The place was strange.
A field of death stretched endlessly in every direction — twisted ground, scattered weapons, and the stench of decay lingering in the heavy air. Strangled human bodies lay in heaps, corpses rotting where they had fallen.
A lone man stood among them, his armor rattling softly with each breath. His sword hung loosely in his hand, its edge stained dark.
"Are you here?"
A deep voice rumbled from behind him.
The man — Norm — turned his head, but there was nothing. The silence pressed down heavier than the clouds overhead.
The voice came again, low and calm, yet carrying the weight of thunder.
It was dark weather, clouds like bruises covering the sky. The air felt thicker with every heartbeat. Norm's armor clinked as he adjusted his stance.
"Show yourself… Nemesis."
From the gloom ahead, shadows gathered into shape. A figure emerged, and a wide gap of empty ground formed between them. The two men stared at each other in silence.
"Norm," the figure greeted, "how are you, my brother?"
Norm's voice was heavy. "Why, Nemesis? Why choose to kill humanity? How can a man slaughter his own kind? What sin have they committed, that you would bring them so much pain?"
Nemesis smiled faintly. "They committed no sin. I kill them simply because I wish to. And you, Norm — you have killed as well. Have you not?"
Norm's eyes narrowed. "When I took lives, it was for a reason — never to make them suffer. But you… you've become nothing but a murderer, brother."
Nemesis's gaze fell to the weapon in Norm's hand. "Is that the Death Blade you carry?"
"It is," Norm replied coldly. "The strong are meant to protect the kind. You, Nemesis… are neither strong nor kind anymore."
Nemesis took a step forward. "Then why are you here? To kill me? To oppose me? Tell me, Norm… you could end me right now. Here is my neck — slice it through. End it."
Norm lowered his sword slightly. His voice shook. "I can't."
He turned away and walked toward a fallen tree. Placing his sword gently against its trunk, he spoke without looking back. "How can I kill my own brother? The one I shared my life with?"
His gaze drifted down to the ground, where ants swarmed over the carcass of a dead insect. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to the grey sky.
"Was this truly my fate?" His armor rattled faintly in the wind.
Norm looked back. Nemesis's white hair caught the dim light, his red eyes glowing faintly.
"I want you to come with me," Norm said at last. "Stop all of this. Let's live out our days together until the end."
Nemesis shook his head. "I can't. Not since the day Xeudeus gave me this power. I became empty inside. I still remember our past… but I chose power over humanity — command, obedience, authority."
"You can still fix it," Norm pressed. "You are all I have left."
"I can't," Nemesis repeated. "And now that you've sent Xeudeus into deep sleep, I too will be chained to rest until he wakes. You cannot kill me now. Tell me, Norm — what is it that you seek?"
Norm's shoulders slumped. "Then it's over. My own blood — forbidden to kill. But hear me: when Xeudeus awakens, someone of my blood will rise to challenge you. Give them a worthy fight."
Nemesis smirked faintly. "I will. That's my promise."
The two stared at each other one last time. Then Nemesis's body ignited in black fire, his form fading piece by piece until he was gone.
Norm stood in the silence. The wind began to howl, and the heavy clouds released a downpour. He raised his head to the storm and whispered,
"Until we meet again… brother.
[Arc 1 – New Beginning Arc]
Aron woke with a gasp, his skin slick with sweat. Scratches and bruises marked his body, though they were mostly healed now. He stretched, hearing his joints pop, but his mind was on the dream.
"Who were they?" he muttered to himself. The images of the two men — their voices, their pain — lingered in his head.
He dressed quickly and opened the door.
The sight before him took his breath away.
Gentle weather, soft white clouds drifting like brushstrokes on a painting. Endless green fields stretched toward the horizon, dotted with clusters of village houses. Trees swayed in the wind, and the scent of fresh grass filled the air.
"Oh, Aron! You're awake!" a cheerful voice called.
It was Mr. Wood, smiling warmly. "Beautiful, isn't it? I felt the same the first time I saw it — like standing above heaven itself. We call this… the Green Village."
Aron's eyes widened. "It's incredible." The wind ruffled his hair, cool air brushing his skin like a gentle hand.
"Aron," Wood said, pointing toward a distant house across the river, "head over there and tell them Mr. Wood is asking for tools."
Aron nodded and began walking. Each step felt lighter than the last. He could hear goats bleating in the fields, children laughing somewhere in the distance. The sun's golden light bathed everything, and for the first time in a long while, he felt at peace.
Villagers worked the land with pickaxes and shovels, while an old woman knelt to plant a young tree. By the river, women filled jars with water, their reflections rippling in the current. Birds wheeled above in flocks, their cries echoing softly.
Aron spun slowly, taking it all in again and again, smiling — until thud.
"Ow!" He stumbled back, clutching his head. Standing in front of him was a boy about his age, hand extended in apology.
"Sorry! Are you okay?" the boy asked.
Aron took his hand and stood. "Thanks, brother. My fault — I wasn't watching where I was going."
The boy grinned. "Name's Carlos. Haven't seen you around before. You new here?"
"Yeah. Came to train under Mr. Wood."
Carlos's eyes lit up. "No way! He used to be a famous commander. Not many choose peace over war, but he did. Where you headed?"
Aron pointed toward the house across the river. "Need to get tools for Mr. Wood."
Carlos laughed. "That's my house! We handle the village's tools. Let's go together!"
Before Aron could reply, Carlos grabbed his hand and pulled him along. They ran side by side toward the river, sunlight dancing on the water ahead.
It was a new beginning indeed..