Early at D-Day
-----Narrator-----
At the other side of the globe, where the Demon Continent stretched in jagged horizons of yellow stone and ochre soil, life clung to a gentler corner of the land. A small and secluded village where blue‑haired villagers moved quietly among them, their youthful appearances belying lifespans that stretched for centuries. Their homes were built low and close together, carved from stone and reinforced with wood, while the roofs were fashioned from the massive turtle shells.
And farther beyond the village's reach, childish giggles and laughs from a group of children could be heard.
The kids with blue hair chased a small creature with bulging golden eyes, green skin, and long comical legs.
"This is the biggest I've seen!"
"Hehe it is so slimy!"
The frog that the children were playing with leapt toward the deeper side of the rocks, its shrill croak echoing strangely in the still air. The children giggled, their laughter carrying innocently as they chased after it, unaware of the danger that lurked ahead.
Within those jagged stones, a pack of hulking beasts prowled silently, their matted black fur streaked with gray, eyes glowing faintly red, and saliva dripped from sharp fangs as they prowled stalking their prey.
The frog halted suddenly, perched at the edge of the rocks.
One of the children bent down, giggling and scooped the odd creature carefully into both palms.
From the shadows above, a hulking wolf lunged forward as its fangs bared aiming straight for the child's neck.
The boy's laughter died in his throat. His eyes widened and his body locked in place as its red growing eyes filled his vision.
Thud!
Suddenly, a blur of force smashed into the wolf's side, sending the creature flying, blood spilling from its mouth.
When the child broke free from his daze, he looked up and saw a towering figure that held a white spear firmly in his hand.
"Get behind me."
The children obeyed instantly.
More growls rose from the rocks, louder, closer. The pack emerged, circling, eyes gleaming, teeth snapping. The warrior scanned the field, grip tightening on his spear.
In a blur of motion, he moved his spear whistling through the air with deadly rhythm.
The first wolf lunged with its jaws snapping, but the man pivoted on his heel, thrusting the spear forward. The point pierced its chest, driving the beast back with a strangled yelp.
Another came from the side, claws raking, but he twisted the shaft, sweeping it in a wide arc that cracked against ribs and sent the creature sprawling. His movements were fluid, each strike flowing into the next, as if the battlefield itself bent to his rhythm.
A third wolf leapt high, aiming for his throat. He dropped low, spinning the spear in a tight circle, the white shaft flashing like lightning. The beast was caught mid‑air, skewered clean through, its body collapsing with a wet thud.
Growls erupted all around, the pack closing in.
He advanced, stepping into their circle with fearless grace. The spear became an extension of his body with each motion for an inevitable kill. Blood sprayed across the stones, painting the ground in crimson arcs as wolves whimpered and fell.
When the last beast collapsed, silence fell heavy. The man stood tall, spear dripping, his chest rising steady.
The figure turned toward the children huddled in the corner, his steps echoed against the blood‑stained stones. As he drew closer, the shadows peeled away revealing his face, rigid features carved with severity, a crimson jewel gleaming from his forehead, and the unmistakable green hair of the Surperd race.
The sight struck the children like a curse. Their legs trembled uncontrollably, backs pressed tighter against the wall as tears spilled down their cheeks.
The tall man's gaze swept over them. With a satisfied snort, he turned away, his heavy steps carrying him back towards the wilderness.
But then a faint tug pulled at the fabric of his pants.
He turned, and saw the child still clutching the frog in one hand, sniffling softly.
-----
Inside the village chief's hut, the air was heavy with incense and the faint glow of crystal lanterns that lined the walls. The chamber had low ceilings supported by timber beams, stone floors polished smooth, and woven mats arranged neatly around a central hearth.
Ruijerd stood tall near the center, his spear resting at his side, his imposing figure casting long shadows across the firelight.
"Thank you for saving our children, Ruijerd‑san," the chief said, stepping forward. His robe dyed in deep indigo and embroidered with silver thread in patterns of ancient runes.
A pendant of polished stone hung from his chest, the unmistakable Symbol of Migurd's race.
With deliberate grace, the chief bowed.
Around them, the villagers who had gathered at the edges of the chamber watched in awe.
Ruijerd's gaze remained steady, the crimson jewel on his forehead glinting faintly in the lantern light as he regarded the bowed figure.
"I've only done what I must. Protecting children is a warrior's duty."
Ruijerd's voice was steady, his tone carrying the weight of conviction. He shifted his head towards the entrance of the hut, eyes narrowing as if he could see beyond the walls into the wilderness.
"I sense a lot of monsters around the area. Are you having problems with security?"
The village chief, seated across from him, straightened his posture before easing back down onto the woven mat. A faint smile crossed his weathered face, though it did little to mask the fatigue in his eyes.
"We've been having trouble with the monster surge recently," he admitted. "All of our warriors have their hands full."
Ruijerd met the eyes of the village chief while his voice blunt and resolute.
"Let me help you."
The words hung heavy in the hut.
The chief's eyes widened.
"You… would help?" His tone carried both gratitude and hesitation.
Around them, the fire crackled softly, and the villagers who lingered at the edges of the hut exchanged uneasy glances as the name of the Surperd carried great fear.
"Yes. Until this monster surge subsides."
Ruijerd's voice was firm, his hand rising pointing at the crimson jewel embedded in his forehead. "My third eye can see monsters before they strike. With it, I can protect your people."
The chief leaned back, one hand covering his mouth as he contemplated the offer.
Finally, he exhaled, his tone measured but edged with doubt.
"The village and I are grateful for what you've done, saving our children was no small deed. But why should we place our trust, our security, in the hands of a Superd?"
The words hung in the hut like a blade, cutting through the quiet. Around them, the villagers shifted uneasily, their eyes darting between the chief and the warrior. Gratitude warred with fear, and the stigma of Ruijerd's lineage loomed larger than the threat of the monster surge.
Ruijerd tightened his grip on his spear, the white shaft creaking faintly under the strain.
"I want to restore the Superdia's honor," his voice unwavering. "To spread the word that we are not inherently awful beings."
The village chief studied him carefully.
The firelight flickered across Ruijerd's rigid features, illuminating the crimson jewel and the green hair that carried centuries of fear and stigma.
At last, Ruijerd lifted his head, his voice carrying the weight of a plea and the steel of conviction.
"So please… let me help you."
The chief carefully analyzed the warrior's face, and what his gaze found deep within Ruijerd's eyes was not the cold gleam of a killer, but the weary determination of a man desperately clawing his way back from the great height he had once fallen from.
Ruijerd anticipated rejection in the long silence, his grip tightening as he closed his eyes and braced himself to accept his fate.
But then the chief finally spoke.
"Yes… Ruijerd-san. Please, help us make the village safer."
Ruijerd could barely believe the words he was hearing. For the first time, someone had given him a chance, not as a cursed warrior of the Superd, but as a protector. His chest tightened, the weight of centuries pressing against him, and for a fleeting moment his grip on the spear faltered.
He lowered his head, strands of green hair slipping forward to shadow his face, and drew in a slow, trembling breath. Ruijerd's eyes burned as he lifted them again. He met the gaze of the man before him.
"Ah. I will."
The village chief offered a brief smile as he welcomed the guest, guiding him to the home prepared for visitors where he would stay for the time being.
Ruijerd chose a quiet corner beside the open window. Leaning his back against the wall, he settled into place.
Beyond the frame, stretched a night sky filled with shinnying stars, the moonlight spilling gently across his rugged features softening it so slightly.
He closed his eyes, allowing himself a rare moment of rest.
-----Ruijerd Superdia POV-----
I woke in a foggy world, the air thick and damp, clinging to my skin like a shroud. At first, I was lying flat, the cold surface beneath me shifting like water, as if I was floating. Slowly, I forced myself upright, lifting my eyes towards the horizon.
An endless ocean stretched out before me, its surface smooth as glass, reflecting the pale fog that hung above it.
Then I looked down.
Around me, the water was stained in red, rippling with every breath I took.
My hands trembled as I lifted them from the water. Clinging to my palms were fragments of my wife's torn shawl, my son's broken spear, painted with crimson red, and my daughter's favorite doll, its cracked head staring at me with hollow eyes.
I dropped them back in the bloody water, the silence shattered.
Painful cries rose all around me, my wife's terrified scream, my son's broken plea, my daughter's horrified cries, clawed at my ears becoming an unbearable chorus.
I gripped my head, fingers digging into my scalp as a tremendous headache split me apart. My skull felt as though it were cracking open, my brain flooding with visions of a life I had never lived but somehow carried inside me.
The overflow was too much.
"Mhm...MHaaaahAAhraAAAAA!"
I screamed, the sound tearing through the pain and the horrid voices of this living nightmare.
Then the agony suddenly ceased. The cries of the past fell silent, leaving behind a hollow stillness.
And somewhere distant, a soothing sound of classical instruments weaving together in a melody that felt impossibly out of place in this bizarre world.
Confused, I slowly opened my eyes. And I was no longer in that vast sea world. Instead, I found myself inside a neatly arranged room.
The chamber was quiet, filled with the faint scent of polished wood and fresh linen. A long table stood against the wall, its surface lined with folded garments, a silver comb, and a crystal decanter half‑filled with water. A cushioned chair sat nearby, angled toward a small window where pale light filtered through sheer curtains, casting soft patterns across the floor.
I turned around, and before me stood a tall mirror, its surface gleaming in the dim light.
Staring back at me was a man dressed in a neatly tailored white suit, its fabric shimmering with intricate engravings that caught the light like silver threads. My hand rose instinctively to my hair, styled backward in a way I had never worn before, stiff and glossy with some strange substance that held it perfectly in place.
Before I could comprehend my odd appearance, a soothing voice broke through the haze.
"Honey? The after party will start!"
I snapped toward the sound. A woman stood there, radiant, her blonde hair cascading like sunlight, her green eyes shone in the subtle light. She wore a flowing gown of layered silk, embroidered with delicate patterns that shimmered as she moved. Jewels glinted at her neckline, and the fabric hugged her form with elegance.
Her smile was warm, and... Beautiful...
"The pope brought us some chocolate! We have—"
Her words faltered as her gaze locked with mine. She froze as confusion flickering across her face. I stood motionless, unable to act.
"What's wrong, Ruijerd?"
My eyes darted around the room, desperate to find an answer. My mouth opened, but no words came.
She stepped closer, and her hands gently reached up, carefully caressing my face. Warmth spread across my cold skin, seeping into me, soothing the storm in my chest. Her smile returned, faint but tender, and for a moment, my heart eased.
Instinctively, I slowly reached for her arms, carefully holding them in place as if they were the only anchor I had left.
I stared at those beautiful green eyes once before I closed mine.
...
I woke back in the Migurd's hut, the familiar scent of smoke and wood filling my lungs. The fire had burned low, and through the small window I saw the sunrise cresting the horizon, painting the sky in gold.
I lifted my hands, staring at my palms. They trembled faintly as I thought of what I had seen...
And what I have felt...
-----Narrator-----
Across the Red Dragon Mountains, where autumn warmth lingered over the vegetation and villages busied themselves with harvest, a secluded hamlet lay tucked against the hills. At the crest of the slope stood a two‑story house, home to the village knight who watched over his people.
Outside, the knight moved with practiced grace, his sword cutting arcs through the air with magnificent precision. Farmers passing by slowed their steps, eyes wide with awe at the knight's strength and elegance.
The knight seemed to revel in the moment. With a grin, he stripped off his sweaty long sleeve...
Huh?
He took off his shirt?
"Gaaah!"
"Kieaaa!"
The village girls squealed, fanning themselves as they gawked at the shameless knight.
Where is the honor of a knight?
Yet he smirked, flexing deliberately, finishing his routine with a flourish stance for the eyes of the women.
Splash
A sudden wave of water struck his face, washing away his smugness. He cleared the droplets from his eyes, and turned towards the source. His gaze locked on the open window of the second floor.
"What…?"
-----
Inside the room, a blob of water travelled across the floor, landing in a bucket with a sharp splash.
"Yes! I did it!"
A small child with light brown hair and bright green eyes leapt to his feet, celebrating his breakthrough discovery in magic. His excitement burned like fire, and he rushed back to the textbook lying open on the ground.
"I've got more magic power now," he whispered breathlessly, "so it's time I tried intermediate magic."
He flipped the page, clutching the book in one hand while extending the other toward the window. His fingers spread wide, trembling with anticipation.
"Supple spirit of water, princess of streams that flow through the earth… sweep away all things with your hidden inner might—Splash Flow!"
At once, streams of water coiled around his palm, swelling larger and larger until his small frame shook beneath the force. The energy surged, overwhelming, and then burst forward in a torrent.
BOOM!
The wall shattered as the spell exploded outward, the window frame collapsing in a spray of debris. The entire house shook, timbers groaning under the impact. Outside, the knight spun, alarm across his face, and sprinted back towards the building.
Inside, the boy stumbled backward, crashing onto the floor. A sudden wave of exhaustion overtook him.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs. The door burst open, and a man's voice rang with urgency.
"What's going on?!"
Two young women rushed in behind him. One, with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, stepped forward, her face pale with worry.
"Rudy!"
-----Rudeus Greyrat POV-----
Argh… my head hurts…
I pushed myself upright, rubbing at my temple, the ache pounding like a drum inside my skull.
Did I pass out from mana exhaustion?
"Tch. Here I thought I increased my magic power…"
The sound of my own voice made my stomach drop. It was hoarse, deep, nothing like the childish tone I had grown used to.
Panic surged through my chest, blood hammering toward my brain.
My hands clawed at my face, searching desperately for the familiar softness of a child's cheeks. Instead, I felt coarse skin, patches of unkempt beard.
Was it all a dream?
My gaze dropped, expecting the pudgy belly of my former body, but found only a gray robe draped over a slim frame. My chest heaved, breath ragged, vision blurring as my blood pressure spiked.
I staggered upright, nearly tripping over my own feet, spinning around frantically to take in my surroundings.
Stone pressed close on one side, jagged and damp, while the other opened into a sheer drop. A biting wind howled through the corridor, carrying flecks of snow across the stone floor. The world stretched downward into a sea of mist, the cliff edge vanishing into nothingness.
What the hell…
"MOOOOOU!"
"EEEK!"
I jumped sideways, arms raised in a pathetic shield, eyes squeezed shut. A massive beast lumbered past, its horns scraping the stone wall, breath steaming in the air. My heart thudded like a drum.
I cracked one eye open. The buffalo-like creature snorted, unimpressed, and simply continued down the path.
…Really?
I pinched the top of my nose, trying to recall what was happening, when a loud, childish voice shattered my thoughts.
"WHAT'S WRONG RUDEUS?! HURRY UP!"
My face twisted into a frown. Irritation and confusion boiled together as I turned toward the voice.
"IN A MINUTE!" I barked back, only this time, the sound was my younger voice again.
!!!
I looked down. My robe was different now, newer, cleaner, and in my hand was a long staff with a glowing blue jewel.
My mouth twitched, half agape. Am I dreaming? Maybe I should pinch my cheek…
Footsteps echoed to my right. I turned, and there was a young girl with red hair blazing like fire, eyes narrowed with fury.
She clenched her fist and drove it straight into my cheek. Pain exploded, sending me sprawling to the ground.
Blood filled my mouth along with the pain. I spat, and a tooth clattered against the stone.
Yep… this is reality. No dream could hurt this much.
I struggled to rise, glaring at the monster standing before me with her feet planted wide, arms crossed, mouth twisted into ^ shape.
"YOU ARE ACTING WEIRD!"
My eye twitched.
Then, a gentler voice cut through the tension.
"Is our pace too fast, Rudeus?"
I turned. A towering muscular figure loomed with a white spear in his hand.
Without thinking, I nodded.
He smiled faintly, then turned to the girl.
"Eris, let's slow our pace."
She frowned, disgust curling her eye brows.
Oi, could you make it any more obvious?
She huffed, closing her eyes and turning away.
"Mnph!"
Oh, I get it.
She's tsundere.
-----
We'd been walking for hours.
This girl, Eris, had been dragging me along, practically bouncing with excitement over every little thing she saw. I guess she really likes traveling.
The man, Ruijerd, would sometimes chime in, but he was your typical stoic warrior.
Meanwhile, me? I had no clue what was happening. I figured I'd just gather information while following along, but honestly, I was exhausted.
And we'd even slowed the pace!
Argh, I want this to end!
"Haaa…" I sighed.
Thud!
My forehead throbbed as I slammed into Ruijerd's back. He'd stopped dead in his tracks.
"Urgh… Why did you stop?" I groaned, rubbing my forehead.
I moved to the side, expecting him to apologize, but both he and Eris were frozen with their eyes wide open staring forward.
Crack.
Ruijerd's grip tightened around his spear, so hard the shaft itself groaned.
I followed their gaze. The corridor stretched ahead, stone pressing close on one side, the other dropping into a mist‑filled abyss. The wind howled, growing heavier and colder in this silence stretch.
Through the fog, two figures emerged.
The buffalo traveling with us growled low, its breath steaming in the air.
Step by step, the figures came into view: a tall man with white hair and golden eyes, his expression calm yet commanding. Beside him, a masked figure with long black hair moved in perfect silence.
They passed to our left, uniforms sharp and intricate, designs so cool I almost forgot to stop staring.
"Mh?"
The white‑haired man stopped. The masked girl mirrored him.
"Rudeus, don't move a muscle. You too, Eris."
Eh? Okay… if the adult says so.
"REEEEAH!"
The buffalo shrieked, thrashing wildly before bolting toward the cliff. Its hooves scraped stone, then vanished into the abyss with a fading cry.
Startled, I spun around instinctively locking eyes with the man.
My vision trembled with pain stabbing behind my eyes so I closed them.
"Is that Ruijerd Superdia I hear?"
"Kuh!" Ruijerd flinched.
"And you must be Eris Boreas Greyrat."
"Muh" Eris trembled.
"And you are…"
I clenched my teeth as the pain begun subsiding. Slowly, I opened one, covering the other with my hand.
"Rudeus Greyrat."
Ruijerd's hostility flared. "Who are you?! How do you know my name?!"
Eris chimed in, fists clenched. "How come you know mine too?!"
Eeh… is this the part I say the same thing?
"Uh… how do you know mine as well?" My voice came out meek, pathetic. The man's intimidating gaze shifted to me, piercing my soul and I immediately looked at the floor.
"Are you son of Paul Greyrat?"
How does he know that? If he's really informed, then maybe I can draw something useful out of this?
I clenched my hand, forcing the words out of my throat. "Y‑yes… B‑but do you know the two of them?"
He carefully studied me.
"No. I haven't met them yet."
"Yet? What does that mean?"
"You don't need to know that."
"Then what about me? How did you know my name and my father?"
His eyes narrowed. "We've met before."
"E‑eh? Did we?"
Sorry dude, I don't remember someone this iconic! Must be all this strange things happening with me! So please don't blame me!
He started to slowly take steps towards us.
Ruijerd and Eris snapped into fighting stances.
"Don't come any closer!" Ruijerd's bloodlust spilled into the air.
The man stopped, golden eyes narrowing towards me. His voice sharpened.
"You… I've met you traveling with those two before. In this very same place. In this very same time."
His irritation grew with hostility.
Crap, this guy's crazy! Do I just be honest—
"Tell me. Does the word 'Hitogami' mean anything to you?"
The moment I heard it, pain exploded in my skull. My head felt like it was splitting apart, swelling with information that didn't belong. I clutched it, desperate to hold myself together.
Ah, this hurts! Make it stop!
Hatred surged through me, raw and unfiltered, twisting my insides.
The faint bloodlust triggered him.
In a blink of an eye, he was right in front of me with his golden eyes pinning me in place.
"So you are behind this time phenomenon."
His palm flattened, arm pulling back.
"Die."
"Rudeus!"
Ruijerd barely moved before the man's hand drove straight through my chest.
Agony erupted. It was as if molten iron had been poured into me, ribs splintering, lungs burning, every nerve screaming and blood erupting in my throat. My fingers clawed weakly at his arm, desperate to push it away.
His voice cut through the haze tinged with regret.
"I should've left you dead."
The pain consumed me, unbearable, until darkness swallowed me whole.
...
With what little strength remained, I snapped awake.
"AARGH!"
I shot upright, clawing at my chest, desperate to rip away the phantom sensation of that foreign hand still lodged inside me. My nails dug into my skin, frantic, as if I could peel away the memory itself.
"Rudy!?"
Cold air rushed back into me, and my eyes open wide, founding myself in my bed, surrounded by familiar faces of my father, mother, and our maid.
All staring at me with worry etched across their features.
Zenith's face trembled on the edge of breaking. She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around me. Her embrace was warm, soothing, steadying the storm inside my heart.
A strange warmth filled me, and the tears I had fought to hold back spilled freely. My fingers tightened around her sleeve, clinging to her as if she were the only anchor in the world.
"It was so scary…" my voice shaking.
Zenith's lips quivered.
"It's okay, hon. You're safe."
-----Narrator-----
As the young child slept peacefully in his room, three adults gathered around the dinner table as the air grew thick with concern.
At the head sat Paul, leaning back with a careless posture, his grin shameless as he raised his brows up and down. Across from him, Zenith sat upright with her hands clasped tightly together on the table. Beside her silently stood Lilia, the maid, with her eyes flicking between the two with quiet unease.
"Rudeus already knows how to read at the age of four!" Paul puffing his chest. "Heh… maybe my son's a genius! Clearly, he inherited that from me!"
Zenith sighed.
"He also inherited your mischievous side. He snuck around the house with a grimoire and blew a hole in the wall!"
"Eeh, isn't that a good thing? He used intermediate magic at the age of four!"
Zenith's fingers tightened, knuckles whitening. "Yes, but he passed out from mana drainage! Did you not see how terrified he was when he woke up?"
Paul leaned back in his chair, his grin fading into disinterest.
Lilia, standing quietly beside Zenith, stepped forward with a soft, composed voice.
"Lady Madam, I believe it is normal for a young child to be frightened in such a moment. I am certain your comfort eased his troubles."
Zenith pressed a hand to her chest, her voice softening. "Maybe… but I've never seen my baby cry so desperately before."
Her expression hardened.
She rose to her feet, slamming her palms against the table as her eyes blazed fixed on Paul.
"Paul! We must hire a magic tutor for Rudeus!"
Paul jolted, nearly toppling his chair as he stumbled upright.
"Wait, wait a minute! We promised if it was a boy, he'd be a swordsman!"