Confessions of an Immortal. And only then did the Prince, tired of eternity, find his only defeat—in the eyes of a mortal.

The sound of thousands of blades shaking under the blows, like the crystal strings of an invisible harp. The heavy roar of exploding shields, like the moans of the earth itself. The aroma of copper and salt — the blood that soaked the ancient stones of Okhema became the sacred incense of this bloody liturgy. Here, in the midst of chaos, where every breath could be his last, the Immortal Walked through hell with the grace of a demon dancing on the ruins of worlds.

The inhabitants of Castrum Kremnos are born holding not the mother's finger, but the spear tree. That's what they lived by, that was the law. Such was he himself—Mydeimos, a Prince Without a Crown, a child in whose veins flowed not blood, but molten gold. His skin, etched with the writings of battles, seemed to have been carved from marble by the very gods who had rejected his immortality. He walked forward without fear, for fear was the shadow of mortals, and his shadow had long since dissolved into the flames of the Titans. But even eternity gets tired.

When the last enemy collapsed at his feet, when the earth stopped shaking from the trampling of armies, he suddenly felt.. emptiness. Not a wound—what do wounds mean to someone whose body recovers faster than it can bleed out? No, it was a different kind of pain—cold, sharp, like a blade between the ribs. A pain called loneliness. He defended the people, his people. Castrum Kremnos. But what price did he have to pay?

His golden eyes, usually glowing like molten metal, went out. He stood in the middle of a field littered with the bodies of those who might have called him a comrade. Those who were afraid of him. Those who whispered behind his back. He's not human. He is a tool in the hands of the Titans.

One image after another flashed before his eyes. Phainon, Tribbie, Aglaea, Anaxa, Castorice, Cipher and you. After all, you were all his comrades, he could fight not only for humanity, but also for you. And then... you appeared against the backdrop of fallen and trampled opponents. You rushed to him with an agitated expression on your face, almost jumping over the fallen, while the cloak that Phainon had thrown over your shoulders not so long ago, before he helped you find the place of Mydei's battle, fluttered in a strong wind that burned your skin.

"You really came.. I warned you about staying out of the battlefield."

No, the man did not doubt your abilities, you were quite a skilled soldier. Phainon would not have forgiven him if you had gone into battle with him and died there. He can't promise you complete protection and safety against a foreign enemy army. Chrysos Heirs zvalued you too much to put you in danger.

It was as if all his immortality, all the power that made continents tremble, had dissolved in a single touch. His hands, accustomed to gripping the hilt of his sword, loosened. This world had hurt him before and had not even spared his mother, it leaves deep scars. Everything in this damn place is shattering, but nothing breaks like a heart and determination.

As soon as you got close enough, he immediately took a careless step forward, stumbling, but you managed to react in time and grab his arm, preventing him from completely falling to the ground. Mydeimos looked up at you, golden strands stained with blood and ashes scattered over his shoulders.

Love is when an Immortal chooses death in your eyes, rather than seeing his endless emptiness reflected in them. The oppressive silence was broken by a soft chuckle that escaped his lips, followed by his ironic smile.

"Pfft.. However, thank you for not abandoning me."