"Ah, this headache is killing me," King Leovan muttered.But he still somehow managed a bright smile. "Such a great day… the sun is shining, the air feels fresh, and it's green everywhere. It would be wonderful if there wasn't a looming disaster standing right next to our kingdom."He let out a long sigh. "If only I had been a better king."
"Don't say that, Your Majesty!" said Prime Minister Varos, Leovan's most loyal subordinate. Even in this hopeless state—where the kingdom was practically on its knees—Varos still stood beside him.
He should've run when he had the chance, Leovan thought bitterly. My death is certain. Varos… just escape with the other ministers. I don't want to see you die.
Instead, the king said aloud, "Go, Varos. Save your life."
"No, Your Majesty," Varos answered, stern but gentle. "If I die today, it will be worth it. At least I'll know I died beside you. It was because of you I reached this position. Because of your guidance this kingdom survived. Without you, we would've fallen a decade ago."
"But I only bought time," Leovan whispered. "I never restored the kingdom to its former glory. If only I had died that day…"
His mind drifted back to the day of his birth.
Flashback – The Prince Born Without Limbs
When he was born, he had no hands or legs. People whispered behind his back, calling him a curse, something not human. Citizens avoided looking at him. Pity, mockery, disgust—he saw it all.
Only his parents, King Thaleon and Queen Seraphine, never gave up on him. They shielded him from cruel eyes and crueler tongues. And because he was the prince, no one dared laugh openly—his father would punish anyone who did.
Later, his parents had another son: Crown Prince Aldren.
Aldren had everything Leovan didn't—a perfect body, talent in swords and magic, and the love of the people. Leovan envied him, but loved him even more. Aldren was his hands and feet… the person who would die for him, and the one Leovan would die for in return.
King Thaleon summoned every craftsman in the kingdom to build Leovan artificial limbs. After ten years without arms or legs, Leovan finally received wooden ones. They were stiff and imperfect, but they gave him freedom.
For the next four years, life was happy.
Leovan trained as a scholar. He met Varos, who wasn't of noble birth but climbed with sheer intelligence. The people grew to love Leovan too—his kindness, his charm, his refusal to treat anyone as lesser. They called him "The Benevolent Prince."
But even with that title, deep down, he knew they still didn't fully see him as human.
Aldren saw all of it—the pain Leovan hid—and he couldn't bear it.
The Forbidden Wish
Aldren discovered an ancient book in the royal library, a privilege only the king or heir had. He thought it was a joke: a spell that promised any wish, but with a price.
"Hah… this can't be real," Aldren muttered, but he read the chant aloud anyway.
From shadow's breath and moonless night, We call the one who hides from light. O whispered king of broken flame, Awaken now and hear your name. By bloodless oath and hollow air, Step forth, O lord of cold despair.
A thick black smoke spilled out of the book.A god—an avatar or projection—materialized.
"Oh human, why have you summoned the mighty one?" it asked.
Shocked, Aldren instinctively drew his sword. But the god laughed.
"Foolish mortal. You cannot touch me. Sheathe your blade."
The air grew heavy, crushing, suffocating. Aldren could barely breathe.
"Fine… stop," he gasped.
The pressure lifted.
"I am the god of shadow, light, darkness, and creation. I can grant any wish—but everything has a price."
Aldren swallowed. A god? A demon? A trick?
"I can read your thoughts," the god said sharply. "Do not attempt anything foolish."
Aldren steadied himself. "If you really grant wishes… then grant mine."
"And what do you desire, mortal?"
Aldren's voice broke, but he forced it steady."Give my brother… a fully functioning body. An immortal body. One that heals endlessly. One that can withstand any power."
"A steep wish," the god said. "And the price will be ruthless."
Aldren thought, What price? Even if it's real… what could it possibly be?
"Oh, mortal… a terrible one," the god replied, then vanished in smoke.
Aldren laughed nervously afterward. "No one will believe this."
The next day, Leovan's arms and legs grew.
His parents wept with joy. Aldren cried the hardest.
Leovan was twenty-five then—and his appearance never changed after that.
But the miracle was a curse.
The Price
During Leovan's celebration feast, Aldren coughed blood. His health collapsed, worsening rapidly. Within days, royal physicians said he was as good as dead.
On his deathbed, Aldren asked to see only Leovan.
He confessed everything—the god, the deal, the price.
And then he died in Leovan's arms.
Queen Seraphine broke. She locked herself in her room for a month… then took her own life.
King Thaleon's spirit shattered. He hid it, but Leovan saw the deadness in his father's eyes.
Rumors spread—dark, cruel ones:
That Leovan used black magic.That he sacrificed his brother and mother.That no man born without limbs could suddenly master the sword unless he was a demon.
Leovan never heard them. His father crushed every whisper.
But the kingdom changed. People looked at him differently.
When King Thaleon grew ill, he handed the throne to Leovan, telling the ministers it was due to an unknown sickness.
Privately, he told Leovan:
"Never show weakness before anyone. But inside… be yourself. We love you."
A week later, he died too.
And the rumors began again—louder than before.
The Path of Revenge
With his entire family gone, Leovan drowned in guilt—until he decided.He would find the god. He would destroy him.
For a month and a half, he studied in the royal library.He discovered a hidden cult that worshipped the god.
In rage, Leovan slaughtered them all.
There, he found the god's divine power and absorbed it.His body—blessed to withstand any power—accepted it easily.
The god lost a massive portion of his strength.
And he was furious.
For ten long years, the god attacked the kingdom.And for ten years, Leovan defended it.
This battle—today—was the last one. Only a sliver of divine power remained in him.
"If only I had learned to use this sooner…" Leovan sighed.
He looked at Varos—his only friend—and smiled.
That smile vanished instantly.
Varos' head was severed in a heartbeat.
Shock. Rage. Horror.
The god descended before him, appearing in a form eerily similar to Leovan.
"How pitiful," the god mocked, "to die by your friend's hand."
"You damn god!" Leovan roared, charging.
They clashed—but Leovan had only scraps of divine power left. The god was nearly limitless.
With one decisive strike, the god punched a hole through Leovan's chest.
Leovan collapsed. "So… this is it, huh… god?"
"No. This is just the beginning."
With a snap, two divine pillars materialized. Chains wrapped around Leovan's limbs, pinning him in the air.
The god ripped all remaining divine power from Leovan.
"Finally… it's mine again."
"You can't die," the god said casually. "I blessed you with an immortal body. I can't take it back. So you'll stay here… endlessly healing… endlessly tortured."
"Why?" Leovan croaked. "Why did you do this to us?"
The god smiled—a cold, bored smile.
"Because I was bored."
Leovan's blood froze.
"You were meant to be born healthy… but I took your limbs. Fun, isn't it? I planted the book so your brother would find it. I broke your mother's mind. I gave your father his disease. All because I wanted entertainment. You were supposed to suffer quietly. But you rebelled… so now we're here."
"You… you motherfuc—"
The throne room doors slammed shut.The castle collapsed.
Hundreds of Years Later
The shackles began to crack.