The Demon King had perished, and the seemingly eternal war ended alongside his death.
People across the world celebrated the end of the bloodshed, excited for a new age of peace.
But peace wasn't the only thing left in the war's wake.
Even though the war ended in victory, it left behind countless scars deep, raw, and irreversible.
So much was lost.
Though the land was dyed in shades of ash and despair, one day, hope would bloom again, giving birth to heroes destined to uphold justice.
As for Sol...
'I never cared about any of that.'
"Where is your master?"
The man inquired in a low, serious tone.
A lone figure stood in the grand hall of a ruined castle — once home to one of the great demons, a direct subordinate of the Demon King.
"I have no ide— AHHH!!"
Before Sol could finish, the man dug his fingers into Sol's shoulder and ripped his arm off, hurling him across the room.
–Thud.
'Just how hard did he hit me to make that sound?'
The attacker had a slender build, with messy black hair tied carelessly behind his head. Despite his disheveled look, there was something oddly noble about him.
No one would guess this was the most dangerous dark mage alive, a walking calamity.
"Cursed Titan" Karl Owen. That's what they called him.
"How troublesome," Karl muttered. "Your master has something I very much want, and he dares to run?"
He sighed. "Now how am I supposed to get the potion formula? Truly troublesome."
Sol's vision blurred. Blood dripped from his face, from wounds carved by torture. He looked down at himself.
His brown uniform was now blackened — caked in blood and ash.
This madman had destroyed the entire castle, killed hundreds of demons, all while asking the same question.
No one knows where the owner went.
'That bastard probably ran the second he heard the Demon King was dead.'
Paymon, the castle's master, had been a direct subordinate of the Demon King. While he wasn't powerful in combat, his knowledge of alchemy was unmatched.
More importantly, he held secret elixir formulas taken directly from the Demon King's vault.
With the Demon King gone, every power in the world was after his remaining treasures, and especially, his alchemist.
"Well, whatever. I came here for the Heavenly Elixir, but now that damn demon's run off... I guess I'll grind these demon corpses into some health potions instead. Not what I had in mind, but I can't leave empty-handed."
Crazy bastard…
"Agh…!"
Karl paused mid-step.
"Oh? You're still alive? How surprising."
Sol tried to straighten his back 'no use'. It was shattered. Every breath sent waves of burning pain through his torso.
"But even if you are alive, you're human. I doubt there's anything useful left in your body. That demon probably extracted whatever was valuable already."
Sol opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came. His throat had been punctured, torn somewhere deep. He could taste blood.
"Tch. Just die already. I hate when little ants squirm like they deserve a right to live."
The dark mage raised his hand. A shattered piece of marble floated up from the ruined floor, twisted and melted into the shape of an arrow. He casually flicked his wrist.
The arrow shot through the air with a sharp hiss.
_BOOM!
Sol didn't even register what had happened. When his senses returned, he was staring across the hall — at his own body, slumped near the wall. Headless. Mutilated.
_Thud.
It collapsed like a broken doll.
He hadn't even felt it. It was over in an instant.
'So this is how my pathetic life ends'