Chapter 5
~Morgan Vales~
The lady looked straight into my eyes. Her gaze, filled with agony, pierced through me. She stumbled backward in shock as she crumpled, blood pooling around her from the wounds on her abdomen and mouth. A wave of emotions hit me—I didn't know her, yet she'd saved my life. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.
On my knees beside her, I cried out, "No! Please, no!" My attention swirled between her and the group of men standing nearby. They seemed indifferent to her suffering, callous in their intentions. Rage surged within me as I shouted at them, my voice trembling with pain.
But amidst my desperation to wake her, their menacing voices pierced through. "What! This bastard can speak!" one of them exclaimed, drawing attention to me. Ignoring their threats, I focused on trying to rouse the woman.
Suddenly, their intentions turned darker. "Come on, let us end this!" a voice rang out, followed by chilling agreement from the others. "Kill him! We must kill him! Come here!" They advanced toward me.
Driven by fear and adrenaline, I stood and pushed back, wielding a stick in my hand, screaming as I tried to keep them at bay. Their resolve wavered momentarily, but Josh, struck me from behind, sending me crashing to the ground.
Struggling to regain my bearings, I glimpsed their looming figures. Fear gripped me as Josh moved closer, aiming to strike again. But just as despair enveloped me, a commanding voice echoed, halting their menacing advance.
"Halt!" The voice, resonant and authoritative, made us all turn. The king, mounted on his majestic horse, led his warriors toward us. A sense of relief washed over me.
Josh, however, remained defiant. "Mind your own business, this is our matter, just go!" he barked at the king. But the king's warriors were unyielding. "Show him your respect! You speak to King Vales!" they commanded, drawing their swords.
The tables turned swiftly. Fear etched on their faces, Josh and his companions dropped their weapons. I watched, a mix of astonishment and relief flooding my senses.
"A group of men is trying to slaughter a child," the king stated, his voice cutting through the tension.
Josh's apprehension was palpable as King Vales approached, his words cutting through the tension. "The thieves rid our land, and monsters attack our people," the King stated solemnly. "Those with power only seek to fill their own stomachs."
With a glance downward, Josh seemed to carry the weight of guilt as the king probed further. "Why are commoners like you committing such vile acts? What is the reason!" The question hung heavily in the air, unanswered.
Then, a voice emerged from behind. "He has been cursed by Imoogi vampire," the Shaman proclaimed, her presence drawing everyone's attention. "It has come down to our village, harming our villagers in search of him."
Eyes widened as the Shaman continued, revealing a harrowing truth. "Even his own father abandoned him out of fear, but we took him in." I felt the weight of their gazes as I crawled towards the king, tears streaming down my face.
"This is our burden to carry; please turn a blind eye," the Shaman pleaded. The king, his gaze fixed on me, watched as I bowed before him, overwhelmed by emotions.
"Killing a boy because of some monster is nonsense to me, and I shall not believe it," the King asserted, his voice unwavering. His words struck a chord of fear within Josh and his men.
"However, I should beheaded all of you," the King continued, his tone shifting, "but I have seen too much blood on the battlefield today."
His gaze turned towards me once more, curiosity and compassion mingling in his eyes. "What is your name?"
Stammering, I replied, "I don't have a name." Fear and confusion trembled in my voice.
"Is that so?" he mused, before issuing a decree that echoed with significance. "Henceforth, your name shall be Morgan," he announced, his voice carrying weight.
"Morgan?" I echoed, tasting the name on my lips, as the king elucidated its meaning. "It signifies 'Reborn,'" he explained, imprinting the weight of the new identity upon my soul.
Standing tall, I noticed the discontent etched on Josh's and the Shaman's faces, along with others in their company. As I approached the King, he reached out and clasped my hands. It was a foreign sensation—someone firmly holding my hand, a gesture my own father had rejected. An overwhelming sense of joy enveloped me.
"I will take the boy with me," the King announced, guiding me onto his horse. His decisive action marked a turning point in my life, one filled with unexpected hope. The Shaman's glare dripped with fury, but the King's warriors swiftly aimed their swords at her.
"You will regret this," the Shaman warned the King, her voice trembling with conviction. "You will be ensnared in his bad karma. Anyone who stands by his side will suffer—vomiting blood and dirt in their eyes."
Fear gripped Josh and the others as the Shaman continued her ominous prophecy. "Not even you can evade the curse of the Imoogi vampire," she declared.
However, King Vales responded with a confident smile. "Let's go," he commanded his warriors. They forcibly pushed the Shaman aside, and the King urged his horse forward. As we departed, the Shaman's haunting words lingered in my mind—that the curse would persist until my death.
Glancing back, I saw the lifeless body of the woman who'd saved me lying on the ground. Her sacrifice weighed heavily on my heart as we rode away from the scene.
Eighteen years elapsed. Now a grown man, I found myself at the chamber door where King Vales sat, sipping water from a goblet.
Another figure occupied the space before him as I hesitated to enter.
The King grunted in discomfort, his hand paining him, preventing him from pouring more water. The man in front of him moved to assist, intending to pour the water into the goblet.
King Vales interrupted the man, taking hold of the goblet and insisting, "Leave it. I can manage." Pouring the water himself, he maintained his regal composure.
The man, evidently concerned, addressed the King. "You've spent your life hunting monsters and vampires for our kingdom, sacrificing even your own arm for our cause. It's time to shift focus to our kingdom and let the warriors handle it."
King Vales met the man's eyes, his resolve unwavering. "I can't detach myself from such a position. The mere thought of an office sends shivers down my spine."
A smile played on the man's lips. "Surely, you have soldiers you can rely on for this task."
The King's response was definitive. "There's only one person I trust with this responsibility—my adopted son." He spoke with a sense of pride and conviction.
The man nodded in understanding as King Vales continued, reflecting on his son's growth. "I've trained him since he was a boy. His military prowess and courage have already surpassed mine."
The man, intrigued, chimed in. "Rumors abound about him being cursed by the Imoogi Vampire, yet now he's seen as blessed by it."
The King confirmed the rumors with a sense of admiration. "He ended the most terrifying bloodsucker in our village. Monsters fear him as they fear the Imoogi vampire. My soldiers refer to him as the evil spirit who hunts monsters."
Speechless, the man absorbed the revelation. King Vales, resolute in his purpose, concluded, "I aim to put an end to these monsters, alongside my son."