The skies above Kasian burned crimson.Ash rained from the heavens as the earth itself split apart, spewing fire and shadow. From the rift clawed something ancient, something terrible horns like black spires, wings torn and jagged, eyes molten with hatred.
The Abyssal Lord, Margok, had awakened.
Villages crumbled beneath his stride. Spirits screamed in torment. Thousands of hunters—men and women who had spent their entire lives training with divine steel and sacred oaths—stood frozen in terror. None dared step forward. None except one.
A lone figure emerged from the smoke. Cloaked in midnight blue, spear gleaming with condensed spirit energy, his tall, lean form cut through the chaos like a blade through silk. His muscles rippled beneath his garments, perfectly sculpted as if the gods themselves had chiseled them into existence.
His name was David Darian.
"Margok!" His voice thundered across the battlefield. "Your reign of terror ends tonight. Face me, if you dare!"
The great demon lord bellowed, laughter shaking the mountains. "One man dares oppose me? Then one man shall die!"
Margok's claw descended like a falling star, gouging the land into a crater. Dust billowed. Hunters gasped. Surely no human could withstand such might.
But when the smoke cleared, there he stood.David.Unscathed.Abs glistening.
"I dodged it," he said simply, adjusting his cloak with a flourish.
Margok howled in fury, striking again and again, each blow like a natural disaster. But somehow, impossibly, David slipped past them all. Ducking here, rolling there, striking back with swift counters that made the hunters watching rub their eyes in disbelief. His spear found impossible gaps in the Abyssal Lord's armor, each strike shining brighter than the last.
Finally, as the skies themselves cracked under Margok's roar, David leapt high into the air—higher than any man had before and hurled his spear with such divine force that it pierced straight into the demon's chest.
Margok shrieked, his colossal form collapsing back into the abyss. The crimson sky shattered, replaced by clear moonlight. Silence followed… then cheers erupted.
Kasian was saved.The Crimson Night was ended.And David Darian, tall, lean, and unreasonably handsome, had become a legend.
"…And that," David said, leaning back in his chair, "is how I single-handedly defeated the Abyssal Lord Margok."
Little Jop sat wide-eyed at the foot of the bed, clutching his blanket. "Whoa… so you're really the strongest hunter ever, Dad?"
David grinned, flexing an arm. "Tall, lean, handsome with perfect abs. Don't forget that part."
"Ew!" Jop made a face.
David laughed, ruffling his hair. "One day, son, you'll grow into it. Just remember when your time comes, all you have to do is live. The rest will take care of itself."
David chuckled, ruffling his son's hair.
"Dad," Jop said quietly, tugging at his sleeve, "when are you gonna teach me the secret technique? You promised."
David raised an eyebrow. "The secret technique, huh?"
"Yeah." Jop hugged his knees nervously. "'Cause… I'm actually really scared of ghosts. And demons. And… okay, pretty much everything. So if you don't teach me soon, I'll just suck at this forever."
David pretended to think, stroking his chin. "Today, then."
Jop's eyes lit up. "R-really?"
David slowly raised his hand, like a sage about to reveal forbidden knowledge. "Yes. Today… you will learn the foundation of the greatest technique passed down through generations of Darians."
Jop leaned forward, trembling with excitement. "What is it? Tell me!"
David held the pose for maximum dramatic effect. "First…" he declared solemnly, "you must fetch your master… a cup of tea."
"…What?"
"Warm. With honey. Maybe a hint of ginger if your mother has some in the kitchen."
Jop stared at him, slack-jawed. "That's not training, Dad!"
"Ah, but it is. Discipline begins with service, my son."
"Discipline begins with.....you just want tea!"
David smirked and waved his hand. "Go on then. We'll continue once you bring it."
Jop sighed, dragging himself toward the door. "Fine… but when I come back, you'd better actually teach me the technique-..."
He turned, only to find the chair empty. His father was gone.
"...Again," Jop muttered under his breath.
"Dad?" Jop called into the empty room. His father's chair still rocked gently, but David was nowhere to be found. On the table, however, sat a folded scrap of paper.
Jop frowned, picking it up. His father's bold, careless handwriting sprawled across it:
"When your time comes, son… just live."
Jop stared at the words, not fully understanding. His little hands gripped the note tighter, as if it were the last puzzle piece to the secret technique he longed for.
------
Years later.
The paper had yellowed with age, creased and worn from being unfolded too many times. i stood older now, taller, shoulders heavier, my dark suit stiff against my skin. Before me loomed the mural of my father, David Darian the man immortalized as Kasian's greatest Spirit Hunter.
The note rested in my pocket.The memory weighed on my chest.And the reality?
David Darian my father was dead.
I remember a lot about my father. Every boast, every ridiculous lesson, every story of him single-handedly defeating demons the size of mountains.
But he was still a mystery to me. Always calm, always confident, always leaving me one step behind, chasing his shadow.
Now, standing here, the world turned crimson. The wind howled like it carried the cries of a thousand lost souls. Dust and debris whipped around me, stinging my face, bending trees like twigs. I could feel the weight of every life depending on this moment every soul my father once protected.
I reached for my spear, fingers brushing the familiar grip. The spirit energy humming faintly through it felt like a pulse of my own heartbeat.
I couldn't believe I had made it this far alive. Every scrape, every near-death, every ridiculous bluff and lucky escape had led me here. And somehow, it had worked.
Then I saw it.
A massive shadow loomed over the battlefield, claws scraping the cracked earth, eyes burning like molten rock. A monster born of nightmare and shadow, bigger than anything I'd ever faced.
I swallowed, trying to steady my breath.
"So… this is how you did it, huh, Dad?" I muttered.
The wind tore at my cloak. My grip tightened on the spear. My heart thundered not with the thrill of the fight but with utter fear and yet..
The monster roared.
And I stepped forward to face it.