In a small village within Melor’s territory, at the foot of a mountain in the Seawall range, a small but extraordinarily strong boy slowly made his way toward the village with a massive bundle of firewood strapped to his back. In one hand, he gripped the leg of a Goa, dragging its corpse effortlessly across the ground.

  Though young, the boy’s eyes were unnervingly resolute. Dark, dried blood stains dotted his clothes. The villagers seemed accustomed to his presence and showed little surprise. Starving, skeletal figures lay scattered along the roadside, swallowing nervously as they stared at the fat Goa carcass he dragged behind him. Greed gleamed in their eyes, yet no one dared to snatch it away. The boy was Thane. A monster. An orphan who possessed abnormal strength.

  Thane walked on slowly, indifferent to the thoughts of others. To him, they were nothing more than annoying flies. His gaze was fixed on a small, simple house standing alone in the distance at the edge of the village. Smoke rising into the air meant his uncle was awake. Thane felt a pang of sadness. Perhaps it would not be long before his uncle left him as well.

  “I’m back.”

  Thane shouted loudly, signaling the hard of hearing old man at home. He also had no desire to end up with bone arrows lodged in his body.

  “So you’re back, Thane.”

  The old man slowly lowered his crossbow. They were often targeted by bandits. In this age, the elderly and children were prime targets. Children could be sold as slaves. The old were easily killed. Of course, those who chose this grandfather and grandson always paid a very steep price.

  The old man trembled as he moved to the hearth and brewed Thane a cup of hot tea. That was all he could still do with his frail, fading strength. His body was covered in boils and swollen tumors. Sparse black feathers grew along his arms and neck. No one in the village knew what illness afflicted him. Once a powerful warrior, the old man had now become an omen of misfortune, loathed and avoided by all.

  Winter was approaching. Firewood and food supplies had been fully prepared by Thane. They should have been able to pass this season in warmth and comfort. Yet Thane knew his uncle would not live to see the flowers bloom again.

  “I’m going to die, Thane.”

  The old man groaned while being washed, his eyes unfocused.

  Thane froze. He had heard this many times before. But this time was different. It felt real. Thane cared for the old man attentively, showing not the slightest disgust toward the foul, festering sores. He was the only family Thane had left.

  “I know.”

  Thane nodded. Ever since falling ill, his uncle had become a different person. Much gentler. Much kinder. He no longer beat or cursed Thane as he once did. At times, he would sit and talk with him, telling stories of the outside world, of legends and heroes. Those tales lit something within the boy. A yearning. A sweet spice added to his otherwise dull existence.

  Deep down, Thane felt conflicted. He harbored a terrifying thought. He had once wished his uncle would remain ill forever, forever stay as he was now.

  Then that day came.

  The old man lay on the bed, breathing heavily, his breath rattling. Thane sat beside him without making a sound, watching him intently for the last time. He was not overwhelmed by grief. He only felt lost.

  “Do you remember the stories I told you?”

  “I remember them very clearly, Uncle.”

  “All heroes, before becoming great, endure countless trials. They are not alone. There are always companions and teachers who help them along the way.”

  “Go to Hesmir. There, you will meet the first teacher of your life. He will help you become strong and resilient.”

  The old man’s breathing grew rapid, his heartbeat racing. Thane hurriedly grasped his hand and asked softly.

  “Who is he, Uncle?”

  The old man did not answer. He only smiled faintly. His eyes lost their light. His heart stopped. His trembling body grew still. Even at the end of his life, what he left behind for the boy was uncertainty.

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  After carefully burying his uncle, Thane packed his belongings and departed. At the very least, the old man had given him a goal. A destination. Thane turned back to look carefully at the simple house one last time. Perhaps he would never return.

  He left in the bitter cold of winter. Snow and wind swept over the land, erasing his footprints. Thane did not know that after he left, his uncle’s grave stood empty. The body had vanished, leaving only a few mysterious black feathers inside the wooden coffin.

  After a long journey across mountains and rivers, Thane finally arrived at Hesmir. His face was caked with dust. His blond hair had long since become dry and matted. It was nothing like the bustling city he had imagined. Today, the city was shrouded in mourning and solemnity. White flags hung from houses. All trade had been suspended. Soldiers in gleaming armor stood guard throughout the streets.

  The Lumina Palace lay in ruins. Corpses and severed limbs were scattered everywhere. A battle of terrifying scale had clearly taken place.

  The western gate was sealed off by soldiers. Within lurked a type of monster capable of spreading disease through wounds. Those infected became mad and bloodthirsty like wild beasts. Strong barricades had been erected to protect residential areas, and at regular intervals, cleansing squads were sent in to purge the area.

  “What happened?”

  Thane was curious, but no one had time to answer him.

  In the distance, he saw a beautiful noblewoman standing there in a daze. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She stared toward the western gate, where her husband had commanded the troops. Her hand clutched a pendant bearing a portrait of her family smiling together. In the image was a tall, steadfast man, a beautiful woman, and their adorable young daughter.

  The woman knelt in prayer, despite the attempts of countless soldiers to stop her. Her arms formed the symbol of eight. But no miracle occurred. Her husband would never return.

  Thane wandered Hesmir for many days, yet failed to find the person his uncle had spoken of. He did not even know what that person looked like. There was no information to identify him. Only the vague words of a dying old man.

  Then suddenly, Thane saw a boy step out from a wooden house. A strange boy, with eyes of unnatural calm. A powerful pressure radiated from his body. Thane could feel the danger emanating from him.

  “That’s him.”

  Thane’s eyes lit up.

  Thane was certain that the boy was the one he was searching for. There was no concrete proof. Everything felt as though it had been arranged by fate itself. The old man’s smile before his death surfaced in the boy’s mind. That smile seemed to suggest that the answer lay within Thane himself.

  Thane hurried after the strange boy. His actions, naturally, did not escape the boy’s notice. Yet the boy pretended not to see. He walked forward slowly, unhurried, allowing Thane to catch up while maintaining a fixed distance between them. A gentle breeze passed by, carrying black feathers that drifted across the boy’s face.

  “I know.”

  The boy gave a mysterious smile and then quickened his pace. Ahead of them was Loket’s military recruitment station. Two silver coins as payment for one person. A price far too cheap for a soul.

  …

  A decrepit boat drifted silently across the pitch black waters of the Black Sea. Thick fog blanketed the place, and the wailing cries of souls seemed to echo faintly around them. Exitus sat opposite a strange old ferrymwoman.

  They sat there in silence as the boat drifted on endlessly, as though the concept of time itself had been erased. Exitus did not know how long it had been, only that it had been a very long time. Yet ahead there was still nothing but boundless fog, no exit, no light. He studied the old woman carefully. Though her appearance was grotesque and repulsive, her eyes were bright and strikingly beautiful. The cloak she wore was also unusual. Upon closer inspection, it resembled a garment woven from the feathers of some unknown bird.

  “End this little game and tell me what you want.”

  “You know?” The old woman was surprised, her eyes filled with curiosity. She could not understand how a mere boy could see through her disguise.

  Exitus nodded quietly. He knew. Ever since obtaining the power of the page Spiner Looke, Exitus could see through all illusions and perceive the true nature of reality. He now understood how Nashor had returned from the border battlefield. It was not that the man had survived and come back on his own. Someone else had brought him back.

  “One soul in exchange for one life.” The old woman smiled slyly.

  “So it was all part of your plan? From the very beginning?” Exitus asked, confused. The feeling of being trapped within another’s calculations was deeply unpleasant.

  “When I saw you, I knew it had to be you.”

  The old woman replied calmly, her voice clear and pure like that of a young woman in her twenties.

  “Nashor’s soul already belongs to Vel Haen. It cannot help you cross the Black Sea.”

  “That is why I want to know what you want. Or more precisely, who you are.”

  “No wonder you are the successor of Madenes. You truly are frighteningly intelligent.”

  The old woman took out a black feather from her robes. It floated in the air, drifting slowly toward Exitus. It was a contract. By taking it, Exitus would accept the hidden terms contained within.

  The boy did not hesitate. He grabbed the feather. He had no choice. The contents flowed into his mind. Exitus nodded and let out a quiet sigh. It was not a difficult request. On the contrary, it was an easy one. The only issue was that she had done all of this for that person. That individual was certainly not an ordinary child.

  “I accept the agreement.”

  “However, only once.”

  Exitus stared straight at the old woman, waiting for her reaction. His intent was clear. He would save the boy only once. From that point onward, if they became enemies, Exitus would still be able to kill him.

  “No problem at all.”

  The old woman’s voice twisted once more, becoming distorted and terrifying. A massive whirlpool appeared before them. The boat was swallowed whole, sinking deeper and deeper into the endless black vortex.