Dear Grandpa,
It's Apex again. I ended up back in the forest.
Don't worry—I didn't run away or break Rose's heart.
Something did happen to Rose, though. It was… complicated.
The urgent matter right now is the Mad King finding out about Rose's… demise.
I always knew he was crazy, but this time he went so far there's no coming back.
He attacked Oma, wiped out the kingdom's entire army, and now he's headed for the forest.
I'm guessing that fool Yuda dropped a hint he shouldn't have.
Oh well. What a pity.
I left me no choice but to kill Zefar.
I wouldn't say I hated him, but Rose respected him for some strange, infuriating reason.
Even hearing his name pissed me off. I felt more comfortable pretending to enjoy conversations with Yuda than listening to Rose speak of Zefar.
I once asked why she revered him so much. She told me he was misunderstood.
She called Zefar "the boy born with no love who cared."
It would've sounded sad if it didn't belong to a complete psycho.
This man was a trained killer, raised by a father he literally called the Father of Murder.
Could you blame me for expecting nothing good from the Son of Murder?
And he said some shady things too. He claimed he "policed" some shiny empire called Babel and had supposedly fought for world peace for exactly 999 years.
What a joke.
This hypocrite was enjoying his family legacy of warmongering and land-grabbing.
His ancestors all wore the same weird mask—so how could he be immortal if he never showed his face to prove he hadn't aged a day?
I saw through his façade while everyone else called him a hero.
He was violent and, if I'm quoting Rose correctly, "kind but wicked, good but a necessary evil."
Who did they think he was—the Evil Messiah?
I let out a long sigh when I finally spotted Zefar and his Slayers entering the jungle.
I watched them undetected from the highest treetops and called my favorite raven, George.
"George, go tell the others—it's time to feast."
The extinguished, 'kind but wicked' Zefar
finally came to Oma. It was a day I dreaded and a dawn Rose predicted.
Ten years of peace.
Ten years of keeping your death a secret.
Ten years of Oma being safe and hidden.
And then Zefar—being the bloodthirsty king he was, declared war on us.
He found our kingdom in no time. His Slayers stormed in like we were nothing.
Then he had the nerve to walk into my jungle of monsters, convinced he was hunting me—when he had already become prey.
In the Forest of Predators, no man walks in and leaves alive if I am the one they seek.
As I stretched, ready to butcher some Slayers, I saw George returning with entire swarms behind him.
Finally, I could move through the treetops hidden by the shadows of my ravens and their screeches.
Down below, my wolves—led by Trevor,
were already circling our enemies.
Wallace the snake and his friends hid on the bark of trees, waiting to strike anyone foolish enough to climb.
Welcome to my domain, Zefar.
I hope Yuda warned you it was a living nightmare. Burying your Slayers will be the least of your problems.
I leapt from branch to branch, tree to tree, until I spotted two clueless Slayers.
I dropped like an eagle—two axes in hand—and cleanly beheaded one before he even blinked.
I barely made a sound. His friend still thought he was alive.
The headless body's blood splattered across my chest and face, and I didn't flinch.
The surviving Slayer chatted like nothing had happened:
"Can you believe we're hunting some wild savage? What kind of man lives in a forest like this?"
I smiled and answered,
"The Apex."
He whirled around and saw my back turned, his friend's headless body beside me, and a wolf dragging the severed head away.
He staggered back, fumbling for his sword.
"Who are you!? What are you!?"
He was so focused on me he didn't notice the snake behind him. The serpent struck,
fangs in his neck, venom flooding his blood. Then it slipped back into the bark like it never existed.
He touched the bite and dropped to his knees. I finally turned to face him.
Pathetic.
Was this supposed to be one of Victor's deadly Slayers?
I squatted down and explained what the venom was doing to him.
"You're getting an easy death. The venom rarely kills. You'll lose your sight, your voice, and then your ability to move. Don't worry,
you don't need eyes for what's coming."
My wolves were already circling. He tried to scream but managed only a weak cough.
The wolves began tearing into him. The pain forced a real scream from his throat—until a raven swooped in and ripped out his exposed voice box.
Another Slayer drew a sword behind me.
Again, I didn't turn. Two ravens shot for his eyes. He dropped his blade, panicking.
I moved with inhuman speed, swinging for his head as he begged:
"Please—end me quickly! I don't want to be eaten alive!"
I almost pitied him.
He covered his face like that could save him. Insulting. Did he think I was ugly?
One clean swing took both his hands off. Before he could scream, I clamped his mouth shut and let the ravens pluck his eyes out.
I kicked him against a tree. A serpent found his throat. When its venom left him blind, mute, and limp, the wolves came for their final meal.
When they were done, only bones remained.
Fun as that all was, only one prey mattered to me:
Victor Zefar,
King of the Slayers.
I soon found the great Zefar. He turned out to be a bigger menace than I anticipated. He even killed Wallace the snake.
Of course, I was going to make him pay.
George and his brave ravens blocked Zefar's view as I closed in for the killing blow.
I couldn't help remembering the day Rose told me you wanted Zefar to be Oma's godfather.
I was disgusted and visibly angry, but Rose kept insisting an alliance between Babel and Oma would change the world.
She hoped I could put aside my hate and raise Oma with the help of Zefar — to reach that so-called glorious new height.
She called it a worldwide liberation. She imagined the end of tyrants, yet she failed to see the worst tyrant of all: her respected Victor.
I'm sorry, but I couldn't spare this killer. He had to die.It was the only way Oma could truly rise higher than any kingdom.
I was already mid-air, axes drawn, ready to strike the King of Slayers. As my blades touched his glass mask, I suddenly heard the sound of thunder. Something struck me hard.
It made me miss by inches and sent me plummeting from the treetops to the ground. That fall should have crippled anyone.
What hit me?
I wasn't sure, but blood was pouring from my chest. Something hot and metallic was lodged in my flesh. What kind of weapon moved with the speed of thunder and took me out with one hit?
Zefar definitely knew — he was staring down at me from the treetops.
I whistled, giving George one job.
There was one Slayer we'd missed, and he was hiding in the sky.
I put a death sentence on that idiot and, I sent George to deliver it.