In a quiet city in Yan, two figures wrapped in rags and layered bandages sat at a small roadside restaurant.
They ate slowly.
Carefully.
Like men who had learned not to draw attention.
Steam curled from their bowls, blending with the hum of the street.
Grrovae'zzeal shifted uncomfortably, adjusting the cloth wrapped around his arms.
[Grrovae'zzeal]: Teacher… do we really have to do this every time we go outside?
A pause.
[Grrovae'zzeal]: The disguises. The hiding.
Across from him, the Scholar didn't look up. He simply lifted his canteen and took a slow drink.
A beat.
[Scholar]: You are supposed to be dead.
Another sip.
[Scholar]: And I am supposed to become dead.
He lowered the canteen, glancing lazily at the street beyond.
[Scholar]: The world has a very poor sense of humor these days.
Grrovae'zzeal hesitated, then leaned forward slightly.
[Grrovae'zzeal]: …What did you do to make the entire world want you dead?
The Scholar went quiet for a moment.
Then—
He smiled.
Not proudly.
Not regretfully.
Just… remembering.
[Scholar]: A great many things.
He tapped the rim of his canteen lightly against the table.
[Scholar]: For example… I once turned the current emperor of Yan gay while he was still a prince.
A pause.
[Scholar]: Then I turned him back.
He shrugged faintly.
[Scholar]: When he was in the middle of enjoying it too much.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
[Scholar]: His sister, Wei, and I laughed for hours after we heard the screaming from the palace.
Grrovae'zzeal blinked.
Slowly.
The Scholar continued, as if discussing the weather.
[Scholar]: I burned the Witch King's library after he crossed a line he should not have.
His tone didn't change.
[Scholar]: Just because Avenger threw himself into the sea to stop the end of the world…
A small pause.
[Scholar]: …does not mean Oathkeepers are easy to bully.
His eyes darkened slightly.
[Scholar]: I made sure of that.
Another sip.
[Scholar]: I also burned a few other places.
He began counting lazily on his fingers.
[Scholar]: Laboratories in Columbia. Ursus. Victoria.
A faint exhale.
[Scholar]: Important ones.
Grrovae'zzeal stared at him now.
The Scholar didn't notice.
Or didn't care.
[Scholar]: I've waded through blood.
A quiet pause.
[Scholar]: Enemy blood.
Another.
[Scholar]: And my own kin.
His voice lowered slightly.
[Scholar]: I had to kill Oathkeepers.
A beat.
[Scholar]: Some were enslaved.
[Scholar]: Some… broken.
His fingers tightened slightly around the canteen.
[Scholar]: Some begged me to end it.
Silence settled between them.
The noise of the street felt distant now.
[Scholar]: There was a laboratory in Ursus.
A longer pause.
His voice grew quieter.
A longer pause.
His voice grew quieter.
Heavier.
[Scholar]: They were trying to create an artificial Oathkeeper.
His gaze drifted somewhere far away.
A beat.
Another.
[Scholar]: Empty eyes.
His grip tightened.
Just slightly.
[Scholar]: That hollow look…
A faint exhale.
[Scholar]: I still remember it.
Silence.
Then—
He lifted the canteen again.
Took a slow drink.
And just like that—
The weight vanished from his expression.
[Scholar]: So yes.
He set it down with a soft click.
[Scholar]: The world has its reasons.
Grrovae'zzeal didn't respond.
He just sat there.
Quiet.
Because for the first time—
He understood.
The disguises weren't caution.
They were merciful.
For those who didn't know better than to anger his teacher.
The Scholar waved a hand dismissively.
[Scholar]: Don't think too much about it.
A pause.
[Scholar]: Almost everyone who ever touched an Oathkeeper… who hurt one…
His tone stayed calm.
Too calm.
[Scholar]: They're gone.
He took another sip.
[Scholar]: Me. Others like me. We made sure of that.
A faint shrug.
[Scholar]: Only a handful remain.
His eyes darkened slightly.
[Scholar]: The ones I chose to forgive.
A beat.
Then—
His fingers tightened around the canteen.
[Scholar]: But there is one…
The air shifted.
[Scholar]: One I will never forgive.
Silence pressed in.
[Scholar]: The one who planted the seed of fear.
CRACK
His hand slammed into the table.
The wood didn't just break—
It collapsed.
The force shattered the structure beneath them, splintering beams and sending a shockwave through the restaurant. The floor caved in, dishes shattered, and the entire front half of the building dipped into a sudden crater.
People screamed.
Dust filled the air.
And in the middle of it—
The Scholar calmly stood up, grabbed Grrovae'zzeal by the collar—
—and picked up the food.
[Scholar]: We're leaving.
Moments later.
A quiet park.
Far from the wreckage.
The two of them sat on a bench as if nothing had happened.
They continued eating.
Grrovae'zzeal hesitated before speaking.
A pause.
[Grrovae'zzeal]: Who made you this angry?
The Scholar didn't answer immediately.
He lifted his canteen—
—and drank all of it in one go.
Then opened another.
Drank half.
Only then did he speak.
[Scholar]: Her name is Kal'tsit.
The way he said it—
Was not loud.
But it carried weight.
A pause.
Another.
[Scholar]: A control freak who once called herself our ally.
His grip tightened slightly around the canteen.
[Scholar]: We trusted her.
A faint, humorless smile.
[Scholar]: That was our mistake.
His eyes grew colder.
[Scholar]: She went to the nations of the world.
[Scholar]: Warned them about us.
[Scholar]: Painted us as monsters.
A slow breath.
[Scholar]: Necessary to eliminate.
Grrovae'zzeal went still.
The Scholar continued.
[Scholar]: And the world listened.
A pause.
[Scholar]: Just like that… Oathkeepers became prey.
A faint, humorless smile.
His voice lowered.
[Scholar]: Driven out of every place we tried to call home.
His gaze drifted forward.
Unfocused.
[Scholar]: She said we were too dangerous to exist.
A faint laugh escaped him.
Cold.
Empty.
[Scholar]: Imagine that.
He looked down at his hands.
[Scholar]: People who swore to protect others…
A pause.
[Scholar]: Reduced to something the world needed to be protected from.
Silence settled between them.
Then—
[Scholar]: She even said we were no longer needed.
A small shake of his head.
[Scholar]: That the world could move forward without us.
His voice softened.
But not with kindness.
[Scholar]: And maybe she was right.
A beat.
His eyes sharpened again.
[Scholar]: But that doesn't mean I'll forgive her.
Silence.
Then his voice lowered—colder than before.
[Scholar]: The only reason there isn't a hole through her skull…
A faint pause.
[Scholar]: …is because she is still important to this world.
His fingers tightened slightly.
A breath.
[Scholar]: I would have taken everything from her.
His gaze drifted, distant.
[Scholar]: Everyone she loves.
[Scholar]: Everyone she trusts.
[Scholar]: Everyone she believes she can protect.
A longer pause.
[Scholar]: And I would have left her alive.
His voice did not rise.
That made it worse.
[Scholar]: In agony.
A faint exhale.
[Scholar]: The same way she left me.
Silence.
Then—
He closed his eyes briefly.
When he spoke again, the anger was still there—
But buried beneath something older.
Heavier.
[Scholar]: …But I am not her.
A beat.
[Scholar]: And her time is already approaching.
A faint, humorless smile.
[Scholar]: I might even open a bottle of wine when the Priestess turns her to dust.
The wind shifted softly through the park.
Then his voice changed again.
Quieter.
Almost like reciting something carved into his bones.
[Scholar]: When the last Great Oath is born…
A pause.
[Scholar]: By the wish of a foolish Sacrifice—
His gaze lifted slightly.
[Scholar]: The Demon King will lose his crown.
[Scholar]: And the sun will set in red.
A breath.
[Scholar]: Painted by the blood of the land itself.
Silence settled.
Heavy.
Unmoving.
Then—
A faint, almost relieved exhale.
A small glance to the side.
[Scholar]: Good thing, we have a smart girl named Sacrifice.
A beat.
[Scholar]: Not a foolish real one.
Another pause.
[Scholar]: Let us hope it stays that way.
His expression dimmed slightly.
[Scholar]: Oathkeepers are nearly gone.
A quiet breath.
[Scholar]: Seven remain on this land.
His grip tightened.
[Scholar]: Including me.
A longer pause.
[Scholar]: And five of them…
His voice lowered to a near whisper.
[Scholar]: Are already dying.
A pause.
Then, almost as an afterthought—
[Scholar]: I only hope my wife dies faster than the rest.
Grrovae'zzeal froze mid-bite.
Slowly… he lowered his food.
His eyes widened.
A beat.
[Grrovae'zzeal]: You're married?
The Scholar didn't even look at him.
[Scholar]: Of course.
He took another calm sip from his canteen.
[Scholar]: I was around before trees.
A small pause.
[Scholar]: Did you think I would remain alone all that time?
Grrovae'zzeal stared at him, trying to process.
A flicker of realization.
[Grrovae'zzeal]: You've mentioned her before…
A longer pause.
Then—
Scholar nodded.
[Grrovae'zzeal]: …Is it the Priestess?
The Scholar snorted.
Actually snorted.
[Scholar]: Absolutely not.
A faint shake of his head.
[Scholar]: Though she will be the one to kill her.
Silence.
Grrovae'zzeal's face slowly drained of color.
[Grrovae'zzea]: Then that means…
A beat.
He swallowed.
[Grrovae'zzeal]: …It's Kal'tsit.
The Scholar closed his eyes briefly.
Not in denial.
In confirmation.
[Scholar]: Unfortunately… yes.
The word lingered.
Heavy.
Final.
A quiet breath left him.
[Scholar]: I should have listened to Avenger.
A pause.
[Scholar]: I should have remained a Sage.
Grrovae'zzeal blinked, still trying to recover.
[Grrovae'zzeal]: …What is a Sage?
The Scholar opened his eyes again.
His face turned red from embarrassment.
For once—
There was no anger in them.
No sarcasm.
Just something distant.
[Scholar]: A mistake that learns to stop interfering.
A faint, bitter smile.
[Scholar]: Someone who sees the world…
A pause.
[Scholar]: Understands it…
Another.
[Scholar]: And chooses to do nothing.
He leaned back slightly.
[Scholar]: No oaths.
[Scholar]: No burdens.
[Scholar]: No attachments.
A quiet exhale.
[Scholar]: Just observation.
Silence settled between them.
Then—
[Scholar]: Avenger called it freedom.
A beat.
His gaze drifted toward the horizon.
[Scholar]: I called it cowardice.
Another pause.
A faint, almost amused smile.
[Scholar]: I'm not so sure which of us was right.
He lifted the canteen and took a long drink.
A quiet pause followed.
Then—
[Scholar]]: Tell me…
He glanced sideways at his student.
[Scholar]: Do you think starting an idol group is a good idea?
Grrovae'zzeal didn't even hesitate.
[Grrovae'zzeal]: Teacher… I know those canteens only have tea in them.
A beat.
[Grrovae'zzeal]: You're not drunk.
Silence.
Then—
The Scholar froze.
Very slowly, a grin spread across his face.
A breath.
Then he burst out laughing.
He wiped at his eye, still chuckling.
[Scholar]: Saving you, kid… might have been one of the best decisions I've ever made.
He stood up, stretching lazily as if the conversation hadn't just carried the weight of centuries.
[Scholar]: Come on.
He turned, already walking.
[Scholar]: Let's go home.
A small pause.
[Scholar]: We've got lessons to finish.
Another step.
[Scholar]: And far too many things left to do.
Grrovae'zzeal quickly gathered their things and followed.
The park returned to quiet behind them—
As if nothing had ever happened.
[Chapter End]
[Sage = understands everything, does nothing]
[Oathkeeper = acts, suffers, gets destroyed]
[Here is the full prophecy: When the last Great Oath is born… By the wish of a foolish Sacrifice, the Demon King will lose his crown. And the sun will set in red. Painted by the blood of the land itself. It will carry the last oath that will bring the end to the light of the end.]
[Note: Who is the Sacrifice {Not our MC}]