"And then, the knight slew the dragon and climbed the castle to rescue the princess."
A woman's gentle voice filled the small cabin, hidden deep in the frozen northern mountains. Inside, only the crackle of firewood and the soft rustle of ancient book pages dared to accompany her.
With care, the woman—gray eyes and chestnut hair—closed the tome as the tale ended. A tender smile lit her face while she watched the two children sitting on the floor before the hearth. Huddled around the flames, they sought shelter from the cold seeping through the wooden cracks. The little girl listened with utter devotion; the boy, with quiet attention.
The moment the book shut, the girl let out an excited squeal. Her chestnut hair bounced as she jumped up, gray eyes sparkling when they landed on the boy beside her.
"Big brother, if a dragon kidnaps me, you'll come save me like the hero in the story, right?" she asked, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him with childish enthusiasm.
Elia's obsession with tales of knights and damsels in distress had long surpassed mere liking. In this snowbound, isolated world, her older brother was—without question—her absolute hero.
Bael, sharing the same chestnut hair and gray eyes as his sister, clicked his tongue in annoyance and caught her wrists to stop the shaking.
"Stop shaking me, Elia. I've told you a thousand times: those stories are just fantasies for little kids."
Elia pouted indignantly, lips pursed, but she didn't give up. She threw herself at him, ignoring his protests.
"But if it really happened, you would! Right?" she pressed, clutching his wool shirt with tight little fists.
Bael sighed, worn out by her persistence. He knew she wouldn't let up until he answered. Gently, he pried her off and gave in.
"Fine, fine… If a dragon takes you, I'll come rescue you," he muttered in resignation.
Elia squealed again in pure joy and hugged him fiercely, rubbing her cheek against his in playful affection.
"Hehe! I knew my big brother would save me!"
Her laughter echoed off the wooden walls, bringing a burst of warmth to this place so far from the world.
The woman watching from her seat let out a soft chuckle. Seeing her children love each other so innocently was, without doubt, the greatest treasure of her life.
After a few more moments, she stood and clapped her hands sharply.
"Alright, little one. Time for bed."
"Eeeh, Mother, please, just one more!" Elia jumped to her feet and grabbed her mother's hands, pretending to sob with exaggerated drama.
Her mother gave her a gentle tap on the forehead and shook her head firmly.
"No. It's already very late, the fire is dying, and your brother has things to do outside. Bed. Now."
Defeated, Elia covered her forehead with one hand, hung her head, and shuffled toward one of the rooms.
Her mother followed, but just before crossing the threshold, she stopped. The smile vanished from her face, replaced by an icy chill.
"A group approaching from the south. Leave none alive," she said, her voice cold enough to freeze the air.
Bael met his mother's gaze and nodded silently. He watched her enter and close the door.
When the echo of the door faded, only the howl of wind against the walls remained. Slowly, he rose and walked to the wall beside the hearth. There, hanging on rough supports, waited a black-sheathed sword and a reinforced wooden bow. He stared at them for a long moment.
Then he lifted his arm, fastened the sword at his waist. On a nearby table lay arrows and a dagger; he took the dagger, felt the chill of the metal, sheathed it with a precise motion, and adjusted his winter clothes to seal out the cold. With a quiet sigh, he opened the door.
****
The night air slammed into me like an ice wall the instant I shut the door behind me. No matter how many times I stepped out, the contrast between the hearth's warmth and the mountains' freezing breath always made me shiver. I took a few steps forward, snow crunching under my leather boots.
This time I wasn't hunting game for dinner.
I was hunting intruders who had crossed the line and ventured where they didn't belong.
I stopped in the clearing and looked up.
Even though I saw it every night since arriving in this world, the vast sky still stole my breath. A sea of stars stretched overhead, framing two enormous moons that poured silver light across the snow, turning night almost into day.
A soft laugh escaped my lips, forming a plume of vapor. As I slipped deeper into the woods, my thoughts drifted to the past.
From the moment I had memories, I was aware of myself at birth. I knew things no baby should know: that the woman nursing me was my mother, or that slicing someone's throat would kill them.
I've lived here with my mother in this remote place among the mountains.
According to her, we're located north of the Asban Empire.
I don't know my father. Mother never spoke of him, and the few times I asked, she only replied coldly, "You don't have one." It was clear she hated the topic. Maybe he was dead. Maybe he abandoned her before I was born. Eventually it stopped mattering, and I never asked again.
Years later, when I turned five, something even stranger happened: my sister was born. Her arrival was bizarre—I knew women had to be pregnant before giving birth. Yet Mother showed no signs of it. One morning I simply saw her nursing a baby girl. She told me it was my sister, and… I didn't ask further.
A few days after Elia "arrived," Mother began training me in combat. That was when I realized how terrifying she could be beneath that gentle mask.
For some reason, she put me through hell.
When it came to training, she seemed obsessed with making me strong. Sometimes she completely forgot I was just a child.
But what kind of son would want to disappoint his mother? Not me.
At ten years old, Mother captured a bear and brought it home. She said killing it was part of my training. I fought it, pushed my body to the limit in a life-or-death struggle, and awakened my Essence. The smile on her face afterward was the happiest I'd ever seen.
Most people awaken their Essence at twelve. Doing it earlier marks you as a prodigy… and at ten, I made my mother the happiest person alive.
Seeing her happy made me happy too.
Since then I've spent my days hunting beasts in the mountains and training with Mother.
And when necessary, I go out to do what I'm about to do now.
I sighed, realizing I'd walked far enough to reach the deepest part of the forest. Wolf howls and distant beast roars would terrify anyone else, but to me they were just the usual night soundtrack.
As I gazed at the towering ancient trees, I stopped.
Faint whispers carried on the wind reached my ears.
I climbed a tree and, from the branches, spotted them: five men heading north—straight toward my home.
They were large, faces fierce. All five wore beast pelts to ward off the cold.
One carried a bow and walked in the center. Behind him, two moved more slowly: the one on the left held a long sword; the one on the right wielded twin curved daggers.
At the front, two giants cracked the ground with each step. Each carried a massive axe on their back. They were identical—short black hair framing savage faces.
'Probably twins,' the stray thought came.
Doesn't matter.
I whispered to myself.
A grin spread across my face as I sensed their aura. All five radiated the power of Rank 2 Advanced.
Crack
The branch snapped as I launched forward.
In an instant I saw alarm flash across their faces. They tried to react—but it was too late.
My foot crashed into the chest of the right-side giant before he could swing his axe.
BOOM!
The man flew backward, spitting a mouthful of blood.
I stood firm as the snow crunched beneath my boots, the ground itself seeming to groan in protest.
No time to think. The edge of an axe sliced through the air right in front of my eyes. I dropped low in an instant reflex; the blade grazed my hair and hissed past my scalp.
I seized the momentum. Both hands planted in the frozen snow, I snapped a rising kick with every ounce of my body weight.
Bang!
The axe-wielder flew backward like a broken rag doll, slamming into a tree trunk with the dry crack of snapping ribs.
I straightened in the blink of an eye. Before my breathing could steady, an arrow was already locked on my heart.
I snatched it mid-flight with my left hand, fingers clamping down like a steel trap. I poured my essence into the shaft—a cold violet pulse—and hurled it back in a vicious twist toward my left.
The swordsman, already mid-swing with his blade raised high, had no choice but to cross his sword to block it. The metallic clash rang out like a whip crack.
"I've got you," a voice whispered, right against the back of my neck.
The dagger assassin stood there, twin blades aimed straight for my throat.
I didn't flinch.
In a fraction of a second, my silhouette vanished. His daggers sliced through empty air.
An instant later, my own dagger carved a clean arc. The man's head came free with a wet, dull sound. It rolled across the snow, trailing crimson. His body stood frozen for one heartbeat—disbelieving—before collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.
Blood dripped from my blade, heavy warm drops staining the pristine white.
Everything had happened in mere seconds. The forest swallowed every sound, leaving only a crushing silence.
I raised my eyes without a flicker of emotion.
The swordsman stared back and forth between my dagger and his companion's severed head. Confusion clouded his gaze, as though his mind refused to accept what it saw.
The archer hadn't moved since firing that first shot. Pure terror widened his pupils. It wasn't just grief for his friend—it was fear of me. Primal, gut-level dread. He knew death had already arrived, and there was no way out.
Farther back, the twins lay sprawled and broken, chests caved in like they'd been crushed by a giant fist. I didn't need to check. My strikes had been born with lethal intent.
"Why are you attacking us?" the swordsman asked. His voice shook, but the hatred burned hotter than the fear.
I didn't need to think.
"My mother doesn't receive visitors," I answered flatly, voice devoid of any rise or fall.
The words landed like stones in still water.
He opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. His arms trembled harder. Irrational hatred surged, slowly swallowing his terror whole.
"Shit…" he hissed through gritted teeth, the sound raw and furious.
"You attack us… and kill us… just for that?" His voice cracked as it rose. "Just because your mother doesn't like visitors?"
The scream finally tore free—raw, ragged, echoing through the trees.
"You could've told us to leave! This is a goddamn monster forest! We came all this way to hunt—we're not invading anyone's house!"
His fury echoed away, and the heavy silence returned, thicker than before.
I didn't understand what he was talking about.
This place had been my home since I was a child. My mother had turned it into our sanctuary, our territory. It was ours. They were the intruders. End of story.
My patience was running dry.
"My mother's orders are clear," I said without feeling. "If she wants you dead… then you die."
He clenched his fists until his knuckles bleached white. A guttural roar ripped from his throat as he charged.
He was fast. But not fast enough.
His sword came down from above with all his rage. I raised my dagger and met it. The impact exploded a cloud of snow around us.
He staggered back a step from the recoil.
He tried to swing again. I didn't give him the chance.
My dagger sank into his chest with a soft, final sound. His heart stopped instantly. He dropped to his knees, then face-first, staining the snow dark red.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the archer stumbling backward in panic. He spun to run.
I moved.
In the space of a blink, I stood in front of him.
Essence surged into my fist. I drove it straight through his chest.
Bang!
My arm punched clean through him. A gaping, grotesque hole opened in his torso. Blood sprayed backward as his body crumpled, painting the ground scarlet.
Silence again.
I gazed at the five lifeless bodies scattered across the snow—worthless, empty.
I exhaled.
Weak. I hadn't even needed to draw my sword.
I wiped my dagger on the archer's cloak and turned toward home.
The monsters would take care of the remains. I didn't care.
I had fulfilled the order. That was all that mattered.
Now I just wanted to return to my mother.