Beginning of Shadows
Inside me, I wondered: what is the thing a guilty person fears more than anything?
Is it being caught and having all their crimes exposed?
Or being abandoned?
Or losing all the possessions they gained through their sin?
No, these are not the things he fears.
It is death — yes, death is what he fears. This belief remained entrenched: that only the guilty and weak-willed fear death. Yet the weakness of this world's essence, the erosion of its principles, and their eventual collapse made fear not limited to anyone — neither the guilty nor the innocent. Perhaps what I saw is the greatest proof of that.
In another place in this world
Amidst the crowd that spread across every corner of the kingdom, the young Loren walked without any concern for those around him, nor for the looks directed at his dirty clothes, unkempt hair, or strange gait.
"Only ten days left until the Founding Anniversary."
I am still not ready for the test. I trained all year, so why can't I control my sword and my power?
I must calm down. The knighthood test only happens once a year.
I felt my vision weaken! Why can't I see clearly? Damn, I am truly tired. Nothing comes to mind, only sleep. I think of jumping onto my bed when I get home. I don't care if the bed collapses, I just want to sleep.
And yet, in front of me, I glimpsed a strange red hand.
What is this hand?
It is the first time I've seen something so strange.
And when I approached, it was gone. Am I imagining it? Impossible. Even if I haven't slept a full day, nothing suggests I could see that hand with such realism.
I decided to ignore it, but suddenly, without any prior warning, I saw everyone without eyes.
Wha… wha… what is this?
How… and with the sudden appearance of that scene, it also suddenly disappeared.
Should I be shocked by what I saw or continue as if nothing happened? What should I do, for example? Should I scream or run away? Everyone would see me as crazy. So I decided to continue as if nothing had happened.
While thinking about what would happen at the Founding Anniversary, Mr. Haroun, who had just reached seventy-six years of age, passed by my side.
I wanted to greet him, but I was embarrassed by my foul smell. I should have bathed before going out, or my appearance, which suggested I was a homeless person, would embarrass me.
"Hello, Mr. Haroun."
"Loren, I haven't seen you for several weeks. Are you ready, Loren? Not much time left. Ten days and your knighthood test will begin." Mr. Haroun asked in his weak voice, fatigue evident on his face.
It was good that he didn't focus on my back. Nevertheless, as usual, Mr. Haroun had to ask about my readiness for the knighthood test.
"Don't worry. I have prepared strongly, but I am still nervous. This test coincides with the Founding Anniversary, so it will be harder than the previous ones."
Haha, I lied. I am not ready for the test. I am sorry, Mr. Haroun. I will disappoint you.
The old Haroun smiled, knowing I was lying, wanting to reassure me. "Don't worry, Loren. I too have suffered." The old man couldn't finish his sentence before fear painted itself on my face.
Some blood splattered into my right pupil as Mr. Haroun's head vanished before me.
I couldn't stop; I left his body to fall to the ground and ran immediately without knowing the cause of his death.
I do not know what is happening, but the crowds intensified and began fleeing with me.
Some tried to hide, but anyone who jumped into a pit was buried inside it. Soon everyone tried to escape through the streets, but their heads were high and their bodies dead. There was no chance to escape.
"What is happening?" Fear took control. There was no time to think, no chance to make an alternative decision — only fear, panic, and running. "Why are people falling everywhere?"
The sky darkened over that land, the ground shook, and at the same time, as the sky darkened, the earth began to crack, swallowing everyone who tried to flee.
I ran at maximum speed. If I slowed even for a moment, the pit would swallow me.
But amidst my escape, I saw a terrifying sight.
From nowhere, drops of blood covered the sky. Silence fell, and questions multiplied inside me.
What are these drops? How did they appear? What will happen? And the answer to my questions came: the drops extended like sharp swords, piercing the bodies of the humans standing before them.
"Run!"
Everyone in that place shouted, their voices calling for flight.
"What is this, by the heavens?"
As I moved away, and escaping became easier, a lady whose face was pale with fear fell before me. I fell as well. What happened to Mr. Haroun happened to her: her head was cut off, and at the same moment, my legs were severed.
I collapsed to the ground, unable to move, screaming from pain and despair. Grief overtook me; my chance of survival was gone. Minutes ago, I had a glimmer of hope, but because of a simple mistake — focusing on something other than fleeing — that hope was buried.
"Damn, I don't want this. I don't want it. I don't want to die." I began crying until my tears reddened my eyes. Now I knew I would die.
I simply didn't feel my legs. I didn't know whether I was crying from the pain and loss of my legs or from what would happen to me.
I couldn't think when I felt something sharp pierce my chest. Looking down, the drops penetrated my body. I truly began to feel nothing; it was just a sting. Before I could close my eyes, I saw the corpses around me laughing without eyes, as if telling me that what I saw was not a hallucination…
With that, Loren fell to the ground as a lifeless corpse. With him ended his burdens and the hopes he had built throughout that year.
And even with Loren's death, not everything ended.
Hundreds of corpses fell upon him, those who tried to do what Loren had intended.
"It's not a natural disaster."
They shouted, unable to believe what they saw: the ground collapsing, the light disappearing, fires rising, people falling and dying.
Moments later, everyone who ran toward the exit had their bodies explode, torn into pieces, falling with their peers.
Those who sat trying to protect their families had their souls corrupted, their essence spoiled, their humanity lost, and those they tried to protect killed.
Those who grabbed their swords in panic, attempting to flee and protect themselves, found themselves moments later killing themselves with their own blades, unconsciously. Their bodies rebelled against their will, shedding their blood with their own hands.
But that was not the worst part.
During their escape, masks fell from their faces, revealing their true selves. Mothers abandoned their children they claimed were their dearest; fathers forgot their families they had vowed to protect; friends betrayed friends who had spent half a lifetime with them; brothers abandoned brothers they had boasted of in hopes of their survival.
To save themselves, their values, morals, and principles collapsed. They abandoned their responsibilities, the most important things in their lives. What happened was not an ordinary disaster but a human collapse, where humans forgot they were human.
Meanwhile, some went mad and pressed their own fingers with force against their other hands, scratching their bodies until their flesh flew off and immediately rotted.
Yet, this did not end with their death; they were no longer human.
Their limbs grew, their thin fingers elongated in a terrifying and grotesque way. Their necks and feet twisted, their teeth grew larger and sharper.
They became ravenous monsters, devoid of reason, moving randomly like dolls, devouring those of their own kind.
Anyone who saw them screamed in terror, repeating the word: "Monsters?" To them, anything that defies logic is a monster. If they forget their own people, they forget those around them.
Amidst all these rapid events, which the mind could not comprehend, they laughed — not for no reason, but because there was no escape. The more they laughed, the crazier they became, no longer knowing if they were human or monsters.
"No! I don't want to die, not yet! Brother, save me… Kyaaaghgh!"
At that moment, the bell rang, announcing the destruction. The nobles committed suicide, fearing they would meet the same fate as the others. The gates closed with blood and corpses of the inhabitants. The last chance to escape vanished. Flags fell, buildings collapsed, and order disappeared. What remained of this kingdom were cries for help, seemingly unanswered.
As the cries rose, the souls, writhing in pain, tried to escape, but bloody hands grabbed them, refusing to let them flee.
Far from that destroyed land
In a dark, gloomy forest, a mysterious figure wearing a Ronin hat made of straw, his face hidden in shadow, with a black katana sheath at his waist, weak and frail, yet with a strange shadow, walked slowly among the massive trees toward a distant village, elevated above the ground. From around it emanated a bright gray light, attracting non-human creatures.
End of Chapter