On a lonely night, far away from the large islands, a small village lay in the middle of a remote island in the endless ocean. Life there was usually quiet; sometimes the wind brought rain, sometimes storms raged across the coast, but never before had a storm shown such violence as on this evening.
At first, it was just a strong gust of wind. Then a second. And suddenly, a storm arose with a monstrous wall of lashing gusts, thundering waves, and ominous rumblings. The howling of the wind sounded as if something beyond nature was unleashing its fury.
The residents looked up at the sky in fear.
This was no ordinary spring storm, like those that usually occur at this time of year.
Panic spread, and the people ran into their houses. They closed the shutters, clung to each other, and began to pray. But their prayers were swallowed up by the roaring wind.
Then, in the middle of the eye of the storm, a tornado appeared. A gigantic vortex that cut through the darkness and looked like a gateway to another world. And there, right in the center, something could be seen. It looked like a figure, a figure that controlled this tornado.
Its body was large and powerful, its long hair swirling around it like the tail end of the storm. Zigzag lines of black war paint covered its entire skin, seeming to pulsate with life in the flash of lightning. This apparition seemed like the descent of a calamity never meant for mortal eyes.
When the figure saw the villagers' panicked attempts to flee, his mouth twisted into a mad, cruel grin. A laugh burst from his throat, so sharp and cold that it cut through even the storm.
He dissolved the tornado with a casual wave of his hand and slowly floated toward the ground.
He scratched his cheek with relish, his skin reddening slightly as he murmured quietly and with excited tension:
"Hmmm... I'm looking forward to what's about to happen."
No one in the village knew that this intruder was no ordinary enemy. He was after something specific. Something that had long been forgotten:
a fragment of a divine soul — and this fragment was here.
He strutted across the market square, where just a few minutes ago the residents had been peacefully selling their goods. Even the children, who had been causing a commotion in the town just a few minutes earlier, had vanished into thin air. Only the residents' wares remained. Fruit, vegetables, hunting tools, clay jugs, and even woven ropes lay there. The lively village seemed transformed. No one dared to stand in the way of this figure.
The figure could sense the fear of the residents almost smell it. With a wave of its hand, it created gusts of wind that sent the goods flying into the air. Everything shattered against the walls of the houses.
The residents noticed this, but it only made them panic even more, and they all moved a little closer together.
The figure laughed again, the further it went. The more chaos it caused. The more fear it smelled. Then it reached one of the houses. A loud bang sounded as it kicked the door open with a gust of wind.
Inside, a woman and two men sat huddled together, their eyes wide with fear. The stranger looked at them like a predator who had already decided that his prey had no chance.
"Give me the fragment."
His voice was calm. Too calm.
He held out his open hand to them. No one moved. No one understood.
"What fragment? What does he mean...?"
This thought flashed through their minds, but their fear silenced them.
The stranger grimaced impatiently.
With a single, elegant sweep of his arm, he cut through the air, and the three people sank lifeless to the ground as if the wind itself had snatched their lives away.
He laughed briefly, as if the whole thing had been nothing more than a minor diversion, and moved on to the next door. House after house, the residents met the same fate. The figure made sure that no one could escape, as it was impossible for the residents to take a single step outside their homes in such a storm.
Some residents desperately tried to confront him — with knives, bows, or bare fists. But they were hunters, not warriors. And even warriors would have had no chance against this figure.
Not far from the market square, a woman crouched in a barrel. She held a baby in her arms. Her baby. She was small and petite, but something in her gaze revealed that her fear was not for herself, but only for her child. Her crimson hair stuck to her face from the rain, and her equally crimson eyes sparkled with determination in the darkness.
The baby, on the other hand, had jet-black hair and eyes, as black as the night itself.
The barrel swayed with every gust of wind, but miraculously remained reasonably stable. The mother breathed shallowly, trying to stay calm. And when she looked at her baby's peaceful sleeping face, she gained new courage.
Several minutes passed. Then suddenly there was a hard jolt—and the barrel tipped over.
The mother rolled out, held the baby protectively, and sat up. The wind cut through her skin like blades, every step hurt, blood dripped to the ground. But she held her child close and fought her way through the roaring darkness.
The figure had not yet noticed her escape attempt. The storm and the night concealed them. But this luck would not last long.
Screams were carried by the wind. Some short, some long — some so horrific that the mother inevitably flinched. A particularly loud, unnatural scream echoed through the night, like that of a beast, but she had no time to think about it.
The further she moved away from the center of the storm, the less noticeable the force of the wind became. Finally, she came across a fallen tree stump and sank down exhausted. However, she couldn't afford to take long breaks, she was clearly still too close to the action.
Her baby was unharmed. A faint smile flitted across her face—and something rustled behind her in the bushes.
The mother spun around, but it was a young man.
Kenzo, the blacksmith's eldest son.
"H-Hazu... is that you?"
His voice trembled, his eyes filled with tears.
Hazu nodded, holding the baby close.
Kenzo looked as if he was about to collapse, but Hazu's calm gaze kept him in place.
"Kenzo... what's going on here? Who is this figure?"
He lowered his head, trembling, trying to get the words out.
"He... he killed Father and my brothers. Just like that... and—"
His voice broke. Hazu placed her hand on his cheek.
"Now is not the time for grief. If we want to survive, we have to get to the jetty. Now."
Something in her voice gave Kenzo new courage. He nodded and followed her, but after a few steps he stopped and his legs began to shake.
"He is... a god."
Hazu paused and looked at his face with a feeling of unease.
"A god? This figure?"
Kenzo nodded, holding his shoulder as if suddenly everything hurt.
"He said so himself... when he..."
He fell silent and lost himself in his memories.
He recounted how the god had entered the house and sat down on a chair, looking bored.
"This is getting boring, you know?"
His voice dripped with arrogance.
The local blacksmith, a strong man with short brown hair who had seen many of life's challenges, stepped forward, but he too realized how dangerous the situation was. He tried to remain calm, not out of courage, but out of hope that he could save his family.
"I beg you... we are simple people—"
"Tsk, tsk, tsk."
The god grimaced indifferently and interrupted him.
"You are ants. Nothing more. We should have exterminated you humans in the divine war."
He leaned forward, his disgusting grin returning.
"Well. What do you know about the fragment?"
The blacksmith clenched his fists. He didn't know what the god was talking about either, but he sensed that words would be useless. So he did the only thing he could and perhaps the only thing that would surprise the god.
He grabbed the pot of boiling water he had previously put on to make tea and poured it over the god's head.
A bloodcurdling scream followed — the same one Hazu had heard earlier.
"RUN!" the blacksmith shouted to his sons.
Chaos ensued as everyone tried to escape in any way they could. Kenzo managed to escape because the god was temporarily blinded by the boiling water. But once he was outside, he saw what happened next through the window.
The enemy swept his hand through the air, and the door slammed shut.
The god, now driven and blinded by rage, created razor-sharp wind blades. And then... scream after scream, cut after cut. The bodies of his father and brothers became increasingly disfigured. Slowly, even their faces became unrecognizable, blood splattering all over the room. The only thing Kenzo had in mind now was to run away as far as he could.
Kenzo's body trembled as he told the story. He felt nauseous and was on the verge of vomiting. Hazu could sense that he was about to lose his mind.
She slapped him across the face.
"Focus. We have to keep going."
Kenzo breathed heavily, finally nodded, and followed her.
When they reached the jetty after what felt like an eternity, they stared at the water in disbelief.
Only one boat was left, small and for one person at most. Both immediately understood what that meant. Hazu gently laid her baby aside, her gaze serious and cold.
Kenzo saw his chance, rushed forward frantically, and tried to jump into the boat. But Hazu grabbed his leg and pulled him to the ground.
Words would be useless here. Kenzo was in sheer terror; he would betray her, abandon her, do anything to survive. She hit him several times in the face, Kenzo's nose began to bleed, and her fists were stained with some of that blood. Kenzo struggled, but he never stood a chance against Hazu.
They didn't call her Hazu the Giant Slayer for nothing. She came from Krenatos, a country in the south, consisting of fighters and gladiators, bloodthirsty like no other. The name Giant Slayer did not come from her having killed actual giants, but from her having defeated the strongest, most fearsome fighters in her battles, despite her petite frame. Her innate affinity allowed her to gather this power.
The murderous desire she had once sworn to abandon took hold of her once more. She grabbed Kenzo's arm with a firm grip and broke it effortlessly. His scream echoed across the footbridge. It was this very scream that was carried by the wind and reached the god. By the time Hazu realized this, it was too late. She froze for a moment, but quickly recovered.
She frantically put Kenzo in a headlock. He grabbed her forearms, struggled, scratched, and kicked; his face was filled with fear of death. But his movements grew weaker and his neck cracked.
Silence fell.
Hazu stood up, breathing heavily, and looked at her baby. His innocent gaze softened her heart once more.
But she sensed that the god was approaching. Quickly.
Hazu placed her baby in the boat, took a necklace out of her bag with a dull black crystal that radiated an ominous aura and put it around the child's neck.
She kissed his forehead and looked into his jet-black eyes one last time. Her gaze was tormented, because she didn't really want to leave him alone.
With a broken heart, she grabbed a paddle and pushed the boat away from the jetty with all her strength.
"Please... please take him to safety..."
Her voice was carried away by the wind, in the hope that the darkness of the night would bring him safety.
Now it was up to her to buy time. No matter how much, even if it was only a little. She had no real weapon, only the paddle from earlier. She knew, of course, that her experience and weapon would not be enough to defeat a god. However, she felt no fear or remorse, only radiating a mother's love.
She stood up, ready to fight. However, she noticed that her body was weak, the wounds from the storm's cuts earlier burned in her body. The fight against Kenzo had also exhausted Hazu.
The surroundings were becoming increasingly turbulent due to the storm and there he stood:
The god. The god who had now cold-bloodedly murdered almost every person in this village. He looked deep into her eyes and said:
"You carry the fragment... the fragment of Nozomi's divine soul."
Hazu did not answer. Instead, she lunged at him, paddle raised, and struck with all her might toward the god. He blocked the blow effortlessly with his left forearm, breaking the paddle. Her gaze remained serious; she was not surprised. What could she have expected from a simple paddle? As he swung back to strike, Hazu dodged to the side and threw away the remains of the paddle.
The god grinned like never before that night and opened his mouth:
"Finally, someone with real guts. Tell me your name."
Hazu stared at him coldly. There was no chance she would give him an answer. She still had a goal and she was fully focused on it.
The god grabbed the back of his head with his right hand and looked at her with his usual disgusting grin.
"My name is Noctis of the Storm. For your courage, I grant you a fair fight."
The moment he blinked, Hazu had already disappeared.
She jumped behind him, wrapped her legs around his neck in a stranglehold, spun him around with sheer force, and forced him to the ground. Her face was strained with effort as she squeezed her thighs as tightly as she could.
Noctis laughed.
"You're just another ant."
He freed himself with ease, jumped up, and grabbed Hazu by the throat, lifting her up.
Her vision blurred...
But she looked towards the sea one last time, where her child's boat was hopefully already drifting far away.
Noctis understood what was happening. He hurled her away and flew toward the sea, carried by his storm. This time, he stretched his arm toward the sky differently than before. He swung it toward the ground and the storm obeyed him. Everything near him was whirled up, fish, sea plants, and of course the sea water itself. The sea parted. The seabed became visible.
A wave of destruction that nothing and no one could survive raced across the coast. Noctis continued to rage, completely lost in his lust for destruction. He would not stop this devastation until the sun rose. His crazy laughter could be heard across the entire island.
The next day, the waves calmed down, far away from the island of the massacre. On the shores of Einoji, a distant island nation, the waves washed up a broken boat. Or what was left of it.
For Hazus' last glance as she looked out to sea that night was not in the direction of her child, but deliberately in the opposite direction — giving her child enough time to get to safety.
Two goddesses were walking along the beach. Suzumi, one of the two goddesses with snow-white hair and eyes that sparkled like amethysts in the morning sunlight, suddenly stopped. A soft cry sounded across the beach, and she looked in surprise at Gardenia, her companion.
"Gardenia... do you hear that?"
Gardenia, her companion with chin-length blonde hair and a blindfold, tilted her head and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before looking back with equal surprise.
Suzumi rushed to the wreckage of the boat and saw a baby inside. Its hair and eyes were black as night. A dark crystal hung around its neck. The petals of a nearby cherry tree were carried by the refreshing spring breeze and fell near the boat. Suzumi wondered what a baby was doing so far away on the beach in a broken boat.
Gardenia knelt down carefully to take a closer look at the child.
Suzumi grinned teasingly.
"What are you trying to do? You can't see anything."
Gardenia smiled gently.
"Suzumi... you know that I see in my own way."
Gardenia wore the blindfold because she was blind. However, she could perceive sources of aura and their movements quite accurately. Her divine blessing, which allowed her to control and create plants, helped her do this.
Suzumi tapped her lower lip and looked innocently into the air.
"Oh... that's right. You know, I feel—"
Gardenia interrupted her, her gaze more serious than before.
"I feel that aura too.
We both know what we should do."
Both looked down at the baby with a confident expression on their faces.