The figure before the creature began to yawn. He threw his shoulders back, spread his arms wide, and began to crack his joints.
"Crack... Crack…"
The sounds of his arms and legs echoed throughout the empty square. The look of relief on his face was as if he had just woken from a very long sleep.
"Ahh~ It's been a while since I last used someone other than my own," he said, his voice carrying a mocking seriousness. His body was still bleeding as he spoke; thin lines of blood dripped from his chest and severed leg ends onto the stone floor. "But I wish this body were in a better state…"
Suddenly, he began to jump. As if he were skipping rope; one foot would land on the ground while the other lifted, then vice versa. Despite his body being covered in blood, his movements were flexible, rhythmic, almost playful.
"I think the kid's name was Ryu…" he muttered, a slight gleam appearing in his eyes. Then his lips curled into a wide smile. "Anyway. We need to recover a bit first. We wouldn't want to kill the owner of this body, would we?"
Then he stopped jumping. He suddenly slammed both hands together.
"Snap!"
A sickly green light, mingled with dark shadows, flashed beneath the soles of his feet. The light wrapped around his ankles, then climbed his legs, wrapped around his torso, and rose up to his neck. In that moment, the figure's entire body was a captive of light and shadow. But in the blink of an eye, that aura silently vanished. As if it had never existed.
The person controlling Ryu's body slowly moved their gaze up and down. They glanced at their own hands, their chest, their shoulders… finally, their eyes burned with a yellow glow. A wide, piercing smile appeared on their face.
At that very moment, the creature roared with a convulsive snarl, and a tentacle shot out with lightning speed.
"—!?"
The tentacle struck the figure's chest. The air shook, cracks spreading across the stone floor.
A cloud of dust choked the square. Smoke rose from the cracked stones and crumbling walls, making the air heavy, nearly obliterating their vision. A stone-like pressure settled on the man's chest as he breathed.
The creature retreated, shaking its massive body. It was flailing its tentacles in fear as much as in anger. This time, the sound rising from within its dark form sounded more like anxiety than aggression. His instincts were telling him to flee, but he didn't know where this hideous body could escape.
A deep roar was unleashed:
"GRHHHHH…"
At that moment, a movement in the dust…
Like a star shining through the mist, a long, thin light emerged. Curves of darkness danced around that light, and that sickly green hue mixed with the shadow dazzled the eyes.
And then—
"Fssshhh!"
The spear shot from the heart of the dust cloud like a death sentence. With a sharp crack that split the air, it plunged into the creature's body. First, it tore through the blood, bone, and veins that clung to that steely mass of flesh.
"GRAAAHHHHHHH!"
The creature's scream was a roar that shook the stones of the square. His massive body was thrown into the air by the force of the blow. As he was thrown backward, he slammed into the building behind him, shattering walls and scattering stones violently. Black and red, viscous fluids gushed from his body, staining the ground.
His body fell heavily to the ground. The sound at that moment was like the sky crashing into the ground. The ground shook, and the stones of the square cracked once more. The dust cloud, the smell of blood and stone mingled together.
And then silence fell again.
Only the distant screams of people and the sound of tumbling stones remained.
At the heart of the dust cloud, a silhouette still loomed. His shoulders were square, his head slightly cocked. He walked with a long spear, shrouded in shadow and flickering with green light. His yellow eyes glowed like fire from the darkness.
Even then, fear replaced terror in the enemy's eyes.
The spear in the hand of the figure who emerged slowly from the smoke vanished with the shadows as if it had never existed. But the arm holding the spear… it was bruised and bruised. Its skin seemed to have been torn, its muscles exposed. He felt as if his arm could easily be severed with any further exertion.
The figure glanced briefly at the dying creature before him. Then he examined his arm, covered in blood and shadow.
"It turned out to be more fragile than I thought," he said calmly.
At that moment, sparks of green light, mingled with shadow, began to swirl around his wounded arm. Dark particles enveloped his arm as if seeping into his veins. Seconds later, in place of the bleeding flesh, there was smooth, regenerated skin.
The figure took a deep breath. He muttered to himself,
"I'd better control my strength. That attack just now wasn't even a fifth of my power. If I accidentally exceed this body's limit… I'll be destroyed along with this child."
When the green glow faded, the injured arm had healed completely. A thin smile appeared on the figure's face.
"Whatever…" he said, turning his gaze back to the creature. "Should I call you a fat pig, or an octopus with tentacles? Ah… my sense of humor seems to be getting worse every day."
When he finished, shadows rose from the figure's palms. He surrendered both hands to the darkness. The flicker of dark green
light spread down his arms. The marks left by the shadows on his skin resembled scars.
His nails, too, changed. They were no longer human nails but those of an animal—long, sharp, death-threatening claws. They had a ferocious panther-like appearance, ready to tear at a moment's notice.
The same thing happened beneath his feet. Shadows rose from the ground and wrapped themselves around the soles of his feet. The darkness crept up his legs, shaping his muscles, particles mingled with the light that swirled around him like fluttering flames. His feet, like his hands, were transformed: painted a dark green, claws sharp and animalistic.
And then-
An aura, a combination of green light and shadow, surged forth from Ryu's body. This aura crackled the ground and vibrated the air, plunging the square into a deathly silence. A sly, devilish grin curled across the figure's face.
In a split second, it… vanished.
The creature struggled to rise from the stone floor with its massive body. Its tentacles dug into the ground like a shaking temple column, sticky fluid dripping down. The stench of rotting flesh and burnt blood filled the square.
Just as he turned his head—
A shadow appeared before his face, imperceptible. Like the flash of lightning… And then, "BAM!"
The figure's fist slammed into the creature's jaw. The sound of flesh and bone tearing echoed through the night like an ominous echo. The massive body stumbled backward, shaking the very ground it shook.
But before it had time to draw breath, a roar rose from the darkness. For a moment, all the shadows of the square seemed to tremble around the figure. Then—the sound was gone.
And the creature felt a cold presence behind it.
Claws descended silently, like tombstones.
Its sharp claws sliced through skin and muscle like paper, etching a deep, blackish welt into its back. A dark liquid poured from the creature's back; blood or cursed mud was indistinguishable. The ground groaned as it dripped onto the cracked stone, as if alive.
"GRAHHHHHHHH!"
The monster's scream wasn't one of anger, but more like a suffocation, a curse. The tentacles flailed wildly, tearing through the air, but the figure's shadow was already elsewhere.
In that instant, the square fell silent. Not even the wind blew. Only the metallic smell of blood and the strange shifting of the shadows remained.
The figure slowly examined his hands, a sickly gleam in his eyes. A smile appeared in his bright yellow eyes. But it was no ordinary smile; it was the smile of an actor who delights in the theater of death.
…
It was dark. Absolutely dark. This place belonged neither to the sky nor to the earth… It was like a forgotten corner of existence. A void that left no footprints, an absolute nothingness where no voice could echo nor light could arise.
And Ryu stood alone in the middle of this nothingness.
"Where—… where am I?"
His voice sounded foreign even to his own ears; as if the words were immediately drowning instead of echoing in this void. He put his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed his contracted muscles. He was weak. It was as if fatigue had seeped into his very bones.
He looked around with slow steps. But there was nothing around him. Not a wall, not a floor, not a horizon. As if he had been cut off from the world.
Then his gaze shifted downward.
There… he saw his own reflection on the ground. An invisible surface standing like a smooth mirror in the middle of the pitch-black void. When he met his own eyes, an indescribable shiver ran through him.
He slowly bent down, extending his fingers down.
He touched… or maybe he couldn't.
Because what he felt was somewhere between the two. It was as if he was touching both existence and nothingness. A cold shiver rose from his fingertips to his heart.
"…What is this?"
Unable to make sense of it, Ryu began to walk.
His steps echoed in the void, leaving no trace or sound. It was as if even his walking was being swallowed by this nothingness.
"Seriously… where am I?"
He talked to himself. "Or… am I dead? Well… wouldn't be surprising, though."
Actually, when you think about it, it was even more surprising that he had survived this far. This skinny, starved body of his… It was a miracle he had survived despite everything. Normally, anyone—even himself—would have thought he would be dead long ago.
But here he was, still.
He kept walking. The only thing his steps brought against was that cold breeze that occasionally brushed his face. There was nothing to see. No ground, no horizon. Just endless darkness.
"This place is getting more and more uncomfortable…" he muttered. "Ugh… I should at least have had a good meal before I died… Damn it!"
He quickened his pace.
Then slowed it down.
Then sped it up again.
But there was something he didn't notice: He had long since lost all sense of time on this walk. Was it minutes or hours… Maybe days… he didn't know. He just walked. And walked again. And again…
No exit, no end.
"How much longer do I have to walk?!" he cried finally. His voice echoed against his own mind, as if nothingness were returning it to him. "It's as if I can't do anything but walk into nothingness!"
Anger mingled with fear. The further he walked, the more a thin crack formed in his mind. It was as if he were losing his mind along with this void.
And that was when he realized it.
As his steps took him… his body was gradually changing. A glow appeared in the darkness; a whitish light began to spread thinly from his body. It first appeared in his hands, then on his chest, and then transformed into a faint beam of light that enveloped his entire body.
Ryu paused.
His hands trembling, he looked down at his own body.
"…I… am I shining?"
Ryu's body was suddenly enveloped in a pure white light. That light illuminated not only him, but also the endless darkness he was in.
"What… is happening?" he muttered, trying to squint.
But the light grew stronger, so much so that even when he closed his eyes, there was a burning white sensation behind his eyelashes. Then… like a tide, the intense light began to slowly fade. Ryu cautiously opened his eyes. And he was petrified by the sight.
He was no longer in nothingness.
He stood on a silent hill, dominated by shades of gray and white.
Only a single tree stood on top. Its leaves waved slowly, suspended in the air motionless, as if time had forgotten. In the distance, the Empire of Velenor loomed. But it was strange… Ryu had grown up there, lived there, but he had never seen it from this far away. It was like a silhouette in a dream; it was there, yet not.
"What is… this place?" he asked with a low voice.
Lost in his thoughts, he was startled by a crackling sound behind him. He turned his head quickly. Under the previously empty tree, now sat a couple. A man and a woman… They were holding hands, leaning silently against each other.
"A-ah! Hello?" Ryu called, but the couple didn't respond. He raised his voice a little louder:
"Can you see me? Can you hear me?"
Still no answer. They simply seemed lost in their own world.
"I think I'm a ghost right now, I guess."
"Why don't you ever rest?" the woman asked in a sweet but tired voice. "Can't you just stop doing that research for a day?"
The man slowly closed the book in his hands and looked at her with a smile. "This research is my raison of existence, darling. I dedicated my life to it from the very beginning."
The woman sighed. Disappointment was evident on her face, but she tried hard not to show it.
"I know… I can't help this obsession with history. After all, you didn't become a professor at Eldergate University for nothing."
The man let out a low laugh.
"Haha, the same goes for you. You work at the Duskbell High Research Facility because of your love of biology."
The woman smiled and nodded.
"You're right."
They both laughed. They opened the books in their hands, showed each other the pages, and began discussing them.
Ryu was growing increasingly confused. He could see them, but it was as if they were behind a fog. He couldn't make out their faces, nor any details. Two flat silhouettes… only their speech and movements. But the question that preoccupied him most was something else entirely:
Why was he seeing this?
Where was this place? Who were these people? And why was he showing him this moment?
Ryu clenched his fists. Uneasiness knotted in his throat.
"…I… why am I here?" he whispered.
Suddenly, everything began to tremble.
"!? What's going on?!" Ryu shouted in panic; his voice choked, as if echoing within a muffled well.
The surroundings began to twist and contract, as if they were in the center of an invisible hurricane. The darkness tore like fabric. Then, black and white smoke began to coil around Ryu like two opposing snakes.
"W-What… this…!?" he said, the words choking in his throat.
At that moment, his eyes fell one last time on the man under the tree. The only thing he held in his hands—that old, dusty book—gleamed. On its cover was a single word:
"World…"
The moment the word left his lips, his vision was completely obscured.
Then a piercing sound rose up in his ears. A hideous, shrill, almost human-sounding, but far more distorted scream…
"GAH! GAH! GAH!"
The sound tore at his very core, as if it were tearing at his very soul.
Ryu, startled, opened his eyes. The moment he did, a blinding brightness pierced his pupils like a sharp blade.
"Cough! Cough!" His throat burned, his dry breath spilling like sand.
When he looked up, he was no longer under that tree. Now, he was in the middle of a desert that stretched into infinity. The dunes lay in silence, but this desert was no ordinary one.
In a distance, a vast void split the horizon. It was as if the world had been torn apart, a fissure opening into eternal darkness. The area around the hole was cracked in strange patterns, its edges flickering with black and white light.
…
The square resonated with the echoes of bullets.
The smell of gunpowder mingled with the heavy stench of burning flesh and blood; screams, orders, and the ominous silence of death were all tangled together.
"Hold your fire!" a commander shouted, his voice laced with both anger and fear.
The police fired their bullets, but the things advancing against them seemed impervious to any blow. Horrible golems, made of rotting bodies, torn flesh, and severed limbs… Human form, yet far from human. Their every step seemed to scream the presence of death.
This was the northern gate of Blight. One of the gates leading to Duskbell, one of the cities of Velenor. It was both the headquarters of the Blight police department and a wall separating the people of Blight from the nobility in the other cities.
To the nobility, the gate was merely a barrier placed between them by insect-like beings; to the police, it was a pile of stone they would die for if necessary.
As the golems advanced, the square narrowed.
"Fuck! Bring the barriers!" shouted a mustachioed, middle-aged policeman.
Several young officers rushed forward, carrying the iron barriers. They were drenched in sweat, their hands shaking. They tried to put up the barriers, but before they could, the horde was upon them. The golems' surge shattered the entire order.
"N-no! Hold the barrier!"
"Help! Please, help!"
Screams rose up one after another. The police, trapped beneath the barrier, disappeared amidst the giant piles of flesh. The sound of bones breaking, flesh ripping, muffled groans…
And then nothing.
Only the golems' blood-soaked hands remained.
The policemen's efforts were futile. One by one, they fell, melting before the herd. The mustachioed policeman, his eyes wide with terror, dropped his pistol. His knees weakened, his breath caught. Death was approaching him, step by step.
"It's over…" he whispered.
His voice was hoarse, almost a moan.
"We are all… dead…"
At that moment, a shadow passed beside the mustachioed policeman. It was a tall, upright monk. In one fell swoop, he dealt a devastating blow.
The blow was so powerful that the golems in the front line were instantly shaken. Their rotting bodies were thrown to the ground, shattered to pieces. But most terrifying of all, the remaining golems began to seize the fallen pieces and eat them without hesitation.
The horde, biting at severed arms and tearing out and chewing on entrails, became a sickening savagery.
Anyone who witnessed the sight could never look at it without vomiting.
"Ugh… there's no end to this."
A harsh, deep male voice echoed.
The mustachioed policeman turned his gaze to the sound and heard footsteps. Someone had appeared beside him. His feet were moving slowly but surely. In the dust and smoke of the collapsed square, he was like a silhouette emerging from the darkness.
He had a light beard. His long, unkempt brown hair whipped in the wind. His blue eyes, shining through the waves of his hair with every step, scanned the surroundings intently. His face bore scars, reminders of past battles; each a silent witness to his experiences.
He wore a white shirt, dark brown trousers, a black belt around his waist, and sturdy brown boots. The worn blue coat that hung over his shoulders bore the marks of long travels with its frayed edges.
The long sword he held gleamed, the metal scratched from past battles.
The man gripped his sword tightly, the muscles in his wrists tensing. As he slowly raised the sword, a light blue, translucent aura surrounded the metal. That aura rippled around the sword like a whisper cutting through the wind, light beams radiating outward.
The man narrowed his eyes, his mouth slightly ajar, and gazed at the horde before him, born from the rotting corpses.
"First Technique: Labyrinth Monk."
The moment his words echoed across the square, a sharp, piercing sound rang out.
"Whshhh!"
He had vanished in an instant. He was too fast for the human eye to follow. All that was visible was the traces left by the blue aura. As the man entered the horde, his sword, gripped in his left hand, gleamed horizontally. At the same time, his right hand drew a pistol from his pocket and pointed it.
His steps zigzagged, his sword tearing through bodies as his pistol ripped through the air. With each thrust, one golem shattered, then leaped to the next. Black liquid sprayed from the cuts, and the gun barrel glowed like hot iron.
He was like a monk wandering through a labyrinth of death; every move forged a new path, leaving only destruction in his wake.
Lucas's sword tore flesh with every line he drew in the air, skulls exploding with every blast of his gun, coating the area in blackish blood. Screams, mounds of flesh crumbling, dismembered organs scattering the ground… The square had become a veritable slaughterhouse.
"Seriously… unbelievable." The mustachioed policeman watched with petrified eyes. His lips quivering, he continued:
"Chief Inspector Lucas Veylar… Despite the damage to his second meridian point… so fluid, so deadly… That's why he's a chief inspector…"
His voice held both awe and such fear that his knees buckled. Lucas finally cut the last golem in half.
His breathing was ragged, his body hunched forward. He plunged his sword into the ground and fell to his knees.
"Huff… huff…"
Sweat dripped from his forehead. His left arm was shaking, struggling not to drop the sword he was gripping. Blood suddenly gushed from his nose. A sorrowful shadow crossed his face as the drops, flowing down his side, mixed with the floor.
"One technique… did I get reduced to this for just one technique? Have I become that weak?… Damn it."
He clenched his teeth and wiped his nose.
"Chief Inspector Lucas!"
The mustachioed policeman's voice echoed in panic. When Lucas turned his tired eyes, he saw the terror on Lucas's face.
"Behind you!"
Lucas's heart stopped for a moment. When he turned his head, what he saw froze his blood: a new pack approaching along the horizon!
"Fuck…"
He threw down his weapon. He gripped his sword with both hands. His trembling arms rebelled, but he didn't let go. There was a flashing light in Lucas's eyes as the massive pack descended on him.
Blood poured from his mouth, his chapped lips moving.
"Second Technique…"
His eyes suddenly flashed like fire.
"Inner Monk."
And the world stopped.
He froze as the golems roared toward him; the populace, the police, the birds in the air… everything lay motionless, bathed in shades of gray. It was as if the heart of time had forgotten to beat.
The only living creature in this frozen world was Lucas, who gripped his sword with both hands. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep. The drops of blood dripping from his nose hit the ground, vanishing without a single echo.
Then he opened his eyes.
Thin, blood-red lines appeared in the gray fog that filled the world. Each line passed through the golems' bodies, marking their flesh and bones. With each shift of Lucas's gaze, the lines multiplied, merged, and traced new paths. Finally, the entire pack was trapped within the interconnected lines like a web.
The lines suddenly changed color; they burned like red fire, then took on a blue hue. A mad light flashed in Lucas's eyes. The corners of his lips turned up.
"Bingo."
At that moment, light erupted from his body, the blue and red glow intense enough to crack the stone floor. He took a step, and an explosion echoed from underground. It was as if the earth had pushed him, thrown him out of time.
In the blink of an eye, Lucas was behind the herd. As time flowed again, a convulsive roar filled the scene. The golems exploded, one by one—as if an invisible hand had ripped their hearts out from within them—and collapsed to the ground. Blackish blood and shards of broken stone sprayed into the air, and then a heavy silence fell.
Lucas remained on his knees, his breathing ragged, his shoulders heavy.
"Huff… Huff… My medicine… Where are…"
He dropped his sword without looking back. He hurriedly fumbled in his pockets, his movements a mixture of desperation and anger. Finally, his fingers touched a hard box. He pulled out the small, white-covered box, pried open the lid. He took two capsules and placed them between his lips, then forced them down his throat with a single swallow.
"Chief Inspector Lucas!"
The mustachioed policeman's voice trembled with the astonishment of still being alive. Despite the bloodstains on his torso, the man ran over to him.
Lucas pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. As he tapped his lighter, his tired eyes flicked to the mustachioed policeman. A look of indifference hung at the corners of his lips.
"Are you… still alive?"
"Huh?!" The man's eyes widened, unsure of what to say.
Lucas ignored his surprise and lit his cigarette. He inhaled the smoke, feeling the burning pain in his lungs as he looked around. The sight wrenched his heart: shattered houses, blood-stained stone roads, lifeless bodies… What had once been an ordinary town now contained only the silence of destruction and the dead.
The mustachioed policeman paused as if he had something to say. His lips moved, his gaze lowered, then tried to catch Lucas's eyes.
Lucas grunted, blowing smoke into the air:
"If you're going to ask, ask."
The man flinched for a moment. He cleared his throat, his voice forced:
"Chief Inspector Lucas… I wonder… why you came so late? And… why did you come alone?"
Lucas was silent for a long time in response to this question. He held the smoke in his lungs for a moment, then released it slowly. His steel blue eyes stared at the scorch marks of the town. Finally, his lips parted:
"Would you give your life for some trash?"
The mustachioed policeman froze. He was confused. "What does that have to do with what I asked?" he thought. Still, he answered honestly:
"No…"
Lucas glanced sideways at him, dangling his cigarette between his fingers. Then he looked back at the ruins. There was sadness in his voice, but he suppressed it expertly.
"That's... that's how the Velenor Empire sees this place. It's no different from trash. Whether it's the people who live here or our colleagues like us... It's all the same to them. Trash."
The words drifted slowly into the air. Like the smoke of a burning cigarette, they held a poisonous, sharp, yet undeniable truth.
...
Everything was pure white. So white that even if one blinked, one couldn't see any difference. No shadows, no play of light… Just a monotonous, suffocating whiteness.
Standing in such a place, one might at first think they had arrived in paradise. But Ryu didn't feel that way. He felt no peace inside him, but an indescribable oppression. It was as if something lurked behind this whiteness; an invisible face watching him, leaning towards him.
A moment ago, he was still in the desert. He was next to that huge hole. But now… he couldn't remember a thing. When he had arrived, how he had arrived, or even if he had arrived at all.
"Ugh…" A strangled groan escaped his lips. "These sudden trips… they're making me sick, really…"
His knees felt weak, and he found himself sitting up. He felt neither hardness nor cold. It was as if he were suspended in midair.
For a moment, he realized he wasn't sitting on the ground, but on empty space. Was there support under his body or not? He didn't know.
He brought his hand to his chin. He tried to feel his skin with his finger, but it was as if the very sense of touch had been swallowed by the whiteness.
Silence…
Ryu lifted his head and looked around. Everywhere was the same. Every direction was the same emptiness. His breath seemed to constrict. He knew nothing would emerge from the whiteness, but he couldn't stop himself from looking anyway.
'I… I can go back, right?'
Even his own thought rang in his mind like an echo. For a moment, he imagined himself trapped in this whiteness, not just himself, but thousands of other copies of himself. Each one breathing simultaneously, afraid at the same time. He felt his mind slowly disintegrating.
His throat tightened.
'What if… this whiteness itself is me?'
A heavy fear began to rise within him. Ryu closed his eyes, but then he realized that behind his closed eyes was the same whiteness. There was no darkness. There was no nothingness. There was nowhere to escape.
"…I want to survive this."
Ryu covered his face with his hands. His breathless breaths, leaking through his fingers, echoed in the silence of the void.
"Even that disgusting place… is better than here."
Even his own voice stabbed into his mind like thorns. Despair, with invisible claws, was tearing at the very flesh of his mind. No matter how hard he resisted, the suffocating silence of this whiteness gnawed at him.
Just then—
A light appeared.
Like a drop breaking through the pale white. A delicate, delicate emerald-toned glow… As subtle as dewdrops falling on a flower petal, yet powerful enough to grip his heart.
Ryu was surprised. His first reaction was a startle, but his surprise was quickly replaced by something else: curiosity.
Trembling, he reached out his hand to the light. What his finger touched was a sensation he hadn't experienced in a long time: warmth.
"So… beautiful."
The words fell from his lips spontaneously. His will melted under the light's allure. It wasn't just a light; it was a presence that drew him in, calmly inviting him.
The green glow began to expand. First, it became a thin line, then a winding path. An unknown path beckoned his steps…
Ryu hesitated for a moment. Fear filled his heart. But remaining in this whiteness was even worse; what could be worse than the silence that cracked the walls of her mind?
"I have nothing else to do…" she whispered and took her first step.
With every step, a transformation occurred. The warmth emanating from the path was like wrapping herself in a quilt in the cold of winter. It slowly, silently enveloped her body, numbing her mind. As her steps took, the whiteness that had previously enveloped her body began to fade.
When he looked at his hands, his eyes widened. The white silhouette had vanished, his skin reappearing.
"I'm back to normal!" he cried out in joy.
Then his eyes turned to the fast-moving path. An inexplicable feeling stirred within him. Was it hope? Maybe. But it was an alien sensation, beyond words.
Ryu sped up. First, he quickened his stride, then he broke into a run. His heart hammered in his chest, his body feeling the freedom of a panther unleashed.
And finally—
His eyes saw the light at the end of the path.
A graceful portal of white and green. A passage woven from light.
"Is this… what?"
His voice trembled, and his steps quickened. His breath caught, his lungs burned, but he did not stop. For within that light lay an exit, perhaps salvation. Finally, he came close enough to touch the light.
He reached out his hand—
And his eyes darkened.
…
"GRAHH!"
The creature's cry echoed as if it shook the sky. Its massive body writhed with the helplessness of a monster trapped among the ruined buildings. Most of its tentacles were shattered, some severed, and some pinned to the ground, it tremblingly trying to move. With each struggle, a sharp, metallic sound echoed, permeating the air along with the heavy stench of wounded flesh.
It was as if a wolf had been trapped between the jaws of an iron trap. But this wolf was enormous, and this trap was invisible.
Fine particles of dust drifting from the sky hung in the air like sparks of light caught in the darkness. And among them came a voice.
A mocking, calm, almost amused voice.
"What happened? We were just starting to play… Are you tired, fat man?"
When I looked in the direction of the voice, a silhouette appeared above a collapsed building, amidst the clouds of smoke and dust. Its eyes were hidden, but its smile was as clear as the coldness of death summoned onto the stage.
The creature's snarls were fitful. Its strength was failing, but its eyes still held anger. Those eyes were the gaze of a chained monster directed at the hands holding the chain.
"Hm? I see you seem quite angry at me…"
The figure that glided through the dust clouds and landed on the ground seemed as if it were born from the darkness itself. The shadows hanging from its shoulders wavered like writhing living creatures, leaving dark traces on the stone with every step.
The spear that took shape in its palms was slender and graceful. It glowed with a green light, but black shadows smothered the light and surrounded the weapon. It was as if light and darkness were battling in the same body, but the darkness prevailed.
It looked contemptuous at the writhing creature on the ground. Its massive body had been torn to pieces, its severed tentacles strewn about in bloody heaps. Despite this, it was still alive, groaning in pain.
"Pfft…" the figure said, pursing its lips. "I expected more from that Black Panther bastard."
The moment he swung the spear, it vanished as if it had been an illusion. He was left with nothing. His fingers trembled, his veins bulging.
"…What?"
A brief moment of surprise crossed his face. Then a thin, sinister smile curled his lips.
"The brat… is he awake already? Faster than I expected."
The shadows began to leave his entire body, starting with his left arm. The long claws slowly shortened, his skin returning to its distinctively human state. His eyes turned distant as the darkness swirled like a tornado. He slowly tilted his head to the right, as if watching an unseen scene.
"There's a battle going on there too…" he muttered.
At that moment, a massive tentacle descended on him. The stench of rotting flesh and putrid blood permeated the air. The blow knocked the figure to the ground; the stones cracked, the ground split open. But the figure was laughing. Its lips widened, its eyes flashing madly.
"I'm sorry, my fat friend… But it's time for me to go. It won't be up to you anymore. Someone else will finish you."
And at that moment, an ominous aura enveloped the square. Even the sky seemed to darken. Black mist seeped from between the stones, and breathing became labored, as if the oxygen had been drained from the air. The golem's will shattered; its massive body trembled, but it could not move.
The figure threw back its head and took a deep breath. Its voice held both relief and an ominous calm:
"I think… that's enough to call someone."
Shadows began to quickly slip from its body. They vanished like unraveling threads, leaving Ryu's body. But before he left, he spoke once more:
"Hey, fatty!" he cried. The sarcasm in his voice echoed throughout the square. "I'd say we'll fight next time, but… unfortunately, that day will never come."
He looked up at the creature, one last smile on his lips before the darkness vanished completely.
"Good luck."
And the figure was gone. Ryu's body slumped to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He was unconscious. Defenseless.
The creature froze. One of its massive tentacles slowly rose and descended upon the unconscious youth. Its tip was about to touch Ryu's chest. Silence filled the square.
Slap!
A dry, high-pitched sound echoed. The tentacle split down the middle. The creature leaped back with a howl of pain. Black blood sprayed the stone.
"GRAHHHH!"
The ground seemed to tremble as the monster's scream of pain echoed. A stench like rotting flesh lingered in the air, and his moans rose like an ominous prayer to the sky. The massive body, staining the cobblestones of the dark streets with its black blood, staggered backward, resembling a helpless savage to a mortal's eye. Its tentacles still struggled desperately, but most were severed or rendered useless by deep gashes. The desperation of a wolf trapped in its jaws was palpable in its eyes.
A shadow loomed from the darkness. The monk, emerging from the black mist, charged forward without hesitation. His steps were a death sentence, pierced the silence. His gleaming sword plunged into the giant's bloated body; the sharp scrape of metal against flesh was crystal clear and haunting, raising goosebumps.
As the monster writhed, its holder hissed,
"Tch! I couldn't cut deep..."
His voice echoed in the ominous silence, a cold, familiar sound.
The man's face slowly illuminated as he stepped forward from the shadows, his blue coat fluttering like the night wind.
It was Lucas Veylar.
'What drew me here... was that sharp aura I sensed from afar. Did it really come from this creature?' Lucas thought to himself, as if he couldn't believe that the suffocating aura from earlier had come from the creature before him.
"Whatever… It doesn't really matter." Lucas's voice cut through the air like a sharp sword. The determination in his eyes flashed with an icy glint for a moment as he aimed his sword at the creature. "I will kill this creature after all."
The creature then let out a scream as if it were having a nervous breakdown.
"GRAHHHH!"
The roar that shook the rocks on the ground was deafening. Despite its massive body, it lunged forward with unexpected speed. The black blood it left in its wake flowed like a stream, covering the ground like a dark river. Its tentacles began to be covered in surging masses of blackish flesh; the misshapen pieces transformed into spikes, forming an armor-like shield. Then, it hurled them all at Lucas.
The calm on Lucas's face never faltered. He took a deep breath; with his breath, the world felt as if it were slowly slowing down. Spotting one of the incoming tentacles, he leaped into the air. Thrusting his body forward, he stepped on one of the oncoming tentacles and began to run.
A transparent, bluish aura surrounded his sword. That aura resembled the depths of the sea before a storm. With a swift swing, the two tentacles opposite him were slashed. Then, he drew back his weapon, lunged at another tentacle, and fired five shots into the creature's head.
"Tch…" There was a distinct annoyance in his voice. The bullets hadn't even left a mark on the creature's head. "Useless weapon," he said through gritted teeth. He angrily threw the pistol to the ground, gripped his sword with both hands, and took another deep breath.
"This time… I didn't come without the necessary medicine. My attacks won't be erratic. This time… I'm in control!"
Lucas leaped into the air once more as a new wave of attacks approached. But this time, his body seemed suspended in midair. His blue eyes glowed with a terrifying light. His lips parted, and blood trickled from his mouth and dripped to the ground.
"First Technique… Labyrinth Monk."
He moved abruptly, zigzagging between the tentacles. The light of his sword danced like sparks among the lingering drops of blood. Each cut left a deep mark, like a bell echoing in the darkness. The creature's scream tore through the sky as the tentacles were torn apart one by one.
"GRAHHHHHH!"
As the severed pieces rained down from the sky, Lucas leaped in front of the creature as if he were using these bloody stairs as steps.
"It's over now!" he cried, raising his sword.
"Second Technique—"
But he couldn't finish his words. For something was leaking from the creature's body… Souls.
The screams of countless people rose from it. Women, children, the elderly… Each one writhing in pain, their inner cries rising to the sky. Souls that the creature had consumed, ground, and digested to evolve… All of them came alive before Lucas's eyes. The calm on his face gave way to profound fear, and then to immense rage.
"You… bastard!"
He gripped his sword with both hands. A blue aura enveloped his body and weapon, this time a yellow light began to merge with it. The aura pulsed like a storm meeting the sun.
"…Darkness," he rasped. The yellow light enveloped the sword.
As he said, "Compassion in the darkness…" the yellow and blue light mingled.
"Cruelty in the light."
Time seemed to stand still. The world fell silent, all noise erased. Only Lucas and his sword remained. His right eye shifted from blue to yellow as the aura grew to a dazzling intensity.
He whispered his final words:
"Compassion in the darkness, cruelty in the light… Meaninglessness in the neutral."
The aura exploded. Lucas shone like the sun. A path of blue and yellow lines cut through the creature's skull.
"Here you are… The True Path of the Ancient Warrior!"
And then, like lightning splitting the night, the light engulfed everything.
...
For the blink of an eye, the creature looked around. Its blank gaze darted across the darkened space; then, bowing its head, it turned back to its own body. Then it realized—its entire body, starting with its chest, was slowly turning to ash and flying into the air. First its tentacles, then its massive arms, then its bones, hidden beneath the rotting flesh… They all disintegrated one by one.
".."
It didn't scream. It was as if it had given up resistance even at the last moment. Only silence, only exhaustion.
Lucas's eyes were glazed over. He didn't even want to look at the creature in that moment; for what he saw wasn't just a monster, but a tomb containing the screams of countless innocents. Its lips trembled. It parted, fell silent. Then opened again. Finally, it spoke in a low voice:
"…I hope you rest in peace."
Its words were like a prayer whispered into the void.
But the scene that remained was far from peaceful. There were still pools of steaming blood around, a suffocating stench rising from dismembered bodies, and a gloom that darkened even the sky. The carnage was so immense that it weighed down on every living soul like an invisible burden.
Lucas slowly lowered his sword. His fingers trembled as he released the hilt. The anger he had harbored had not faded, but it had been replaced by a grief laced with heavy fatigue.
As the massive creature's body, reduced to ashes, was cast into the night, only silence remained.
A silence... and a shadow of carnage, heavy as a tombstone, that would echo in memories.
Lucas took a deep breath. He slowly sheathed his sword, his eyes still fixed on the scattered ashes. Every particle lost in the sky echoed ominously in his mind. But then his gaze fell to someone lying motionless on the ground.
On the ground, filled with the smell of dust and blood, lay a young body: Ryu. Dumped like a burden in the midst of the fighting, his face pale, as if he were sleeping silently.
A different gleam appeared in Lucas's eyes. He took a slow step, sinking to the ground. His fingers grasped the collar of his worn blue coat and slowly removed it. He carefully draped the battered but still intact coat over Ryu, as if to protect him not from the cold but from all the gloom of the world.
Then he gently lifted Ryu into his arms. When he heard his breathing, a trace of relief he had suppressed for years escaped his lips.
"…At least you're alive."
His voice was cracked and tired, but a deep gratitude lay hidden within.
At that moment, footsteps echoed in the distance. The chaos was followed by belated sirens, the frantic roar of the crowd, the shouts of the police… And immediately, doctors in white coats rushed onto the stage.
Under the spotlight, amidst the bloody rubble and smoke, they began collecting the bodies and tending to the injured.
…
White.
A void stretching into infinity, as far as the eye could see. There was no sky, no ground… It was as if there was nothing, only the purest form of existence. In the center of that boundless void stood a woman. Her long black hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall. Two prominent, curved horns stood out in her hair, and the bangs that hung over her forehead were dyed a poisonous green. Tall, regal, and menacing, she looked like a queen of shadows, dressed in the deepest shade of black.
The woman tilted her head. A sigh escaped her thin lips.
"Ah… I wish I could play a little more."
Her voice floated in this whiteness with an echo that was both sweet and suffocating. It was as if she were speaking to herself, yet simultaneously addressing every corner of the universe.
After a moment, a sly smile appeared on her lips.
"Well, there's nothing to be done. After all…"
The woman's yellow eyes gleamed with a mysterious fire. In that moment, it felt as if the entire white void could vanish in a single glance.
"…there will be much more fun things in the future."
There was silence for a while. Then she lifted her head slightly, and a mixture of hunger and impatience and anticipation shone in her eyes.
"I can't wait for you…" she said, her voice oscillating between a whisper and a force.
And her lips cried out a single name, becoming an echo that shook the heavens in this white void:
"Ryu Starfall."