Villain Throne:I Build An Empire On Bones

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. The sound smashed into Zairen's sleep like a hammer, each thud shaking his chest. He bolted awake, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might break his ribs. The tent was cold, the air sharp, the world outside a mess of noise and shadow.

He stumbled out, boots sinking into damp mud. The camp was a frenzy—mercenaries tearing down tents, sharpening blades, strapping on armor. The air stank of sweat and steel, heavy with the buzz of coming violence.

Edna's voice sliced through the chaos, sharp and cold. "Still sleeping, pretty boy? Get your ass moving. We're leaving."

Zairen squinted into the dark, the sun nowhere near rising. "It's black as hell out here. Where are we going?"

"Bandits," she snapped. "They heard we were coming. Burned a Nearby village to nothing and ran deeper into the woods. We're going after them. Now."

Zairen's face stayed blank, but his blood was hot. He ducked back into his tent, hands moving fast. Lightweight armor clicked on, each piece locking in his focus. Nightweeper, his Class-Two Sword, slid into its sheath with a quiet scrape, ready to cut. He tore down the tent, the cold air hitting his skin but not touching the fire in his gut.

Commander Varek Kaelthorn sat high on his black warhorse, armor dark as death. He raised his sword, its edge catching a faint glow of mana, and his voice roared like a furnace, raw and unstoppable. "Listen up! Those bastards knew we were coming. They didn't just run—they slaughtered innocent people, burned their homes to ash, and left their bodies for the crows. They think they can hide? They think they can escape? No. We're their reckoning. We ride through the night, through the pain, through the fire in our veins. We don't stop, we don't sleep, until every one of those dogs is bleeding out, their screams begging for mercy they'll never get. Who's with me? WHO'S READY TO MAKE THEM PAY?"

The mercenaries exploded, a hundred voices howling like wolves ready to tear flesh. "AIIII, CAPTAIN!"

They charged into the night, hooves pounding like war drums, cutting through the forest. Mist clung to their legs, like the dead trying to slow them down.

An hour later, Varek's shout stopped them cold. "Halt!"

They stood at the forest's edge. Smoke rose ahead, thick and choking, like the sky itself was grieving.

The village was a graveyard. Houses were burned to rubble, beams sticking out like shattered bones. Stalls were smashed, pots melted into twisted lumps. The smell of charred flesh hit like a punch, turning their stomachs.

Zairen slid off his horse, boots crunching in ash. Bodies littered the ground. A kid, maybe five, lay by a well, skull cracked open, brains spilling like rot. A teen slumped against a fence, throat slashed, eyes gouged, his head a few feet away, mouth stuck in a scream. An old woman hung from a burned hut, stomach ripped open, guts dangling like bloody ropes.

Crows tore at flesh. Rats chewed fingers. Flies buzzed like a curse.

"Gods…" a soldier muttered, voice cracking.

"Monsters," another spat. "If i found them i fucking kill every last one of them"

Zairen stayed quiet, eyes scanning the carnage, cold as stone. He'd seen worse in his past life—In the past wars between human and elves he saw elven women dragged away, screams muffled, ears cut off and spiked to trees. Bodies rotting in the open. This was bad, but it was familiar.

He stopped by a man's corpse, jaw gone, teeth stuck in his own throat like a cruel joke. The man's eyes were wide, locked in terror. Zairen looked at them, then turned away, rage simmering under his skin.

A sound came from the woods—dragging, weak. A voice, barely there: "Help…"

Swords flashed. Spells sparked. Varek charged through the bushes, blade glowing with mana. He froze.

A girl stumbled out, naked, broken. Her skin was a mess of cuts and bruises, bite marks on her shoulder, blood dripping from between her legs, telling a story too ugly to speak. She fell, hitting the ground like a broken doll

Edna ran to her, wrapping her cloak around the girl's trembling body. She looked into the girl's eyes—hollow, wild with fear, shaking like she was losing her mind. "What happened?" Edna asked, voice soft but urgent. "Why are you like this? Who did this? Can you tell us?"

The girl froze, eyes wide, then started screaming. "Ahhh! Ahhh!" She thrashed, trying to run, legs slipping in the ash.

Edna grabbed her. "Wait, wait!" But the girl kept screaming, voice raw, desperate. Edna hand moved fast, striking the girl's neck. She went limp, collapsing into unconsciousness.

Edna sighed, looking at Varek. "What now?"

Varek's face was hard. "We wait for her to wake. Next time, keep her calm. Clear the area," he barked to the men.

Gavrik, a wiry mercenary, scoffed, twisting his face. "Forget her, Captain. She's useless, won't talk. Let's move. The bandits can't be far."

Varek's eyes blazed with fury. He swung, fist crashing into Gavrik's cheek. Blood sprayed, and Gavrik hit the ground hard, groaning. "I've ignored your mistakes too long Gavrik," Varek growled, voice dripping with rage. "Don't test me again. Get up and get the hell out if my sight."

Gavrik staggered to his feet, spitting blood, and stumbled off. Varek turned to the others. "Clear out. Now."

Zairen stepped up, meeting Varek's gaze. A spark of defiance burned in his eyes. "Let me talk to her."

Edna shook her head. "No, Zairen. This is too delicate. Go."

Varek cut her off. "Let him."

Edna frowned. "But, Captain—"

"I said let him," Varek snapped. She nodded, stepping back.

Zairen knelt beside the girl, ash and blood soaking his knees. Her eyes fluttered open, and she started to scream again. "Don't be afraid," Zairen said, voice low, steady, like a hand pulling her back from the edge. "I'm Zairen. When I was a kid, they killed my mom right in front of me. Made my dad scream before they cut him open. I was too weak to stop it. But I swore I'd get strong enough to crush monsters like these. You can fall apart, or you can fight. Be their nightmare. You with us?"

Her lips shook, no tears left to cry. "Yes," she whispered, voice barely a spark.

Varek stepped up. "Who did this?"

"They said they were mercenaries," she said, voice trembling. "Drank with our guards, then turned on us. Killed everyone. Took the women. Burned it all."

She started shaking again in fear and began to cry. Zairen said with a smile, 'Don't worry, you're safe with us.' She looked at Zairen and gave a small nod

"Can you take us to them?" Varek asked, voice like steel.

She nodded, weak but holding on.

They gave her water, rags, a knife. Zairen helped her onto his horse, her hand shaky, slick with blood and dirt. She gripped him, frail but stubborn. Two riders stayed close, watching her back.

They rode west, toward blood.

The girl spoke, voice thin. "They took the others to Hollow Ridge. Their leader… teeth like tombstones. I see him in my nightmares."

The forest got thicker, branches scraping their armor, the air heavy with pine and vengeance.

Then they saw it.

The bandit camp spread out under torches, a filthy sprawl of fire and sin. Cages lined the edges, women inside—beaten, naked, crying. Drunk men laughed, swords at their hips, wine dripping like blood. A black raven flag flapped above, mocking them.

Varek turned to his people, his eyes burning like a wolf ready to kill. "Eighty men. Seven second-class magi. Their leader's third-class. Don't be scared. We've faced worse than this. We'll show these bastards who they messed with—they picked a fight with Fangs. We hit the center and don't stop till the ground's soaked with their blood."

Edna looked zairen Eyes, her voice hard. "Show them what happens when they cross us."

Zairen's pulse stayed steady, a war drum in his chest. Nightweeper hummed at his side, hungry for blood. No fear. Just a cold, hard need to end this.

Tonight, the ground would be red.