Ark always dreamed of traveling the world, training his body and willpower far beyond what anyone thought a boy could endure. His childhood motto- "A strong will can gain strong muscles"-became his entire way of life. But one day, a wandering priest uncovered something strange within his small village: a power said to belong to the gods themselves... and that power resided in Ark.

With the ability to revive the dead, Ark becomes both a blessing and a curse. For while people celebrate his miracle, whispers grow louder: Where does the life he restores truly come from? The doubt gnaws at Ark's heart.

Alongside his foul-mouthed childhood friend Narsh (whose "demon tongue" terrifies even her parents) and Malrik, the sharp-eyed priest who guides them, Ark sets off on a journey that's equal parts dangerous and ridiculous. From absurd daily training routines to demon-tongued bickering, the group stumbles through comedic chaos on the road-while slowly uncovering the truth about factions like the mysterious Hound and Ark's divine burden.

In a world where laughter mixes with peril, Ark must face the weight of his strange gift, the meaning of his resolve, and the question that started it all:

"Sage, the life you gave... where did you take it from?"

The little church room was barely bigger than the tool shed back home.


Two thin beds. A wooden cross on the wall. A cracked window that let in the stink of horses from the street outside.


Narsh was sprawled across her bed like a starfish, drooling on the pillow.


I was awake before dawn, of course. Morning meant training.


"...Nine hundred ninety-eight… nine hundred ninety-nine… one thousand!" I dropped the final push-up, my sweat soaking into the creaky floorboards. "Hah! Another record!"


I blinked. "Huh? You awake already, Narsh?"


She sat up slowly, her hair a tangled mess. Her eyes narrowed like she wanted to set me on fire.


"You're doing a fcking military bootcamp workout on fcking holy ground, you psycho…"


I smiled proudly. "Discipline knows no boundaries."


"Boundaries? The only boundary I see is how close I am to kicking your face through that fcking wall*."


"You really should join me, you know. Your demon tongue would be scarier if you had demon biceps to back it up."


"F*ck you! My tongue does enough damage already."


The pillow hit my face, but I caught it, grinning.


"True. Half the bandits we fought last time probably fainted just from your insults."


"Damn right. No one survives the Narsh Special."


But then her tone shifted, just a little.


I sat on the edge of my bed. "…Yeah?"


"Those Hound bastards we saw on the road… you're not scared, are you?"


I hesitated. The memory of their eyes—the way they looked at me like prey—came back sharp.


Narsh snorted. "Hah. I knew it. Big muscle-head's got nerves."


"Yeah, yeah…" She rolled onto her side, facing me now, her eyes softer.


"But listen. You don't gotta handle it all alone, okay? You've got me. You've got Malrik. If those bastards try something, I'll curse them so hard they'll cry blood from their ears."


I chuckled. "That… actually sounds terrifying."


The room fell quiet, just the faint sound of the city waking outside.


Her cheeks turned red. She grabbed the blanket and yanked it over her head.


"Shut the f*ck up, Ark! Don't make it weird!"


I grinned to myself. For once, she wasn't wrong.


I had to be ready for whatever came next.


Chapter 21 - Chapter 21: Morning in the Capital