Zephyria, a once-proud land now crumbling under the weight of darkness, had no room for mercy. The kingdom, torn by ceaseless battles against demonic beasts, was a shadow of its former glory. The village of Taldor was no different—small, isolated, and forgotten by time. It was here that a boy named Eren was born, raised in the poor but warm embrace of his loving family.
Eren's father, Gareth, was a humble blacksmith, a quiet man who lived for the simplicity of life. His mother, Alara, was a gentle woman, tending to the fields and their small home. They were poor but happy, content with the love they shared. Eren was only three years old, too young to understand the world's cruelty but old enough to feel the warmth of his parents' affection.
But that peace was shattered.
It was the dead of night when the horror began.
The sky, once calm and full of stars, turned black, as though the heavens themselves mourned. The air grew cold. A heavy silence filled the village, the kind that sent chills down your spine. Eren, still cradled in his mother's arms, was the first to feel the unease. He stirred, restless in his sleep, sensing something sinister lurking outside.
Then came the screams.
Eren's mother clutched him tightly as his father sprang from their modest home, sword in hand, but it was already too late.
The village of Taldor was under attack.
Out of the darkness emerged a man like no other. Clad in black armor, his eyes glowed a cold, unnatural blue, a mark of the Demonic Soul Sword Master he had become. His name was Nizen, a Sword Emperor, a free traveler who had once been a protector of the weak, but had since succumbed to madness. His soul sword was like a black shadow, twisting and warping reality itself as he drew it.
He had come to Taldor, not for conquest, but for the souls of the villagers. Each swing of his sword tore through the air like a blade through flesh, and with every strike, the land itself seemed to bleed.
Gareth fought with all his strength, but he was no match for a Sword Emperor. His sword shattered upon impact with Nizen's, and in an instant, he was impaled, his body slumping to the ground with a final, blood-curdling scream.
Alara screamed, clutching Eren tighter, but there was no escape. Nizen's soul sword glowed with death, and with a flick of his wrist, he unleashed a wave of dark energy that swept across the village, eradicating everything in its path. Buildings collapsed, homes turned to rubble, and villagers were slaughtered without mercy.
Eren, too young to comprehend, could only feel his mother's arms tighten around him in her final moments, her body trembling. The warmth of her embrace faded as the life drained from her.
Just before Nizen reached them, Alara whispered a final prayer, her breath fading as the sword master raised his weapon high. In a single stroke, she was gone, leaving only the faint echo of her love.
Eren was left alone in the ruins of his home, cradled in the ashes of his family's life. He lay there in stunned silence, the only witness to the brutality of the man who had taken everything from him. The sky above was dark, a perfect reflection of the void left behind in Eren's heart.
But Nizen did not finish him. He paused, his sword hovering over Eren, eyes cold as ice. For reasons unknown, he spared the child's life. Perhaps it was because he sensed something within the boy, something that could one day become dangerous.
"A soul sword... unawakened..." Nizen muttered, his voice like a distant thunderclap. "Another blade to shape. Perhaps... you will make a worthy foe one day."
With those final words, he vanished into the night, leaving behind a village of corpses and a child whose future had been sealed in sorrow.