The sky burned red the day humanity lost.
Kael stood on a mountain of corpses, his armor shattered, blood freezing against his skin. Demonic flesh steamed under falling ash. The air smelled of iron and sulfur.
Before him stood the Demon Sovereign.
Behind him—
His commander.
Commander Aria Valen.
The woman who had taken in a nameless village boy and forged him into the youngest Sword Saint in history. The woman who never once praised him… but trusted him with the final charge.
Her silver hair was stained crimson. One eye was swollen shut. Yet her spear remained steady.
"Kael," Aria said, her voice calm despite the carnage. "When I give the signal… don't hesitate."
He couldn't answer.
His lungs were full of blood.
They charged together.
Steel and spear tore through demonic flesh. Aura and black flame collided, splitting the earth beneath their feet. The Sovereign roared as Aria's spear pierced its shoulder.
She fought like a falling star.
Unreachable.
Brilliant.
And then—
A claw of black flame drove through her chest.
Time stopped.
Kael's vision blurred.
She didn't scream.
She only looked at him.
"Don't look back," she whispered. "A sword that hesitates… rusts."
Her grip loosened.
Her body fell.
Something inside Kael shattered.
With a sound that was more beast than human, he unleashed everything. The battlefield collapsed under the weight of his aura. Mountains split. Demons evaporated.
The Sovereign died.
So did he.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
Birdsong.
Soft sunlight.
The smell of wet soil.
Kael's eyes snapped open.
No ash. No corpses. No blood.
Just a cracked wooden ceiling.
His childhood home.
His hands were small.
Unscarred.
He stumbled outside.
The same dirt road.
The same broken well.
The same mountains that would one day burn.
Children ran past him, laughing.
He saw his younger self among them.
Alive.
He staggered back.
"No…"
He ran.
Through fields. Past fences. Into the forest's edge.
Until he reached the hill overlooking the village.
He collapsed to his knees.
He was fourteen again.
Four years before the demons descended.
Three years before Commander Aria Valen would pass through this forgotten village recruiting soldiers.
Aria.
Her final words echoed in his skull.
Don't hesitate.
His chest tightened painfully.
Why had he returned?
Why only him?
Why not her?
She was stronger. Smarter. Braver.
He slammed his fist into the dirt.
Last time, he had spent years chasing her back on the battlefield.
Trying to reach her level.
Trying to be worthy of standing beside her.
And when it mattered most—
He had been too weak to save her.
Kael rose slowly.
He knew every major demon incursion.
Every hidden cult.
Every corrupted noble.
Every villain who would one day betray humanity.
He knew their names.
Their faces.
Their deaths.
A quiet, dangerous calm settled over him.
"If you won't return, Commander… then I'll carve the path myself."
He looked toward the forest.
In two weeks, a wandering swordsman would pass through and massacre this village while searching for a relic buried beneath it.
Last time, Kael had survived by hiding beneath corpses.
This time—
He would be waiting.
The wind shifted.
His gaze hardened.
He was no longer the desperate village boy who begged for strength.
He was the Sword Saint who killed the Demon Sovereign.
And this world?
It was still fragile.
"Four years," he murmured.
Four years before the sky fell.
Four years to become strong enough—
Not just to follow her back.
But to stand in front of her.
The first villain was coming.
And Kael—
Would greet him with a blade that had already witnessed the end of the world.