Many centuries ago, even before the Empire existed, The Azarolla family and the House of Wolves were already established. The Azarollas have long defended the North, from the earlier days of the four hundred year continental demonic war up until its conclusion sixty years ago. 

The Azarolla family stood its ground and expanded its territory and influence with their bravery and camaraderie as they fought tirelessly and bravely against the Demonic Army. 

Even to this day, as the remnants of the broken Demon Clan have scattered into the winds and their presence being nothing more than a legend to the children, The Wolves of Azarolla still bare their fangs ready to pounce.

All this strength and power can be traced back to the first Duchess of Azarolla who bore the Child of Ponoz and entered the Spirit God’s blood into their family.

This latent ability, once awakened through training, allows the user to release extraordinary amounts of spirit energy, much more than your average Spirit Knight.

 

With this ability, the Children of the Wolf became extremely powerful in battle. The blood they spilled can fill an ocean, and the Demons they hunted were enough to fill a cemetery three times over.

Unfortunately, this astounding ability came with an expensive price. Any Child of the Wolf who kept using this ability would do so at the cost of one's own life.

The more they relied on its power, the more it killed them from the inside. Slowly stripping away their life force, piece by piece, until they keel over and rot in battle.

That is why most Heads of the Azarolla Family do not live past the age of 30.

They die before they could even watch their children grow. 

Thus whether this bloodline is a curse disguised as a blessing is bound for speculation and to one's own interpretation. From one Azarolla to the next, this cycle of power and death continues and it will do so endlessly until the bloodline meets its end.

However, not all Azarollan Children awaken this Blessing.

In fact, there have been many times now that an Azarolla child did not awaken this latent ability. Over time as the bloodline spread downwards, the original blood of Ponoz, The Spirit God, slowly diluted, to the point where a child born with a powerful Spirit is considered rare and not only that, awakening this ability requires extensive effort and will.

But that did not stop the following generations of Azarolla from training their youths to be honorable and powerful Knights, whether or not they could use the Blessing of Ponoz.

This blessing, with the cost of its user’s life, allowed the Children of the Wolves to consistently name themselves the strongest. 

For wolves are merciless, honorable, and most importantly powerful.

As long the blood of Azarolla flows within their veins, this power will be latent within them.

Waiting only to be awakened.

…

Roselia explained the curse to Joseph, who listened with ever growing concern and worry.

“Ack!” In her arms, Millo coughed blood, whilst. remaining unconscious.

“Millo!” Roselia shook her brother in her arms. His face was pale, and his eyes were rolled over as the color slowly drained from his skin. “Millo! Wake up!” Tears began to well up in Roselia’s eyes as Millo’s breathing slowed down to a concerning frequency.

“Dear!” Joseph held his wife’s hand to calm her down. “Breathe. He’s going to be okay…he just…passed out.”

Roselia looked at him before glancing back down as Millo’s face was slowly regaining the energy it used to have. “Thank the Goddess.” She held her brother's hand tightly. “This is why I didn't want you to be a Knight. I didn't want any of you, my dearest siblings, to follow Amelia or mine paths.”

“Honey…”

“This blessing the call it…” Roselia stared in anger towards Joseph, angry not at her husband but at her own family. “They treat it like a gift from Ponoz but all it is is a goddamn curse!”

Joseph reached over and wiped the tears that flowed down Roselia’s eyes. “Rosie…”

“As long as Azarolla blood flows within us, we're bound by this curse!” Roselia let her hands rush over to Joseph’s face. “I don't want Alejandra to lose her mother the way I lost my Father. That is why I abandoned my family…That is why I became an Adjudicator.”

Joseph embraced his wife as she struggled to contain her anger, hate, and sorrow. He caressed her back and wiped every flow of water down her cheek. He stared longingly to the side as her words echoed in his chest.

“As long as Azarolla blood flows…” Joseph restated the words that Roselia spoke. Her fists clenched in worry as he picked up Millo’s body and put it in his back. “Let's head back, Rosie. Let's get him somewhere safe.”

“W-wait!” Roselia reached up to him.

“Rosie?”

“Alejandra! Where's Alejandra!?” Her panicked voice was desperate now. Seeing her brother in this state, caused her persona and confidence to crumble into pieces.

“Relax…” Joseph reassured her. “Don't worry. She's safe.” Joseph lied. He wasn't sure, he couldn't be. With how this ambush from the Kingdom went, he could only hope that Alejandra didn't get herself hurt. 

But he had to calm Roselia down.

“Let's go.” He spoke softly to his wife as she helped her up. “Let's get somewhere safe.”

As the battle within the ball finally reached its conclusion so too was the main hallway’s battle nearing its end.

“ARRGHH!” A Kingdom soldier choked as Duke Bay gripped his throat and an ominous white aura covering the Duke’s hand.

“I don't even use much of my Spirit and you already choke.” The Duke sighs. “Unfortunate.” He then lays down the body of the soldier on the ground and faces the remaining ones left alive.

The eyes of these soldiers were dead, empty, and soulless. The Duke had a grim feeling as to what happened to them but there was no way to help them at the moment. 

He could only be kind enough to lay their bodies to rest right now.

A Soldier charged forward while two others rushed to flank the Duke’s side, he could also sense an ambush of another behind his back. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle, however. You don't live to see your fifties in this job without picking up a thing or two.

He fixed his stance on the ground, took a step forward and grabbed the soldier’s sword in front of him, and crushed it with his bare hands. He then grabbed the soldier’s arm and used it as leverage to pull himself forward while also making use of the body of the soldier as a blow to his allies.

The soldier's body crashed into his comrades and sent them tumbling to the ground. In one swift motion, he drew his blade and cut the four remaining Kingdom soldiers in front of him. His cut was so powerful and fast, it created a shockwave that broke through the bodies of the soldiers and sliced down on the marble floor.

“Now that that's over with… You can come out now.” He called over to the air as if he were talking to someone when he was currently and visibly alone.

But a shimmer in the surroundings like a mirror reflecting into itself shined at one of the corners by the walls proved the Duke’s hunch to be right.

“Can't hide from the strongest I see.” A blonde haired woman with beautiful brown eyes and a smirk plastered on her face stepped out from behind a pillar. “Even invisibility magic doesn't seem to work.”

“And you are?”

“Jamie Mitchell Anderson. You should know me by now, Your Grace.” Jamie had a mischievous smile. 

“Indeed, I do know your name but I do not recognize your face, Young Lady.” The Duke crossed his arms as he addressed the woman in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been watching over my benefactor, Your Grace.” She shrugged. “He always seems to be involved in such perilous engagements.”

“Hmph.” The Duke huffed. “And why are you here now?”

“I am to inform you that His Highness is in quite the trouble.” Jamie raised her shoulders and hands. “I don't particularly have any interest in seeing the one who's giving me so much money die so I came to you as soon as I could. You see, I am but a weak common girl, Your Grace.” She sassed and her face clearly mused with every word she spoke.

“Don’t jest me. I know a human when I see one and you…you have mana in your blood.” The Duke glared. “What are you really?”

“Hahahaha!” Jamie laughed. “Even His Highness couldn't tell, but I am so intrigued by the fact that you could, Your Grace.” Suddenly a flicker in the wind occurred, as if mist was shimmering like glass. The blonde haired woman’s face had changed. Well, not exactly her face but her ears have now appeared to be longer than what they used to be.

“An Elf?”

“Indeed.” Jamie smiled. “Specializing in Wind Magic, in fact.”

“That explains the disguise and invisibility, I assume you're at least a middle-class mage.” The Duke pointed out. “Now what is an Elf like you doing here in this part of the Empire?”

“Would the feeling of being trapped in my hometown and wanting to see the outside world count as a decent enough excuse, Your Graciousness?” She swayed her head around as she talked, in a sort of teasing manner.

“Is that true?”

She broke in a flurry of cackling. “Of course not!” She cracked her knuckles and stretched her neck. “Elves are long lived, after all, I just wanted to see something fun and not boring for once.”

“That's—”

“A dumb excuse?” She raised an eyebrow. “Well eat crap old man, that's the truth… no matter how mundane it is.”

“Old man?”

“Technically I am older than you but you look worse for wear.” She mocked out loud. “Oh yeah I forgot… I’m supposed to say, Your Grace. I have to do that or else Daniel will scold me again.”

“You are one curt lady, Madam.” The Duke smiled.

“As others have said as well.” She smiled back.

“Anyways, in terms of your request, I shall quickly–” The Duke stopped halfway through his words as he heard footsteps stomping on the other far side of the hallway.

“HELP! PLEASE ANYONE!” A voice called out in dire panic.

“Well then, it seems you won't be able to make it to his side.” Jamie sighed as Duke Bay turned to look towards the direction the yelling was coming from.

“Unfortunately so.” He shook his head. “I will head there right aft—” His words ended abruptly again as when he turned back to face Jamie she had already vanished into thin air with no sign of her ever even being there.

“It seems I have been abandoned.” The Old Duke spoke to himself and lightly jogged over towards the distressed calls.

Meanwhile, a few moments ago before the Duke had met Jamie, the Battle in the First Garden was about to reach its final crescendo.

Crack!

“Blagh!” The Tall man spat blood as a stone fist connected with his chest, but he retaliated by stabbing the arm with his daggers.

Krish!

“Damn it!” Asher’s rock armor plate in his arm crumbled. 

The Tall Man used the gap between them to leap out of Asher’s range. He landed barely on his two feet as he gripped his chest, the clothes he wore now torn and his skin turning purple from the internal damage. 

“You really did a number on me.” He laughed towards the Knight. He then drew his daggers and crossed his arms into an X position.

“Sir!” The Thief called from the side and threw a sword towards Asher. “I grabbed it from where you dropped it earlier.”

“Haha…” The Tall man chuckled. “Finally those hands did something useful, young thief. Now…shall we have our final dance together?”

Asher felt the hilt of his sword in his hands. Its familiar handle, the blade reflecting, his armored face. Suddenly, for a split second, he saw His Lady’s face appear in the shine of his sword.

He closed his eyes and remembered all of their spars and training together. All their battles and all their sweat that poured and watered the dirt. 

All his defeats.

All his victories.

He remembered her face. He remembered her voice, all the way when they first met.

“Be my Knight, Asher Lewis, prove your worth while being by my side.” Her confident words resonated in his soul. “You can be stoic, joyful, cruel, or kind. I do not care. As long as you wish to fulfill your dreams, stay by my side. Be my strength.”

Asher smiled and a calm enveloped him. “Yes, M’Lady, always.” He twisted the handle on his hand and took the stance he always had. “On your step.” He stared down the Tall Man.

“Gladly.”

In a leap of soniclike speed, the Tall Man practically teleported right in front of Asher's face and slashed his two blades toward his neck.

Asher back stepped and dodged the scissor attack. He then raised his blade upwards to produce a vertical cut from down up. The Tall Man avoided it barely by using the air as platforms to leap backward.

The Tall Man rolled on the dirt and back to his feet as Asher took a stance, this time it wasn't his. 

It was Lady Alejandra's.

The Tall man rushed forward and Asher felt his body move according to its own will. He sidestepped and gracefully swung his sword towards the man, their blades met and a spark lit up between the edges of the sword and the dagger. 

Alejandra's stance was graceful and poise and made use of the Lady’s light feet in defeating her enemies with pure skill.

Asher then let his arm loose and made the Tall Man lose balance by suddenly giving him the advantage over the clash. The Tall Man pushed forward a bit and lost footing and that small opening was something that Alejandra would take advantage of immediately. 

So that's what Asher would do.

Asher ducked down and kicked the Tall Man’s ankle with his stone plated feet and severely scratched the man's foot.

“Gragh!” The Tall Man reacted hastily and leaped forward and threw a dagger towards the knight’s direction to which Asher raised his arm to block the blade

Unfortunately, he forgot he had lost the armor on the arm he lifted up and accidentally took the dagger stab right through his arm. He winced as he watched the sharp blade pierce out his skin.

“Arrghh!” He screamed in pain but he nevertheless pulled the dagger out and threw it to the side somewhere in the dirt without ever so much as batting an eye.

The Tall Man didn't speak any more provocation nor any insults, he simply ran forward and drew the single dagger he had left as he prepared for a final hail mary. This wasn't just a battle anymore.

This was two dying men on their last stands.

Asher dropped his foot on the ground and thought the best way to defeat a charging enemy. 

He remembered back to his training. He breathed in and donned another stance.

This time, it was the Crown Prince’s.

The Tall Man leaped from the ground to the side and, using the air as platforms, began to turn himself into what can only be described as like a rubber ball bouncing around inside a container.

But surprisingly, Asher’s eyes caught up with every leap the man took. Ben’s stance offers no openings and allows him to observe all the enemy's movements. 

The Tall Man attacked from his right flank but Asher’s eyes locked on to him immediately. Asher's body moved in an instant, like a wave crashing through an ocean.

He took a step, leaned down, and cut.

Shraaak

Asher found himself a few meters ahead of the position he was in before.

“Agh!” The Tall Man behind the young knight coughed blood a gigantic gash was made from his left shoulder to his right hip. “Shit.” 

Asher turned to face the Tall Man who smiled towards the youngster. “It's over.”

“You foolish boy.” The Tall Man croaked, spilling more blood from his mouth as the gash in his chest reddened ever more crimson.

“Your name?” Asher let out his hand. “Let me carry it in the honor of this battle.”

…

…

…

“Nah.” The Tall man fell to the ground in an awkward tumble. He lay there, unmoving, and breathless.

“Sir?” The young thief, Soyeon, peeked her head out of the bushes she was hiding in. “Are you done?”

“Yeah, it's ove—” The Knight couldn't finish his sentence as he too keeled over from the fatigue of this one singular fight.

“SIR!?” He heard the voice of the young thief call out to him in worry. “sir…” It grew more and more faint.

A sweet cold embrace tingled his body and the hairs on his skin began to crawl. However, this cold, this chill…it felt comfortable, like an old mother's embrace.

Asher’s eyes fought to remain conscious but alas, his vision turned blurrier and blurrier.

Until all he saw was darkness.