair lasted seven days to mark a new beginning. 

— The Records of the Reign of Emperor Vareth and Empress Vivianna, Vol 47 of the Imperial Archives

Year 948 of the Valtherian Reign

The church of Luminous Faith claimed the commoner Liora, the mage contracted with the light spirit Aurion and crown prince Alden’s fiancee, as the Saintess blessed by Soleth, the Primordial Light. 

Liora was crowned in the biggest cathedral of the Luminous Church, with Aurion purifying the ailments of the people who had come to the church seeking healing in a single sweep.

“Before Soleth, the Eternal Radiance, whose light precedes all, we present Saintess Liora. She bears the mark of Celestia Reborn. The Light has chosen her. The Light dwells within her. Through her, Soleth touches this world. Let all who see her know they see the will of the Primordial Light made manifest.” 

— Speech given by Pontiff Matthias Vale, in front of the Imperial Court and the Council of Illumination

Year 951 of the Valtherian Reign

The Coronation Ceremony of Emperor Alden took place in spring, marking a new reign. Nobles from all corners of the Empire flocked to the Imperial palace to pay their respects to the new Emperor. 

“The Empire has seen many turbulent times, with the increase in monsters corrupted by miasma ravaging the northern borders, the threat of the heretics in the western province, and the schemes of the vile villainess, Isis Erhart in our own capital. And through it all, Valtheria has come out unscathed! 

I cannot express how my heart ached to see my own former fiancee at the guillotine. However she attempted to murder both me, the heir to the throne and the Saintess. Such sins cannot be forgiven. And for as long as I shall reign, criminals such as her will always face justice! 

Let us toast to a new era of Valtheria, to the prosperity of the Empire, and to the light of Soleth that guides us ever forward!” 

— An excerpt from the speech of Emperor Alden, recorded in the Imperial Archives, Vol 48

In the same year, the Crown and the Luminous Faith joined forces with the union of Emperor Alden and the Saintess Liora. Their marriage was an event grander than the coronation, with banquets held for an entire month before autumn came. 

In the following months, the Saintess purified the miasma surrounding the Wheatfield Plains in the east—which used to be the most fertile lands before the corruption by miasma—and earned the title ‘Lady of Light’. 

Year 953 of the Valtherian Reign

Five days before the Yule festival, Duke Rainard of the Duchy of Erhavia was found murdered in cold blood in his bed chambers with a sword pierced through his chest. 

The assassin was concluded to be a water spirit mage based on the marks in the room, but no other information was uncovered. Following the funeral, Nickaulas Erhart, the son of Duke Reinard and brother of Villainess Isis, ascended to the Dukedom. 

“The assassin still roams free, but he shall be caught soon enough. A tragedy has occurred in the Duchy on the eve of the Winter Festival. However, fear not, people of Erhavia, for the spirit of ice, Thrysal has not forsaken us yet. Enjoy Yule, and welcome the winter months with smiling faces.”

— Duke Nickaulas’ promise to his people, recorded by Master Anwin, Keeper of The Erhart Library, in the Erhart Annals, Vol 142

Year 954 of the Valtherian Reign, Year 1 of the Insurgence

A civil war erupted in the Valtheria Empire, shattering the peace that had reigned since Emperor Alden’s coronation. The causes were manifold: 

The northern territories, long burdened by increased monster attacks and lacking imperial support, declared their grievances against the crown. The western provinces, where accusations of heresy had led to brutal inquisitor purges, rose in rebellion against both the crown and the church. Entire villages had been burned on suspicion of harboring Void Cultists, creating deep resentment among the populace. The southern merchants, strangled by the new tariffs imposed to fund the Saintess’ grand cathedral projects, formed coalitions refusing to supply the capital. 

But the spark that truly ignited the powder keg came from an unexpected source. 

On the first day of autumn, a man appeared before the gates of the imperial palace, bearing the golden hair and red eyes inherent only to the imperial bloodline. 

Damian Valtherian, illegitimate son of former Emperor Vareth, born to a dancer the late Emperor had favored in his youth, declared himself the rightful heir to the throne. His claim was not based on the legitimacy of birth, but on divine right— for he claimed to be the true contractor of the Imperial Fire Spirit, Ifrit. 

“I am the true contractor chosen by Ifrit!” Damian proclaimed before the assembled court, the massive fire spirit coiling around him like a dragon of living flame. “According to the Old Laws, only Ifrit’s contractor may take the throne! The spirit of the ancestors has rejected Emperor Alden and chosen me!” 

Damian’s next words shook the very foundations of the empire: 

“The Emperor’s contract with Ifrit is false! The spirit he has contracted is not the Prime Spirit, but a lesser. The crown could not accept that their heir was rejected by the ancestral spirit so they named a lesser spirit Ifrit to maintain the illusion of legitimacy!” 

The nobles gasped. The Saintess Liora went pale. Empress Dowagar’s face remained stone but her hands gripped her armrests with white-knuckled fury. Emperor Alden called for Damian’s arrest, declaring him a traitor and a conspiracy theorist. But Ifrit’s presence could not be denied. The ancient spirit had never appeared to anyone outside the direct imperial line in three hundred years. Its choice of Damian— bastard or not— carried undeniable weight. 

This discord over the throne was all it took for the power-hungry nobles to choose sides and form factions around the Emperor and the Bastard Prince. Within weeks, the nobles declared their intentions and readied their armies. The Civil War had begun. 

—The Unravelling: A Chronicle of the Valtherian Civil War, by Scholar Petras Moonridge

Year 955 VR, Year 2 of the Insurgence

The Civil War intensified as the Luminous Faith declared its position. Pontiff Matthias Vale, in an emergency gathering of the Council of Illumination, proclaimed: 

“The Church of Radiant Ascension stands with Emperor Alden and Saintess Liora! The bastard Damian, regardless of his spirit contract, cannot supersede the holy union blessed by Soleth herself. The Saintess has been coronated, her divine purpose recognized. To support Damian is to reject the will of the Primordial Light!” 

Inquisitor-General Jorlan Pyre personally led purges against nobles suspected of Damian sympathisers, declaring them heretics and Void Cultists. Entire families were executed, their lands seized, to fund the war effort. The Order of the Radiant Shield— ten thousand holy knights strong— mobilized to defend the capital.

With this declaration, the tide turned in Emperor Alden’s favor. The Church’s intervention brought resources and legitimacy. Damian’s forces, while passionate, were scattered and under-supplied. 

Just as Damian was about to lose, Duke Nickaulas Erhart arrived at his encampment with twelve thousand soldiers, three hundred spirit mages, and supply trains that seemed to stretch to miles. The Duchy of Erhavia, one of the Empire’s wealthiest and most strategically positioned territories, had thrown its full support behind the bastard prince. 

“I stand with the true contractor of Ifrit!” Duke Nickaulas had declared before both armies. “The Crown has told lies and has defiled the sacred contracts with the Prime Spirits themselves. Such blasphemy against the ancient protectors of our empire shall not be tolerated!”

— The Turning Tide, Duke Nickaulas Erhart’s role in the Succession War, by Military Historian, Commander Aldric Stone

Year 961 After Valtherian Regency

The war, as if haunted by a curse, tore the empire apart, devastating both nobles and commoners alike. Famine followed in its wake, for harvests failed as young and able-bodied men were forced into conscription and supply lines collapsed under constant raids. Entire towns were abandoned as monsters corrupted by miasma overwhelmed the scant soldiers who had remained to protect the citizens, their people fleeing to the capital for protection or Damian’s scattered strongholds in hopes of safety. 

Trade collapsed. Border Lords sealed their gates. Bandits, deserters, and rogue spirit mages carved territories of their own across the countryside. The commoners cried out as they became the primary victims of the injustice of war. 

As hope grew more bleak with each passing cycle, the war began showing signs of conclusion. 

On the 17th day of Midwinter, seven years after the insurgence began, Damian’s forces led by Duke Nickaulas’s relentless icy assaults breached the capital’s walls. The battle for the Crown lasted three days. The Radiant Shield made their last stand at the palace steps, but the Prime Spirits of Fire and Ice— Ifrit and Thrysal— were powerful enough to shatter even the Saintess’ light barrier. 

Emperor Alden and Empress Liora were captured in the throne room, attempting to escape through secret passages. As fate befalls any rulers weak enough to be unable to stop a rebellion, they were both sentenced to death. 

Emperor Alden was beheaded by traditional axe. His last words were: “History will remember me as the legitimate Emperor, not him.” 

Saintess-Empress Liora, weeping and proclaiming her innocence until the very end, met with the same fate. Her light spirit, Aurion, manifested briefly, then dissipated with her death. The Church’s claims of her divine status died with her. 

Former Emperor Vareth, who had lived in quiet retirement since his abdication, was also executed. And Empress-Dowager Vivianna, as the primary architect of the scheme, was imprisoned in the Tower of Silence, a fortress tower in the northern wastes, known for its harsh winters. 

The Church of Luminous Faith’s power was shattered. Its lands were seized, military orders disbanded, and it was forbidden from holding temporal authority ever again. 

In the throne room, before the assembled lords and the commonfolk, Damian Valtherian was crowned Emperor. His first proclamation was: 

“Let it be known that the Valtherian Empire, stained by the crimes of my predecessors, ends today. In its place, I establish the Ignatian Empire—named for the flames that burned away corruption and illuminated the truth. We will build a nation where the Old Laws will be followed and every victim of the old regime will be remembered.” 

His second proclamation: 

“I declare the Dukedom of Erhart an independent state from this moment onwards as recompense for their efforts in restoring the true line of succession and bringing an end to the tyranny of the false crown.”

— The Fall of Valtheria and Rise of Ignatia: A Complete Historical Account, by Royal Historian Seraphine Blackwood, published in Year 1 of the Ignatian Reign 

THE END 

“Ehhhhhh?!!!” Ellie Brooks flipped the pages of the novel frantically, searching for more pages. “That’s it?! Wha— OH COME ON THIS IS SUCH A STUPID NOVEL–!” 

Sitting on the chair beside her, Vanessa pulled out her earphones. “Really? Weren’t you the one gushing about how much you loved it an hour ago?” 

She said it as sarcastically as she could, already anticipating the headache she was going to get because having known her roommate for three years, she could say with absolute certainty that Ellie simply couldn’t understand the concept of sarcasm and was going to go on her infamous hour-long rants about pieces of media that displeased her. 

They were both in their final year of law college and have been dorm mates for three, and as endearing as Ellie was, she could also get a bit too enthusiastic at times. 

Vanessa started counting in her head: 1, 2, 3—

Ellie jumped up from the bed and shoved the last page of the book in Vanessa’s face. “That’s because it was good an hour ago! The Male Lead, Alden the Crown Prince and the Female Lead, Liora, a commoner, falling for each other despite the social gap and staying together even as the Villainess Isis got jealous of the pure female lead and schemed several times to separate them. This was supposed to be a story of true love!” she screeched, smacking Vanessa lightly with the book in the face as she tried to push it further.

“But instead of the happy ending we were supposed to get, we get one where everybody except for the main villain dies!” Ellie’s eyes were burning with rage as she screamed, pointing at the page with ‘The End’ written on it. “Have you ever seen it happen somewhere before?! Where the villain kills both the female lead he was obsessed over and the male lead? I mean, when Nickaulas framed Isis, I did get a little suspicious but HE was the one supposed to be defeated at the end! Not the Lead Couple! And who even is this Damian? Where did he even come from?! We didn’t even get a warning! It was as if the author—” 

She froze mid-rant, her eyes widening. 

Vanessa blinked slowly, “As if the author what, Ellie? Forgot their meds? Lost their notes? Got divorced and decided love was stupid?” 

Ellie stared at the page as if it had personally betrayed her, “No. Worse.” 

“Worse?” 

Ellie held up the book as if presenting evidence in court, “As if the author just… got bored halfway through the plot and thought, ‘yeah, time to kill everyone.’”

Vanessa snorted, “Honestly? Mood.” 

Ellie collapsed face-first on the bed with a dramatic groan, “I SWEAR. IF ISIS SOMEHOW COMES BACK TO LIFE IN THE NEXT BOOK FOR A REDEMPTION ARC, I’M GOING TO BURN THIS SERIES.” 

Vanessa patted her back sympathetically, “You say that every time you binge a bad romance fantasy.” 

“THIS TIME IT’S PERSONAL!” Ellie kicked her legs in despair, “THEY KILLED THE PRINCE, NESSA. THEY KILLED THE PRINCE!” 

Vanessa crossed her arms, already familiar with her best friend’s antics. “Yeah yeah, a national tragedy.” She said, rolling her eyes. “Hold your memorial service later. Right now? We’re getting snacks before you set the dorm room on fire.” She grabbed Ellie’s wrist and yanked her upright. 

Ellie blinked at her. “I’m emotionally compromised.” 

“You’re emotionally insufferable,” Vanessa corrected, shoving her toward the door. “Come on. Sugar cures grief. Also, if you stay here any longer, you’ll start writing hate comments to the author, and I’d like to keep you jail free.” 

“I deserve justice—” 

“You deserve ice-cream.” Vanessa said flatly, ignoring Ellie’s betrayed face and locking the door behind her.

Ellie trailed miserably behind her down the stairs. “I just… I wanted a happy ending. Why can’t authors just let fictional characters be happy?! Is that too much to ask?” 

Vanessa didn’t stop walking. “Yes. Happiness is for weaklings and people with happy childhoods. Now move, trauma gremlin.” 

Ellie gasped, “you didn’t!” 

“I very much did,” Vanessa’s grin was triumphant and teasing as she led the way down the road and to the convenience store. Halfway through, she sighed and stopped in the middle of the road. “And can you please stop waddling like a duck?!” she flipped on her heels and pointed at the woman walking weirdly six feet behind her accusingly. 

Ellie’s eyes widened in mock offence, “Waddling like a— I’M GRIEVING!” 

“WHAT DOES GRIEVING HAVE TO DO WITH WALKING PROPERLY?!” 

Ellie huffed, stomping over onto the sidewalk. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” 

“You’re lucky I haven’t pushed your annoying ass in traffic yet.” Vanessa replied lovingly. 

They started crossing the street toward the convenience store. Ellie sniffed dramatically, “you know… maybe you’re right. Maybe snacks will help. I’m thinking a triple ice cream cone of black forest, bubble gum and blue cheese scoopes—” 

Vanessa shuddered as Ellie started listing the worst possible, absolutely revolting ice-cream combinations she could think of with a smile on her face. 

Just then, a flash of light burst in her eyes and Vanessa instinctively shielded her face with one hand and narrowed her eyes in the direction where the light came from. “What the hell—?” 

Ellie’s head snapped up just in time to see the massive delivery truck barreling toward them from across the street, engine roaring at full throttle. 

“OH COME ON—!!” Ellie screamed. 

Vanessa grabbed her arm on instinct and yanked her close, twisting her body so it would be the first to collide with the truck and not Ellie. The truck’s horn blared, and there was no time to run, only the feeling of a crushing impact. Ellie grabbed back, trying to pull Vanessa toward the sidewalk, but their momentum was wrong, the truck was too fast—

The worst thing that can happen to a girl out to buy ice-cream is being slammed by a ten-ton truck while trying to shield your best friend from certain death… At least, that’s what Vanessa had thought before she opened her eyes in a bed that was softer than anything physics should allow, in a medieval fantasy world that looked suspiciously like the garbage romance novel Ellie had been screaming about the night before and wait for it— being transmigrated as the villainous sister of the Last Boss Villain who frames and kills her, and then goes on to commit homicide… Really, a most fantastic afterlife, if it even existed. 

That is until she finds the Female Lead of the story crouched behind a tree, muttering something suspiciously like, “No no no NO— this is NOT happening, I refuse to be Isekai Trope Number Five! Truck-kun? Seriously?! Why couldn’t I get reincarnated as a dragon? Or a magical talking sword? Or literally ANYTHING that doesn’t get executed by that crazy villain–?!” 

She was clawing at the grass like she expected a menu screen to pop up and offer a logout button. Vanessa just stared. Because her best friend, the girl who tripped over a stationary bicycle, had now been reborn as the Saintess of the empire, who ALSO gets killed by her psychotic brother. 

Great. Just perfect. If this was karma for the stunt she pulled with the lady at Walmart, then Karma was a more petty bitch than she had thought possible. This was all that trashy novel’s fault! 

Hey guys!