The rain would not stop.It poured endlessly, as if the heavens themselves wept for the blood spilled that night.
Walter stood amidst the ruin, the sound of thunder rumbling like a requiem for the fallen. The fountain near him overflowed with crimson water — beast blood mixed with rain, swirling into a silent testament to what had happened here.
Before him, Nox — the dark hero, the stranger, the savior — stood motionless in the storm. His mask cracked, his sword broken, his eyes cold and hollow.
And then, just as Walter blinked through the rain —He was gone.
No sound. No trace.Only silence, and the faint steam rising where he once stood.
Walter's lips parted. "Wha—" He took a step forward, slipping slightly on the wet stone.Gone. Vanished.
He looked around, desperate, scanning the smoke, the ash, the pools of blood — but the dark figure was nowhere to be found.
Then, something inside Walter broke.He clenched his fists, his whole body trembling with exhaustion and disbelief.
"NOX!" he screamed into the storm, voice cracking."One day… one day, I'll surpass you!"
His shout echoed through the ruins, fading into the thunder's growl. The sound felt small — powerless — compared to the memory of the man who had fought like death itself.
Moments later, survivors began to appear from the shadows — mages, soldiers, townspeople. They emerged cautiously, their robes torn, faces pale, eyes filled with disbelief.
When they saw the battlefield, they froze.It wasn't a battlefield anymore.It was a massacre.
Beast corpses littered the ground, blood painting every stone, every wall. The earth still steamed from the heat of battle. Weapons lay shattered, armor melted. Even the air was thick with iron and smoke.
The mages ran to Walter, who was leaning near the broken fountain, blood running down his arm. His breathing was shallow, his eyes lost in the memory of what he had just witnessed.
"Sir Walter!" one of them shouted, kneeling beside him."What happened here? Who did this?"
Walter didn't answer at first. His hand was trembling violently — not from pain, but from something far deeper. Fear.
He looked down at his palm. It wouldn't stop shaking. His heart pounded so hard it hurt. For the first time in his life, he couldn't steady his own breath.
"He…" Walter whispered."He wasn't human."
The mages exchanged confused glances.
"Who?"
Walter looked up, his eyes wide, haunted.
"The man in the black mask… he called himself NOX."
He swallowed hard. Every time he tried to remember the look in those eyes — that emotionless, cold fire — he felt his spine freeze.
"He fought alone. Killed them all. Even the magma beast… he—"
Walter stopped himself, shaking his head.
"No. You wouldn't understand."
The mages could see it — the fear still in his eyes. Walter, the confident warrior who once called himself the strongest in the region, now trembled like a child in the dark.
For the first time, Walter understood what true power — and true despair — felt like.He realized how small he had been.And as the storm continued to rage, that realization weighed heavier than any wound.
Meanwhile, somewhere deep in the labyrinth of alleyways, Nox — no, Nova — ran silently through the rain. His cloak flapped behind him, soaked and heavy. His boots splashed through puddles of blood and ash.
He didn't look back.He couldn't.
The echoes of battle still rang in his ears — the screams, the fire, the faces. The summoner's dying words burned in his mind like fire on paper.
"You and I are the same…"
Nova's jaw tightened. Each step he took seemed to drag him deeper into thought.
If I want to become stronger… do I have to leave everything behind?Do I have to leave this village?
He thought of the people he'd fought for — the same ones who had mocked him, bullied him, treated him like dirt. He thought of the nights he'd spent alone, crying silently, hating his weakness.
Now he was strong.But it didn't feel like victory.It felt like a loss.
As he slipped through a narrow alley, his thoughts sharpened.One by one, he eliminated every possibility. Every reason to stay. Every excuse to stop.
And then it hit him.A plan — cold, perfect, final.
If I die here… then Nox can live forever.
He smiled faintly, though his lips trembled. The rain hid the tears that fell from his eyes.
He made his way back to the costume shop, the same place he had crashed into during the battle. The door creaked open — burned, broken, lifeless. Inside, the smell of ash and charred wood still lingered.
Among the ruins lay the body of a dead mage, burned beyond recognition. Nova dragged the body gently, whispering,
"Forgive me…"
He removed the mage's ruined cloak and replaced it with his old clothes — the ones he had worn before transforming into Nox. The tattered yellow robe, the broken belt, the torn gloves.
When he was done, he stood back and looked at the lifeless figure.To anyone who found it, it would look as though Nova had died there, crushed and burned in the chaos.
Perfect.His old self — erased.
He turned and walked away slowly, every step echoing with finality. His destination: his private library. The one place left untouched by war.
He climbed through the balcony window and stepped into the silence. Books lay scattered everywhere — his grandfather's scrolls, his own journals. The faint scent of ink and smoke mixed in the air.
Nova walked toward the tall mirror at the corner of the room — and froze.
The man staring back wasn't the boy he remembered.
His once golden hair had turned jet black, glistening even under the dim light. His body, once fragile and lean, was now sculpted and hardened — forged by fire and blood. His eyes — those crimson eyes — burned faintly like coals that refused to die.
He reached up, touching his reflection with trembling fingers.For a moment, he couldn't breathe.
"Is this… me?"
The face in the mirror looked back — strong, unyielding, terrifying.Yet behind that strength, he could still see a flicker of what he once was — the frightened boy who just wanted to be enough.
Nova closed his eyes.A single tear fell down his cheek.
"So this is the price… of strength."
Outside, thunder rolled once more — a low, mournful growl, as if the world itself agreed.
And in that lonely room, surrounded by shadows and silence, Nova realized something:He hadn't just killed the monsters.
He had buried the boy he used to be.