I rode in the carriage alone.
Two soldiers had been assigned to escort me to the North, nothing more. No attendants. No servants. Just silence and the steady creak of wheels.
As the carriage moved, my thoughts drifted to the land I was born in—the continent of Ethins.
Ethins was surrounded by the ocean on three sides, with massive mountain ranges sealing the North like a natural wall. Beyond those mountains lived demons and countless monsters. Sometimes they crossed over—not always for war, but for survival or trade.
I remembered my grandfather's words clearly.
"Demons are not evil. They are no different from humans—just people with their own culture."
The continent itself was divided into powers that maintained a fragile balance.
Two empires stood at the top:
The Holy Empire of Chogauth, and the Imperial Dominion of Drakoryn.
Between and around them were three major kingdoms:
Chankarnak, known for its cavalry and monster forces;
Lodina, ruled by counselors and scholars devoted to magic;
And my homeland—Manderana.
Each had its strengths. Each had weaknesses. There had been no great continental war for a long time—only small internal conflicts and border skirmishes. No one could afford to upset the balance. Too many depended on it.
Lost in thought, I barely noticed when we reached the North.
It was already afternoon when the carriage stopped for a short rest. We ate a quick lunch. On my birthday, no less.
The same hard bread and salted jerky the soldiers ate.
That morning, my mother had slipped a few pieces of candy into my pocket. My sister had quietly pressed ten gold coins into my hand as a present. I ate slowly, then the journey continued.
By nightfall, we arrived at the mansion assigned to me.
It was large—but abandoned. Empty. Much like myself.
One of the soldiers explained that nearby villagers were using parts of the mansion as storage for food and ores. They would clear it out in the morning. For now, I was told to sleep in one of the rooms.
Dinner was no different from lunch.
My stomach remained half-empty.
That night, hunger kept me awake. I stumbled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen, carrying a candle. I searched for anything edible—and found fresh meat, red and uncooked.
I didn't know if it was because I was starving or because I couldn't see properly in the dim light.
I cooked a small portion, telling myself I would only eat a little. It wasn't mine, after all.
I ate it with my bread.
Still hungry, I returned to bed.
Morning never truly came for me.
I woke up coughing—blood spilling from my mouth. My body burned with fever, pain tearing through my chest. One of the guards came to wake me and froze at the sight of me.
He shouted for the other guard and immediately ran to the village to bring a priest.
In those moments, I thought it would be easier to die than to keep living like this.
When the priest arrived, he took one look at me and understood everything.
Monster meat.
High-grade poison. Dense miasma. Lethal to humans.
He was shocked that I was still alive.
The priest healed me and charged two gold coins for the treatment.
When he learned of my Poison Immunity, he nodded in understanding.
"That's the only reason you survived," he said before leaving. He warned me to rest for several days.
The guards looked pale as they explained that the meat had been stored temporarily before being sent to magicians and scholars for research.
By afternoon, the guards informed me that their duty was complete. Before they left, I gave each of them one gold coin.
I asked them not to tell my mother what had happened.
She would only panic more.
When they departed, I was alone again in the mansion.
As evening fell, I decided to begin Beast Breathing.
If I was to survive, I needed strength.
As I focused, I felt something stir in my abdomen—my dark aura. For the first time, I could clearly sense it.
And within it, I saw something else.
A faint, dark-red hue mixed into the black.
It pulsed with heat.
I panicked.
That color—
It was miasma.