Prologue: chapter 0- Once was the benefactor

In this world, those in power hold all control. Whether by overwhelming combat prowess or the cunning ability to manipulate others, power defines one's place. It is a world where calm composure and unwavering respect are not just traits—but necessities.

Sword, magic, fist, bow, and mind—everything here can become a weapon, if wielded with precision and purpose.

Those who master any of these can stand against even the so-called superior races—demons, and the ones who arrogantly proclaim themselves as “GODS.”

A village burned under a crimson sky, its streets overflowing with the lifeless. Corpses littered the ground—men, women, even children—all consumed by war's merciless tide. Amidst the devastation, a heavily armored man walked alone, his steps slow, almost reverent, as if he were reliving memories now turned to ashes.

“To think it would come to this… Neither the demons nor the southern kingdom spared a thought for the casualties, huh?” he murmured, scanning the ruins.

He wandered further, his sharp gaze drifting through the charred wreckage, as though searching—desperately—for a miracle, a single life untouched by the horror.

“Men, women, and even children… They showed no mercy.”

The deeper he moved through the destruction, the heavier the weight on his heart became. A veteran of many wars, he had seen countless tragedies, but even he struggled not to retch at the sight of so many innocents slaughtered.

“This is hopeless… I’ve long surpassed the time I was given to search—”

But then, something caught his attention. A faint noise—barely a whisper—yet enough to make the seasoned warrior freeze.

“I just heard… a voice.”

He bolted forward, carrying a massive axe with ease, as though it were carved from wood rather than steel. “I’m sure of it… faint, but definitely a human voice.”

His strides shook the earth beneath him, leaving craters with every step. Then, he leapt, soaring over thirteen—no, maybe seventeen—homes, before landing with crushing force at the structure where the presence had originated.

“What happened here…? Never mind that. Someone is still alive.”

He approached a house nearly cleaved in half, flames dancing along its crumbling frame. It was clear—the voice had come from within.

“Please don’t let it be from in there… The fire’s fresh—the structure hasn’t collapsed yet. There might still be hope.”

He studied the roof and weakened supports, wary that his weight might cause the entire thing to collapse—possibly snuffing out the very life he came to save.

‘I need to be careful,’ he thought, carefully stepping inside. The faint voice returned, and this time, he could make it out clearly.

‘A child...’ he realized, heart tightening as he scoured every room—finding nothing.

“Damn it! Their presence is fading—I need to find them now!”

The fire roared, intensifying by the second, threatening to devour what little hope remained. But then—

“H-help…”

‘The voice—it’s coming from the bathroom!’ He rushed to it, breaking through the door, and found the child.

Eyes devoid of life. Bloodied. Scratched. The wounds were jagged—clearly from a large blade. As the man’s eyes scanned the room, he saw a trail of blood, tracing where the child had dragged himself from.

He followed it, stunned at what he saw.

“This... This shouldn’t be possible.”

Acting quickly, he treated the child’s wounds with ointments and bandages from compartments hidden in his armor. Once stabilized, he gently carried the child out of the burning structure.

“With this… perhaps I can lessen the guilt that’s been eating at me.”

In this world, those who live by the sword must face the weight of their sins. But this is not a world ruled by gods. It is ruled by monsters in human form—beings of terrifying strength and indomitable will.

The armored man carried the child far from the flames, finally placing him down beneath a tree. He checked the boy’s wounds—shallow breaths, weak but stable pulse.

“I’ve stopped the bleeding… All I can do now is let him rest,” he whispered. But as he turned his gaze back to the burning village behind them, a darker thought crept in.

‘Will he be alright… after surviving something like that?’

He sighed, smiling bitterly to himself.

“Then I guess I’ll make you work for me.”

The rising sun cast golden rays from the west, its light slipping past the leaves and into the boy’s tired eyes. He stirred, chest heaving in panic, gasping as though he had awoken from a nightmare.

Pant… pant…

Clutching the blanket wrapped around him, he murmured, “Wait… what happened? I was sure I was just fighti—”

The memory hit him like a hammer. His head throbbed in agony, images flashing behind his eyes.

“Aghhhhhh!”

He clutched his head, overwhelmed. But as he winced, a voice responded.

“You’re awake, kid?”

A massive man stepped into the room. Nearly two meters tall, his presence filled the space. The boy stared, stunned by the sheer size of the man.

“Wait… I didn’t even hear him coming… How is someone that big so quiet?”

As the boy tried to piece it together, he politely spoke up.

“H-Hello… Were you the one who saved me?”

“That’s right. Now, can you check your wounds? Let me know if anything still hurts.”

“O-Okay…”

He scanned his body, carefully touching bandaged cuts. Relief washed over him.

‘I think… he really did save me. I need to thank him properly.’

“Thank you, mister…”

His face showed a mix of sorrow and gratitude—barely holding back tears.

“Don’t sweat it. You’re alive—and that’s the good part.”

‘But… those eyes… they’re so empty…’

Then the boy asked with a trembling voice.

“When you found me… was my bro—”

“I’m sorry. It was already too late.”

“I see…”

He clenched his fists tightly as sorrow overtook him. Just then, a gloved hand reached out and gently handed him a handkerchief.

“Oh come on, don’t cry now.”

“T-Thank yo—… EHH!?”

He flinched in surprise. A woman stood beside him, half her face obscured by a veil, laughing softly in an elegant, ladylike manner.

“Yona, don’t scare the poor kid,” said the man.

“I was just curious,” she chuckled.

“You’re overdramatizing the situation.”

“My bad.”

The boy hesitantly looked between them, then asked:

“Can I… know your names? And where I am?”

‘I need to know what happened. What happened to my home… my brother… the village…’

Yona was about to answer when the man cut in.

“We are the guardsmen of the Mezide Clan. I’m Squad Leader Josan Lembrie, and this is Squad Leader Yona.”

Yona pouted, pointing at Josan. “HEY! How dare you interrupt my introduction!”

Josan shrugged. “Relax. I need a chair—standing all day is killing me.” He chuckled and walked out.

“YOU!!!” Yona growled playfully.

Josan soon returned with two chairs, placing one beside Yona and the other across from the boy.

“Alright, now it’s our turn to ask questions,” he said, sitting down. “What’s your name? And… what attacked your village?”

Josan leaned forward, hands clasped, expression sharp. ‘This might be too soon—but I need to know.’

“I-I’m Hals… I don’t have a last name. Our village was attacked by a Class 3rd Black Hound… and around 7 to 9 Class 6th White Wolves.”

‘He knows their class?’ Josan’s eyes widened.

“I’ve got two final questions. How do you know the monsters’ class… and how did the Black Hound die?”

Yona’s eyes darted to Josan. ‘Wait… that’s from the report. The hound’s body was found in the bathroom—slashed clean from neck to hind.’

‘This boy… could be a major asset to the clan. But what will they do with him…?’

Hals hesitated. His hands clenched the blanket, lips trembling. After two full minutes of silence, he spoke.

“My… my brother was an irregular.”

Josan’s eyes narrowed.

‘An irregular? Jackpot.’

“Were you two blood-related?”

“No. We weren’t.”

Josan’s eyes widened for a moment before returning to calm. He sighed.

“That’s all for now. Someone will come to check on your condition.”

“O-Okay…”

Josan stood up, gave Yona a nod, and turned to leave.

“Alright.”

Before she left, Yona turned around and hugged Hals, wrapping him in warmth, his face flushed red as it pressed against her chest.

‘So this is why people like women with big chests…’ he thought.

“Be-bye, Hals. We’ll meet again.”

“Ye-Yes…”

Just before the door shut, she blew him a kiss with a smile.