Berserk: The Prophet

They hadn't seen each other for at least ten years since that children's duel.

Stam withdrew his stunned gaze, a hint of greed and disdain flashing in his eyes. No wonder...

"Oh, long time no see, my dear little brother. You've grown so handsome. No wonder Dad always used you to get funding for the Knights. Sure enough, a bastard like an elf knows how to seduce people."

"...Just like your vile mother, you're both filthy bastards."

Stam spoke provocatively, which successfully enraged Seranti.

"Say it again?" Seranti said through gritted teeth, each word distinct, his eyes brimming with uncontrollable killing intent.

Stam, however, waved his hand dismissively, looking nonchalant.

"You and your mother are the same kind of lowly scum..."

"Slap!!" The crisp sound of a slap echoed throughout the room, stunning the maid who rushed over.

Stam was slapped to the ground, still somewhat incredulous, then burst into unrestrained laughter. This reminded him of the duel when he was eight years old, when his confidence was completely shattered, and he didn't want to do anything. The sword wound on his neck still left a scar, and he had a high fever for nearly half a month due to excessive fright, almost dying. His health never recovered, and his thin frame could hardly support the knight's armor.

"Hahahaha...Are you angry because you're embarrassed? My bastard brother, hahahaha..."

Stam's right cheek gradually swelled up. He lay on his back on the floor, laughing wildly as if he had found something extremely amusing. He laughed so hard he slapped the floor. Watching him in pain and anger was just too much fun!

Seranti's fists were clenched as he looked down at Stam, his smug face and undisguised greed utterly repulsive.

A series of hurried footsteps approached. Arkas looked at his son, who was lying on the ground, and Seranti in silence. He didn't say anything, but grabbed Stam's wrist and lifted him out.

"Don't let me see you again or go into your brother's room, understand?!"

The white-haired man roared, not daring to guarantee that his lecherous son wouldn't set his sights on Seranti. The family already had enough scandals; the Osokara family of Lake-town absolutely could not be allowed to have such unsavory stories spread.

"Hahahaha... so what? Go ahead and kill me, you old geezer!!" "Cough cough..."

After a flurry of punches and kicks, Stam was taken away by Arkas.

Frustrating family relationships...

Seranti went to the training ground to vent his emotions, sweating profusely. He had never left this castle since birth, nor had he ever left the watchful eyes of those who monitored him. The only places he could go were a few, and he faced familiar faces every day.

It was another dreadful night. Tonight, the man betrayed Thranduil was the one who took his virginity. Worsbury, one of the vice-captains of the Horned Knights, lord and viscount of Kwin, had been Thranduil's swordsmanship instructor since that day.

"Are you resenting me?" The man's low, comforting words made Seranti feel extremely awkward and disgusted. He didn't say anything, because he was in a bad mood and didn't even offer any superficial agreement. This kind of life was truly nauseating.

No matter how strong the young man's slender body was, it was no match for the tall and strong middle-aged man who had already gained weight and was under the influence of a slow-acting poison. He let the man pull him into his arms, and it seemed that the man's arms were still as strong as before. It always reminded Seranti of the night he was violated for the first time, as if he was still so powerless. His body, which was tightly wrapped around his arms, trembled slightly, as if he would never have the strength to resist those big hands.

"Is it because of Stam? I'll find a way to keep him from bothering you."

.........

Stam wouldn't stop. He must have tried everything, using all his connections in the castle. Seranti could always sense that something had been put in his teacup, which gave him a headache. When would this foolish brother ever stop? He was just like a clown.

There's finally some peace and quiet. I heard that the old man... Arkas is going to send him to be temporarily cared for by relatives far away.

Seranti didn't have a good impression of Stam, but he wasn't on the list of people he wanted to take revenge on. The only person he truly hated was that man—Arkas.

Because on that cold night, no matter how much they pounded on the door, they received no response and could only lie helplessly on the cold floor.

On a winter night when he was sixteen, someone deliberately framed him this time. The medicine in the teacup was colorless and odorless, yet even more fragrant than usual. Was it a new variety of tea? Seranti couldn't resist taking a few more sips, and immediately felt a fever. This was very wrong...

His head was spinning, and his face had an unnatural flush. Someone had drugged him! Was it Arkas?! Was he trying to imprison him?

Fear, panic, and resentment intertwined in an instant. Regretting that he hadn't made a move yet, Seranti, feeling dizzy, ran to the bedside to pick up his hidden weapon.

"squeak"

The sound of the door opening echoed like the song of the gates of hell. The guards outside had already been drugged. A series of footsteps approached, about five people in total. One of the owners of the footsteps rushed over, grabbed Seranty's hair, and slammed him hard onto the bed, without even having time to take out the weapon hidden under the bed.

"Heh heh, long time no see, my good brother. It's all thanks to you that the son of the dignified Duke of the Lion Realm can't live in the castle he deserves. You're such a shameless slut, more flirtatious than a woman! My good brother!!" Stam, dressed in a black robe, pinned the drugged Seranti to the floor, tearing at his hair and slamming his head against the wooden bed frame repeatedly in revenge.

"Hehehe, how about letting my good brothers taste you, you slut? Let me see what kind of bewitching potion you've given those old knights."

"Hehehe... It has to be you, Stam. We haven't even tasted the elves yet!"

The group licked their lips, already eagerly tearing off their clothes. Playing with an elf was a thrilling and novel experience they had never had before.

Who would have thought that the skinny, weird boy from childhood would grow up to be so attractive? Anyway, now that the old man is dead, this guy should be my responsibility.

What kind of expression will his brother have? Will he be so ashamed and angry that he wants to die? Hahaha, Stam's twisted and perverted psychology will only be satisfied if he is thoroughly humiliated and trampled underfoot.

Clearly, Seranti felt a deep sense of shame, and his hatred was growing exponentially stronger. Why? Why is it always like this?

Seranti gagged, as if he was disgusted, and with all his might kicked one of them far away. He then quickly took out his hidden scimitar from under the bed and slashed down the playboys. The hooligans had long been exhausted by the beauty and were dealt with in no time. Blood stained the gauze curtains and pure white sheets.

Seranti's two faces turned crimson as he kicked the unsuspecting Stam, sending him flying against the wall. He hadn't wanted to bother with this idiot, but now it seemed... the time had come.

"Cough cough, stop struggling. I used Elf Mint, which can make elves go into heat and hallucinate. Just a little bit is enough to make an ordinary elf drunk for a whole day. You've already drunk so much, don't waste your energy."

Stam got up from the ground with a wicked grin, not caring at all about the scimitar in Thranduil's hand, because he also carried a sword. Cutting off his arm like this didn't seem so bad. If it weren't for what happened back then, how could he have ended up in this inhuman state?

Seranti bit his tongue hard to stay awake. He didn't want to stay in this disgusting place for another second. His long-held hatred and surging killing intent erupted in that instant.

A crisp "clang" of metal colliding echoed in the dimly lit room.

Just like the duel ten years ago, no, Stam now is not even as difficult to deal with as he was when he was a child. Thranduil knocked his sword away with just one strike.

"Pfft"

The scimitar pierced his flesh. Stam couldn't understand how Seranti, who was under the influence of drugs, could kill him so easily. His pupils constricted and his eyes widened. He could only manage a few syllables in his throat as the scimitar precisely pierced Stam's bare left chest. With his fragile heart pierced, Stam quickly fell to the ground, lifeless.