Pure, noble, clad in this attire, the saintly maiden strides along the path, embraced by blossoms, treading the path of blood to bring calm to the living and the brave.

The war between the Demon King and the kingdom, after a century-long stalemate, shattered the balance. The anticipated arrival of the hero did not materialize, leaving the kingdom without the strength to resist. The Demon King's army devoured towns one by one.

A child, from the largest town, Soarel City, met her in an orphanage. Her pure skin covered by dirty clothes and impoverished conditions hid her beauty and grace. Two children made a pact.

"Mayor said if a hero defeats the Demon King, we can ask the kingdom for anything. So, wait for me. After I vanquish the Demon King, I will come back, and then you'll marry me."

"Yes."

The journey officially begins.

As the child, now a youth, applies for resources, there is no mockery in the hall. In this world, hope's flame, even in its infancy, hasn't been extinguished. The kingdom's corruption, however, squandered the favorable situation created by past heroes, handing it over to the Demon King's army.

The journey officially begins.

Alone, the youth embarks on the journey. Facing the first encounter with a monster, fear fills his heart, but his unwavering will refuses to accept failure. Is it for love, or for something else? Using his entire strength, he continuously counters attacks, wielding the dagger. The monster falls, but the youth does not, and the journey continues.

Venturing alone on this perilous path, the dagger in his hands becomes dull over time, yet experience grows. Bathing in the blood of monsters, he forges ahead, clearing a path in this world overrun by creatures, without a hint of hesitation.

The sounds beyond the low growls of monsters are no longer familiar to his ears. The scent of humanity is lost. His armor, soaked in monster blood, loses its original color.

"Who are you, and why are you here?"

The long-lost language makes him nostalgic for her, but there are matters at hand.

"I am a hero, here to defeat the Demon King."

His appearance makes it hard to believe he's a young man sent to the front lines. Nevertheless, the kingdom's corruption makes the undeniable truth. Anger, as the front-line soldiers witness numerous like him, unable to stop it. Resignation, if it buys an extra second of breath, sacrifice is silently accepted.

"Arrange a tent for him," said the soldier with a commanding presence, donned in neat attire, stabilizing the front-line troops.

Entering the tent, he soon falls asleep. Even in such a tent, it's been a long time since he had good rest.

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Corruption no longer suffices to describe the kingdom. In the deteriorating environment, the orphanage, compelled by circumstances, sells girls to nobles. To the royal family, women are like white handkerchiefs, discarded after any use. She was also sold. The white handkerchief floats in the wind at night, drifting towards a direction the youth can't reach.

Monsters are not human; there's no discomfort in the moment of slashing. On the battlefield, it's as if he's detached, engaging in simple slaughter. But this scene, to the front-line soldiers, is peculiar, and even more so to the monsters. A killing machine devoid of emotion, the youth leads people to finally counterattack. But what is the cost? None? The world doesn't allow everything to be so easy.

A small knife cuts through, losing something akin to a left eye. The fear formed by the unknown envelops him, but his steps don't halt. Perhaps it's because he dares to move forward due to the loss of emotion, or maybe it's because possessing the strongest emotions enables him to continue. In reality, both are the same for him—pursuing the reunion with her and ensuring her happiness.

The Demon King, the most cunning and powerful entity, aware of the youth's presence.

After a whole day of intense battles, night falls, and those who entered the battlefield together have formed bonds like never before. Hearts surge, but physical exhaustion makes them plunge into a deep sleep. Everyone enters the sweet realm of dreams.

Beak, wings, robust arms, lightning-fast speed—that's the first impression. Soldiers one by one lose their lives. The military quickly assumes a defensive stance, but it has no effect against overwhelming force. Lives are taken effortlessly, like blowing away feathers.

Fluttering wings, crimson blood scatters in the sky. The avian monster's power is something humans cannot withstand. Running, surpassing fear, with determined eyes, the youth draws his dagger. Swinging desperately, but it doesn't connect. Dodging desperately, yet wounds multiply, skin tears, and blood flows.

With a forceful swipe of its talons, death looms on the edge. Discarding distractions, making a decision, wielding the large sword forward. A mere human, imagining defeating the Demon King's aide. Inhaling, bidding farewell to the left arm, simultaneously piercing the monster's heart.

Undoubtedly, a complete victory for humanity, at the cost of sacrificing his own arm and less than half of the soldiers. Raising swords, singing the song of victory, they march forward.

The white handkerchief floats in the wind, a political tool. Rumors abound in the kingdom, suggesting the formation of a resistance, aiming to break the corrupt kingdom. Year after year of sacrifice has become unbearable.

The saintly maiden, named Saint, heads to the Demon King's castle, offering herself for peace.

The youth and the front-line soldiers have lost contact with the rear at some point, lacking resources, trapped in a dilemma. What to do?

For her happiness, he takes a step forward, pursuing, relentlessly slaughtering monsters until his vision is obscured by blood, limbs are taken away, until consciousness is lost, and breathing becomes impossible.

The saintly maiden walks the path filled with blood, a broad crimson road, narrowing with every step. At the end of this road, she falls into eternal sleep. In dreams, she meets him again, surrounded by blue roses, finally living together.

Rumors spread in the kingdom, suggesting the formation of a resistance to break the corrupt kingdom. Year after year of sacrifice has become unbearable.