Leon stood at the edge of Blackbell Forest, his body tense, but his eyes burning with resolve. He followed an alternate path indicated by the ancient map in his hand—a path untouched by ordinary men.
The night wind rustled through the leaves, creating a soft whisper that sounded almost like a warning. But it wasn't enough to shake his determination.
Tree shadows stretched beneath the moonlight, swaying slowly as if trying to consume him. But fear? That had long died—along with his family.
Armed with nothing but a flashlight and the worn-out map, Leon stepped onto the hidden trail deep within the forest, a place the locals called "forbidden ground."
He had barely taken a single step when an old man emerged from the darkness—silent, as though conjured from thin air.
"Stop right there, boy," the man's voice was deep and gravelly, like stones grinding beneath a riverbed.
Leon narrowed his eyes, his hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at his waist. "Who are you?"
"I'm no one that matters. But what does matter is this—you shouldn't go any deeper into this forest," the old man replied, stepping forward slowly. "There's something…"
He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze fixed on Leon's neck—right where the moonlight hit the faint crescent-shaped symbol.
His expression changed. He stepped closer, as if to make sure what he saw wasn't a trick of the light.
"That's… What's your name?" he asked, voice firm now—laced with something unspoken.
Leon remained alert, but sensed no danger. "Leon. Leon Emery."
The old man's eyes widened. "Emery?" he whispered in disbelief. He moved closer and grabbed Leon's shoulder. "Did you say… Emery?!"
Leon gently but firmly pushed the man's hand away. "You know my name. But I don't know yours. Who are you really?"
"I don't just know you, Leon," he said softly. "I knew your family. Long ago… and the night it all ended."
Leon's heart pounded. "You know what happened to my family?" he asked, voice tight.
"Once, the name Emery was respected across the entire northern region. Wealth, influence, honor… they had it all. But now…" He exhaled deeply. "That night… I should've been there. I failed. And I'll never forgive myself for being absent."
His head bowed low, his body trembling with long-held regret.
Leon was taken aback but reached out to steady him. "Stand up. Whatever happened that night—it wasn't your fault."
Leon's voice softened, shadowed by a pain that still lingered. "That night…"
Memories tore through his mind. Fire. Screams. Blood.
Everything he had loved… destroyed by unseen hands. He had been the only one to survive—forced to watch it all, powerless.
Since that night, his life had revolved around one thing: vengeance.
"I can't even imagine your suffering," the old man said quietly, his eyes dark with sorrow.
Leon lifted his head, jaw clenched. "I won't die until those who butchered my family feel the same. An eye for an eye. Blood for blood!"
The old man placed a steady hand on his shoulder—gentle, but firm. "You're not alone, Leon. I know who was behind the massacre."
Leon's pupils narrowed. "What do you mean? Who were they?!"
"The Thornfield family," the old man said, his voice heavy, like a curse. "They were the ones who struck your home that night."
Leon froze. Only for a moment—before a long-buried rage reignited inside him.
"Thornfield…!" he hissed. "They're the ones?!"
His voice snarled through the air, shaking the stillness of the night.
"Calm down, Leon," the old man said firmly. "You can't take them head-on—not yet. The Thornfields are protected by their long-time allies… and the true masterminds behind it all—House Drakebane."
Leon went silent, breath catching in his throat. "Drakebane…?" he repeated under his breath.
"Yes. The Thornfields and the Drakebanes have shielded each other for decades. What happened to you, and your family… it wasn't random. It was planned. Meticulously."
The name Drakebane conjured a single face in Leon's mind: Lucas.
To this day, Leon still held a burning grudge against him for kidnapping Sofia. And now, to learn that Lucas's family had been involved in his family's slaughter—it made his blood boil.
His goal had grown. Before, it was only about revenge on Lucas. But now, even death wouldn't be enough for House Drakebane.
"Thornfield. Drakebane. I swear… you'll pay for everything—down to the last root of your bloodline!" Leon growled, his voice low, yet thunderous.
"You're not alone," the old man repeated. "I'll help you, Leon. For your family. For justice."
Leon stared at him. For the first time that night, the fury in his eyes gave way to something else—a flicker of gratitude.
"Thank you… but I still don't know who you are."
The old man gave a faint smile. "My name is Hanrick. But just call me Old Han. I was once a senior advisor in the Creed Mountain Order. And now… my mission isn't over yet."
Leon gave a slow nod. "Then, Old Han… we have a plan to make."