Darkness swallowed him.
Zairen stood behind a woman in a flowing black gown, her long hair swaying like a phantom's veil. She sat on a throne of blooming flowers—vibrant, unnatural, too perfect to be real. Her face was hidden beneath shadowed silk.
She turned slightly, lips curving into an eerie, tender smile.
"Oh, Zairen…" Her voice was soft, almost loving. "Look… isn't it beautiful?"
Zairen followed her gaze. An endless field of flowers stretched beneath a silver sky—serene, unreal, deceptively peaceful.
"Yes," he whispered. "It's beautiful."
But then she turned fully.
"You know, Zairen…" Her voice turned cold, sharp as frost. "You failed me."
Zairen blinked. "What?"
"You failed me."
Her words grew louder, venomous.
"You failed me."
Again.
"You FAILED me."
"YOU FAILED ME—"
The words thundered, overlapping, deafening. Zairen reached for her shoulder—
She spun, her face a nightmare: half-melted, black ichor oozing, maggots writhing beneath her skin. The other half smiled sweetly, unnaturally.
"You failed me," she hissed, eyes weeping blood.
Then she laughed—twisted, sick, endless.
"AHAHAHAHAHA!"
Zairen jolted awake.
"Damn it!"
He gasped, sweat soaking his tattered clothes. Pain seared through him, unrelenting.
Something gnawed at his arm.
A rat, its teeth buried in his flesh, feasting.
He screamed, seizing it and smashing it against the wall.
Crack.
Blood and fur splattered the stone. The other rats squealed, vanishing into the shadows.
"Even rats want to eat me now?" he muttered, laughing bitterly. "Fucking hell…"
He examined his body—legs purple, bent wrong; arms bruised, sliced, swollen.
"Broken. Definitely broken."
He tried to sit up. Bone grated against bone, agony flaring.
"How long have I been here? Day? Night?"
In this pit, time was a ghost.
Only pain lived.
Only hunger.
His stomach growled, a hollow wail.
"No food. No water. No mercy."
He chuckled, voice raw. "Hell's kinder than this place."
Footsteps echoed.
Clank. Clank. Clank.
Two soldiers descended the stone stairway and unlocked the gate.
"Stand," one barked. "The Lord summons you."
Zairen didn't move. "I'd love to," he said dryly, "but my legs don't work. Also, I'm fairly sure I'm dying. So unless you're carrying me, fuck off."
The soldiers exchanged glances. One signaled.
They grabbed him—each seizing an arm—and dragged him like a sack of shattered bones.
But they didn't take him to the throne room.
They hauled him to the estate's healing chamber and tossed him onto a bed like garbage.
"Argh—careful, bastards!" Zairen shouted.
The healer, an old man with weary eyes, glanced up, then at the guards.
"Fix him," one ordered. "Guests are coming. He needs to look alive."
The healer nodded. The guards left.
With steady hands, the old man wrapped Zairen's limbs, fitting wooden casts to his broken bones. A pale girl—his assistant—handed him a glowing blue vial.
Zairen drank it greedily. Warmth flooded his veins, dulling the pain.
"Ahhh… that's the good stuff," he muttered.
He tried to sit, but the healer pressed him down. "Don't move," he said flatly. "You'll displace the bones. Six hours, minimum."
Zairen grumbled. "Fine. Can I eat before I turn to ash?"
The assistant brought a tray—warm bread, soup, a small fruit.
Zairen devoured it like a starved beast.
The healer raised an eyebrow. "It's peasant food. You act like it's a king's feast."
Zairen grinned, food caught in his teeth. "After the pit, this is divine."
The healer chuckled. "Eat slowly, or you'll choke."
Then they left him alone.
Zairen lay back, bandaged, splinted, stomach full—for once.
He studied himself—weak, small, broken.
"I must grow stronger," he whispered.
"I need to awaken my mana circle… soon."
"I'll bow my head. Endure. Play the dog…"
His fingers curled into a trembling fist.
"…until I become the wolf."
Sleep eluded him.
Not after that dream.
Not after her.
Her voice echoed: You failed me. You failed me.
"What was that dream?" he muttered. "Vision? Curse? Am I haunted?"
His eyes drifted to a thick book beside the bed.
The Beginning.
"History?" he groaned. "Boring."
No other options—just romance novels and medical scrolls.
"Guess I'm stuck with this…"
He opened the first page.
Long, long ago… there was only darkness in the world.
Something stirred within him.
A story of death.
Ruin.
Rebirth.
He turned the page.