Nyxen waited.
He stood near the edge of the woods, shifting from foot to foot, eyes scanning the empty trail his father had gone down hours ago. The wind felt colder now, carrying a strange, bitter smell — like something burning. He clutched the side of his shirt, heart pounding.
Why is it taking so long?
Did something happen?
What is going on in the village?
Fear started creeping into his thoughts. He slowly began walking, hesitant at first, then faster as the path curved toward the village. Birds had stopped singing. The trees stood still, silent.
Then, he heard the screaming.
He froze. Loud cries and wails filled the air. His legs moved before his mind could react. He ran — toward home, toward the sound of people dying.
Smoke rose. Fire spread across rooftops. Blood covered the ground. The village was on fire.
People were running, burning, crying. Soldiers in armor dragged villagers into the streets. They killed women, men, animals — anything that moved. One soldier passed by, laughing, holding an old man's severed head like a toy.
It was a nightmare. A massacre.
He started to wonder — how can a human do this to other humans?
Nyxen's breath caught. His knees shook. He looked around the chaos — then he saw it.
His father — held down by three soldiers, beaten and bleeding. He was screaming in pain.
"No!" Nyxen choked, tears already falling. He saw a blade on the ground.
He picked up the blade. It was old, but sharp. Rage took over. Without thinking, he grabbed the blade and charged forward.
Just as he ran forward, a soldier grabbed him by the collar.
"Where are you going, little rat?" the soldier sneered. "The game's just started."
Nyxen kicked and struggled, but the soldier laughed and dragged him away.
He was brought in front of a tall man wearing fine red leather and golden armor. His eyes were cold and lifeless — the General.
"Who is this?" the General asked.
Nyxen's father, still conscious, saw him. Horror appeared on his face.
"No!" he shouted. "Please! He's just a child! Spare him — please!"
He fell to his knees and joined his hands. "I beg you. He's my son. Take me, not him!"
The General looked at Nyxen.
"Oh? This boy is yours?" he said.
He smiled. "Perfect timing."
He raised a hand.
The soldiers followed his command.
A loud crack echoed. The boy screamed as they broke his father's arm. Then his leg. The man screamed in pain, his lips trembling. He looked at his son with swollen eyes.
"I'm sorry… my child… I wish I hadn't been your father," he whispered.
Nyxen looked into Kael's eyes. He saw only guilt, helplessness, and failure.
He could not bear to see his father's face.
Before he could even cry, two soldiers grabbed him and broke his arm — then his leg. His screams were sharp and filled with pain.
"Silence," the General said. "Or I'll kill your father next."
Nyxen bit his tongue. Blood filled his mouth. He swallowed it, holding in the pain as tears rolled down his face.
"Good," the General said. "You'll need that strength. You will see worse than this."
He leaned close to the boy and whispered, "Do you know why we are doing this? We are offering this land for heroes. We are collecting souls for a hero summoning. We don't want filth near our Hero Camp."
He smiled.
"And do you know why I'm telling you this? Because you won't tell anyone."
"Because I will kill all of you."
The General closed his eyes and began praying. "Oh gods, this is not killing. This is mercy. I am giving these poor lambs meaning."
He looked at Nyxen and Kael.
"So your village?"
He smirked. "It's our cleaning ground."
"You should be proud. Your meaningless life now has a purpose."
Just then, another soldier ran up, laughing. "General! Please hurry! His wife looks good. I can't wait any longer."
"Bring the wife," the General said calmly.
Nyxen saw soldiers dragging his mother. Her face was bruised. Her eyes were filled with fear and anger.
"No…" Nyxen whispered. "No, please…"
He screamed. "Mother! Mother!"
The General clapped once.
"Good. Begin. Right in front of them."
The soldiers tore her clothes. She screamed.
Her husband roared and struggled, but he couldn't move.
Nyxen's body trembled. He felt pain, rage, and helplessness.
"You… you monsters…" he said.
He stood on his broken leg and shouted, "I'LL KILL YOU! You will pay for this! I will rip out your heart and drink your blood! I promise this to the world! If I survive—!"
The General turned with anger on his face.
He grabbed the boy by the neck and punched him again and again until his teeth broke and blood poured from his mouth. His face swelled, vision blurred — but the fire in his eyes stayed.
"I will kill you."
Nyxen raised his hand.
He had stolen a knife from the General's belt.
He stabbed the General in the eye.
The General screamed and stepped back, holding his face.
Everything stopped.
The boy laughed — a broken, insane laugh. The soldiers froze. He looked possessed, ready to destroy everything.
In that chaos, his father broke free.
He grabbed a fallen axe and ran to his wife. He killed the soldiers near her. In a rage, he struck until no one was left.
"Run!" he shouted. "Run, Nyxen! Run!"
The boy started running, dragging his broken leg, crying.
He looked back.
His mother was smiling. His father too.
They said together:
"LIVE, NYXEN. FOR US."
But then—
The General shouted, "What are you waiting for? Kill them!"
Arrows flew.
One hit Kael in the back.
Another struck Lara in the chest.
They fell into each other's arms and died.
Nyxen's tears wouldn't stop. But he kept running — just like they asked him to.
The General, holding his injured eye, screamed, "I want that boy! Find him! Bring me his head! If you don't, I'll kill you all!"
The soldiers were terrified and spread into the forest.
But something ancient awakened in the woods.
A sacred beast — massive, covered in black fur, with glowing yellow eyes and gray stripes — rose from its den. A creature the villagers had worshipped for generations.
It attacked, killing soldiers with brutal force.
"What is this?" the General shouted. "Where did that come from?"
"A magical beast," a soldier said. "It looks like a black tiger… but it's too big. What is this thing?!"
The beast stared at the General.
"I don't care who you are," the General said. "I will kill you too!"
The magical beast was already soaked in blood. It stepped toward the General.
The General raised his hand. Flames formed.
"Hell Flare!"
He cast a fire spell. The forest caught fire.
But the beast didn't die.
It locked eyes with the General.
Then it charged.
The General panicked. "What should I do? Yes, I have that—" He pulled a pill from his pocket and swallowed it.
He raised his hand. A dark mist came from his palm.
The soldier nearby screamed, "General, wait! That's a forbidden spell!"
But foam started coming from the soldiers' mouths.
The General shouted, "I don't care!"smile evily.
"Mist of the Dead!"
The poison hit the beast. It started foaming at the mouth but still charged with all its strength. It slashed off the General's arm and collapsed unconscious.
The General fell to the ground too.
"Damn it… damn it…"
More soldiers arrived. They saw the dark mist and the unconscious General.
"General, we need to leave now," one of them said. "We've suffered too much. Let's go."
They picked him up and took him away.
The General cursed. "This all happened because of that boy. I will kill him."
Nyxen kept running. He reached the cliff where his family once ate together, where they laughed.
Now, he fell to the ground — alone.
He cried.
He screamed until his voice broke.
"What did we do? Why us? What sin? Why, God?"
Dawn came with no light. The sky stayed dark. The snow was no longer white — it was red.
The river that once brought joy now carried corpses.
He limped down and saw the destroyed village. Burnt homes. Dead children. Silence.
He found his mother and father lying together. Nearby were two children — burnt to ash.
He collapsed beside them, shaking.
"Father… Mother… Lumi… Arthur…"
Who will play with me now?
Who will scold me when I do something wrong?
Who will sing with me by the river?
He cried until he had no more tears.
Then, silence.
He stood up.
His father had wanted to be buried in sacred land. So the boy, with a broken body and a broken heart, started collecting the dead.
One by one, he carried them.
Before nightfall, wild animals would come. He would not let them eat his people.
He built a pyre.
He prayed.
"I am sorry. I'm sorry, Father… Mother… everyone. I will not bury you in this cursed land."where we even can't protect ourselves and fight back
The sky was silent.
It felt like the world had ended.
But the boy had not.
Not yet.