The world was in the midst of destruction, all caused by the brutal war between humans and demons.
Wars had always happened, but never before had they taken so many lives.
This time was different — soldiers once thought loyal to the kingdom had betrayed their oaths, siding with the Demon King. They did it all for the promise of power and wealth.
Lucan was a young knight, twenty-two years old, with dark hair and broad shoulders.
He was born without a Mana Core, and because of that, the entire kingdom called him The Failure.
Lucan didn't mind the name — as long as he had his close friend beside him: Leon.
But their friendship didn't last. Leon, too, had betrayed the kingdom.
Now, two men stood in the middle of the battlefield, their gazes locked in anger.
The cries of dying soldiers echoed across the field, yet neither of them paid any attention to the chaos around them.
They were Lucan and Leon.
"Why… why did you betray us?!"
Lucan's voice thundered, his left hand clenched tightly while his right gripped his sword.
Rage burned in his chest, searing through his lungs and choking his breath.
He could feel his blood boiling, heat surging through every vein.
Leon narrowed his eyes.
"Why did I betray you?" he repeated, then laughed. "Of course—for power. I can have anything I desire if I stand with the demons."
Lucan's fury flared hotter, but he forced a deep breath before speaking again.
"So you'll just leave me behind? After everything we've been through? After every battle we survived together?"
Leon's gaze softened. He looked down, avoiding Lucan's eyes.
"I…"
Lucan's eyes lit up, a faint spark of hope flickering within them.
He took a slow step forward until only a few inches separated them—then he pulled Leon into a tight embrace.
"Come back… I've already forgiven you," Lucan whispered near his ear.
But then… a strange warmth spread through Lucan's body.
It seeped into his back—hot, sharp, and wet.
His eyes widened as blood trickled from his lips.
When he looked down, a cold iron blade had pierced straight through his chest.
"Leon… you…"
With a blank face, Leon kicked Lucan in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
Leon smiled faintly.
"Come back? Everything we shared was a lie. I never once saw you as a friend."
Leon's words cut deeper than the blade.
Lucan's chest tightened, his vision blurred. He couldn't believe the person who had always been by his side… had never once considered him a friend.
"Then why… why did you stay with me when I needed help?" Lucan gasped.
Leon smirked cruelly, stepped closer, and grabbed a fistful of Lucan's hair.
"Because I wanted you to die miserably—to know that no one in this world would ever stand up for a failure like you."
His words were sharper than any sword, stabbing straight into Lucan's heart.
Tears streamed down Lucan's cheeks as more blood poured from his chest.
His body grew cold, his vision faded, and the sounds of battle vanished.
Only silence remained… until he could no longer open his eyes.
"I wish… I could start over. I wish I could stop this war. But… time can never be turned back."
Lucan's final thought echoed within his fading mind before darkness consumed him.
Yet—something miraculous happened.
He could still feel his fingers.
He could hear again.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. At first, his vision was blurry, but after a moment, everything became clear.
Above him was a wooden ceiling he knew all too well.
Looking around, he saw a small desk with books piled on it, and warmth filled the air.
His gaze shifted toward the window.
Lucan rose from the soft bed and opened the window gently.
His eyes widened.
Outside was the same village that had burned to ashes ten years ago—now alive and peaceful again, just as it had been when he was a child.
"This… this can't be real…"
He quickly rushed to the drawer beside his desk and pulled out a small mirror.
When he looked into it, his breath caught—his reflection was that of a ten-year-old boy.
"I… I'm back? But how? This should be twelve years ago…"
Confused, Lucan froze as he heard footsteps approaching from behind the door.
His heart pounded as the handle turned.
Then, the door creaked open.
A woman stood there, brown-haired, with a warm, gentle smile.
The world seemed to stop the moment Lucan saw her.
"Mother…" His voice trembled as he stepped closer.
"What's wrong, dear? You look pale," she said softly.
Lucan couldn't hear anything else—only his heartbeat, only her voice.
He rushed forward and hugged her tightly, tears streaming down his face.
"Mother… I missed you so much."
His voice shook, but the woman didn't question it.
She returned his embrace with a warm smile.
"Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?" she asked kindly.
Lucan shook his head slowly, his eyes red from tears.
"No… you didn't do anything wrong. I just… had a bad dream."
"A bad dream, huh? Alright then—calm yourself, and come down for breakfast after, okay?"
Lucan nodded faintly, watching as his mother walked down the stairs until she vanished from view.
"What… what is happening? It feels like… I've returned to twelve years ago…"