The scent of smoke lingered heavy in the air.
Hours had passed since the magic knight squads had clashed on the plains outside the small village of arvendale — a quite border village lying along veloria's southern frontier. The fighting had been fierce — a territorial dispute between rival factions that cared little for the innocents caught in between. When the battle finally moved on, the village was left in ruins.
Now, only the cries of the wounded and the crackle of fading flames remained.
Ren moved through the debris quietly, his white hair streaked with soot, his thin frame trembling from exhaustion. He wasn't a fighter — never had been. The seventeen-year-old commoner had spent his life tending to people, not hurting them. His grandmother had raised him to believe that kindness was worth more than power.
"The world has enough warriors, Be kind - even when it hurts."
That voice echoed in his mind as he knelt beside a soldier whose breathing came in ragged gasps.
"Hey… stay with me," Ren said softly, tearing a strip of cloth and pressing it against the wound. His hands glowed faintly green as healing magic spread through the man's chest. "It's okay, you'll be fine. Just a little longer."
The soldier's eyes fluttered open, glazed with pain. "You're… not one of them…"
"No," Ren said gently. "Just someone who doesn't want anyone else to die today."
The man managed a weak smile before his breathing steadied. Ren exhaled in relief, wiping sweat and ash from his forehead.
He had no idea that today would be the day his kindness would change his life forever.
As Ren worked, a sudden tremor shook the ground. He froze, eyes darting toward the western hill — the one where the battle had reached its fiercest moments. A crimson light pulsed there, cutting through the smoke.
Then, a figure emerged.
She walked slowly, her long pink hair catching the wind, her presence demanding silence. Her clothes were torn but regal — a mix of elegance and battle scars. Her eyes, cold and sharp, swept across the destruction as if none of it surprised her.
The villagers whispered in terror.
"It's her…"
"The Crimson Witch… she destroyed the entire squad on her own…"
Vaspera
Once the daughter of a noble house, betrayed and exiled for being "too weak," years later, she'd returned to the world with a power so fearsome that kingdoms whispered her name with dread.
Ren stared, frozen between awe and fear. He saw something the others didn't — a streak of blood running down her arm. It wasn't much, but it stood out against her pale skin.
He hesitated. she's bleeding. then swallowed hard and approached.
"H–Hey," he said softly. "You're bleeding."
Her eyes snapped toward him — cold, piercing. The air itself seemed to freeze.
"Don't come closer," she warned.
Ren took a cautious step anyway, raising his hands to show he meant no harm. "I'm a healer. I just want to stop the bleeding. It's nothing serious—"
"I said don't," she hissed, her tone colder now, though her stance wavered for just a heartbeat.
Ren stopped a few feet away. His voice trembled, but not from fear — from resolve.
"Please. You've already fought enough for one day. Just… let me help."
There was a long silence.
Then, a gust of wind swept through as Vaspera's red aura flared. The pressure knocked Ren backward, slamming him against a broken cart.
"You're a fool," she said quietly. "Kindness will get you killed."
Ren's head spun. He looked up through the haze and thought he saw her pause — her expression unreadable — before she turned away and walked past him.
As his vision dimmed, he heard her voice, faint and distant, carried by the wind.
And then, everything went black.
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