[Flashback – Vanyr, Long Ago]
The forge was still glowing, embers drifting upward like memories refusing to fade.
Alaric sat beside the open flame, wiping blood from his hands — not from battle, but from the raw shaping of divine ore. He'd been working for hours, not for war, not for kings — just for her.
His wife stepped into the dim light.
Tall, graceful, brown-skinned with silver eyes like his own. She didn't speak at first, just watched as he worked, sleeves rolled up, sweat clinging to his back.
"Alaric," she finally whispered, voice soft but clear.
He paused, turning his head slightly.
"If one day you find peace… real peace," she said, walking toward him, "don't be afraid to hold it."
He said nothing, watching the flame crackle.
"You've always carried the world on your shoulders. But not everything has to be your burden."
She knelt beside him, placing a hand on his chest — over his heart.
"You deserve to smile. To rest. Even laugh, once in a while."
Alaric lowered his gaze. "…I don't know how."
She smiled, brushing a hand through his long white hair.
"Then learn. Slowly. Day by day. And if the world tries to take it from you…"
Her eyes sharpened — warrior turned mother turned queen.
"Burn it to the ground."
[Present Day – Midgard, Neo-Seoul]
Alaric sat on the roof of the bar, quietly chewing on a stick of jerky. His white hair danced in the wind, his expression unreadable.
Then—
📢 [TOWER BREAK – LEVEL EX]
Location: Tower #7 — Full Sector Lockdown
Rifts Detected. Monsters pouring through. Emergency Response Required.
Hunters were already scrambling. Panic echoed across the city.
From below, Brehn's voice called out: "Alaric, the Tower's breaking again! Should we—?"
But the reply didn't come from Alaric.
It came from his gut.
"GOD DAMMIT!"
He stood up, fists clenched, aura flaring.
"I JUST—WANTED—FRIED—CHICKEN!"
His aura turned silver-white, surging in every direction.
A golden system message appeared only to him:
⚠️ Quest Unlocked: Judgment Tower
Objective: End the Tower Break.
Reward: ???
Penalty: Brehn's Wife Will Stop Cooking For You.
"…Oh hell no."
He opened the ring on his finger — a blinding white light flooded out.
A new weapon formed in his hand — elegant, jagged, humming with divine resonance.
Sword of Judgment.
It glowed silver-white, carved with runes from Vanyr — his own creation.
With one step, the sky cracked as he flew into the clouds. Hunters across the city turned in awe.
A massive ogre-like demon the size of a skyscraper roared at the top of the tower, hurling flaming corpses into the streets.
Alaric's eyes gleamed.
"YOU INTERRUPTED MY MEAL—NOW YOU'LL BE MY APPETIZER!!"
He flew like a comet, slicing the beast's head clean off mid-air.
The air trembled.
And then—
He pierced the Sword of Judgment into the tower's core. A surge of divine energy exploded out—
BOOOOOOOM.
The tower shattered into a column of radiant white light. Wind ripped through the city, knocking hunters off their feet. Buildings trembled.
A moment of silence followed.
Then, from above, laughter.
"HAHAHAHA! FRIED CHICKEN!! I'M COMING FOR YOU, BREHN'S WIFE!!"
And just like that—he vanished.
[Meanwhile – Lotus Guild HQ]
The Lotus Guild's infamous "Witch," a divine-ranked caster with a reputation for cold efficiency, stared at the monitor.
The smoke from the tower was still rising.
She blinked.
Then turned to her vice leaders.
"…Who the fuck was that?"
[White Tiger Guild HQ]
The guild master was on his knees in front of the screen, hands clasped like a religious zealot.
"My lucky charm… my blessed coin… my walking apocalypse…"
Tara kicked him in the back. "Get off the floor, dumbass."
Arin, pale and trembling, whispered: "That's him. It's really him."
The Witch. The Hydra. The whole damn continent just witnessed it.
The White King had moved.
And it all started…
Because he wanted chicken.