The village died in the morning—precisely as Zego turned his back on it for the last time. The cool breeze that struck Zego's face felt like a slap from the past, carrying the scent of wet wood and dew that now felt heavy. In his hand, a worn map was neatly folded, the only guide he had. It wasn't an ordinary map; he had drawn it himself from the fragments of memory the Elder had left in his mind, a mental map that stretched across the Western Continent. He touched his heavy backpack—inside, there were a few pieces of dry bread, some water, and medicinal herbs he had made himself from the Elder's remaining ingredients. All of this was his provision to start an uncertain journey.
Zego looked to the east, toward the sun that had just greeted the world. He should have started his journey there, to Louyang in the Eastern Continent, as the Elder's note stated. However, a strong intuition held him back. He felt that his journey should not start in an unfamiliar place, but in a place that still held threads of destiny he had not yet unraveled. The power that now flowed like a torrent in his veins felt so foreign, and he knew that the leap in strength he had experienced was a mystery he had to solve. He had to find out what had truly happened to him.
"The Eastern Continent... Louyang... that is my final destination," Zego muttered to himself. "But I am not ready. This Low Four Star power might be enough to defeat Vald, but what about the greater powers on another continent? The Elder told me to go when I was strong. I believe my current strength is far from what he meant. There are many things I don't know here, in this Western Continent. I have to seek answers in AETHEN first, to uncover the truth behind the Master's lie. This is my first test."
With firm resolve, Zego walked down the path that led him to the village. His feelings were mixed. He was about to leave the only place he had ever called home. His steps felt heavy; each footprint seemed to leave a part of his heart behind.
In the center of the village, the residents had already started their day. Grandfather Borin was carving wood, Grandmother Lia was hanging clothes to dry, and the children were playing cheerfully in the yard. They all greeted him with warm smiles.
"Zego! Are you ready?" Grandfather Borin asked, his eyes filled with worry.
Zego nodded. "Yes, Grandfather. I must go now."
Grandmother Lia walked closer, hugging Zego tightly. "Take care of yourself, my boy. Don't forget, we will always be waiting for you here."
Tears nearly spilled from Zego's eyes. He returned the hug, kissing Grandmother Lia's forehead softly. "I will come back, Grandmother. I promise."
Grandfather Borin walked closer, slipping a rusty knife into Zego's hand. "Kill first, regret later," he whispered. "AETHE... the AETHEN Kingdom is big," he continued. "Be careful on the road, my boy. Don't trust anyone."
Zego nodded. He knew that in the world outside, there was no longer the warmth and kindness of this village. He had to be a wolf, not a sheep. The knife Borin gave him at his waist felt searing hot—a tool he would one day plunge into the traitor's heart.
After saying his final goodbyes, Zego turned his back. He did not look back. He knew if he looked back, he wouldn't be able to leave. He walked, moving away from the peaceful village, toward the path that led him north, toward the AETHEN Kingdom. His silhouette disappeared behind the hill, leaving only flying dust.
A few hours after Zego left, when the sun was directly overhead, the sound of galloping horses broke the silence of the village. The villagers who were resting from their work came out, shocked by the sight before them.
A group of knights, about twenty of them, rode on jet-black horses. They wore golden armor that glittered under the sunlight, and the emblem on their chests was a sword piercing a crown. In the middle of them stood a mysterious man. His face was covered by a silver mask, but his cold, sharp eyes radiated an aura of absolute power. His dark robe fluttered in the wind, as if he were the shadow of death that had come to claim lives.
The villagers backed away, their faces filled with fear. They had never seen knights so powerful. The aura they emitted far surpassed Commander Vald. Grandfather Borin, who felt a deep unease in his heart, walked forward, trembling.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice shaking.
The mysterious masked man did not answer. He simply jumped down from his horse, walking closer to Grandfather Borin. His steps were so calm, yet each one seemed to carry the weight of a thousand years.
He stopped in front of Grandfather Borin. "How is it? Have you told him according to the plan?" he asked, his voice cold and smooth, as if he were talking to a puppet.
Grandfather Borin, still trembling, nodded quickly. "Ah yes... Everything is ready according to the plan, Sir... He has gone to the AETHEN Kingdom."
Hearing this, the mysterious man laughed softly. "Good... good..." He looked around the village, his cold eyes scrutinizing every resident, every house, every corner, as if he were appraising an object.
Grandfather Borin, feeling that he had successfully completed his task, smiled and held out his hand. "U-Uhm, Sir? What about the reward from our agreement...?" he asked, his eyes filled with such great hope, ignoring the bad feeling he should have had.
The mysterious man tilted his head. He took off his silver mask, revealing a handsome, but cold and cruel face. His smile was very wide, but the smile did not reach his eyes.
"Oohhhhh.... I A-L-M-O-S-T F-O-R-G-O-T~ good thing... you reminded me..." he said with a horrifying, mocking tone, looking at Grandfather Borin as if he were a disgusting insect.
Grandfather Borin's face turned pale. He felt something was wrong, but it was too late. He tried to step back, but the mysterious man was faster.
"Well... that's okay, Sir..." Grandfather Borin replied, trying to smile, his voice very happy because he thought he was about to get his reward.
Suddenly, an ice sword flashed—Borin's head bounced off the feet of a small child frozen by a scream that would not come out, while his blood sprayed into the air. The last look on Grandfather Borin's face was one of shock and confusion.
"Kill everyone here and burn this village! Raze it to the ground! Take all the small children in this village, kill the rest! Show no mercy!" the mysterious man shouted, his voice thundering, filled with an illogical rage.
The knights in golden armor immediately dismounted their horses. Their swords sang psalms of death, the blood of the residents baptizing the earth into a final sacrament. The cries and screams of the villagers broke the silence. Fires began to rage, burning the wooden houses.
"FOR THE GODS!!" the mysterious man shouted, and the countryside sang in a blaze of fire, with blood as its musical notation. A catastrophe that would change the entire Western Continent. Zego, who was on his way to AETHEN, never knew that the village he loved had now become a sea of fire and blood. He did not know that he had become a pawn in a game of gods far greater than himself.