Howard crouched behind the rubble, watching the scene unfold, careful with his steps so he wouldn't be noticed. He passed through the places he used to hang out with his friends—now unrecognizable. There they were. The soldiers. Lord Kael. And that Summoned one he had run into before. He wanted to run and find his father, Arl, but with all the fire and the bodies… how could he possibly know what was going on?
It was terrifying. The beast's throat swelled like a bellows, its translucent skin glowing with a sickly red light. Another howl was coming. The Summoned was bleeding. He had never seen one so badly wounded before. His arm was twisted, shattered. And yet… he was still helping. For a moment, Howard almost felt bad for throwing that brick at him the day before.
But he couldn't just stay there. He couldn't let them kill Lord Kael…
That same morning, Howard had been with his group, puffing out his chest in front of two girls who were helping at the church.
"You won't believe this," he declared, while his friends rolled their eyes. "Yesterday, we were spotted by a terrifying Summoned. Looked us straight in the eyes."
The girls, amused, kept eating.
"These two were shaking like babies," Howard went on, pointing at his friends.
"Liar!" one protested.
"Pff, it wasn't even like that," added the other.
Howard ignored them and leaned closer to the girls.
"But I stood tall. No fear. Walked right up to him and asked: 'What do you want?'" He deepened his voice to sound tougher than he was.
The girls giggled.
"And what did he say?" asked one, raising an eyebrow while frost crept over her hands, cooling her drink.
Howard smiled dramatically.
"He said: 'Hand over your stuff, brats.'"
"That's a huge lie and you know it," his friend tried to argue, but Howard was already at the climax of his story.
"So I raised my rifle and—bam! He bolted with his tail between his legs!"
The girls burst out laughing… until the sound of metal striking pavement cut them off. General Kael stood in front of them, his skeptical expression making things worse.
Howard's stomach knotted. The girls quickly hid their food and ran into the church.
"Nice going, old man. You just ruined my moment with the babes," Howard growled. Kael arched an eyebrow in amusement and mild surprise.
"How old are you to be talking like that?"
"I talk like everyone else," Howard shot back with a frown.
"Not everyone just learned how to walk."
"I'm ten. Practically an adult."
Kael's expression said only one thing: Sure you are. Howard huffed and turned his head… only to realize his friends had already vanished.
"Idiots," he grumbled. Kael shook his head.
"Let's go see your father." Howard sighed and followed.
As they walked through the dusty streets, Kael broke the silence.
"How have your parents been since they moved here?" he asked, glancing at the boy, careful not to say something that might sting.
Howard kicked a can.
"Fine. Everyone's been kind… but it doesn't matter," he said bitterly.
"Why not?"
"Because the demons will come sooner or later." His eyes stayed locked on the ground, far too dim for someone who had barely left childhood. Kael clicked his tongue.
"Then we'll kill them. That's what soldiers are for. And we've got a group of Summoned too—" Howard let out a dry laugh the moment he heard that word.
"Yeah, right. 'Summoned heroes'? More like a bunch of cowards." Kael stopped.
"Watch your tongue. They're still envoys of the gods." Howard shot him a look of pure contempt.
To him, Kael was nothing but an old man clinging to fairy tales. Because Howard was certain of one simple, universal truth. He had two memories of his brother.
The first: the day he graduated from the academy, grinning ear to ear, ready to be a soldier who would protect everyone.
The second: his brother screaming in desperation. His parents carrying him as they fled, while the Summoned—sent by the chapel to "help"—simply turned their backs. Not even trying. Just saying:
"Not worth the pay." Howard clenched his fists.
"They're no saviors…" he muttered. Kael saw his expression and didn't press further.
"Then I'll protect them. I won't let anything happen to your father as long as he's under my command."
Howard swallowed hard. Something warm ran down his cheek. He quickly wiped the tear away. They had reached his home. The smell of stew floated in the air—his favorite meal. He smiled faintly, and Kael felt a small wave of relief.
"Thank you, Lord Kael. See you later."
With that, he ran toward the door, a smile on his face. Even if he didn't always treat him with respect, that old man was the only person who had ever done something for his family—he gave them a roof, food, and let his father serve the city even after retirement.
He would not let Kael die. He would not be like the Summoned. With his telekinesis, he lifted a chunk of rubble and locked eyes with the wolf. He was ready.
Daion looked up, trembling. Fear had him in its grip. His left arm burned like fire, twisted at a terrible angle… but he could still move it. His sword lay a few meters away. The tip was broken, but it would still serve. If only he could reach it…
He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't respond. His body refused his commands. The wolf stared at him, holding his gaze for only a second before energy began to condense in its jaws. There was no escape. With a shout, Daion forced himself up—only to collapse again.
The boar-beast let out a guttural laugh, licking both of its maws with revolting satisfaction.
He didn't want to die. Not like this. His eyes burned with frustration, words hammering in his mind:
Heroes don't last long here.
He clenched his teeth. What an idiot I am! Why didn't I run when I had the chance? And why the hell is my mind turning logical now, of all times?
What the hell are you doing?! Get up, you idiot! A familiar voice thundered in his head. He didn't know whose it was, but it sounded furious. His subconscious trying to push him? What a stupid time for memories.
The wolf's attack was ready. Omega energy crackled in its throat.
"A pleasure, Summoned… you were fun prey," it said, its voice booming, distorted by Omega's power. Daion forced a confident smile.
"Then fire, you piece of shit…" he said, trying to take control one last time.
He closed his eyes. The explosion shook the ground with a deafening roar… but something didn't add up. The sound wasn't what he expected. A howl—but not his own. The wolf's. Daion opened his eyes just in time to see the deadly blast ripping apart what was left of the houses beside him… but not him. Something had struck the beast's snout.
The wolf growled, blood streaming down the side of its head.
"Grr… who the hell…?" it asked in confusion. Everyone turned at once. And there he was. Small, his legs shaking, his face tight with fear and determination.
"Howard!" Sir Kael shouted, incredulous.
The wolf froze. Its fur bristled, claws extended, and countless eyes dilated with fury.
"A brat…? How dare a mere child?!" Daion felt the wolf's murderous intent pierce Howard like a blade.
"RUN, BOY!" Howard didn't need to be told twice. He bolted, leaping over the rubble.
The beast snarled like a true wolf, cursing under its breath as it charged after him. Daion saw Kael hesitate.
"Go!" he shouted. "I'll handle pig-face."
Kael hesitated for a moment longer, then looked at Daion, who was struggling to get up.
"Even if I do, I can't kill him without a divine weapon… and in your condition—"
"Don't worry about me," Daion said, trying to sound calm. "It's just a few fractures."
With a groan, Daion gathered every ounce of strength he had left. He wouldn't last long, but it would be enough. An unpleasant memory surfaced.
"Tell me you've got one of those disgusting-tasting orbs."
Kael dug through his pouch while the soldiers prepared and the boar-beast advanced.
"Here. But it won't fully heal you," he warned. Daion nodded firmly.
"I know." He bit into it, forcing himself not to gag at the vile taste. "I just need to move again."
His minor wounds began to close, stopping the blood loss that was starving his brain of oxygen. Energy coursed through his body—but the pain in his bones remained. Just as that hooded man had said, the damage wouldn't heal completely. But his brain gave him a fresh surge of adrenaline, forcing him back onto his feet.
Kael wasted no time and ran. The pig-monster glanced at him for an instant, but Daion hurled a stone straight at its face—it bounced uselessly on the ground, yet the beast turned to him. Daion was terrified, every nerve screaming at him to flee, telling him he was being a fool. And yet… for some reason, he felt nostalgic. He simply smiled at the monster, inviting it to continue.
It turned with a growl, its scorched tusks still smoking, showing weakened cracks. Daion stretched out his hand—his sword flew to him. The moment he caught it, a lash of pain tore through his body, but he didn't let go. He gripped it tight, ignoring the agony.
"Your fight is with me. Let's finish this, so I can go kill your friend." He declared with a certainty that, for the first time, didn't feel false.
The boar-monster roared with fury. It spread its arms wide and charged through Daion and the soldiers, crushing several in its path. It didn't finish them off—just swatted them aside like pests. Its true target was clear. The only one who could strike back.
Daion braced himself, but the monster was already only a few meters away. With brutal strength, it leapt over him. Daion swung his sword upward—missed. In a blink, the beast landed behind him. The ground quaked under the impact, but its arrogant grin never wavered. Daion spun as fast as he could, but a fist slammed square into his chest.
The blow sent him flying, smashing him into rubble. He rolled, pushing himself back to his feet with practiced ease, dusting himself off as if nothing. His eyes locked on the boar, and he raised a mocking hand, daring it to come for him.
The glutton snorted and advanced slowly—until a soldier stepped in his way. A spear drove into its side. The boar let out only a low grunt, as if it had felt nothing more than a splinter. The soldier swallowed hard, frozen in terror, while the monster lifted its massive axe. Daion didn't hesitate. He threw his sword.
The blade sliced the boar's arm before the axe could descend. The beast barely had time to glance up before Daion was already on him. He lunged forward, driving a punch straight into its snout. The boar staggered. The soldier took the chance to flee. Daion pressed on. He leapt again, using the momentum, and unleashed another punch with all his strength. This time, he heard something crack. His fist had struck one of the tusks protruding from the monster's thick neck.
Pain shot through his hand, but he didn't stop. He landed, twisted his body, and drove a perfect uppercut with his other arm. A trickle of blood escaped the Corrupted's mouth as its head snapped back. His blows were working.
Daion inhaled sharply, adrenaline flooding his veins. This was it. He prepared for the finishing strike.
But then, the boar calmly lowered its gaze. At the last second, it caught the sword with its upper left arm, squeezing it tight, unconcerned with the blade cutting into its flesh. Daion tried to wrench it free, but the beast's lower arms clamped down on his clothes like iron shackles.
In an instant, he was hoisted up to meet its eyes. The boar bled, its face bruised. Yet its grin remained—wide and amused.
Did I only make it enjoy the moment? Daion thought, terrified. Its lower mouth licked its lips, eager for Invoked flesh.
"You made the same mistake again—you ignored my arms, idiot," it growled, a guttural laugh rumbling in its throat. "Too bad you won't get the chance to learn from it."
Daion thrashed desperately, every muscle straining, but the monster's grip was steel.
"Fuck!" he cursed, though it did nothing. The beast's maw yawned open, hot rancid breath washing over him. Ready to swallow him whole.
Panic consumed him. His mind shut down. His body refused to obey. All he could do was kick and struggle in vain.
"Please… I don't want to die…" He wanted to cry. But even that wouldn't come.
"An Invoked, begging?" the boar sneered, savoring every moment. "What a pathetic hero."
It twisted him with ease, holding him up like a trophy. The soldiers watched, helpless.
Daion fought to think of a plan, any escape. But his mind was blank.
He extended his right arm, praying for the same power that had saved him before. Nothing. Even though he was more desperate than ever. The boar tilted its head, intrigued by the useless attempt.
Daion exhaled shakily, lowering his hand.
Maybe those idiots were right. This was the moment someone would show up to save him, stealing the glory at the last second.
"I don't really like fantasy stories, I think they're kind of stupid." A different voice echoed in his head. He wasn't sure why, but he felt he respected its opinion. He was tired of this so-called 'fantasy' world.
Of course. No one was coming. Time slowed. He looked at the boar again. Everything about it was grotesque. Why do they call it 'Glutton'? Just because it's a pig? His eyes scanned its body, searching. Something. The boar's tusks jutted from its shoulders down to its thick neck, curving toward its snout.
A strange design. Why? It can't just be aesthetic.
Then—it clicked. A creature this massive had to have some weakness to balance its weight. Its spine. And one of the tusks was already cracked from his last strike.
"Is it time to give up, Daion?" The god's voice thundered in his mind. Daion clenched his teeth, unsure if it was truly the god or just his mind betraying him—but he wanted to answer.
No. He wouldn't. Fear twisted into fury. His brain seemed to ignite, flooding him with every last drop of adrenaline. For a moment, the pain of his wounds vanished. His mind raced a thousand miles an hour.
As the boar's jaws closed in, he thrust his hand downward. His sword flew back to him, slicing beneath the Glutton, cutting its legs and forcing it down onto its knees. He caught the blade—though the recoil drove a deep pain through his shoulder.
"Don't fight with honor…" Power crackled through his arm, racing down the gauntlet. He spread his fingers. A bolt of energy—far weaker than the one that had slain the Hellseaker—burst from the gem. The recoil was brutal. His bones cracked under the strain.
But it worked. The blast tore straight through the boar's open maw. The beast dropped him by reflex. Daion landed on his feet. His knees buckled again, but his right arm still obeyed. He spun on his heel.
"Every monster has a weak point. Hit it… and they die." Jack's words echoed in his head. Daion felt Omega energy surge through his body. With a furious roar, he dug his feet into the ground and struck.
Steel met bone. His one shot. Everything he had left. He wasn't going to lose—not this time. At the very least, he would save these people, prove that his existence still had worth. The tusk shattered. His sword bit into flesh, spine—and then the second tusk. The colossal boar toppled backward.
Its head rolled beside him with a nauseating thud, still twitching. Without hesitation, Daion split it in two with a final slash. Then he dropped to his knees, gasping. His entire body burned.
Did I… do it? Did I win?
The soldiers erupted in cheers. Relief washed over them. They clapped, shouted, chanting "Invoked!" again and again. It was a strange feeling. His body didn't seem used to it—and neither did his mind. No nostalgia, no warmth in the recognition. Daion felt himself on the verge of collapse.
He had done it. He had proven himself. But then—a howl tore through the night. The Wolf. He had almost forgotten. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to rise.
The soldiers stared at him, baffled.
To be honest, he didn't really understand why he was moving either. He could tell himself it was logic: if they didn't kill the Wolf now, it would slaughter them all later. But it was more than that. Not just the rush of victory chants. Something deeper. Something pushing him forward.
You wouldn't leave me, right? He remembered that line—and the image of the blonde woman in her military uniform appeared vividly at his side. His pain-blurred mind was starting to hallucinate. A playful, feminine voice whispered in his thoughts.
Daion fixed his gaze on the inferno burning in the distance. And he ran.
End of Chapter 11