Morning came without warmth.The sky was pale gray, as if the sun itself hesitated to rise over the village.The streets were empty.Doors remained shut.Windows sealed.
Ash from last night's torches still clung to the stone paths.The ritual drums lay abandoned near the cliff trail, cracked and overturned.
No one spoke of what had happened.No one dared.
Even the wind moved carefully through the narrow streets.
Then
The distant sound of wooden wheels broke the silence.A horse cart rolled into the village square.The horse was dark, strong, well-kept.
The cart simple.Unthreatening.A traveler.
Or so it appeared.
The driver wore a long dark coat, hood slightly lowered over his face.He guided the horse calmly through the deserted street, golden eyes scanning everything.
The broken torches.The damaged rune stones.The faint lingering scent of crimson magic in the air.
He stopped near the village well.Removed his hood.And the morning light revealed his face.
Sharp jawline.
Controlled expression.Dark hair perfectly composed despite the long ride.
Handsome.Too handsome for a simple traveler.
His lips curved faintly.The Alpha Werewolf.
But not in beast form.Not even in warrior stance. In a Human form ...He seems Unrecognizable.
A child peeked from behind a half-closed window and gasped softly before disappearing again.
He noticed. Of course he did.
He stepped down from the cart gracefully, boots touching the stone without a sound.His gaze lifted toward the distant cliff path.The mountain where the seal had broken.
A faint silver pulse still lingered in the air.
He inhaled slowly.
"Yes," he murmured under his breath. "You were here."
Footsteps approached cautiously.
An old villager emerged from a doorway, clutching prayer beads.
"Who are you?" the man demanded weakly.
The Alpha turned toward him and smiled.
"A merchant," he replied smoothly. "Passing through."
His voice held no threat.Only charm.
"I heard there was… trouble last night."
The old man's face paled.
"You should leave," he whispered. "This village is cursed."
The Alpha tilted his head slightly.
"Cursed?" he repeated thoughtfully.
His golden eyes flickered faintly for just a second and Then softened again.
"I'm sure curses can be… managed."
He glanced around the empty streets once more.Fear clung to every doorway.Good.
Fear was easy to manipulate.
"The seal broke," the old man blurted suddenly, voice shaking. "The Monster King—"
Silence stretched between them. He stepped closer to the old man. Not threatening.Just… closer.
The old villager's breath grew uneven.
"You said the seal broke," the Alpha repeated softly.
The man nodded weakly.
"Yes… yes, he woke… the Monster King woke…"
The Alpha studied his face carefully.Wrinkled skin.Fading strength.But the same eyes.The same bloodline.
A faint smile curved his lips.
"You've grown old," he said quietly.
The old man froze.His fingers tightened around the prayer beads.
"…Do I know you?" he whispered.
The Alpha stepped fully into the morning light.
Golden eyes catching the pale sun.
"You should," he replied.
The old man's pupils trembled.Recognition dawned slowly. Impossible.
"No…" he breathed. "You died. A century ago—you—"
The Alpha's smile sharpened.
"I did not."
He leaned slightly closer.
"You forget, Grandfather," he said calmly, "our blood does not surrender to time so easily."
The old man staggered backward.
"You were sent north—"
"Yes," the Alpha interrupted gently. "Sent away to survive."
A pause.
"To wait."
Wind swept through the empty street.The Alpha's expression hardened slightly.
"You kept the ritual going."
The old man swallowed.
"We had to. After what you did… after the alliance… after the witch—"
The Alpha's jaw tightened briefly.But only for a second.
"I did what was necessary," he said smoothly.
"To protect balance."
The word echoed strangely between them.
The old man's voice trembled.
"He will destroy everything now."
The Alpha glanced toward the distant mountain.A faint crimson shimmer still lingered in the air.
"No," he corrected softly.
"He will try."
His golden eyes darkened slightly.
"And I will stop him."
The old man shook his head.
"You cannot defeat him again."
The Alpha's smile returned.
Confident.Unshaken.
"This time," he said quietly, "I don't intend to defeat him."
A flicker of silver energy brushed the air.He felt it again.
Her.
The old man noticed his expression change.
"You felt it too," the old man whispered.
"Yes," the Alpha replied.
His voice lowered.Almost amused.
"She finally appeared."
The old man's face drained of color.
"The fairy…"
The Alpha looked at him slowly.
"Careful," he warned lightly. "Walls have memories."
The wind stilled.
For a split second, something predatory flickered beneath his calm exterior.
"She changes everything," he murmured.
His eyes gleamed faint gold.
"And this time… I will not let the Monster King claim what belongs to my blood."
The old man's hands began to shake violently.
"You would start another war?"
The Alpha's smile faded completely.
"I never ended the first one."
He stepped back toward his cart.Composed again.
Elegant and Controlled.
"Prepare the village," he said casually. "Fear is useful."
The old man collapsed onto the stone bench behind him.The Alpha mounted the cart effortlessly.
As the wheels began to roll away
He looked once more toward the mountain.
Golden eyes burning softly.
"Welcome back, old friend," he whispered to the wind.
"Let us see who this world chooses now."
The cart disappeared down the empty road.
And the village remained trembling
Unaware that the true architect of the first betrayal had just returned.
That way it feels alive.
The villagers went to grandfather's house.
Grandfather's house was small.
Old wood.Low ceiling. The smell of dried herbs and burnt incense still hung in the air.
By midday, the villagers had gathered inside.
Men stood near the doorway.Women sat clutching children.
No one spoke loudly.Fear made voices smaller.
Grandfather sat in the center on a wooden chair, hands trembling slightly around his staff.The morning light barely entered through the half-covered windows.
"We cannot pretend anymore," he said finally.
A woman spoke first.
"Tell us the truth."
Another whispered, "Who is he really?"
Grandfather closed his eyes briefly.
"For a hundred years," he said slowly, "we called him Monster King."
He opened his eyes.
"But that was not his name."
The room stiffened.His voice dropped lower.
"His name was Kaelith Draven."
The name felt heavy in the room.
Old.Forbidden.
"He was not born a monster," Grandfather continued. "He was born a ruler."
A young man scoffed nervously. "A ruler does not slaughter kingdoms."
Grandfather's gaze sharpened.
"And yet… he did not begin that way."
Silence fell again.
"He united the monster clans," Grandfather said. "Ended their internal wars. Made treaties with humans. Even stood beside the first Alpha."
Several villagers gasped.
"Beside him?" someone whispered.
"Yes."
Grandfather's fingers tightened.
"They were allies once."
The room shifted uneasily.
"Then why—?" a woman began.
"Because power changes balance," Grandfather interrupted. "And balance is fragile."
He leaned forward slightly.
"The witch warned him long ago."
A child whimpered.
"What witch?" someone asked.
"The one who cursed him," Grandfather replied.
He lowered his voice further.
"She told him he would never die. That death would not take him."
Murmurs spread.
"So he became unstoppable?"
"No," Grandfather said grimly. "He became unkillable."
The difference hung in the air.
"He ruled too strongly. Too absolutely. The humans feared extinction. The werewolves feared submission."
"And so they betrayed him?" a villager whispered.
Grandfather nodded slowly.
"They could not kill him. So they sealed him."
"And the ritual?" someone asked.
"That was not to weaken him," Grandfather admitted quietly.
The room went silent.
"It was to suppress his awakening. Every hundred years, the offering renewed the witch's binding spell."
A woman gasped.
"So last night—"
"Yes," Grandfather said heavily.
"Last night the ritual failed."
A young boy spoke timidly.
"Why?"
Grandfather's eyes darkened.
"Because the girl was not human."
The entire room froze.
"The fairy," someone whispered.
Grandfather nodded slowly.
"She carries blood older than monsters and wolves."
Fear thickened.
"If the Monster King learns what she truly is…"
He stopped.The villagers leaned forward.
"What will happen?" one asked.
Grandfather looked toward the window. Toward the mountain barely visible in the distance.
"Then the war that began a century ago," he said quietly, "will finally end."
"And who will win?" a woman asked, voice trembling.
Grandfather's eyes hardened.
"No one."
Silence consumed the room.
Outside
A shadow moved past the window. Unseen.Listening.Golden eyes gleamed briefly before disappearing.