If there was one moment that could explain everything, it happened seven days ago on a night that should've been completely normal.
Ash was deep in the wilderness of the Eisenhart Kingdom, inside the Grauzwald Forest—one of the most dangerous places in the world. Even for the strongest swordmaster alive, dying here was easy.
He was just hunting for a late-night meal. His food had run out, so he had no choice but to head into the forest again. Not that he minded. Living alone in the woods, hunting and surviving—it had all become part of who he was now.
Honestly, he enjoyed it way more than his years as a knight.
***
Deep in the forest, thick fog rolled in like a heavy blanket. Ash walked slowly with a massive Shadowmane Lion carcass draped over his shoulder. The beast weighed almost two hundred kilograms, with pitch-black fur and golden stripes. Blood still dripped from the clean cut across its neck.
He shifted the weight easily, his free hand resting near his sword—the blue blade with ice flower carvings.
'Looks like I won't need to hunt for a week.'
He kept walking back to his cabin, following the same path as before. The fog got thicker. Only the sound of his boots on wet ground broke the silence.
Then suddenly—something flew through the air.
Ash ducked immediately. A black ball of light shot past just above his head with a sharp hiss. It hit a tree behind him and exploded in a flash of black flames before going out.
Ash stopped and stayed crouched, eyes locked on where the explosion hit.
'A magician?'
He let the lion carcass slip off his shoulder with a heavy thud. But something felt wrong the moment his hand returned to his sword.
He couldn't feel anything. No presence. No smell. He couldn't even hear breathing.
Ash slowly stood up and scanned the trees around him. Dark shadows moved with the wind, branches rustling quietly.
But there was nobody there.
'That's impossible...'
Ash had spent years on battlefields. He could sense enemies from hundreds of meters away, even behind thick stone walls. But right now, he couldn't sense anyone at all.
Then his instincts screamed danger.
Ash swung his sword to the side, sending out a wave of blue energy. The energy shot forward with a sharp screech and hit a huge tree in the darkness.
CRACK.
The tree split in half and crashed down with a loud boom, sending dust and leaves flying everywhere.
But behind the tree—nothing. Just darkness and the silent forest.
'That was definitely a magician.'
No doubt about it. He'd felt the mana when that black ball flew past. Swordmasters and archmages had fundamentally different energy structures, and Ash could always tell them apart. So why couldn't he sense who cast it.
'Could it be an Archmage?'
The thought hit him hard. Even the best Archmages always left something behind—something small. Ash could always sense it. But not this time.
While he was still thinking, light appeared from everywhere.
Magic symbols floated in the air, made from glowing black lines radiating thick energy. Dozens of them. Hundreds. All pointed at Ash, glowing with clear killing intent.
The black energy was so strong the air around it shook.
Ash didn't move. He stood still while the magic symbols got brighter, closer, then exploded into black energy spears shooting from all directions.
Ash swung his sword. Side to side. Up and down. Every swing cut the spears into pieces of light that disappeared instantly. His blue blade flashed like lightning, each slash leaving trails of frozen light in the air.
But the more he cut down, the more spears came. No stopping. No end.
Anger rose in his chest.
"WHAT'S WRONG, MAGICIAN?!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the trees. "ALL THIS STILL ISN'T ENOUGH TO TOUCH ME!"
He swung again—harder, faster—blue energy bursting from his blade like a storm, ripping through all the remaining spears until there were none left.
Then silence.
Ash stood in the middle of the destruction, breathing a bit hard but his eyes still sharp.
'This magic... it's way too strong.'
He felt something weird in his hand. Ash lifted his palm and saw it shaking slightly. His skin looked fine, but there was a burning feeling inside—like something was trying to eat him from within.
'Dark magic?'
Only one person came to Ash's mind. The only archmage in the world who could use dark magic this powerful—the master of darkness from the Kingdom of Nocterra in the southern continent
Ash grinned and shouted mockingly.
"HEY, OLD MAN! DID YOU FINALLY GROW SOME BALLS TO FACE ME?!"
No answer. Just the wind blowing softly.
Ash frowned.
'He's not answering?'
Weird. That old Archmage always loved talking—ranting, threatening, cursing—even when he was losing. Something was off.
Last time they met five years ago, Ash beat him easily. Even embarrassed him in front of both armies. But now... something was different.
Ash grinned wide, his voice full of cocky mockery.
"WHAT'S WRONG?! DO YOU FINALLY HAVE THE POWER TO GET REVENGE, YOU BED-WETTING COWARD?!"
He raised his sword high and slammed it into the ground.
BOOM.
Blue energy exploded from where it hit, spreading everywhere like a freezing tsunami. Ground. Trees. Air. Everything turned into sharp, shining ice crystals under the moonlight.
In seconds, the forest for meters around became a landscape of beautiful but deadly ice. Sharp crystals stuck up from the ground like giant swords, trees covered in thick ice, even the air froze so much that every breath made thick white clouds.
Ash stood in the middle, eyes narrowed.
"SORRY, OLD MAN. YOU'RE STILL NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO BEAT ME."
Then—laughter echoed through the air.
Terrifying laughter. It came from everywhere—the ground, the sky, every corner of the frozen forest. The sound was low and raspy, not human at all.
Ash spun around immediately, sword ready.
And in front of him—a figure appeared out of nowhere.
Ash froze. This wasn't the old Archmage he fought before. Not even close.
The figure was way shorter, about the size of a teenager. Its whole body was covered in a thick black robe from head to toe. Black energy poured out like smoke, filling the frozen forest.
Ash felt his chest tighten. His breath felt harsh, like poisonous smoke going into his lungs. His legs shook, and he couldn't help bending down a little, even though he fought it with everything he had.
'What... what is this?!'
This wasn't a normal magician's aura. Not even an Archmage's aura. This was something else entirely.
For the first time in his life, the man called The Great, the strongest swordmaster in the world, felt real fear.
His whole body shook. That cocky tone he usually had was gone. Just pure fear.
Ash looked behind the robed figure. The rolling black smoke formed something. A shape. Tall. Crazy tall, rising way higher than the treetops.
A creature with no nose, no mouth. Just two black eyes—empty, like holes that ate all the light.
His instincts screamed at him.
'I'm going to die.'
Ash couldn't look away. His eyes were stuck on that thing, on those black eyes staring at him from the darkness, pulling him in.
Then everything changed.
Suddenly Ash wasn't in the forest anymore. He was somewhere else. A different dimension.
Dark. Empty. No light, no sound, nothing. Just endless darkness.
The air was so heavy that Ash immediately dropped to the ground. His knees slammed down with a dull thud. He tried to get up, but his body wouldn't listen. Something was pushing him down, so heavy his bones felt like they'd break.
Ash's head dropped, forced down.
Then the pain hit.
Blood came from his nose. Blood dripped from his ears. Blood poured from his mouth in thick drops.
It felt like his body was being crushed from the inside. His bones cracked, his muscles seized up, and every breath stabbed into his lungs like knives.
'This... this isn't power a human can have...'
Right then, Ash understood. He knew he should never have looked into those eyes. It was taboo. Like no living thing was ever supposed to see that creature.
He felt power that was completely foreign. Ancient beyond anything. Something that existed before this world was even made. Something that shouldn't exist here.
And he realized—with fear that froze his whole body—that he was staring at something beyond what humans can understand.
Something that only existed in old legends.
Something people called... a god.