The Great Demon of Dissolution — Baal — stared in a daze at the world before it, a realm both familiar and strangely altered.
"Why does this world… feel so different?" it murmured.
Clip — Clop — Clip — Clop
A steady clatter of hooves cut through its thoughts, and as it tried to turn, a chilling realisation struck like a splash of ice water.
"Ah… I see. My head has been severed."
The demon had fallen. Evil was extinguished. Humanity… had won.
"Bah, what humanity?! What victory?!" Baal rasped in fury before muttering with bitter disdain, "Only a single human came to face me and my army; he is the only one whom this victory belongs to."
"Then perhaps next time," a voice interrupted, weak but steady enough to remain composed, "humanity will claim a true, unified victory."
A lone figure stepped forward, clad in a dark, battle-worn uniform that fused old military style with technological flair — a short jacket and tie beneath a long, teal-lined cape.
Armoured boots guarded his shins, and a black cap cast a shadow over his face where a fringe of black hair partially veiled his features, while his striking teal eyes fixed on the disintegrating demon.
The demon let out a raspy mock. "I must commend you, mortal," it praised — or so it seemed — adding, "You were a rat, and now you look like a gutter rat."
Standing before the severed head of the great demon was one of humanity's finest soldiers — Field Marshal Ferdinand.
Though blood and grime streaked his face, which looked fairly young, around his mid-thirties, perhaps, they could not dim the steady composure he bore or the piercing teal gaze that sliced through the drifting smoke.
A sword hung at his hip, while a long spear with a faint turquoise glow rested across his back.
In his hands, he gripped a finely engineered black musket with teal accents, its design perfectly matching the sharp, military elegance of his attire.
Though he stood at a solid 182 centimetres, even his fairly tall silhouette seemed dwarfed beside the massive head of the fallen demon.
"Neigh"
Ferdinand glanced to his side, where a vigorous black stallion let out small, trembling breaths and whimpering 'neighs' as tears rolled down its eyes.
Drip — Drop
Though it wasn't immediately apparent, beneath the black attire Ferdinand wore, he had been bleeding for a prolonged time, barely standing, only driven by sheer stubbornness to finish off the demon.
Knowing his time was coming to an end, Ferdinand levelled the dark barrel at Baal and said, "Adiós, hasta nunca."
Bang
The musket's blast caused a hole to be punched through Baal's head as its eyes finally lost their shine, and it was finally put to rest.
"Catastros"
Calling upon the stallion, Ferdinand unbuckled his tunic and the straps holding his armour, easing a fraction of the weight from his shoulders.
Yet he wasn't finished — he quickly used the belts and straps to secure his weapons onto the stallion's back, along with a blood-written declaration of victory, before saying, "Go back to the Capital."
"Neigh."
An indignant whinny escaped the stallion, clearly reluctant, but under Ferdinand's gentle reprimand and firm command, it had no choice but to comply.
"Now, don't be sad. Go back and find yourself a fine mare — or perhaps several, since you're the greatest stallion out there; I'm sure many would flock to you," Ferdinand joked lightly, covering his mouth as he spat out a mouthful of blood.
He turned his blood-soaked hands towards where Catastros was, saying, "See, I'm at the end of my rope. I can feel death closing in."
"Neigh."
Catastros let out another soft whimper as Ferdinand reached out, his hands gliding over the stallion to guide himself toward its ear, before whispering helplessly, "I… I can not even see your face now."
Saying that, his knees gave way as he murmured, "I cannot ride you with legs that have lost all their strength. Go now — let your arrival at the Capital be the message that the demon has been put to rest."
"And…" Ferdinand whispered weakly and wistfully, "I hope those two are spared any unnecessary hardships."
"Neigh."
Reluctantly, the stallion thudded away, turning its back to its master, its coat gleaming in the fading sunlight, while Ferdinand collapsed to the ground, eyes lifted to the stars.
'Are my duties finally over?' he wondered — but a sudden, ominous sensation made him turn his head toward the source of the foreboding presence.
"Still alive, huh?"
Ferdinand felt his eyes widen. "H—How?"
"Oh, don't give me that look, you sewage rat. What did you think? That you could so easily rid the world of someone who wields the power of dissolution?"
The voice belonged to Baal. Yet… 'How is he alive?' Ferdinand thought in sheer disbelief as Baal continued.
"I must say, you were impressive — able to fight against dissolution itself, even without the superpowers that those two younglings you tried so desperately to protect possess," Baal mocked.
"How did you know about them?" Ferdinand asked, bewildered.
"I possess what one might call a form of false divinity, insolent mortal," Baal said arrogantly. "Though it is not true divinity, it grants me small glimpses of omniscience."
"You…" Baal whispered, a hint of begrudging awe in its voice. "You do not seem bound to any great fate, yet you were able to fight me — even defeat my mortal shell."
"Regardless, my mortal shell carries the essence of dissolution itself," Baal explained, a sneer threading his words. "Which means it will now become a source of rot, spreading destruction."
"In the years to come," Baal whispered, his promise chilling, "many of my kind will rise. My death… is but a small sacrifice, after all."
"Hahaha! I am truly delighted." He laughed with mocking cruelty. "I have eliminated such a capable rat like you."
In a final, triumphant tone, Baal addressed Ferdinand, mocking him. "Hmm… what was it you said to me a while ago? Ah, yes…"
"…Adiós, Field Marshal Ferdinand."
With that, the oppressive presence seemed to vanish, only to be replaced by an even fiercer aura as Ferdinand crawled toward it.
Despite his loss of sight and relying barely on his fading senses, he pressed forward. "I cannot let this battle end in such a tragic way," he muttered.
"I had never feared my own death," Ferdinand gritted his teeth, pressing forward, determined not to let his true fears come true. "I only feared dying without leaving anything of value for those who pray for a better future behind the walls."
Crawling, slithering like a reptile, Ferdinand reached the demon's corpse. Remembering something, he quickly rifled through its clothing until he found it.
"I'm glad military training and expeditions always reminded me to carry this," he whispered weakly, handling the object. A faint psst sounded as it sprayed something over him — the unmistakable stench of butane.
The item in his hand was a lighter. Crawling toward Baal's corpse, Ferdinand prepared this final act of defiance.
Holding the lighter close, he lifted his other hand to remove his hat, murmuring, "O world, my final salutations to you."
Click.
The small spark from the flint ignited a massive blaze. Ferdinand's clothing caught fire, yet he felt nothing — he was already dead.
***
A world engulfed in perpetual chaos orbited as the third planet from its sun — Solaris III.
Ravaged by a global catastrophe known as The Lament, the very laws of fundamental physics seemed to bend, sometimes disappearing entirely.
It was a realm where monsters roamed freely, and catastrophe was as ordinary as any other Tuesday. Such was this world of Solaris III.
Somewhere near the outskirts of one of the three great nations — the New Federation, a pioneer of cutting-edge technology — in a dilapidated house, a bedridden boy no more than four years old stirred.
His face wrapped in bandages, he opened his eyes, wincing against a dizzying pulse of pain.
"Argh!" An audible grunt escaped the boy's lips as he looked around. Though he could make out a few objects, his vision was blurry, and he struggled to focus.
'What happened? How am I alive?' he wondered as his vision gradually sharpened. He took in the unfamiliar interior of a dilapidated house. 'Where am I?'
Clang.
The sudden clatter of metal made him snap his head toward the sound, only to yelp as a sharp sting shot through him. But the pain was nothing compared to his bewilderment — he could sense anyone entering the room.
That initial shock, however, was only the beginning. The real jolt came when he felt someone wrap their arms around him, their small hiccups whispering his name: "Kurian."
The boy — or rather Ferdinand, now called Kurian — murmured, "Who?"
To be continued...
***
A/N: So, this is my first time writing here. I have some ideas about what I want to write, but I'm not entirely sure about the execution. I'll do my best.
I just started playing a few months ago and only recently caught up, so I'm giving this a try. Please don't be too harsh on me.
I'm planning for each chapter to be around 1,200–1,500 words, and I hope the readers who come across it will enjoy this fanfic.
I've also added a romance tag and am thinking of making a female rover the main lead. Why? Well… I think she's hot and is a total cutie.
I'm also working on some art for the OC, and here's a picture of Ferdinand. Note: I've just lightly edited an original image of a certain character from a gacha game. If you recognise them, consider us friends (pic here).