The world slowed to a crawl.
Kairo's breath caught in his chest as he stared at the cracked, half-shattered form of the Fire Manager ghoul. Its mangled skull twitched, violet sparks leaking from its fissured mana core. For one suspended heartbeat, it seemed the creature would collapse and fade like its brethren.
But then—something stirred.
And with it, the memories came.
Flickers of the Past
The first time Kairo had summoned the ghoul, he remembered nearly laughing himself to death.
The skeletal figure had stumbled into existence with a wobble, immediately tripping over its own arm and collapsing face-first in the dirt. Its hollow skull lifted with a jarring crack, empty sockets somehow exuding embarrassment.
Kairo had doubled over, clutching his stomach, the seriousness of a lord shattering into laughter.
"Gods above, I thought you'd be terrifying. Instead, you're—what are you even?"
The ghoul had tilted its head, unimpressed.
When kairo was cooking his first meal in the wilds and the night was unbearably cold, Kairo remembered pointing at a pile of wood.
"You. Fire. Make it."
The ghoul had stared blankly. Then, in the most bizarre display, it shuffled forward, piled the wood like an obedient servant—then stood over it, motionless.
"Uh. Fire," Kairo repeated, gesturing impatiently.
The ghoul tilted its skull, raised one bony finger, and tapped the wood. Nothing.
Kairo had groaned, facepalming. "Not tap, you dolt! Fire. Flame. Burn."
The ghoul, confusingly, rubbed the small stick in the wooed log—igniting it, making the first fire in the terratory.
Kairo fell back, laughing until tears streamed down his cheeks. "why do you seem tired? Haha, you can even be tired."
From then on, the ghoul had been his strangest companion. It never spoke, never laughed, but somehow, through its clumsy insistence on helping, it created countless moments where Kairo couldn't help but chuckle. It had once set its own arm ablaze trying to light a torch, shaking it furiously as Kairo shouted, "Not yourself, you bone-brained candleholder!"
Another time, it had proudly carried the roasted meat for the injured Shiri—only to trip and dump the entire thing over its skull, wearing the meal like a grotesque helmet while Kairo rolled on the ground, wheezing.
And yet…
There were times, quiet ones, when the ghoul would simply sit by the fire it had clumsily managed, head tilted toward the flames, as though something in it remembered warmth. Kairo would catch himself watching, a strange unease filling him, whispering that maybe—just maybe—this one was different.
Now, those memories flickered like broken glass above its ruined body, shards of the past replaying in violet haze. The ghoul's empty eyes twitched, the sockets reflecting phantom flames, echoes of laughter, of clumsy loyalty, of nameless warmth.
And then—the eyes ignited.
Blinding violet fire roared within its sockets.
The world shattered.
The ghoul's eye socked lightened—and suddenly, it wasn't in the village anymore. Or rather, it's soul had traveled to an unknown place.
An endless expanse of shadow stretched outward, infinite and oppressive. The Fire Manager ghoul stood alone, stripped of all armor, its bones cracked, its core flickering dimly. Violet flames licked weakly in its sockets.
From the darkness, something stirred.
The air bent. The void trembled.
A figure emerged.
An armored giant, draped in a tattered robe woven from shadows. Its black steel gleamed faintly under an unseen light, etched with ancient, jagged runes. Where its head should have been, there was nothing but a fountain of burning blue flame gushing upward from the stump of its neck.
The ghoul stiffened.
The armored figure stood silently for a long moment, its presence suffocating, as if it alone defined the rules of this space. Then it moved—slow, deliberate—and in its hand appeared a broken blade, jagged and incomplete, yet humming with unbearable power.
It extended the weapon.
The ghoul stared. Empty sockets flickered, confused.
The figure's voice rumbled—but no sound came. Only inaudible whispers that echoed without meaning. Still, fragments reached through, torn from the silence.
"Power… mine… given… worth it…"
The ghoul hesitated. Then, trembling, it reached out. Its skeletal hand closed around the broken blade.
The instant bone met steel, the void convulsed.
Darkness cracked, blue light searing through. The ghoul convulsed as energy exploded outward, tendrils of shadow wrapping it, cocooning it. The broken blade disintegrated into sparks of violet flame that sank into its chest, fusing with the fissured mana core.
The armored figure turned away, its form dissolving into smoke. Its last words trembled across the expanse, fragmented and fading:
"…make it… worth it."
Then it was gone.
The shadow-domain shattered.
Back in the ruined village, the Fire Manager ghoul moved.
Its cracked core no longer sputtered—it blazed. Violet fire spilled from the fissures, threads of darkness coiling around it like serpents. Its shattered bones reformed, turning pitch black, edges etched with glowing cracks of violet.
A single horn erupted from its skull, jagged and cracked, glowing faintly with runes of fire. A cape of shadow unfurled from its back, fluttering with unnatural wind. The remnants of its old scavenged armor melted into a sleek black cuirass, with spiked pauldrons and plates girding its waist.
Its aura surged outward in a wave. Karhux stumbled back, its molten eyes widening—the first time the beast had shown hesitation. Fear, primal and raw, bled from it.
The ghoul raised its hand. From nothing, the broken blade reappeared. Then it shattered once more—exploding into a lance of pure violet energy, long, sharp, vibrating with destructive power.
[System Alert]
[Evolution Complete.]
[Unit has transcended standard summon parameters.]
[Rank Advancement: HERO RANK achieved]
Kairo's jaw dropped. "Hero… rank?"
He had read about it—back in his previous world, in his favorite game,, chronicles of war,, through achieving difficult conditions, a unit csn ascend to something beyond disposable fodder. But to see it—to own it—was madness.
His lips parted, a rare smile pulling at his face despite the chaos. "I always knew you were different. Didn't I?"
Beside him, Shiri's weary eyes widened, awe cutting through his exhaustion. "That… that's impossible."
From afar, Renn the bard froze, his mouth agape. He had seen many things in his wandering, but the emergence of a Hero Rank within the Western Ruins? That was a tale the world would never believe.
The ghoul stood, cape of darkness fluttering, violet lance gleaming like a shard of a dying star. Its soulless eyes blazed with light that was no longer empty.
Karhux roared, shaking off its hesitation, trying to reclaim its dominance.
But for the first time, it was no longer the undisputed predator.
The ghoul leveled its lance.
The battlefield trembled.
And the fight began anew.