Luis stared at Kotei with wide, frozen eyes, cold sweat sliding down his back as he slowly looked toward his daughter sleeping beside him. The soldiers knelt the moment the baron stepped forward. Something about him felt different—stronger. A chill crawled up one soldier's spine, his hands trembling uncontrollably.
Kotei's blue hair and cold eyes contrasted with the relaxed, almost carefree laugh he released. The ground beneath him was stained with soot from recent fires, the air thick with the stench of burned wood. Luis couldn't tear his eyes away from him; the baron stood there like a king—no, like an emperor—granting mercy to his people.
A golden aura flared around Kotei, beautiful yet suffocating. Nearly every human instinctively bowed, trembling as cold sweat dripped down their spines. Luis and Noa stared at him as he smiled gently, as if amused by something only he could see. He walked toward the boat, each step making the soldiers around him sweat harder, their vision blurring.
Entering the boat, he lifted his hand with a quiet smile.
"Hello," the baron said.
"H-hello…" Luis forced a smile, sweat running down his face like water.
Kotei's gaze shifted to the child beside him. "Hello, human child. You look sad. Tell me why."
Noa stayed silent, staring lifelessly ahead—as if nothing in the world could affect him anymore.
"Your silence already answered me," Kotei said, turning to the soldiers. "Bring the relatives of these two to my mansion."
"Yes, sir!"
The soldiers drew sword hilts—no blades—and elemental mana instantly formed into full weapons. They lifted Mary onto a stretcher. Luis carried Kyrai in his arms while Noa followed Kotei with the same empty gaze.
At the mansion, the soldiers took Mary to the doctor. Luis tried to follow, but Kotei's hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"No. You come with me."
Luis obeyed, though worry squeezed his chest. An elven servant carefully took Kyrai and hurried to the infirmary.
Inside the training hall, Kotei faced the two humans. "From today on, you two are… my disciples."
Noa's expression brightened faintly. Luis blinked in disbelief.
"H-how am I, a human, supposed to use magic? I can't even use basic healing spells." His voice trembled with frustration.
Kotei laughed. "When did I say I only use magic?" He scratched the back of his neck, still smiling. "I'll teach you swordsmanship, human."
Luis's eyes widened, hope flickering back to life. He clenched his fists and dropped to one knee.
"Yes, my master!"
I just need to hold my hatred in. If he trains me… if he trusts me… he'll send me back to that hell. And then I can start my revenge.
Kotei turned to Noa, who now showed a bit more life. "And you, human child. Do you accept being my disciple?"
"If… if you can make me strong enough to protect the ones—" Flashes of his parents' sacrifice struck him. Tears spilled. "—the ones I love."
Kotei's smile softened. "I can."
He placed a hand on the boy's head. "From now on, you are my disciple… and my son. What is your name?"
"Noa… my name is Noa."
"Then you will be Hikari Noa from today."
Noa hugged his new father tightly.
"Well then, let's begin training," Kotei said.
The massive training hall glowed with natural sunlight, the walls infused with condensed mana. And there the three began their new path.
Far away, in the dead forest, the Nameless King woke with branches impaled in his arms, legs, and back. Pain shot through his body as his blurred vision stabilized. He rose to his feet, the branches sliding out of his flesh, blood dripping as he tried to stand straight. He failed, leaning heavily on his sword.
He wanted to walk toward the Death King, but his body and mind trembled uncontrollably. He looked at his shaking hand, then ahead into the gray, lifeless forest.
Why… why? His teeth ground together.My peace was right there. Why am I afraid of the one thing I wanted most?
Rain suddenly poured, soaking his wounds and clothes. His body collapsed into the mud, defeated by exhaustion. He sat there, drenched, isolated in frustration.
When the rain weakened, he forced himself forward—only for his legs to give out again. Darkness swallowed him as his thoughts chased him.
I was victorious against everyone… even stronger enemies… but now? I lost. Not gloriously. Not dramatically. Just humiliated.
He fell into the mud again, water splashing around him. His breath grew heavy, the taste of earth filling his nose and mouth.
Is this where I find my peace? Pathetic…
The rain drummed on leaves and puddles. Then—footsteps. Not giants. Two people.
His eyes widened in panic. He tried to rise, but his body refused. His breath came in harsh gasps, his muscles locked. A light shone over his face, blinding him from seeing the woman and man standing before him.
His vision faded into darkness.
The forest vibrated with gentle birdsong after the rain. Poul sat on a fallen tree, watching the droplets fall from the leaves, breathing in the damp smell of earth. Days had passed since they left for the wall.
We killed every giant we encountered… yet why do we stain such a beautiful world with blood?
He examined his clean hand.
This hand is soaked in blood… driven by hate and revenge. I have no regrets—except one…
The clouds parted, letting sunlight illuminate the rain. Poul stared, mesmerized.
I'll spill more blood in this beautiful world…
He waited until the rain stopped, listening to the earth settle. Birds left their shelters in search of food.
Returning to the camp, he found the soldiers packing up. Nature's sounds—rustling leaves, distant animals—filled the area. His captain approached, curious.
"Captain Poul!" the soldier called while folding a tent.
"Yes?" Poul answered.
"What motivates you to train so hard every day? The discipline, the diet… everything?"
Poul raised a brow, surprised. He's really curious… damn it.The soldier stared, waiting. Poul sighed.
"Fine, you win."
The soldier smiled proudly.
"My reason is to save humanity from these monsters. I don't want any of you dying because of my goal."
"What an honor! You're like a hero from the books!" the soldier said, eyes shining.
Of course I'm lying.
They resumed marching. Memories of his hometown flooded Poul's mind—nostalgia mixed with grief. His heart ached knowing the place he loved had become a battlefield. The memory of his wife dying there tore at him.
By dusk they camped again. They repeated the cycle for days. During the march, Poul became even more fascinated by the world's beauty.
One night, they camped beneath a small hill. The fire cast warm light over the soldiers who ate and relaxed. Above them, on the hill, a man sat under a tree, eyes closed, listening to the wind.
In the moonlit silence, Poul whispered:
Something is calling me…The moonlight deepened.Our destiny must be close.
He chuckled, scratching his head. I must be going crazy.
He fell asleep peacefully—until a voice echoed in his mind.
Poul! Please don't go… don't go to—
He jolted awake, trembling, drenched in cold sweat.
A new day had begun.