Fire.
Blood.
Smoke.
Fuel.
Dragons.
That was all Klein could see. His eardrums vibrated like a thousand steel cymbals in his skull, and his head throbbed with more pain than he could fathom.
It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as when he had to see his family massacred in front of him.
His wives and daughters - brutalized. His dignified sons - whipped, flayed, and beheaded.
His heart was broken, shattered into a million pieces, as his eyes were empty of tears.
He was just an ordinary apothecary. Nothing special or grand. In this world, his skills barely merited a generous C-class rating, and his achievements were hardly worth a footnote.
But Klein had always worked in silence, chasing truth through lies like fishing a needle from a mountain of adagar dung—waste from the fast-footed, horned beast that blanketed entire fields in filth.
The previous moment of the devastation was still fresh in his memories.
Klein arrived home late after his daily duties, excited to spend the night with one of his gorgeous wives.
It was a quiet midnight of the 3rd moon sumberlance, when the dazzling moon, Rui, Drew closer to our world. The moon's silver light was brighter, illuminating the star-filled sky with its glorious light, and it was taken as a good omen.
Of course, the other six moons are sacred to Klein's people, and all far and wide. But Rui...Rui was different.
Myths and fables surrounded the origin of the moon, with each coming from different clans or tribes.
The astrologers—those cloaked fanatics that called themselves the moon spiders—theorized Rui simply appeared one day. Not through ritual or divine intervention, but just appeared. The theories varied, with no satisfying answer, but people took what they were given.
As Klein entered his home, he was greeted with silence—and the naked body of his second wife, Moon.
Klein smiled, unaware it would be the last night of his lover.
They made love, unhurried and unashamed, clinging to each other beneath Rui's gaze.
Later, Klein sat peacefully on the bed, as Moon slept peacefully.
He was reading a strange book, a book in tatters and ruins, with claw marks and burnt pages. The cover was charred with ash, and with an ominous title: Immortal System.
Through the almost unreadable content, Klein devoured them with the hunger of a man possessed—eyes wild with curiosity, or madness, or both.
When Moon awoke, she teased;
"You read too much, my love. One day, your thoughts will burn from within."
Klein grinned and replied,
"It's already charred, sweetheart."
She was clever, born to be an astrologer, but denied her place. Her theory—that Rui was born of gravitational collapse—was dismissed, even ridiculed. Suspiciously so.
She loved her husband, but her joy for the celestials never faded.
Klein never deserved this, as he was admired by all.
He was known to be a diligent worker, always trying to break his limit, but today the limit broke him.
Through the chaos, only the book remained, clutched in fading fingers, as the warmth of Moon's embrace slipped from his skin.
The attacker's plot was devious.
All 7 barriers were breached near dusk.
Seven adult inferno dragons soared through the skies, trailing fire and destruction. Within thirty Brumites—each a mere sixty seconds—the town was gone.
They wore crimson armor, crowned helmets shaped like dragon fangs, carved from blood cane alloy. Their steel-red robes hid bloodstains as if they'd never been there. They carried swords, sickles, cannons, jousters, rifles —even mounted bazookas.
The weapons killed anything that moved: The young, the old, the praying, the pleaders, the fighters ...Truly, nobody was safe from the carnage.
His hands trembled as he held the black book, the last remnant of his home.
The sounds of footsteps echoed as three attackers loomed over him.
One wore a helmet shaped not like a dragon—but a Hammer Bull. A giant red horizontal hammer with two curling tusks covered his face.
Behind him came two more: dragon-helmed and silent.
The flames still roared in the distance. Embers painted the sky blue, orange, and pink. Klein's breath seized, and his vision blurred from smoke and blood.
The Hammer Bull stepped forward and drew his sword. He declared in a voice so deep and eerie it sent a tremor through Klein's spine.
"For the love of the great King Otto the Third," he said, "I pledge to my liege my loyalty, as I bring the great Rainbow clan to extinction. Though lives were laid for this victory, we pray for their soul to rest with the Almighty, with no fear, worries, or sorrows, Amen."
The prayer ended with all the Attackers chorusing Amen.
The power of the great and versatile warriors of the Rainbow clan was undeniable, battling with their might and eyes.
A certain warrior was sure to change the tide of the Battle, but he got buried before he could release his Divinity, the gift of god. His name carried strength: The Black in the Rainbow, Jugram Quincell.
The Attackers were surrounding Klein, with the Hammer Bull preparing to strike.
Klein carefully hid his book.
The potential secret to Immortality.
"What have you..." Klein wheezed, "What have you done to my village?"
"Your village?" An attacker with the helmet of a dragon spoke up, squatting on a wooden pillar.
"This place is worthless to our Great King Otto the Third, our Order and Lord." The Attacker chuckled." Consider yourself blessed that we showed mercy to carry out his dearest wishes in secrecy, or your people will die in shame....."
Before the Attacker could finish, a blur of red launched faster than Klein's bloodshot eyes could keep up and decapitated his head.
The killer was dressed in the same red armour, but with a helmet carved to resemble an Arachi, large, beastly spiders known for their insatiable hunger.
The Head of the Attacker fell, and nobody seemed to be bothered.
Klein was so petrified that even he wasn't moved by the death of the attacker.
Brutal, yes—but compared to what he'd just witnessed, almost merciful
"My dearest Apologies," The Hammer Bull Attacker calmly said, but there was a shift in his voice.
"Wait, why am I apologizing. The soldier was right, your people are disgraceful. Our lord is furious with you, barbarians. Hundreds of men laid their lives to for this mission succeeded, and the dragons were difficult to breed. And yes, we are to kill you also."
Klein could see the Arachni Attacker cleaning her sword. Yes, it was a 'her' due to Klein having the innate talent of discerning genders. He couldn't just tell her gender; he saw her bloodthirst, wickedness, and malice.
The strong shape of the lady reminded him of his late timid but strong 1st daughter, Terra. The fierce woman died trying to protect children from the onslaught.
Klein tried to stay focused, so he spoke to prolong the conversation further to delay his death; maybe he felt hope at that time.
"If he was right," Klein whispered, "then why was he killed?"
"Because he has no authority to speak yet !!!" The warrior's screams echoed, "And disobedience comes with punishment, and your village is a prime example."
It was obvious the Hammer bull was the leader. His presence, his power, his authority; they all commanded respect.
His presence was threatening enough, and Klein was forced to talk to the butcher of his people.
"Then grant me this, butcher," Klein rasped. "Tell me what we did. Let a dying man meet death with truth on his tongue."
The blood-stained soldiers laughed.
"Truth? What value is truth in the hands of a dead man?"
Questions scratched the edges of Klein's brain, and he needed answers.
"My soul will wander," Klein whispered. "Do you wish to damn a man twice?"
Klein has steadied his breathing, and his blood has stopped flowing profusely. He was still bleeding, but not fatally.
"Why not ask the Almighty when you get there?" An attacker joked.
Bang!!
A gunshot was heard, and the warrior was dead. A female attacker holstered her rifle. No authority to speak.
Klein knew the Attackers would kill him either way, but he needed just a few more seconds.
"Please, I beg of you, tell me our sins; this is my dying wish." Klein pleaded.
The manipulation skills of his 3rd son, Seigfried, were useful in this case. The intelligent and cunning youth was determined to be a great detective, the greatest in the world.
The comical memory of Seigfried successfully manipulating his brethren to lend him some money appeared in Klein's head.
The Handsome and patient lad was sadly buried alive. The gods are truly cruel.
The Attacker lowered his sword, a 3-meter-long blade made out of red steel that seemed to steal the hope of Klein's survival out of his mind.
"We received the command. We never questioned it."