Dathweet Redsol stirred awake, dazed.
"Where… am I?"
Before him stretched a desolate land—scorched grey grass, no sound but the whisper of wind.
A voice echoed in his head, clear as if whispering beside his ear.
Ken:
(Hello, Edie… or rather, Dathweet. You should get used to your new name.)
Startled, Dathweet stumbled to his feet.
"Who's there!? Who's talking!? What the hell is going on?"
Ken:
(I live inside your head, Dath. I'm your alternate personality.)
Dathweet:
"Alternate personality…? I don't understand… I don't remember anything… Why am I here?"
As he tried to process it all, a man appeared in the distance—tall, calm steps, black suit, violet eyes, cold expression.
Ras:
"You're awake."
Dathweet:
"Who are you?"
Ras: (softly)
"I'm your father."
Dathweet froze.
Another name flashed across a fragmented memory:
Roock.
Wasn't Roock his father?
But as he tried to recall, pain shot through his chest.
His head throbbed.
The more he tried, the worse it hurt.
Without warning, Ras took out a syringe and injected it into Dathweet's arm.
Dathweet: (screaming)
"What did you do to me?!"
His body convulsed.
His green hair slowly turned pitch black.
Right eye—violet. Left eye—red.
Veins surfaced. His body changed, piece by piece, as if "remembering" itself.
Ras pulled a small mirror from his coat and held it before him.
Ras:
"This… is who you truly are."
Dathweet looked into the mirror.
The person reflected… wasn't him.
And yet the eyes—those eyes—were unmistakable.
It was him—or some part of him that remained.
Dathweet: (whispering)
"I'm Edie Spiwell… right? Or… was I never really him?"
Ras stepped closer, his gaze as cold as the air around them.
Ras: (slowly, clearly)
"Hakan… Jinna."
Dathweet stood still. Just two names. But his eyes welled up. He couldn't stop it. His lips trembled. His hands clenched. His chest ached. Every severed thread of emotion seemed ready to burst from his ribs.
He collapsed, biting his lip as if trying to swallow the pain.
Ras stood still, unmoved.
Ras:
"Calm now? Let me tell you… everything."
He looked Dathweet in the eyes.
Ras:
"Your real name is Dathweet. You're not Rook's biological child.
I swapped you with Rook's own son, who had a congenital heart defect.
Because you are… my illegitimate son.
If I'd brought you home, my wife would have had you killed.
I also had to hide you from someone even more dangerous—Palic Redsol, or Two X.
Palic is your mother's younger brother.
Your uncle.
And the one who killed your mother.
He wants to eat you.
To attain immortality.
But to perform the ritual, your body must die slowly and painfully… or you must commit suicide.
The requirement is that you suffer, feel hatred, and bear Redsol blood.
Palic has been manipulating you from the start.
The divorce of your parents.
Getting kicked out of your home.
Meeting Hakan.
And hiring Jinna to destroy you in despair…
That's why he helped Sill, and protected her."
Ras paused, watching Dathweet silently.
Dathweet: (voice low, eyes downcast)
"At first, it hurt. I was angry. Full of hatred. But in the end… I just feel tired. Empty. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't understand myself. I don't even know… why I still exist."
Ras: (softly)
"Some people spend their whole lives just trying to understand themselves. You… don't have to. Just live. Live in a way that makes you happy."
Ken: (gently in his head)
(He's right.)
Dathweet:
"Wait… do you know why I can hear a voice in my head?"
Ras:
"Ah… that's your alternate personality—Ken. He was born from your pain. When you find happiness again… he'll disappear."
Ken: (chuckling)
(I'm like a shield. Born to protect you from being hurt. That's all.)
Dathweet:
"But how do you know Ken?"
Ras:
"Because during the one year you were unconscious, Ken used your body to survive."
Dathweet: (shocked)
"One year? I've been unconscious for a whole year?"
Ras: (nodding)
"Yes. You were stabbed with a dagger made from dark tree. It didn't just hurt your body… it corroded you. Luckily, Ken appeared just in time. He has fast healing abilities—and he can heal you, the original personality."
Dathweet: (murmuring)
"…Who was Jinna?"
Ras:
"I don't know her true identity. All I know is she's part of an organization called The Show—a group of performers and killers. Those who love to act, act. Those who love to kill, kill. And those who love both… well, you saw."
Dathweet:
"Then why did she stab me and throw me into the river?"
Ras: (calmly)
"Because I told her to."
Dathweet: (choked voice)
"You… did?"
Ras:
"Yes. That was a job Palic commissioned—couldn't be avoided. If I stopped her, he'd suspect something. And when he suspects… he acts. Then you'd definitely be dead."
Ras:
"But I was already waiting in the river. The moment you fell, I rescued you."
Dathweet: (gasping)
"So… you knew in advance?"
Ras:
"Yes. I waited for that exact second. If I had missed it by even a moment… you wouldn't be here."
Dathweet:
"Why… would you help me? I'm just… your illegitimate son."
Ras: (quiet, hoarse voice)
"I can be ruthless to the world. But not to my own blood. You were born from a moment of happiness between me and your mother. It was wrong… because it was an affair. But I never saw you as a mistake. I promised your mother… I would protect and care for you. I can give you everything… I just haven't fulfilled my duty as a father."
Silence.
It was as if the room stopped breathing after Ras's final confession.
But it was Dathweet who broke the stillness.
Dathweet: (low voice)
"You're the head of a powerful family—strong enough to rival even the ten great clans. Yet you hide in the shadows. Why haven't you destroyed him?"
Ras: (sighing)
"Because he has his own organization—Red. An underground network filled with people embedded in the government. Touching him is difficult. His movements are unpredictable. He switches jobs constantly, erases all traces. Killing him… was never easy."
Dathweet:
"Then… what do you think I should do now?"
Ras:
"Maybe… leave this country. Live abroad for a while. Experience life. Heal. Palic only operates here, so you'll be safer."
Dathweet: (nodding)
"I think… I should start a new life. Which country should I go to?"
Ras: (smiling)
"You're standing on the land of Holid—home of the Fion people."
Holid was a nation of the Fion—distinguished by one trait: every member of their race bore horns. No other race had this trait. It was also home to the finest swordsmanship schools in the world. Many swordsmen came here to learn. Peaceful, quiet—a perfect place to heal.
Dathweet: (gazing at the blue sky)
"Holid's nature is beautiful. I thought this was the Elf lands… Good thing it's not. That country's in civil war—never-ending conflict."
Ras: (chuckling)
"I'm not crazy. I chose this place because it's quiet enough for you to start over."
Ras led Dathweet to a small village near the border of Holid—a place known as the land of healing. The village nestled in a valley, its air fresh all year round, with vibrant flowers and a stream that murmured beneath the sky.
Dathweet's eyes lit up. "I'll live here? It's beautiful…"
Ras nodded with a smile. "The people here are very friendly, especially to outsiders. I've already rented a small house for you."
"Will you be leaving soon?" Dathweet asked.
Ras's voice turned heavy. "Yes… I've already delayed my work for several weeks to take care of you. I'm sorry, but there are still responsibilities I must carry."
Dathweet shook his head, smiling lightly. "It's fine. Honestly, I prefer living without a parent hovering over me anyway."
"If you have questions, just ask Ken," Ras added. "I've taught him a lot—knowledge, information, things you might need."
Ken spoke softly in his head. (That's right. Just ask.)
"Are you hungry?" Ras asked.
"Not really… I haven't eaten in a year, what's a little longer?"
"Come. I'll take you to your house."
They walked down a stone-paved path, chatting as they went.
"You used to be an advisor to the king, right? Rumors say… you were the true ruler behind the throne," Dathweet said.
Ras chuckled. "Back then, I did crave power. The former king was an idiot—always listening to sweet words from corrupt ministers, easily manipulated. So I acted. In the name of justice, I helped him purge them. After that, he trusted me completely. I planted in his mind: 'Only Ras should be listened to.' And then… he became completely dependent on me."
"Sounds simple. Maybe I should try it?" Dathweet smirked.
"It's not that easy. The current king—Lion—is unreadable. He's surrounded by a team of expert advisors from every field."
"So… where's the former king now?" Dathweet asked.
"Nowhere," Ras said calmly. "Lion and I killed him."
Dathweet laughed—half amused, half bitter. Ras, as always, remained composed, as if recounting a news story. Nothing startled him. No power seemed unfamiliar. Only the things he had done, was doing, and would certainly continue to do.
As they continued walking, something stirred in Dathweet's mind.
"I… have a sibling, don't I?"
Ras looked up at him. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm not sure… I just remember seeing a memory—of a family with a father, a mother, and two children. Me and a little sister. That memory… felt beautiful, even though I never lived in it."
"Perhaps it's your mind's way of coping," Ras said. "Sometimes trauma creates false memories to help us endure reality. But… your question is right. You do have a sister. A twin."
"Really…?" Dathweet whispered.
"Her name is Luna. I sent her to a coven of witches—because she inherited my latent magical genes. Your grandmother was a witch. And Luna… could use ice magic since she was very young. The last time I visited that coven, the place was gone. No one remained. I searched the entire country—no trace. My only guess is… they moved abroad."
"I'm not sure… I just remember she had an aura like someone from a frozen land," Dathweet murmured.
Ras nodded. "Very likely. Her body is cold. Ice magic… is her instinct."
A few more steps and they stopped.
Before them stood a small two-story house nestled among lush trees. Sunlight glinted off the gray-tiled roof, creating a cozy scene—like a whole different world from the darkness Dathweet had known.
"Here's your house," Ras said. "Two floors should be enough, right?"
"More than enough," Dathweet replied.
Ras's voice lowered. "Then… I'll be going. There's still much to handle. I can't stay long."
"It's okay. I don't feel abandoned or anything. You can go," Dathweet said.
"Then… goodbye, Dathweet."
Ras slowly disappeared down the stone path, his figure growing smaller, eventually vanishing behind the pines.
Dathweet stood watching, a hollow feeling swelling in his chest. After all… he was someone who once craved the warmth of family.
Ken whispered softly in his mind. (There's a saying I like: 'Children with painful pasts spend their whole lives healing.' Don't you think that's true?)
Dathweet exhaled. "Maybe…"
He stepped into the house. Everything was quiet, filled with the scent of fresh wood. He lay down on the second-floor bed, planning to rest for a while.
Ken teased. (Already going back to sleep after just waking up?)
"I'm just relaxing. Thinking a little," Dathweet replied.
Ken said, (Thinking? Don't spiral into negativity. Ever heard of the law of attraction? If you keep thinking negatively, bad luck follows. Think positively—maybe you'll attract some luck.)
Dathweet smiled sadly. "I know… Hakan used to say the same thing to me."
There was a long silence. Then Ken whispered, (I'm sorry… I didn't mean to make you sad.)
"It's okay. Tell me something interesting," Dathweet said.
Ken's voice brightened. (Alright! Let me tell you some history!)
Dathweet chuckled. "Sure."
Ken spoke quickly, like a student sharing secrets. (The Show—the assassination-performer group—was originally founded 200 years ago by Shenvar Redsol. He created them for intelligence gathering and assassinations. After his death, the organization became independent.)
Dathweet sat up. "Shenvar… also a Redsol? Wait—is he Shenvar 'God of the Century'?"
(Exactly. But he didn't use the Redsol name. He called himself 'The God'. After all, he was the most powerful man of his era. Bit of arrogance was to be expected. Your family has had two others crowned as kings in history. One was renamed Blackrise Redsol—the Demon Swordsman. The other was a nameless king, erased from records—Dasoul Redsol. Both wore the crown. But the royal court erased all trace of Redsol blood from the throne to retain power.)
Dathweet's eyes widened. "My family… was really that strong."
(Of course. And that's not all. Every hundred years, a Redsol is born who changes the course of history. Who knows… maybe in this 900th year—you are that person.)
Dathweet didn't reply. He simply clutched the blanket tighter. Inside… he still didn't know who he was.
Dathweet lay down on the second-floor bed, planning to take a short nap. He had barely settled in when his eyelids began to grow heavy.
"Mmm… just lay down for a bit and already getting sleepy… Guess I'll nap now and take a walk around the village tonight," he murmured.
Ken's lazy voice echoed in his head. (Go ahead and sleep… I won't bother you.)
"Hey… while I'm sleeping, can you control my body?" Dathweet asked.
Ken chuckled. (I only take over if you die or can't fight. Relax and sleep.)
"Alright… I'll sleep then," Dathweet mumbled, drifting off.
When Dathweet woke up, the sky had already turned a shade of dusky orange and purple. He sat up, stretched, and quietly stepped outside.
Expecting a refreshing breeze, he was caught off guard by the sudden chill in the air and shivered.
"So cold… I wonder if my body can still use Nifow after a year. Might as well channel it for warmth."
Ken chimed in. (I've helped you level up to Tier Y already. Almost to Tier N. Congrats.)
Dathweet smiled. "Thanks. Gaining levels without training… feels amazing."
He gathered Nifow around himself, a gentle warmth flowing through his body, making him feel much more at ease. He walked down the gravel path toward a small river, eyes on the water that mirrored the darkening sky.
Suddenly, he stopped.
By the riverbank, a girl sat crying.
She had long black hair, curled horns like a gazelle, and most striking of all—multi-pupil eyes, a feature so rare it was nearly nonexistent in nature.
Ken's voice sparked with interest. (That girl's got super rare eyes. In combat, her reflexes would be nearly unbeatable. Be careful.)
The girl caught sight of him and, without a word, pulled him down to sit beside her.
Dathweet flinched. "Hey! I wasn't planning to sit here! Why are you pulling people like that?"
The girl snapped. "Can't you see I'm upset? I need someone to vent to."
Before he could say no, she started ranting non-stop—about getting kicked out of her house for refusing to take over the family business, about working hard jobs, being forced into things, misunderstood…
Dathweet just listened silently, though his eyes remained slightly guarded. When she finally paused, he asked bluntly:
"Are these feelings real?"
The girl blinked, then scowled.
"What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm acting? Trying to seduce you or something? Don't flatter yourself!"
He looked at her expression, unsure if it was genuine or just another act. Standing up, he brushed the dust off his pants.
"Well, if you're done talking, I'm leaving."
But she quickly called after him, her voice turning suddenly sweet.
"Hey handsome~ Can I stay at your place tonight? I got kicked out of my lodging and have nowhere to go…"
"No. I don't even know you," Dathweet replied firmly, turning and walking away without hesitation.
Her constantly changing behavior only made him more suspicious.
Ken chuckled in his head. (Our Dathweet… doesn't seem to believe in love anymore, huh?)
"One lesson was enough," Dathweet said coldly.
(So you're planning to stay single forever?) Ken asked.
"Let's go with that."
Wandering around the village beneath the fading sunset, Dathweet slowly felt his mind begin to calm. As he passed by a bush near the stream, he stumbled across a sword lying on the ground. Glancing around and seeing no one, he picked it up, planning to find the owner the next day.
As he reached the front door of his house, a figure appeared behind him.
It was the girl from the river—Lyun.
Dathweet narrowed his eyes. "Why are you following me?"
Lyun pointed to the sword in his hand. "Because you took my sword."
"This is yours?" Dathweet asked. "Got any proof?"
Calmly, Lyun listed off several details—the name engraved on the hilt, a specific scratch from a past fight, and a tiny crack on the blade only its owner would know.
Dathweet nodded and held the sword out. "Sorry. Here—it's yours."
But Lyun didn't take it. Instead, she crossed her arms and tilted her head.
"I don't accept that apology. Unless… you let me stay here for the night. If not… I'll scream that you stole from me."
Ken whispered in Dathweet's head. (She's got you in a trap. Clingy as glue, that one.)
Dathweet sighed, annoyed. "Fine… Just don't make a scene."
The door creaked open as the two of them disappeared inside the small house under the twilight sky.
— End of Chapter —