Chaos, destruction and death. That is what littered the air.

The night sky was blazing like never-ending hellfire as his hometown was lying in ruin.

Marrik took a step outside of his cabin. His face was showing pure despair as he observed his once-prosperous town now swallowed by flames.

However, it doesn't end there. The surrounding settlements and forests were all set ablaze as the fire seemed to engulf everything it touched. The scent of burnt human flesh filled the air, causing Marrik immediately fall to his knees and vomit into his hands. Tears flowed down his cheeks like a heavy current, as he tried to hold his breath.

"No. NO! No one deserves this! This can't be happening!"

He couldn't help but begin pounding his fist into the ground, but he soon realized the horror before him. The dirt and mud was red with blood. The entrails and dismembered corpses littered the streets from every direction. A sound like coughing up blood came forth as he began to vomit even harder all over the ground and himself. He couldn't take it anymore and immediately stood back up to block the sight of this horror, shutting his eyes harder than ever before.

His short white hair was disheveled, and the wrinkles in his face seemed to deepen as if he was physically losing years from stress.

This… this must be a dream, right? Surely this can't be happening. Please let this be some sort of bad dream!

This kind of scene was only found in horror stories meant to scare children, yet it was being brought to life before his eyes. It was very reasonable to want to cling to some kind of hope in this kind of situation.

I… I remember we were finished all of our preparations… We all celebrated. Long expeditions of gathering materials… It seems like it had taken years. Yet… We performed our ritual as written and… Oh Gods….

He clutched at his hair hard enough to rip patches out. He couldn't help but draw blood as he bit his lip. His whole body was trembling as he forced himself to turn around toward his cabin and open his eyes once more.

Black ash from the burnt corpses and wood fell from the sky and coated the land like dark snow. The forest's trees were withered and black as if some dark, evil magic tainted the land with corruption.

His tears simply wouldn't stop, no matter how hard he tried. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to stop. Would that betray his people? What can he even do in this situation?

Alas, those were thoughts which held no meaning to him, despite his sorrows. All he could do was accept his fate, and move forward. With all of his might, he could not let himself fall into despair. There is too much at stake.

With a barely audible noise coming from his cabin, he seemed to come back to his senses, at least somewhat. He peered into the darkness of the cabin quickly to investigate the strange noise.

This old man who must've been in his sixties has lived a long and prosperous life. He had a wife, four children and many grandchildren. In fact, it was an oddity for him to still be alive at that age in this era. Even more strange, why was he alive when everyone else had perished? It must've been because he was at the forefront of the summoning ritual. It was him who chanted the words inside the tome.

Staring at the dark, tattered entrance from where he came from—which was a breath of fresh air compared to the bloodbath around him—small footsteps could be heard.

At the entrance was a boy. The boy looked to be the age of fifteen.

"Y-you… Eri- I-I mean, ehm, wait… What are you?! Are you the great demon Orgraut?! Did you do this to my people?!"

Marrik lashed out at the boy, trying to pin blame on something—anything. And why shouldn't he? This demon is the byproduct of his ritual. This demon must have something to do with this! Yet Marrik instead took a deep breath and reconsidered.

By the Gods, Marrik you old fool... This is all your fault. Was it not your idea to summon the greater demon of wishes, Orgraut? Gods, I am sick… Years and years of studying magic, and all I can do is spew blame on others for something I as a magic caster have done to myself….

Soon however, a confident voice rang out from the boy in front of him.

"Good evening, old man. Is it you who has resurrected me? Please accept my thanks, it's nice to be back. However—"

The boy who had come into view pondered for a bit and began observing his body from any angle his head could reach. He felt his long, blonde hair fall to his lower back, and he knew that his irises have turned a deep shade of red, just as they always do. Despite being in the body of a child, his physique was fine and muscular. It belonged to a farm boy. Touching his face, he felt that even though he was young, he had quite handsome features which would surely attract members of the opposite sex with ease. He was also naked.

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With a huge sigh, he scratched the back of his head and continued.

"—Why did you summon me into the body of a child? Wouldn't it have been more respectful to bring me back into a body of, like, an enormous warrior-hero with rippling muscles and a manly face or something?"

Taking a huge gulp of saliva, Marrik began sweating profusely. The ritual worked. The product of his and his companions' blood, sweat and tears was standing before him. If only his companions could have survived to witness the glory of their hard-work.

He clasped his hands together and bowed his head down to the boy in front of him.

"Oh great Orgraut, the demon of wishes! I am thankful to be in your presence. Please bestow upon me your power and bring my nation long-lasting peace!"

There was silence. Tension began filling the air, and Marrik began to get worried.

W-why isn't he doing anything? He's just standing there. Oh Gods, please don't let this all be for nothing!

The boy tilted his head to the side and gave a disappointed face to the old man. He let out a sigh and said,

"Listen, old man. Firstly, you've summoned me into the body of some child. Secondly, at least have the decency to call me by my name—which is Arch by the way. ARCH. Thirdly, Orgraut? If that's the name of some demon, it's none I've ever heard. He was probably part of the lower echelons of the demon world or something if even I haven't heard of him."

Arch had continued his rant while counting the problems with his fingers.

"However—you did help me out by bringing me back. I will do you a small favour, but before you ask—unfortunately I can't bring back the souls you sacrificed to resurrect me."

As he said that, he began to walk forward and passed Marrik's side slowly.

Marrik had a look of utter astonishment on his face. He wasn't sure whether to be sad, angry, happy or anything. He was royally confused. His summon just denied him everything that he had been thinking. Perhaps Arch is a different demon, but why doesn't he listen to my orders? All summons are meant to follow orders! What's going on?!

As he pondered those thoughts he heard words coming from behind him which seemed to bellow out, except in a calm, smooth way.

"[Greater Winds of the Forest Guardian]."

Arch's naked body stood there with his arms outstretched to the sky. Immediately, the sky turned green and a great blistering wind which seemed to descend from the heavens swooped unto the city like a hurricane and blew away the flames, ashes and destruction. The blood, guts and remains of all the lives that were taken seemed to be absorbed or dragged into the ground by uprising vines. All that was left were the withered trees, and burnt down houses. The sky became clear, and the red-dyed sky was no more. All that was left was the light emitted from the full-moon.

Marrik couldn't believe his eyes. He fell to his knees at the sight of such power. He had expected powers far beyond the realm of humans, but the sight he just beheld was truly magnificent. This was a groundbreaking form of magic he just witnessed—something no one that he has ever met could ever be able to accomplish. With a glimmer in his eyes, he looked at Arch with a deep respect.

"Arch—no, Demon King Arch—I-I have never before seen power so immense! Even while the deep sorrow I feel in my heart presses hard on me for my fallen comrades, I cannot help but be in awe of your might! Please, as shameful as it is to ask, please take me as a disciple!"

Marrik took to the ground and genuflected before Arch.

Arch looked back at Marrik and cringed at the old man kneeling before him. Once again he gave a look of pity and disappointment.

"Old man, I did what I could for you, simply as thanks. You haven't even answered why you thought it'd be funny to leave me in this shamefully young child's body, yet you ask more of me? Plus, I'm no demon, don't go calling me insulting names like that without discovering the truth first. I'm a being far more powerful than any mere demon. Plus, there is no benefit of taking you on as a disciple. One glance at you, and I can see the limit of your power. What is it… Level… VI? You can reach level VI spells? Don't make me laugh you pitiful old man. Please, excuse me."

Arch knelt down and put his hand to the ground. He focused his eyes wholeheartedly and once more shouted a magical incantation.

"[Robes of the White Willow]."

At those last bellowing words, white roots seemed to spring forth from the earth at breakneck speeds and began to entangle Arch. Within moments, Arch was covered from neck to feet in white, glistening robes. They were engraved in extremely intricate golden designs all throughout.

Marrik could only stand there in utter shock, his mouth dangling down so far it was as if his jaw had been dislocated.

"U-uh… Master Arch, then… Yes, as for your question—you are currently in the body of my grandchild, Erin. He had fallen ill and was expected to pass away at any moment. He was best suited to be the carrier for you, as we hadn't wished to sacrifice anyone of good health. Plus, he had insisted even through our harsh denials. But something must've gone terribly wrong… The tome we read had nothing which told of a grand sacrifice, yet we followed everything in that book to the last detail! What could have gone wrong?! Why did everyone die when we tried so hard?!"

Quickly, Marrik covered his mouth as he realized he began to lose control of his emotions momentarily. Immediately he continued.

"E-er, ahem. I apologize for my outburst. My conflicting emotions appear to be straining me… But please Master Arch, I beg you to please take me—Marrik Farhelm—as your disciple. Surely there is information we can share about magic, or this world, or anything you wish to know?"

While Arch internally cringed every time he heard Marrik say 'Master Arch', he sighed and realized that there may indeed be great benefit to exchanging information with the old man.

"Alright, alright. But… Just call me Arch, alright? It embarrasses me to be called 'Master'. I apologize for the life of your grandchild, but it was through your own selfish actions that this happened. Even if you summoned a lesser demon, sure, no one else other than Erin would've died, but do you really think demons are able to grant wishes? Please… That's your own foolishness at hand."

Marrik's face showed a great pain momentarily, but quickly suppressed it.

The lives of everyone I loved. They're all gone. My friends, my family. This tragedy… Was it truly all my fault? I held the tome during the ritual. I found the tome through our expeditions in the ancient ruins. Many of my friends had died during the adventures to find materials. We faced many monsters… But was it really all for naught?

He pondered these thoughts as he reflected on the past.

Surely, as long as I can keep Arch confined to the settlements of Kadarak, I, Marrik Farhelm, the founder of the settlements of Kadarak—the strongest magic caster until now—will not let my comrades' deaths be in vain. I will bring longevity to my people!