Smoke and the thick, iron mist of blood choked the air. The ground, churned into a bloody mire, had become a grave for thousands of soldiers. This was no longer a battleground; it was a slaughterhouse.

  "Let's get out while we can!" a soldier shrieked, his voice cracking with panic. "We can't defeat him! He's already taken too many lives!"

  A cry of terror rippled through the remaining ranks. "He's insane! Run, or all of us will die here!"

  "Shut up!" The Captain’s voice, a thunderclap of command, silenced them. This was Captain Lokay, and his eyes were cold steel. "We are soldiers; we fight to the death. We will not let this man conquer us."

  He pointed a gauntleted hand at the figure in the center of the carnage. "He is just one man, and he's wounded from the battle!"

  The man in question was almost completely obscured by the blood that wasn't his own. He stood amidst the dead, a titan in the ruin. In one hand, he clutched a wickedly long sword. In the other, he held the severed head of a nameless soldier.

  He was only twenty-six, yet he looked like a weary god of war. His silver hair was matted with grime, and his silver eyes—two chips of glacial ice—burned with fading fury. He wore a simple black cloth cinched at the waist with a red ribbon that was now completely soaked.

  Ha, I’m almost at my limits, he thought, a cold exhaustion sweeping over him. I’m going to die soon. I’ve already lost too much blood. Damn.

  Then, the weariness vanished, replaced by savage defiance. He threw his head back and let out a booming laugh. "Ha ha ha! Before I die, I'll bring down every single one of you with me!"

  The soldiers recoiled. They didn't see a wounded fighter; they saw Death standing on his own blood.

  With a final, terrible surge of energy, the silver-haired man charged. He moved too fast for the eye to track. A moment later, several soldiers were cleanly cut down by a single, desperate swing of his blade.

  "Kill him! Go!" Captain Lokay roared, his tone aggressive and desperate.

  The renewed battle was a massacre. In less than fifteen minutes, twenty-five more men had fallen. He had crossed five hundred bodies, but he had finally reached his limit.

  "Captain Lokay," a soldier yelled, scrambling up to the commander. "We've already lost more than 1,800 soldiers—5 Giants, 10 Holy Knights, and 2 Emperors! The loss is immense for a single man!"

  Lokay’s lips curved into a faint, terrifying smile. "It doesn't matter to me if we lose ten thousand more soldiers, as long as we can bring him down."

  The silver-haired man simply couldn't hold on. His body, riddled with innumerable wounds and weak from blood loss, finally failed him.

  He looked up at the bruised sky, accepted that he could not fight anymore, and closed his eyes. A soft, resigned smile touched his lips. So this is it, then. I couldn't defeat them at last.

  He opened his eyes, raised his arms wide to the air, and let out one final, ringing curse. "Hahahaha! I will come back and take my revenge! I may die today, but my flame of revenge won't!"

  As if answering his curse, a streak of blue lightning, shaped like a fiery arrow, descended with the speed of light and struck him directly in the chest.

  The young man slowly fell to his knees. He looked towards the crowded soldiers and Captain Lokay, his eyes wide with triumphant hatred even as life faded. He laughed again, a soft, dry sound: "Ha ha ha ha…" before slowly toppling to the ground. He was dead.

  Captain Lokay slowly approached the corpse. He stood over the man. "What a pity," Lokay said, his voice surprisingly soft. "Your will did not give up until the very end, but your body couldn't keep up with you. It is such a shame you died so young. You should have listened to us. You should have handed over that girl to us, but you didn't. And you died protecting her. What a shame."

  One Thousand Years Pass:

  A young man, Kale, sat slumped on the bus, his head resting against the cold window as the city lights blurred past. He was traveling home from his late shift.

  Damm, I'm home late tonight. I hope Celeya is safe, he thought, a familiar pang of worry hitting him.

  He reached their small apartment door and gave a soft, rhythmic knock. Knock, knock, knock.

  The door opened almost instantly. A small girl smiled up at him, her face alight with happiness. "Brother, you're home!"

  This was Celeya, his little sister. She was eight years old; he was eighteen. They were all each other had. Their mother had died seven years ago due to a relentless disease.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  "Celeya, are you hungry?" Kale asked, looking at her with a gentle smile. "Sorry that I'm home late tonight. Come on, I brought us both food. Let's eat."

  Celeya was already sitting at the table, a spoon clutched in one hand. "Brother, quick, I'm starving!"

  Kale replied in a soft voice. "Wait, wait, just a moment. It's cold, so we should heat it up first."

  "Okay," Celeya agreed with a gentle smile.

  She was cute and beautiful, like a fairy. Celeya had bright blue eyes and shimmering silver hair. Her brother, Kale, had common brown hair and black eyes.

  While eating, she looked up at him with bright, curious eyes and asked, "Brother, is it true that I look just like Mom?"

  "Yes, you are beautiful, just like our mom," Kale replied in a gentle voice, smiling softly. "She also had silver hair and blue eyes, just like you."

  Happy with the answer, Celeya immediately went back to eating her food.

  Sitting next to her brother, she suddenly asked again, "What about our father? How does he look, Big Brother? He must look like you!" She stood up suddenly, slapping both hands on the table as she asked the urgent question.

  Kale ignored her. "You shouldn't talk too much while eating food," he said in a soft but firm voice. "It's a bad habit, Celeya."

  Celeya sat back down, folding both hands on her chest. She turned her face away from her brother, clearly unhappy about his constant evasion.

  Kale smiled a bit, looking at his angry sister. "If you're not eating, I'll be happy to eat all your food for you." He started reaching for her plate.

  "Nooo!" Celeya looked back at him, snatched her plate back, and started eating again without looking at her older brother. Kale just sat and smiled, watching his younger sister.

  After dinner, they both went to sleep.

  The next morning, Celeya woke up first and immediately started waking her brother. "Brother, brother, wake up! It's morning!"

  A muffled groan came from the bed. "Ahh, let me sleep a bit more, just a bit..." Kale turned over and settled back into the pillows.

  Seeing her brother wasn't budging, Celeya’s eyes gleamed with mischief. She climbed onto a nearby drawer and, with a shout of joy, launched herself onto her brother’s stomach.

  "Agh!" Kale screamed in pain, his eyes practically popping out.

  Celeya laughed, a bright, clear sound. "Hehehe! I told you to wake up! You should have listened!" She stood in front of her brother, who was still half-lying on the bed, holding his midsection.

  "Okay, okay," Kale replied, pulling himself up. He rubbed the back of his neck with a weary, soft smile, watching his little sister. She stood tall, arms folded, looking deeply proud of her successful alarm clock.

  "You shouldn't do that again," Kale warned playfully. "Or else I might die one day, 'cause you're growing up and getting heavier every day!"

  Their morning routine continued with practiced ease: washing up, cooking, and eating breakfast.

  "Brother, quick! Or I might be late!" Celeya chirped, already darting for the door.

  "Okay, okay, let's go," Kale replied, catching the back of her shirt.

  After closing the apartment door, they started walking toward Celeya’s school. Celeya held her brother’s hand tight while Kale carried her school bag.

  After a few minutes, they arrived at the school gate. As they stepped inside the grounds, Celeya released her brother’s hand. Kale gave her the school bag, and she immediately started running toward her classmates, who waved excitedly. Watching his sister happy with her friends, Kale remembered his own old days, playing carefree with his friends at school.

  "Bye-bye, Brother!" Celeya shouted back at Kale just before disappearing inside the building.

  "Bye-bye! Take good care of yourself," Kale replied.

  _______________________________

  Kale turned his back and started walking toward the big exit gate. Just as he was about to step out, he saw an old man approaching him.

  The man was tall and large, nearly 6′4′′, wearing a crisp black suit and a red tie, and holding a stick in his left hand. He had dark eyes set below a head of white hair and a matching beard.

  "Hello, young Kale. You've grown up a lot. You're a young man now," the man said with a warm smile. This was Principal Calvin.

  "Good morning, Principal Sir," Kale replied.

  Principal Calvin placed his right hand gently on Kale’s left shoulder. "It’s been a while, hasn't it, young Kale? We're seeing each other again." The Principal laughed gently. "You must be very busy these days, having no time to visit this old man, ha ha." The joy of seeing Kale was clear on his face.

  Both stood at the school gate, one facing the exit and one facing the entrance.

  "It's not like that," Kale replied with a nervous smile. "It's just... I thought you were too busy, so I didn't want to bother you, Principal Calvin, sir."

  Note: Principal Calvin was not only the head of the school but also its founder and a rich businessman.

  "Come, let's sit down and chat a little bit, young Kale. I hope you have time for this old man," Principal Calvin said, his expression strong and kind.

  Kale didn't refuse and followed the principal toward a large tree where a wooden bench was placed for students and teachers to rest. It was a sunny morning, and the sky was blue, like the ocean.

  Calvin and Kale sat down on the bench. Calvin let out a deep breath and adjusted his suit. "So, how is life going for you these days?"

  "Not much. Just stuck in the same daily normal stuff. Not that bad, and not that good, either," Kale replied.

  Principal Calvin smiled knowingly. "Ha ha ha. I see. So it seems you're struggling a bit these days."

  Kale smiled back. "Yeah, I guess you're right, Principal Sir. Thank you so much for everything. I know Celeya and I wouldn't have made it without you after Mom passed."

  Then Principal Calvin stood up. "You don't need to thank me. You're like my own son. I have been watching you grow up since you were two years old, when you first joined this school."

  "Although you upset me a bit when you stopped coming to school seven years ago after your mother left this world, I understand your pain, but you should have listened to me and kept studying," Calvin said with a serious tone, the words carrying a deep, fatherly pain.

  Kale remained seated in silence, listening to the principal as if a son was listening to his father's teaching.

  Calvin is a kind man. Ever since Kale and Celeya's mother left this world, he had been the one secretly taking care of them. Kale was only eleven years old when his mother died, and Celeya was just one. Without Calvin's help, they wouldn't have survived, especially his sister, who was still an infant. When Kale was a child and Celeya a baby, Calvin was the one who provided them with food, clothing, money, and paid all the house rent and other expenses. That is why Kale managed to take care of Celeya;