Sage barely had time to react before the storm swallowed him whole. The magic raged like a hurricane, blinding and deafening, the sheer force pressing against his body. He squinted, shielding his eyes as he staggered forward
"Yona!" he called out, his voice barely cutting through the howling winds.
Damn it, why did I agree to this? I only just awakened my blessing!
He pushed forward, forcing each step through the relentless storm. Then, suddenly, his breath hitched. Through the swirling chaos, he spotted Yona on his knees, unmoving.
"Yona!" Sage rushed to his side, dropping to a crouch. His eyes widened in alarm. Yona's body trembled, skin unnaturally pale, his breaths coming in ragged, shallow gasps.
Mana Exhaustion.
(When a person uses a large quantity of mana at once or uses up all of it.)
The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. Yona's body had absorbed more mana than it could handle, and now it was shutting down.
But why don't I have it? Sage thought, a cold knot of confusion forming in his stomach. He had only just awakened his blessing. Was that why I wasn't affected the same way?
His hand instinctively reached for Yona's shoulder. The moment their skin made contact, a chilling darkness surged through him.
The air turned thick. Heavy. Cold.
Again… It's happening again.
A suffocating void wrapped around him like a shroud, pulling him into its depths. He knew this sensation all too well; it's becoming more frequent, as if something was trying to reach him through these visions. Is it the mana storm triggering them?
He forced himself to stay calm, but his body felt heavier, the weight of the storm pressing into him. Then, out of the corner of his eye, something shifted. A crack splintered through the air like fractured glass.
Sage hesitated, then reached out. The moment his fingers brushed the crack, reality shattered.
The storm vanished.
In its place was something far more horrifying.
Corpses littered the ground. Broken blades lay scattered amongst the bodies. The earth was soaked in blood, the echoes of a long-finished battle lingering in the air.
Sage's breath caught in his throat.
Where… am I?
His gaze traveled across the battlefield, landing on a group of figures standing over a fallen body. The man on the ground was barely alive, his body riddled with arrows and swords, demonic horns protruding from his shoulders and back.
A Demon.
Sage's heart pounded. He didn't recognize this memory, was it even his? His blessing was supposed to reveal the past, but this… this felt foreign.
He crept closer, drawn to the scene unfolding before him.
There were five people: two middle-aged men, a young adult, and two women. They looked almost familiar–portraits I've seen in books, almost like the statues in Athos Royal Capital.
(Athos Royal Capital stands as one of the oldest and most storied kingdoms in the Grail Realm, a city built on the legacy of heroes and conquest. Its towering spires and vast districts reflect past glory, where legends were born and great wars were decided, including the slaying of the Demon Lord Azrael.)
One of the men, clad in heavy armor, scowled down at the demon.
"Curse you… all," the demon spat, his deep, guttural voice filled with venom.
"You're the curse here, monster," the armored man growled, raising his greatsword high. "A scourge that took millions of lives."
The young man beside him took a step forward. "Wait, Huran-"
The swordsman, Huran, hesitated but didn't lower his blade. "What is it, Yopi?" he asked, irritation lacing his tone.
Yopi sheathed his silver sword. "We should keep him alive."
Before he could finish, a sharp voice cut through the tense air.
"Don't be a fool," the archer, Diana, snapped.
"She's right," added an older man, Valek, his tone firm. "Nothing good comes from sparing that thing."
The final member of their group, a hooded girl remained silent, staying close behind them as if trying to disappear.
Sage watched them, his mind racing. "Who's memory is this? What could possibly cause my blessing to vision this?"
So… the one in the bulky armor is Huran. Yopi, the hesitant one, wears lighter gear. Diana must be the archer. Then there's Valek… a veteran warrior, maybe? And the last girl who is she?
He didn't understand what he was witnessing, but something about this moment made this memory feel important. He had to know more.
Yopi clenched his fists, his voice tight with frustration. "But "
Before he could finish, the demon let out a ragged breath, his body trembling as he forced himself upright. The air around him grew heavy, suffocating, his presence alone sending an unnatural chill through the battlefield. The heroes immediately fell into a defensive stance, weapons raised, eyes filled with alarm.
"Do you feel pity for me?" the demon spat, his voice a guttural growl laced with venom. His blood dripped onto the scorched earth, thick and black like tar. He staggered, coughing violently before wrenching the swords and arrows from his body in a gruesome display. The sickening sound of metal tearing through flesh filled the silence. He barely flinched.
"Do Heroes feel Fear?" he continued, his voice booming with contempt as his gaze bore down on them. "Are you afraid?"
The words hung in the air like an ominous omen, and a wave of unease rippled through the group of heroes. For a fleeting moment, they were silent. The tension between them thickened, each of them staring at the demon, but none daring to respond. Their hands gripped their weapons tighter, but even they could feel it now: the suffocating pressure in the air, the oppressive weight of something wrong. Something dangerous.
A sharp crack rang out as a jagged piece of his horn snapped off and hit the ground. His chest heaved, but instead of weakening, the demon seemed to grow stronger. His blood eyes burned with raw fury, and the ground beneath him trembled as an unnatural energy surged around him. The unease in the heroes' hearts turned into dread. They could feel it now the unstoppable force of his wrath building, the terrible power rising like a storm.
"It doesn't matter," the demon sneered, his voice now deepening with a chilling finality. "Because I am a LORD– AND I REFUSE TO LOSE!"
A deafening explosion of mana erupted from him like a detonation of pure power. The force was cataclysmic. The sky itself seemed to crack open as a blinding light surged outwards, rippling through the air and consuming everything in its path.
"GET BACK!" someone shouted, their voice laced with panic, but it was already too late.
The shockwave hit like a tidal wave, sending the heroes flying. The ground beneath them splintered and cracked open as the battlefield was reduced to nothing but a crater, devoured by the explosive surge of power.
Sage barely had time to react before the force slammed into him with a crushing intensity. A scream tore from his throat as he was hurled backward, his body weightless against the sheer power of the blast. His vision blurred, shattering, warping before an agonizing crack split through his very soul.
The void around him fractured like glass, reality itself crumbling.
"Ack–!" Sage gasped, rolling across an unseen surface, his limbs trembling as he fought to steady himself. He braced for impact, expecting to crash into solid ground but there was none.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
The battlefield was gone.
Everything had changed.
And as he caught his breath, his senses still spinning, Sage realized with chilling certainty he had just been thrown into another vision.
"Agh– what now?" Sage forced himself upright as a sharp wave of dizziness threatened to pull him back down. "I can't even get a breather…" He steadied his stance, and quickly scanned his surroundings.
Sage found himself in a dimly lit chamber, the air thick with dust and the scent of aged parchment. The flickering glow of torches barely pushed back the darkness, casting jagged shadows that danced across the stone walls. The weight of something unseen pressed down on him a lingering sorrow that clung to the room like a specter.
Unnoticed, he stood in the corner, watching as the scene unfolded before him.
At a worn wooden table, a younger version of the demon sat hunched over a mountain of scrolls and ancient tomes, his fingers trembling as he turned each brittle page. His horns were smaller, his eyes not yet ablaze with the fury Sage had seen before. Instead, they held something far more haunting doubt. A quiet desperation.
Across from him sat an older demon, his face lined with time and wisdom. His gaze, heavy with sorrow, studied the boy with the patience of someone who had already seen too much.
"Why do you bury yourself in these old texts, my son?" The elder's voice was low, gentle, yet burdened.
The young demon lifted his head, frustration flashing in his golden irises. "Because I need answers, Father! Our people suffer while the humans–" He gritted his teeth, his claws digging into the wooden surface. "They call us monsters. They hunt us like beasts."
The elder demon sighed, the weight of centuries filling his exhale. "The world has always feared what it refuses to understand. Rage and power will not change that."
"Then what will happen?" The young demon's voice cracked, his composure slipping into something raw, something desperate. "What can I do? Sit back and watch as they drive us to extinction?"
Silence. Heavy and suffocating.
Sage felt it pressing against his chest, the unbearable tension of a question without an answer.
The older demon finally leaned forward, his expression unreadable. "The cycle of hatred is a curse that feeds itself. If you answer violence with violence… you will only prove them right."
The young demon's hands trembled, his breath uneven. He looked down at the open book before him, his reflection caught in the ink-stained pages. A reflection of someone still searching, still hoping.
Sage felt something stir inside him. This demon, this so-called monster had once been just a boy searching for another way. He had wanted to break free from the bloodshed, to find a path that didn't lead to ruin.
But something had changed him. Something had twisted that hope into hatred.
The chamber began to distort, its edges warping as reality pulled Sage back. But his eyes remained locked on the young demon's face.
"Don't lose yourself you'll get careless," the elder whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "No matter what happens… remember who you are or face death with uncertainty."
Then, the vision shattered. With a few moments Sage thought to himself, Is that what you really wanted?...Why fall in the path of destruction?
Darkness consumed Sage, its suffocating grip pressing down on him like an unseen force. The weight of the vision still lingered, his mind reeling from the truth he had just witnessed. Then, just as suddenly, the void shifted.
A field of flowers stretched endlessly before him, their colors vivid yet dreamlike, as if painted by a divine hand. The air was warm, filled with the gentle hum of nature untouched by war or sorrow.
Then, tap tap tap.
Sage turned just in time to see the demon no, a younger version of him racing forward, his steps filled with urgency. Confused, Sage spun around to follow his path. That's when he saw her.
A demoness stood among the flowers, her short horns framing a face so radiant it seemed otherworldly. Her presence was like a whispered prayer, a quiet yet profound blessing that stirred something deep within Sage's chest.
She's… beautiful…
Before Sage could even process his own thoughts, the demon passed straight through him, unfazed, as if he were nothing more than a ghost. Without hesitation, he embraced the demoness, his arms wrapping around her with a desperation that spoke of longing, of relief.
Sage's breath hitched when his gaze drifted downward. A small child clung to the demoness's leg, peering up at the man with wide, innocent eyes.
A kid? No, seriously whose memory is this? And that demon… who are they? Could it be the last wielder of this blessing?
But before he could take in more, before he could even begin to understand
The vision cracked.
A force yanked him backward, the field of flowers dissolving into nothingness as he was once again swallowed by the abyss.
Sage clutched his chest, his breath ragged. "Damn… why does my body hurt– no, my soul feels like it's being dragged across a bed of thorns." The pain wasn't just physical; it gnawed at something deeper, something he couldn't touch but could feel with every fiber of his being. Is this the price of my blessing? Whatever it was, he prayed it would end soon.
But fate was merciless.
The darkness twisted once more, birthing another vision before his weary eyes. At first, he recognized the tranquil flower field from before. But the serenity was gone. His heart plummeted as the once-vibrant meadow was reduced to an inferno of flames and ashes. The scent of burning petals mixed with the acrid stench of destruction.
Sage took a step forward, but a sharp whistle sliced through the air. Instinct took over, and he barely moved in time, the arrow missing him by mere inches. His eyes snapped to its trajectory, following it only for his breath to hitch in horror.
The arrow had struck her.
The demoness, the vision of grace and warmth from before, staggered as blood bloomed from the wound. Sage's eyes widened in disbelief, his body frozen.
Behind him, chaos erupted.
The clashing steel of the blades, and furious roars from the once proud demon now calls of desperate cries.
Sage spun around to see the demon his earlier self fighting like a beast possessed, shoving through the knights in a mad scramble toward her. But they were relentless. More knights descended upon him, overwhelming him, forcing him to the ground. He thrashed, roared in defiance, but it was futile. One of them reached down and
Crack.
All his horns were torn from his shoulders and back.
A guttural scream ripped from his throat, a sound so raw that even Sage felt it carve into his own soul. He stood there, paralyzed, watching the scene unfold like a nightmare he could not wake from.
The demoness and the child were dragged forward and thrown before him like discarded rags. The woman gasped, struggling to lift herself. Her eyes, pained yet unwavering, locked onto the demon.
"Please," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "Take me instead… just spare my child."
Cruel, mocking laughter from the knights, as if her words were the funniest thing they'd ever heard.
Sage clenched his fists. "You bastards–" He lunged for them, only for his hands to pass right through. Reality slapped him in the face he wasn't really here. He couldn't stop it.
His rage curdled into helplessness.
"Sorr–" The demoness barely had time to speak before a knight seized her by the hair, yanking her head back.
The sword flashed. Her head tumbled to the dirt.
For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then, the demon's scream shattered the air.
Sage could feel his grief, a storm of agony and fury so fierce it suffocated everything else. The knights tossed her severed head near his face, reveling in their cruelty. The demon's body trembled, his muscles tensed like a caged animal about to break free.
"I'LL KILL YOU ALL!"
But just as he surged forward, his gaze landed on his child, small, fragile, and now trapped in the hands of a knight.
The world seemed to stop.
"What was that, demon?" the knight sneered.
And then the sword plunged into the child's chest.
Something inside the demon snapped.
Sage felt it no, he knew it. In that moment, something irreparable broke within him.
The demon whispered, his voice hollow, empty.
"You were wrong, Father… Violence is the answer."
Then, he rose.
Five knights still held him down, but it no longer mattered. He tore through them like a beast unleashed, his claws rending flesh, his eyes glowing a shade of red so deep it mirrored the blood spilling around him.
There were no more screams.
He knelt at last, gathering what remained of his family in his arms. But there were no tears, only blood, trailing from his eyes like a cursed weeping.
Sage wanted to look away, but he couldn't.
He felt the weight of this sorrow, of this rage, of a soul drowning in vengeance.
And then, the void came for him once more, dragging him away before he could even take a breath.
Sage returned to the abyss, but it no longer felt empty. The weight of what he had seen pressed down on him, making the darkness feel heavier, almost suffocating. His hair glowed faintly, casting shifting shadows that barely reached his narrowed eyes. He clenched his fists, his silence speaking louder than words a quiet acknowledgment of the demon's suffering, of everything he had lost.
Then, the void cracked.
Sage's head tilted upward, watching the fractures spread across the emptiness. Another memory was forming, another step into the past. He exhaled, hardening his resolve. This was no longer just about tragedy. There was more to this story than pain.
Memories crashed over him like a relentless tide, each one dragging him deeper. He saw the demon's training, enduring the merciless flames of hell, surviving battles that should have claimed his life. His eyes once filled with desperation and grief burned now with something far more dangerous: a hunger for vengeance.
Determination twisted into obsession. Fear had left him long ago, replaced by ruthless ambition. He ascended the ranks without hesitation, carving his way through anyone who stood in his path. Decades passed, and with every victory, there was loss. Comrades fell, their deaths etched into his mind, their faces fading into ghosts of his past. With every loss, a piece of him withered, leaving behind only emptiness and rage.
He conquered land after land, his power growing until none could oppose him. Soon, he was crowned the King of the Hadas Realm, his rule unquestioned. But even with a throne beneath him, he found no peace. His army, bound by loyalty and fear, followed him as he turned his gaze downward toward the Grail Realm, the world that sat just beneath his own. Without hesitation, without remorse, the Hadas army descended like a storm.
For years, they ravaged the Grail Realm, not for conquest, not for strategy, but simply to enact the will of their king. It was war without reason, vengeance without an end. And as Sage watched, he understood. The demon's path had been one of both righteousness and ruin. He had fought against the cruelty of the world, only to become a reflection of it.
The memory reached its end, but not before Sage saw the demon's final moment. Defeated by the heroes of the kingdom, his body broken, his vengeance unfulfilled. Yet even in death, his words carried weight, a curse and a truth spoken in the heart of the enemy's capital:
"Follow righteousness, and you shall remain bound forever. Embrace darkness, and you will soon awaken to the truth."
With those final words, his death did not bring peace, it ignited chaos. The people, divided and shaken, turned against the royals. The kingdom was thrown into turmoil, allied nations using the instability to fuel their own ambitions. And thus, the Holy Grail War began.
As the vision faded, Sage found himself once more in the endless void. He stood there, breath heavy, mind reeling from all he had seen. A demon who sacrificed everything, only to be left with nothing. A war that should have ended, only to give birth to an even greater conflict.
Sage clenched his fists once more.
This was more than a story of loss. This was a warning.
Sage pushed himself up, brushing off his clothes with a tired sigh. "Alright, that's enough. Time to get out of here."
He lifted his arms and commanded, "Escape! Release! Out!" His voice echoed through the void, but nothing happened. The endless abyss remained unchanged. His expression twisted in frustration.
"Why can't I leave? I swear I've been in here for what, ten thousand years? I feel like a damn nocturnal animal at this point."
He crossed his arms, thinking back to the demon's memories. His fingers tapped against his chin. "Maybe… Sever?"
At his word, the void cracked and slowly unraveled from the top down. A breath of relief escaped his lips. Finally!
As the fever dream faded, reality surged back into focus. Sage found himself once more in the heart of the mana storm, Yona still unconscious. But something was different. The chaos that had once threatened to tear him apart now felt distant like a whisper of wind rather than an all-consuming force.
He took a slow breath. The air was thick with energy, yet it no longer overwhelmed him. The fear, the struggle gone. In their place, a quiet certainty settled deep in his bones. He had changed. He could feel it, though he couldn't yet name it.
Sage flexed his fingers, watching the storm swirl around him. "Oh, right," he muttered, glancing around. "I forgot I was still here." A pause. His voice was steady, unshaken. That, too, was new.
"How long has it been?" he mused, scanning the storm as if seeing it for the first time. "If it's still raging, it can't have been too long…"
Yet, time itself felt strange now like it had bent and shifted along with him.
Without hesitation, he delivered a sharp punch to Yona's chin.
"Ow! What the fuck?!" Yona jolted awake, clutching his cheek.
"You were unconscious," Sage stated bluntly. "It was because of… uh…" His thoughts trailed off as he tried to recall what had happened before he was trapped in the void for what felt like an eternity.
"You forgot?" Yona snapped, his voice laced with disbelief.
Before Sage could answer, the storm roared to life, a violent burst of mana energy sending them both flying backward.
"Shit–!" Yona barely managed to regain his footing, while Sage stood firm, completely unfazed.
Yona struggled to breathe, his body weighed down by the overwhelming force of the storm. But when he turned to look at Sage, he saw something that made his breath hitch.
Why… is he standing like that? Sage was completely unaffected, not even flinching.
Meanwhile, Sage's thoughts churned. This mana storm… it feels eerily similar to that demon's power…
"Sage!" Yona's voice cut through his thoughts.
Sage snapped his head toward him just in time to catch a glowing sphere Yona had thrown his way.
"You need to push that into the gemstone!"
Sage blinked. "Gemstone?"
Yona groaned in frustration. "Just do it!"
Without another word, Sage sprinted forward, weaving between the violent mana flares with effortless precision. Yona's eyes widened.
When the hell did he get that fast?
Sage neared the gemstone, but just as he was about to place the sphere inside, the storm surged with renewed intensity. The sudden force sent Yona flying out of the storm's grasp.
"Yona!" Sage called out, but he had no time to react. A powerful gust slammed into him, making every step forward feel like walking through a hurricane.
Damn it. I should've just shoved it in sooner!
Determined, he forced his arm through the violent aura surrounding the gemstone. The moment he did, his sleeve disintegrated, and deep cuts seared into his skin.
"Argh–!" He gritted his teeth, pushing forward despite the pain.
The sphere inched closer. Just as it was about to connect, an unseen force locked it in place, resisting him.
Then the storm, once a deafening roar became void of sound.
Sage barely had time to process it before a massive force yanked him forward.
"What the–?!"
Outside the storm, Yona crashed into a wooden wall with a harsh thud.
"Ugh–!" He groaned, struggling to push himself up.
"Yona!" A panicked voice called his name.
Meline Sage's mother rushed over, helping him up. Her eyes were wild with fear. "Are you okay, what happened?! Where's Sage?!"
Yona clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stand. He didn't want to say it.
Meline's hands gripped his shoulders. "Yona, where is he?!"
He swallowed, unable to meet her gaze. "He's… he's fine," he said, though his voice wavered. "Believe in him. If I got thrown out and he didn't… that must mean he's safe."
Meline's shoulders relaxed slightly, but the worry in her eyes remained.
Inside the storm, Sage was nowhere to be seen. Only a single red gemstone earring remained, slowly being reabsorbed into the fading storm.
As the winds finally died, Meline stepped forward, her breath hitching.
"Sage…?"
She dropped to her knees, trembling hands reaching for the earring.
"Yona…" her voice wavered, barely a whisper. "What… is this?"
Yona stared at the earring, his mind racing. His hands clenched into fists, but no words came.
Meline turned to him, eyes brimming with tears.
"Where's my son?!"
Yona's silence answered enough.
A choked sob tore from her throat as she collapsed, grief spilling from her in waves. Her tears dripped onto the wooden floor, soaking into the cracks.
Yona could do nothing but stand there, fists trembling.
Sage…
Sage falling and tumbling through the sky, the deafening wind ripping the air from his lungs. His stomach lurched as the world spun around him–an endless expanse of unfamiliar terrain stretching far below.
What the hell–?!
Panic seized his chest as gravity yanked him downward. The air was thick, pressing against his body like an invisible weight, making it harder to breathe.
Where am I?!
He didn't have time to figure that out. The ground was closing in fast. Too fast.
"I'm so screwed."
Desperation clawed at his mind as he flailed, searching for anything…anything to slow his descent. But there was nothing. Just empty sky and his impending doom.
CRASH!
Something massive slammed into him, sending a white-hot jolt of pain through his bones. His body twisted violently, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. He caught a blurred glimpse of emerald scales before everything became a chaotic whirlwind of agony.
"Ack–!"
The wind roared past him as he lost control– SPLASH!
Icy water engulfed him, swallowing him whole. The shock stole his breath, darkness creeping in as he sank into the abyss, washed ashore numb and cold
Sage stirred, his senses sluggish as he drifted between consciousness and oblivion. His fingers curled into the ground beneath him coarse, powdery but it wasn't sand… Ash
A ragged cough tore through him, fresh blood dripping from his lips. His ribs screamed in protest as he forced himself upright, each breath sharp and agonizing.
The sky was a dull gray, casting an eerie pall over the land. A rancid stench clung to the thick air that was putrid and suffocating.
Then he saw bones
Scattered across the ashen earth like remnants of a forgotten battlefield. Skulls, ribs, shattered limbs all twisted and broken, half-buried in the dust. The blackened water lapped quietly at the shore, its inky surface concealing whatever nightmares lurked beneath.
Sage's throat tightened. Where the hell am I?
The silence pressed against him, heavy and unnatural. This place wasn't just foreign it felt wrong.
Figures rose from the ground.
Sage's pulse pounded as the dust cleared, revealing what had been buried beneath. Kobolds. But not like any he had read about. Their bodies were skeletal, hollow eyes glowing with eerie malice. Rusted weapons clung to their decayed fingers, their movements unnatural, jerky yet filled with intent.
Sage let out a nervous chuckle, taking a slow step back. "Yeah… I should probably run."
Sage's lungs burned as he sprinted across the ashen ground, his ragged breaths lost beneath the guttural howls behind him. The undead kobolds moved too fast. Their bones clattered as they tore after him, their hunger palpable.
Ahead, a twisted forest loomed. Its gnarled trees stood lifeless, their brittle leaves whispering like hushed voices in the wind.
Where's Yona? Where's Mom?! Panic fueled his stride. I need to survive first then I'll figure it out.
Branches clawed at his arms as he wove through the skeletal trees, his strength fading. His ribs screamed, his muscles ached but the creatures behind him never slowed.
Up ahead was a cave, to Sage it looked like a safe spot
Sage gritted his teeth and pushed forward, lungs burning. Just as the kobolds closed in, he threw himself inside, darkness swallowing him whole.
Sage was given a moment to breathe
The growls lingered outside, low and guttural. Clawed feet scraped against the stone, pacing. Hunting.
Sage pressed his back against the damp wall. The pain in his ribs flared, his vision swimming.
"...Medicine," he muttered weakly. He needed to treat his injuries.
His head lolled back against the rock, exhaustion weighing him down.
"God… do I even know how to make that?" A weak chuckle escaped him. His hands trembled, but he clenched them into fists.
No. No giving up.
He exhaled sharply, forcing the doubt from his mind.
"I'll find a way back," he swore, voice barely above a whisper. "I swear on my name."