The sky above the ruins of Lunaria Village remained gray.
A cold fog hung low, as if reluctant to leave the place that had just witnessed a tragedy. There, among the charred wood and stone, a silver-haired young man lounged casually atop the remains of what was once the village hall. He bit into a red apple—stolen from a victim's pocket, perhaps.
"Ahh~ Refreshing. No wonder that old man always hid apples under the floor. Turns out they're sweet enough to make you forget your house just burned down."
This was Nararya.
A liar. A trickster. Laid-back. And… the only survivor of the village who hadn't turned to ash. Of course, it was all a coincidence.
Or was it?
---
In his hand, a scorched piece of paper. Its writing etched in strange magic—a dark ink that shifted like midnight fog.
> "If you're seeing this, it means you survived. Good. But you're also the next target."
"Meet me in Velathra before the fourth moon sets.
Or you'll sink first."
— S.
Nararya raised an eyebrow.
"Ooh, a threat? Fancy. Got style. Even signed with an initial. Who is this, Shadowblight? That mister-mysterious guy?"
He tore off the bottom of the paper and wrote:
> "Reply to this message. Say hi to your mom."
Then tossed the piece into a small campfire built from his neighbor's leftover floorboards.
Nararya thought for a moment.
"Maybe it's time I left the village," he muttered. "You coming, Nok?"
Nokturn meowed in agreement.
"Cool."
---
Nararya walked alone on a stone path through a snowy white forest. But don't worry—he wasn't entirely alone.
Because Nokturn was perched on his head. And behind him...
HRAAAK! GWAH! ("STOP! IDIOT!!")
Three elite goblins gave chase—clad in armor, spears in hand, panting heavily. One nearly slipped on a patch of ice that suddenly formed beneath its feet.
"Oops," Nararya said, glancing back. "Ice on the road? Dangerous, goblins. Where's your local sanitation crew?"
KKRRRR...GGRRRR...KKRRR...HIHIHIJIJIJI... ("Perfect prey!! Heeheeheehee...")
"Hmmm…" Nararya looked up at the sky, pretending to ponder. "Oh, I see—you guys want to escort me to the city? Well, no thanks."
He raised a hand, and a hazy shadow swirled around him like fog. But instead of using his true power—Imajina-Kinesis—he summoned ice. Snow twisted in the air, then exploded into a small blizzard that sent the elite goblins flying.
Nararya grinned. "Freeze or flee. Simple choice."
---
Hours later, after defeating the goblins, Nararya rested by a frozen river. He dipped his face into the icy water, then groaned.
"Velathra... a big city, full of spies. And maybe Shadowblight's just sitting back somewhere, watching the show."
Then a voice came from the bushes:
"You're so loud. Can you shut up?"
Nararya looked up. A girl stood there—deep pink hair, sharp eyes, wearing light combat gear. She looked injured, but stood with fierce determination.
Nararya blinked. "Ah, enemy? Ally? Alien? Future wife?"
"Name's Nayla."
Nararya smirked. "Whoa, childhood friend! So cliché. But... glad you're still alive."
Nayla glared. "You left me behind when the village was burning."
Nararya whistled, pretending not to hear.
"Want me to heal you?"
"HURRY!!" Nayla snapped, clearly annoyed.
"Straight to the point, as usual."
Before healing her, Nararya thought, What if I imagine having healing powers, without directly using Imajina-Kinesis?
And of course—it worked. Nararya imagined himself having healing abilities, and just like that, he had them. Permanently.
"Wait! That means I can create all sorts of powers from my original one!" Nararya grinned and giggled. Nayla watched him, slightly creeped out.
"What's your deal?"
Nararya glanced left and right nervously.
"What is it?" Nayla asked.
"I don't see him!"
"Who?"
"The Dark King!!"
"Huh? Who?!"
"A scruffy, farting, annoying cat who never leaves my side... He's gone?"
"Oh!"
---
If there were ever a breathtaking view, this would be it.
A colossal tree stretched toward the heavens, its lush green leaves radiating life. Birds circled its crown in a display of nature's vitality.
While searching for Nokturn, they had gotten lost deep in the forest, and stumbled upon this majestic tree. And there he was—the cat they'd been looking for.
"Hey, Nok! What're you doing?"
The cat just meowed and pointed its paw toward the trunk.
"You want me to grab something there?"
Nokturn meowed again in affirmation.
Nararya wasn't just randomly guessing; they'd been together long enough that he truly understood what his cat was saying.
He searched where Nokturn pointed but found nothing—until he spotted a narrow crevice in the trunk. Peeking inside, he found two long red swords hidden within.
"You want me to take them?"
Nokturn meowed.
"How though?"
Before he could figure it out, the tree's crevice widened—just enough for Nararya to reach in and retrieve the swords.
"Whoa. Magic."
Without a second thought, Nararya grabbed the two red blades. One bright crimson in his right hand, the other slightly darker in his left.
"Cool," he said.
Nayla, who had been silent until now, stared in awe at the weapons Nararya had just acquired.
"Let me borrow one," she said bluntly.
Nararya flashed a mischievous grin. "Jealous, are we? Ssss~"
"Who's jealous?! I just want to check if they're dangerous!" she snapped—though deep down, she was absolutely jealous.
Then the ground rumbled. A massive monster emerged from the trees—muscular, towering over 50 meters tall.
A one-eyed Titan.
"Wh-what is that?" Nayla trembled. She had never seen such a creature.
Nararya smiled, stepping in front of her with both swords drawn. "No need to fear. I'm here."
But his legs shook violently—even more than Nayla's.
She scowled in disappointment.
The Titan marched toward them, nearly slipping on a patch of ice that suddenly formed beneath its foot.
"Oops," Nararya muttered as he turned. But he didn't waste the chance. He dashed toward the Titan. "Time to test how good these new swords really are!"
One sword slashed into the Titan's leg, carving a deep wound. Fresh blood gushed. He dashed to the other leg, plunging the second blade in and tearing it sideways—another massive gash burst open.
"Wow, these swords are sharp," Nararya muttered.
The Titan roared in pain. Its right fist clenched and swung down, but Nararya had anticipated it. He leapt, dodging the blow, and with a rapid mid-air maneuver, sliced clean through the Titan's wrist.
"Whoa, awesome," he exclaimed.
Blood sprayed violently from the severed wrist. The Titan screamed, clutching its missing hand with the other.
Nararya sprinted away.
"If you guys wanna die, go ahead. I'm out," he said, waving to Nayla and Nokturn.
Nayla, still processing what just happened, stared blankly as Nararya ran off.
Until the Titan's howl snapped her back.
"IDIOT!!" she shouted, then bolted after him with Nokturn.