Chapter 2: Truth

  The forest remains quiet as William leave the decaying remains of the Vampire behind. There’s no triumphant fanfare, no applause—just the soft crunch of leaves beneath His boots and the ever-present ache in His bones. William survived. Again. Somehow.

The town hasn’t changed in His absence. Still gloomy. Still quiet. But when He step back into the tavern, the atmosphere shifts—people look up. The barkeep stiffens, his eyes flicking toward the sword at Williams hip, now stained with unnatural red.

William (calmly):

"Whatever was in your woods?

It’s dead. You can sleep easier tonight—unless there’s another monster tucked behind the ale barrels."

The crowd start to become loud, They kill the quiet, suddenly the tavern feels like alive...

Barkeep:

"what?! you're joking no? do you have proof-"

William toss a pointy ear to the table. just an ear, but it makes the crowd start to celebrating, jumping and screaming of glorious.

Man with Green tunic:

"May we know your name kind sir? this is a great news!"

Man with Tattoo on his shoulder:

"Absolutely we will give you what we have sir, you're truly a hero!"

William just stand still, glancing at everyone at the tavern. less did he know, he smiled once again after he even forget when he did it last time.

William:

"I don't need anything...

or maybe a one or two cup of beer"

The Crowd:

"WE'RE PAYING YOU UNTIL MORNING SIR!!! DRINK AS MUCH AS YOU CAN!"

 Just like that, William's night end there. with joy, with glory.

Until the sun tear bright dark night, birds come out to sing, and people getting ready for they activities.

The news spread faster than an horse race, reaching the village chief, knowing that the chief wants to gift William a proper presents.

 people start crowding in front of the tavern, want to greet their heroes, their savior.

William wake up just to watch those people standing loudly outside tavern, he panicked and try to find another way out.

He then jump to the second floor then snuck from seconds floor windows.

without hesitate He start to walk away from the tavern but unfortunately the Chief found Him. Literally unlucky bastard...

Chief (confused):

"are you the one that everyone's talking about? the Night Hunter?"

William (smile awkwardly):

"night hunter my ass... I think you got the wrong person gramp"

The Chief just laugh, he didn't expect their hero looks like an poor bastard looking for trash to eat.

Chief:

"I can tell its you kind sir, I don't recognize you... you're not from here, so it is you the one who save us, please come to my place, I will rewarding you handsomely"

William just left a slight gasp, just another unlucky day doing business with people, but who doesn't want a reward right?

[At Chief's House]

Little wooden cabin, cozy enough to sleep in here, not that pretty but enough to keep you warmth.

Chief:

"May I know your name kind sir?--

Ah pardon my manners, My name is Hubert the village Chief"

William:

"Uhh nice place you got Hubert, mine is William... William Sparda."

The Chief eye becomes widen, yeah same reaction like most people when they hear Sparda, like its a curse or worse.

Chief:

"I thought All the Sparda were killed? I'm sorry for what happened to your family sir."

William (tilt eyebrow):

"Ohh I thought you were gonna run after knowing my name, yeah I'm survived the massacre."

Chief:

"Why do I have to run? this village has been over Sparda's family protection for years, we are in forever debt with your family sir, after the massacre that happened to your family our village became vulnerable, even the Sparda once again protect us...

Please kind Sparda... may I know what you need? may I help you kind sir..."

William froze still for a moment, thinking.

ah he's still human after all, he still want something from others

William:

"maybe you could help me."

Chief:

"What is it sir?"

William:

"I need to know who framed my family and doing all the plans, I want name."

The atmosphere became silent, they both kill the loud, just starring at each other until the Chief moved.

Chief:

"I don't know if I still have it or no, but some villager try to give the Sparda a proper funeral, we go there and buried who we can, while some taking some clue about what happens that night, here it is sir."

The chief hand over some envelope with a red stained crest, of course it's the Sparda sign crest

William:

"And what is this?"

Chief:

"I don't dare to open it sir, I just keep it safe this whole time, mind if you look it yourself maybe?"

William don’t hesitate this time.

With a flick of His thumb, He break the wax seal bearing the Sparda crest. The paper crackles like dry leaves in firelight—aged, brittle, but still intact. His fingers tighten slightly as He unfold it. The ink is dark red. Whether that’s symbolic or literal… well, knowing His family, it could be both.

Chief:

"Hope it doesn’t scream when you read it.

You wouldn’t believe how many old noble letters do that."

But it doesn't scream

Instead, the voice comes from inside my own head-soft, low, familiar.

Father's

...----------------...

  "To my heir, if any survive..."

 “You are reading this because the Sparda line has been shattered, as I feared it might. We were betrayed. Not by war, not by peasant revolt—but by kin. By the House of Valemont.”

"Valemont the noble church family blinded by the fame and gold, only our family knows their secrets, they're no holy people, their evil and corrupt but good enough to cover it like they're some saints"

"I'm afraid before I can reveal their true face, the nation already burn us down by theirs lies"

“They bartered their soul to a thing older than the Church, older than vampires. They promised it blood. And we… we were the feast.”

"There is a vault beneath the manor. Hidden. It was sealed with my blood, and only ours may open it again. Inside is the true weapon of our house: the blade Nocturne. Forged in night, quenched in demon ash.

And Morningstar. A whip with Hell's chain, which has sharp thorns at the end that can even melt down Satan.

If you are alive to read this… it is yours.”

"Take it.

Wield it.

And finish what we could not.”

"Burn the Valemont name from the earth.”

...----------------...

The letter ends there. No signature. Just a smear of dried blood.

That's quite a Hell for family heirlooms...

Chief:

"That's some tragic story sir, I'm sorry for what happened to Sparda family.

You were just 14 when it all happened Sir William."

William:

"Nah it's fine chief, by the way I might need a place to stay until dark, do you have some place for me to stay? And yeah right now I don't have any coins on me so..."

The chief nod and smiled.

Chief:

"Of course Sir William, you can stay at the inn keeps by the Tavern, just say my name I will charge it for you Sir.

Once again I thanked you for what's you had done to us, may god protect you sir."

William gives a farewell to the chief and head down to the Inn by the tavern.

He rent a room then start placed down all his stuff, throwing his body to the bed that's comfort enough to make him relaxed.

Finally, he can rest for a day after a long nightmarish life, looking at the window and admired how great god make the world, shame it's full of evil and terror.

Well that's why we Sparda were born.

In halls where mercy dares not tread,

Where every step bleeds dreams long dead,

The Sparda forge their young with fire—

A crucible of wrath and ire.

No lullabies, just clash and cry,

Steel against steel 'neath bloodshot sky.

Lessons carved in broken bone,

Wisdom won through screams alone.

"Feel pain," they’d say, "and make it sing,

For death itself bows to our sting."

Fathers cold as winter’s breath,

Mothers clad in silent death.

Each child a blade, not born but built,

Tempered by guilt, sharpened in guilt.

No tears allowed, no respite earned,

Only scars from which they've learned.

To hunt the night, one must become

A shadow that the dark will shun.

Thus Sparda trains, and Sparda bleeds,

To sow in hell their bitter seeds.

And should they fall? They rise again—

Cursed with pride, and honed by pain.

The truth is a weight, but one that fits perfectly in His hand. House Valemont. Nocturne. Morningstar. A hidden vault. The final weapon of the Sparda line, and the final chapter of a war you were born into.

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