Chapter 78: The Devil’s Mentor Pt1
Fifteen Years Ago
Velinsk – The Northern Borderland Between Zolotaria and Venograd
The wind outside howled like a wounded animal as the carriage rolled across the snow-covered path. The wheels creaked under the weight of the frost, and snowflakes clung to the glass like cold little stars. Inside the carriage sat a small boy, no older than nine. His back was straight, his chin raised, but his hands trembled quietly in his lap. It was Ivan.
His face was still and calm, the kind of calm that comes when you’re too afraid to cry. His eyes, though, told the truth. They were wide and restless, darting to the window, to the floor, and then back again. He tried to be brave. After all, a prince shouldn’t cry. But he was just a child, and he was terrified.
He had been sent to join the military. Not asked—ordered. The late Czar and Queen had given the command. Even his father, the Grand Duke, had approved it without hesitation. Ivan couldn’t understand why. He had only spoken up once, just once, during a meeting. He had said it was wrong to use new, young soldiers as bait in war. He said it with all the courage he had, thinking it would help someone.
But it wasn’t his place to speak.
So the Czar had punished him.
"If he cares so much about soldiers," he had said coldly, "let him become one."
Ivan had been pulled from his studies, his tutors, his bed, and sent away.
His stepmother, the Grand Duchess, had smiled faintly when the order came. She didn’t try to hide her joy. She never treated him like a son. She never even looked at him with anything close to warmth. In fact, he was sure she would’ve preferred if he didn’t come back at all.
The carriage rattled as it pulled into the army base at Velinsk. A cold gust of wind rushed in as the door opened, and Ivan stepped out into a place that felt nothing like home. Snow covered the stone ground. Soldiers walked quickly through the camp, their coats heavy with frost. No one greeted him.