I will become the strongest and protect my family.
He had sworn it to himself, clinging to the memory of their fleeting smiles, now faded like ghosts in his mind.
-I will become the strongest and save my sister.
He had whispered it, watching his crippled sister shed silent tears in her bed, her once-vibrant spirit dimmed by pain.
-I will become the strongest and bring my brothers back.
He had vowed it when his two brothers vanished without a trace, leaving a jagged wound in their broken family.
-I will become the strongest and save my mother.
He had promised it, standing by his mother's sickbed, her shallow breaths a cruel reminder of a life slipping away.
'Haven't I lost enough already?' he pleaded with the merciless world, his heart heavy with grief, praying it would be the last.
But the world was not done with him.
-I will be the strongest and take revenge.
That was the final vow, carved into his soul as he watched his father being dragged away like a slave, while he cowered beneath the floorboards, helpless and unseen.
...
'Gone… everything.'
Baines lay in the ruins of his once-glorious home, the weight of loss crushing his chest. His happiness, his family, his pride—stolen, leaving only echoes of what was. He still couldn't believe how his entire life crumbled before him.
'And... I watched it all happen.' Beneath the bedsheets, his fists clenched so tightly his nails bit into his palms, drawing blood.
"I will take it back," he whispered, his voice steady but his heart a furnace of rage and sorrow.
His eyes, once bright with childhood wonder and innocence, were now hollow of warmth, filled with a cold and unyielding resolve. "I'll kill them all… and I will take it back."
He wasn't foolish enough to believe it was all chance. Whether it was a cruel plot or as a result of a cascading chain of tragedies, it didn't matter. Revenge would be his. He would reclaim everything—his family, his honor, and more.
He had stayed only for the remnants of his family, the last fragile threads tying him to the past.
But now, it was time to act.
'Just wait for me, everyone. I'll come for you.'
With that vow burning in his chest, Baines rose from his bed, leaving the room that felt more like a tomb.
...
The Baek merchant family had once been among the titans of wealth and influence in the land.
The grand halls and corridors of their manor, he passed by, stood as testaments to their legacy—elegant, sprawling, crafted with meticulous care.
But to Baines, they were empty shells, stripped of their warmth. The beauty of the chandeliers, the polished marble, the intricate tapestries—it meant nothing.
To him, the best part of it had already been taken away. The heart of the manor had been ripped away, leaving only a hollow monument to loss.
"Young Master…" Maids and butlers bowed as he passed, their voices soft with pity or fear, but he ignored them, his steps heavy with purpose. He had no time for pleasantries.
The corridors grew quieter as he descended, the presence of servants and guards fading, until he was alone.
He had reached the basement of the manor.
The underground room was vast and well-lit, its air thick with the musty scent of old materials. Wooden crates and forgotten artifacts lined the wall, though it wasn't to the extent of total neglect.
It was a storage space for old materials.
As a merchant empire that had to keep pace with the world's demands, defective goods, outdated wares, and returned items were abandoned here, gathering dust.
But this place held more than forgotten trinkets.
Baines stood in the empty center of the room, his breath shallow, his heart pounding with the weight of his purpose. He closed his eyes and exhaled, steadying himself.
Baines stood in the empty center of the room, his breath shallow, his heart pounding with the weight of his purpose. He closed his eyes and exhaled, steadying himself.
Then, with a single breath, his feet began to move. They traced a deliberate, sacred pattern across the floor, each step precise, forming ancient symbols as he whispered words under his breath.
It was an ancient dance, one performed to honor a god. It was a ritual of devotion and grace.
The symbols varied by tribe, each unique to the deity they worshipped. Long ago, it had been both sacred and joyous, a celebration of faith and a form of entertainment.
Now, it was a relic, a forgotten key to the past.
The ground trembled beneath him.
GIIII…
The floor split open, revealing a hidden passage below, its darkness swallowing the faint light.
Now, it was a sanctuary, a safeguard for the Baek family's most precious artifacts—their legacy, their power, and their hope.
Baines stood at the edge of the passage, his silhouette framed by the dim glow.