The flames danced with the howling wind, leaping from house to house. Lifeless bodies sprawled across the ground, crimson blood staining the village like a grotesque mural.

  The air crackled with the roar of fire and the searing gusts that threatened to strip skin from bone.

  In the midst of it all, a boy with black hair knelt in an open space where the heat dared not reach. His arms cradled the bodies of a yellow-haired boy and a black-haired girl, shielding them as though he could still protect them from the merciless blaze.

  His mind, however, betrayed him with images he wished to erase: a beautiful face yet a being who had slaughtered his loved once.

  His parents impaled upside down. His older brother’s head was torn from his shoulders. Neighbors devoured like meat.

  The boy’s lips trembled as he bit down until blood seeped through, his fists clenching with silent rage.

  Then came the sound of footsteps, heavy yet unnatural. He raised his eyes.

  A horse emerged through the haze, the man who rode it gleaming faintly with a golden aura, a spear resting casually against his shoulder.

  “Who did this?” the man asked, his voice edged with authority.

  The boy’s gaze hardened, sharp as a blade. “Demons.”

  The man chuckled, low and amused. “I see… How intriguing.” His eyes studied the boy’s glare.

  He stepped down from the horse, his boots pressing into the scorched earth as he came to stand before him.

  “And what,” he asked slowly, “are you going to do from here on?”

  The boy gritted his teeth with fury.

  “I cannot forget the face of the demon that killed my family.” His voice was raw, trembling with agony yet burning with anger.

  “His crimson-gold eyes… and his golden hair.” His brows drew together, his gaze brimming with unyielding resentment.

  “I-I will kill him,” he stammered, then roared with conviction,

  “I will definitely kill that monster!”

  The figure’s lips curved into a faint smile as he knelt before the boy, extending his hand.

  “If you truly wish to kill him, then come with me. I will train you myself.”

  The boy’s eyes widened, hesitation flickering across his face. His hand hovered uncertainly toward the outstretched one.

  “W-Who are you?! Am I… am I making a deal with a devil?”

  A soft laugh escaped the man, his tone calm but resolute.

  “No. What you’ve made today is a deal with a God.”

  Their hands met in a firm clasp. Without another word, the figure lifted the boy and the other two children, placing them gently on the horse.

  “What’s your name, little one?” he asked.

  “Alaric. And these two are Fin and Eleana.” His voice steadied, though his eyes never left the man before him. |

  There was something disarming about him, those striking golden eyes set against his dark hair.

  For the first time since the tragedy, Alaric felt a strange sense of safety. The storm inside his chest began to ease.

  “Who…are you, really, mister?”

  The man chuckled, shaking his head. “Calling me mister when I’m only fourteen is somehow hurts.” His smile softened.

  “I’m Leo. From this day forward, I’ll be your guardian. I’ll protect you until the day you’re strong enough to protect yourselves.”

  “I see.” The voice of an old man broke the silence, steady yet weighted with thought.

  His grey hair swayed with each measured movement as he held up a pawn and pressed it gently onto the chessboard.

  “So that’s why the plantation project Her Majesty built beside my land was destroyed so horribly. The attack… it feels as if it wasn’t done by human hands at all.”

  Leo gave a quiet nod, fingers brushing over the polished pieces before he moved the King forward, placing it before the Queen.

  Marquis Allen’s eyes widened at the move, surprise flashing across his face. He lifted his gaze to Leo, intrigue sharpening in his stare.

  “I believe the Cathedral is behind the attack on the plantations,” Leo said evenly.

  “And what do you intend to do about it?” Allen pressed without hesitation.

  Their eyes locked across the board, a silent clash of will. After a long moment, Leo exhaled a heavy sigh.

  “I’m not the one who decides what must be done, Marquis Allen.”

  The marquis shook his head slowly, his expression hardening, his voice lowering with weight.

  “I did not pose that question to a mere general, Leo. I asked the man blessed with the power of the Sun God himself.”

  Leo leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. A soft chuckle slipped from him, though his eyes gleamed with restrained sharpness.

  “Just as I said, the one who decides our course is the Queen. I only follow where her command leads.”

  The marquis closed his eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

  “I see.” When he opened them again, the softness was gone, replaced by a sharp glint of determination.

  “I have remained in the shadows because that was Her Majesty’s wish. But now… I believe the reason she summoned me is because the time has finally come to act.”

  In the northern part of Apocrypha, a thick column of smoke blanketed the land, so vast that even from the Duke’s territory, it was visible on the horizon. His eyes widened, alarm gripping him.

  Believing it to be an enemy attack, he swiftly mobilized his army and rode toward the source.

  As his horse came to a halt, the Duke’s black hair shifted with the wind. His face drained of color, sweat tracing down from beneath his mustache.

  “W-What…even is this?!” His voice trembled with fear.

  Before him sprawled a vision of ruin. Houses reduced to ashes. Watchtowers collapsed into smoldering heaps. Carriages blackened and broken. Even the vast plantation once brimming with promise lay shattered, as though life itself had been torn violently from the land.

  A soldier dismounted and came to his side, covering his nose against the stench of charred flesh and smoke.

  “Your Grace… this is where the Queen established her new plantation project not long ago. But… we still don’t know what happened here.”

  The Duke gave a grave nod, his brows knitting together.

  “You’re right. This… was not the work of a human. It reeks of something darker, far more terrible.”

  And then it came. From the very heart of the devastation, something stirred, something born of destruction. An overwhelming aura surged outward, swallowing the scorched land in its presence.

  The Duke pressed his lips into a hard line, his gaze narrowing as the weight of it pressed against him.

  This isn’t an ordinary presence… It's something awfully dark. The Duke’s thoughts raced as his gaze flicked to his army.

  “We need to retreat now!!” he bellowed, frustration cracking through his voice. His soldiers exchanged uneasy looks, confusion flickering across their faces.

  Then the ground shuddered. Out of the scorched ruins, a colossal shadowy hand surged upward, blotting out the sky as it rose. Its fingers curled into a massive fist before plummeting toward the army with terrifying speed.

  The Duke’s heart clenched.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  There was no time to run, no time to defend. Death rushed down upon them.

  But in that instant, a spark flared. Lightning crackled across the surface of the shadowy fist, spreading in a web of light until it consumed the entire thing.

  With a violent crack, the lightning detonated, shattering the dark hand into nothingness. Smoke and ash swirled, cloaking the field in an eerie haze.

  And then footsteps. Slow, steady and getting closer to them.

  The soldiers stiffened, their eyes widening as a figure emerged from the haze: a teenage boy with yellow hair, smiling cheerfully as if he had just arrived at a festival. He waved casually.

  “Hello, Duke of the North. Arnold, isn’t it? A pleasure meeting you out here!” His voice was bright, almost playful.

  The Duke’s brows furrowed, his lips pressed thin.

  “Y-You’re Finn… one of General Leo’s subordinates!” He bit his lip, sliding from his horse in alarm.

  Drawing his sword, and pointing the blade at Finn.

  “Those massive hands, was it you who summoned it? Were you the one who attacked us?!”

  Fin flinched, shaking his head and waving his hands frantically.

  “No, no, of course not! I don’t have the power to summon something that destructive.”

  Arnold tightened his grip on his sword, his voice sharp with frustration.

  “Then what were those things?! Why did they suddenly appear and attack us?!”

  “Apparently,” Fin replied, his tone unusually calm, “the four plantations projects Queen Towa built across the land have all been destroyed. Leo-san ordered me to investigate each site. That’s why I’m here.”

  He walked toward the scorched earth, crouching low. Scooping up a handful of dirt, he let it trickle slowly through his fingers.

  His gaze followed it down, his expression hard.

  “Even the soil itself is burned,” he murmured. “It’s as if a volcano erupted right here. That’s the scale of the power we’re dealing with.”

  Arnold moved beside him, lowering to one knee. “Enemy?” he asked quietly.

  Fin gave a small nod. “We know about your schemes against the crown, Duke Arnold.” He said softly. “About how you’ve been quietly trying to increase the rebels’ number of forces.” His eyes lifted, faint sparks of lightning flickering in their depths.

  “But despite what you are trying to accomplish. You don’t have the power to overthrow the kingdom. And if you ever do try to strike, Leo-san alone is enough to crush you and your rebels.”

  The Duke’s jaw tightened. He clicked his tongue, his frown deepening.

  “I am the Duke of the North, one of Apocrypha’s strongest nobles. Do you really believe that brat could bring me down?”

  Fin rose to his feet, brushing the soot from his palms with a clap. A sigh slipped past his lips.

  “Believe what you want. I couldn’t care less.” His tone sharpened as his eyes settled on Arnold.

  “But it would be wiser for you to join forces with us… because if you don’t, things will only grow worse for you.”

  Arnold stood as well, irritation flickering faintly across his features.

  “And what,” he asked coldly, “is that supposed to mean?”

  Suddenly, the deep roar of a war horn echoed from Arnold’s castle, so loud it carried even to where they stood.

  Both men froze, eyes widening in disbelief. That sound, it could only mean one thing.

  An enemy attack.

  Arnold wasted no time. He leapt onto his horse, spurring it into a desperate gallop toward his beloved castle.

  By the time he reached the gates and stormed inside, his face had grown pale with dread. He rushed up to the ramparts, his boots striking the stone as though trying to outrun the fear clawing at his chest.

  When his gaze finally fell upon the horizon, his breath caught in his throat. His eyes widening in fear, trembling hands clutching the wall for support as the same horror rippled through his soldiers.

  Stretching across the fields before them was a sea of nightmares: a massive army of monstrous beasts.

  Demons with eyes like burning coals, towering high orcs wielding axes stained in old blood, trolls and ogres stomping the earth as though eager to shatter it, dragons coiling in the sky with wings blotting out the light.

  Dark elves cloaked in shadow raised their hands, twisting the air with black magic.

  Even the heavens seemed to recoil, the once-pale blue sky had turned to a storm of darkness, smothering all hope of daylight.

  Arnold’s voice cracked, his words stumbling over the weight of his terror.

  “W-What… what is the meaning o-of this?” His heart pounded violently, each beat dripping with fear.

  Then, without warning, a brilliant bolt of lightning split the heavens and crashed upon the battlements with a deafening crack. The soldiers flinched, shielding their eyes.

  From the fading sparks, Fin appeared, perched casually at the edge of the wall.

  He pressed a hand to his forehead to shade his eyes, gazing at the monstrous horde with something that resembled… amusement.

  “What fearsome armies they’ve gathered,” he said, his voice carrying a thrill that bordered on excitement.

  He turned his sharp gaze toward Arnold, a faint smile curling on his lips. “So, tell me, Duke… what are you going to do about this?”

  Arnold swallowed hard, his throat dry as stone. His fists tightened, clutching the fabric of his clothes as if the act alone might steady his trembling heart.

  “T-There’s no way we can defend against this,” he stammered, voice heavy with despair.

  “I have citizens inside these walls to protect. With the few soldiers I command… it’s impossible!”

  Fin chuckled softly, the sound almost playful. The lightness of it made Arnold’s brow crease in irritation.

  “Then go to the capital,” Fin said calmly, stretching his arms and bouncing lightly on his feet as though preparing for a spar.

  “Join forces with us. I’ll buy you the time you need to evacuate the citizens.”

  As Fin bent his knees to leap, Arnold instinctively grabbed his wrist.

  “W-What are you doing?! You’ll be throwing your life away!”

  Fin only smiled, serene and almost regal. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he replied, his voice carrying an ease that clashed with the dread thick in the air.

  “Because this isn’t my real body.”

  Arnold blinked, confusion flashing across his face. “What?”

  “This body,” Fin explained, his expression hardening as sparks danced faintly across his skin, “is nothing more than lightning given form. Even if it’s destroyed here, my true self won’t be harmed.” His gaze sharpened, all playfulness gone as he looked Arnold dead in the eye.

  “Now isn’t the time to hesitate. Lead your people. Get them to the capital while it’s still safe.”

  Suddenly, dark clouds coiled over the skies, swallowing the last trace of light. Thunder roared like war drums, and streaks of lightning splintered across the land, shaking the very air.

  “Now go!” Fin’s voice boomed, crackling with power.

  Arnold swallowed his pride, lowering his head in respect. “You have my gratitude.” His face, once pale with fear, steadied as he turned to rally his soldiers.

  Meanwhile, Fin leapt from the castle wall, landing with a thunderous crash before the vast enemy host. His yellow eyes flickered as the overwhelming pressure bore down on him, each creature’s aura sharp and suffocating.

  His chest tightened beneath the weight of it, yet he smirked, exhaling a shaky chuckle. Raising a hand, he waved almost mockingly.

  “How’s everyone doing!!?” His shout carried across the battlefield, brazen and fearless.

  From among the monstrous ranks stepped a young girl. Her long pink twin-tails shimmered like venomous silk, her smile fierce as spear.

  The air warped under her presence, her aura towering above trolls, dragons, and dark elves.

  “How amusing,” she purred, voice smooth yet soaked in malice.

  “For you to stand so boldly before my army.”

  Fin tilted his head, scratching lazily at the back of his neck.

  “Could I ask you to leave?”

  Her smile shattered into fury. She clenched her fist, and the air exploded with raw force.

  “Who do you think you’re talking to, brat?!”

  Fin’s expression hardened, lightning sparking faintly in his narrowed eyes. His tone cut sharp and cold.

  “Then answer me, are you the ones who destroyed the four plantations across the kingdom?”

  For a moment, silence gripped the field. Then the young firl threw her head back and laughed, the sound wild, exultant, and cruel.

  “So what if it was us?!” she shrieked. “What will you do about it?! We won’t just crush your pathetic economy, we will bring your entire kingdom to ruin! You humans failed to repay your debt to Zaroth… so now you will pay with your lives!!”