The moment I was born, people exalted my existence. Within my small infant body was an unfathomable amount of magic power. Currently in the world of Athura, the acknowledged strongest mage was the kingdom’s court magician. That was until I was born.

The family I was born in was a warrior family that cultivated the ways of killing using different weaponries and combat styles. Starting from the day I was able to walk, I had been slowly trained to develop my body for combat. Starting from the day I was able to understand words, I was educated with the ways of combat and killing.

After my family had acknowledged that I had fully learned all they had to teach, I was brought to the kingdom’s castle to be taught by the court mage. I learned all sorts of magic. Defensive magic, healing magic, attack magic, utility magic. I learned all of them.

At the young age of twenty, I had become the strongest killing machine that the kingdom could develop. All of this was for one purpose.

I, along with the court mage, the knight captain, the holy bishop, and the nameless assassin, set out to the front lines of war against the demon race.

Five years have passed since I joined the war. Finally, with the help of the other four, I had made my way through the seemingly endless army of demons and faced against their leader, the Demon King.

Surrounded by the never-ending onslaught between the clashing armies, the final battle began.

I carried no weapons with me, nor did I wear any sort of armor. With my magic, I could create any weapon and armor I desired. The demon king was the same. We were opposite sides of the same coin.

With every strike, a loud explosion could be heard throughout the battlefield.

With every swing, a huge shockwave would blast away the nearby battling humans and demons.

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With every magic, the surrounding terrain would change.

Recordkeepers stood afar and watched the unfolding battle, which they would write down to be passed on to the future generations.

The battle lasted for five days and five nights. Even as the soldiers retreated for the night, the battle between I and the Demon King continued. It was as if we were in a world of our own.

The first to show weakness was me. I ran out of magic on a crucial moment. The Knight Captain jumped in front of me and caught the Demon King’s blow, killing him on the spot and landing a grave wound on me.

The Holy Bishop used up all his magic and sacrificed his life force to heal my fatal wounds. He, too, died.

The Nameless Assassin struck a major wound on the Demon King before being cut down.

The Court Mage transferred her remaining magic to me. Using that magic, I landed a killing blow on the Demon King.

Thinking that it was finally all over, I made another mistake. Using the last bits of his life force and magic, the Demon King casted one last spell.

The battlefield disappeared from the map. All that was left was a massive crater… and the Court Mage who I protected with all I had.

*

And thus, the Demon King was defeated at the cost of many lives, including the Knight Captain, the Holy Bishop, the Nameless Assassin, and the Hero.

The Court Mage on her death bed said, “Still, I regret. That war should have not happened in the first place.”

And as tears rolled down her cheeks, she said with her last breath, “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes slowly closed. She remembered his smile as he protected her. She wanted him to stop, and die along with him, but he hushed her with a few simple words…