“Wan, don’t go climbing on trees again,” his mother cautiously advised.

“I won’t! Don’t worry, Mom!” the voice of a fourteen-year-old rushed past the upcoming breeze. A mischievous smile was raked upon his lips. Scratching the rear of his head and trying to adopt the most innocent face he could don, his arms and legs fidgeted. He longed for action; he wanted to roam free.

His mother sighed.

“Little Wan, you never change… tsk tsk…” she watched him break into a sprint, darting off over the limits of her parental gaze. Within moments, her son disappeared beyond the boundaries of their cozy cottage.

Wan ran ahead, anticipating the rhythm of his movement as he throttled down a dirt track headed for the village market. Sakura trees enveloped parts of the village and fringed the edges of most buildings nearby.

Yafloria Village was a sanctuary dipped in harmony, certainly far away from bustling capital to the east and a treacherous border of the nation to the west.

“Oi Wan!” another voice stormed through the air, reaching Wan’s ears.

“Huh?” turning around, he recognized a familiar face. His eyes lit up almost immediately.

“B-Bain!” he rushed forward and embraced him like a long-lost friend. Indeed, he had been away from home for a painfully long time. Despite being a ‘tough guy’ among his friend circle, Wan always shed tears of joy if situations ever arrived. “Bain! Oh… For so many months I have waited. Where have you been?!”

Bain wun Donn’s parents were employed by the Sirutov, a military organization dedicated to serve the kingdom. Their grim tasks involved guarding the western border, also known as Humanity’s Last Lesson. Mistakes had been committed in the past for which all current and future generations of people living in this kingdom have now been threatened for their own existence.

“Ah, hold it right there, dude,” Bain tried shrugging Wan off. “Careful. Me and my parents just returned from the desert. Possibly my clothes could be contaminated with demonic flares and dust.”

The hubbub of vendors, merchants, craftsmen and even villagers, both local and foreign, was not a calm one. The two teens luckily chose a spot further away from the mists of trade, being able to hear each other crisp clear.

“Oh-oh, right! I forgot!” he let go instantly, rethinking his activities for a second. “How was the trip? Working right beside your parents?”

“Before that,” Bain raised his hand, still gloved in the special gear resistant to corrosive liquids. “I would like to know what’s changed. What did I miss? It’s been three months, I bet,” he shot his gaze here and there, excited to inspect any new updates to their homely village. “And how’s everyone else? Where are they? Where’s Takira? Where’s Miyumi?”

“Haha, calm down, calm down, warrior!” Wan patted his best friend’s shoulder. “You’ve just returned from a war zone and yet, you’re more energetic than me! That’s so unfair!” he grinned.

“Not really. My parents were the ones who were busy. I was locked up in a chamber in a watchtower. It was boring,” he crossed his arms and turned his head to a side while grumbling. “All I could do was watch from the oversized windows as the Sirutov did their job. Me wishing to be there one day.”

“Relax. Don’t worry. You’ll definitely be there. You’re from a Sirutov family, after all,” Wan assured.

It was common knowledge. A subtle history of the world was stapled into every newborn’s pool of knowledge since the dawn of humanity on the entire planet of Harthwa.

Harthwa had a history ornately decorated with the feats of mankind, great and small. But beneath the layers of discussing about various kingdoms, continents and reigns, much of the ‘spice’ of their history remained tainted by the touch of otherworldly creatures.

For centuries, beings from other dimensional universes visited Harthwa – often disguised in human form – contributing to the human civilization in both advantageous and hostile ways. Many had been great rulers and wise men. A flurry of new inventions, new ideas and new chunks of knowledge were delivered by these superior beings, unbeknownst to everyone else that they weren’t, in truth, ‘people’. Most crucially of all, they had introduced the art of magic.

Humans were quick learners, adopting the mystical technologies as equally as the brute strength of science.

However, not all such beings were generous in their will. Monstrous beings spread ill teachings throughout society, gradually corrupting the world of the living. It was not long before the humans evolved to a distinct scale of sentience where they could finally distinguish these alien-like people among their own.

The good ones were regarded as ‘angels’ and the evil ones as ‘demons’. To turn the tables of fate, once the demons understood that their cover had been blown, they felt free to reveal their true selves, shedding away their human ‘skins’.

Elves, orcs, humanoid animals and countless neutral creatures alike, too, staked their own claim on Harthwa, plundering and battling against each other as well as humans. The tides of war didn’t settle down till each major race had conquered a patch of land they could call their own.

The demonic races, however, were not pleased with mere satisfaction of a certain patch of land. They desired more, and so ‘more’ they devoured. Out of jealousy, they had launched invasions to eliminate all other life forms – especially humanity.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Several millennia covered the pages of Harthwa’s history simply describing constant ripples of rage and defense between hostile races and the kingdom. Three strong factions were formed to combat the darkness - the Akaminé, the Alkynes, and the Sirutov. Each of these three organizations boasted their own customs, motives and technological assets. Their goal: to protect the Kingdom, the central domain were all surviving humans flourished under a single ruler.

The Akaminé were spellcasters and warriors following the teachings of what the superior beings had bestowed upon humanity ages ago. Using the power of magic, they hoped to defend and rescue those in danger.

The Alkynes were similarly spellcasters, but more liberal in their morals and less disciplined than the Akaminé. Nine cases out of ten, they ignored wisdom and chose the most appropriate strategies that may have an overall outcome in their favor – that included using the demons’ own magic against them (and carrying a risk of being infected via long-term usage). They wished not only to rescue innocents but also to raid the demons’ own territories, guided by their vendetta for vengeance.

Last, but surely not the least, the Sirutov were a military department directly endorsed by the Kingdom. Disciplined enforcement of soldiers trained to the claw. Relying on the power of science and technology, they intended to lay waste to any and all unethical actions. Their primary aim, ofcourse, was to maintain a global unity between all races.

Away from the reaches of modern technology, Yafloria Village, where Wan Dé and his friends were born and raised, was cradled by the expanses of forests cushioning on all sides. Its inhabitants were hardly aware that a thousand kilometers away, there were cars, skyscrapers and unbelievable gadgets in active use. On the other side of the village, to the west, beyond the furthest tree at the edge of the Yaflorian forest, a major desert wasteland resided.

A row of Sirutov towers stood their ground as a physical mark for the outermost boundary of human civilization. Near the end of the last four decades, the demons had unleashed an assault too powerful to handle. A frighteningly large portion of the landmass had been conquered or destroyed. The three anti-demon factions had united to distill the aftermaths but the Sirutov kept a wary watch on those borders to ward off any intruders ever since.

Indeed, Bain had just observed what it meant to be a Sirutov. Beneath the promise of respect and riches, potential candidates had to undergo toxic trials to test their passion and physique. The family trip had slightly shattered his expectations.

“You think so?” something caught Bain’s eyes. “What? Oh… Oh hey! There she is! Takira!” he waved to someone behind Wan. His face momentarily guided an implicit comment as he whispered to Wan. “How’s your relationship with Takira going, bro?”

“Aiii,” Wan was shocked to hear him ask that in a moment like this. He nudged Bain in the ribs, making him bite his tongue in the process.

“Hiya!” Takira approached them, surprised to find Bain back. She waved back. “Bain!!! Wow, you’re back. So soon?”

“A long story,” Bain pronounced. “Erm… I gotta go now. Catch you guys later.”

“Ehh? Why?” Takira Honé was curious. “What happened? It’s been three months! Let’s chat for a bit more, pleassseeee.”

“No, Taki. Sorry,” Bain inserted his hand into a pocket in his trousers. “I forgot to hand over something to my father. I’ll be back by sunset.”

“Huuuhh?” Takira’s cloud of happiness popped. She frowned. “Why must you leave now? Is it really that urgent? I just got here.”

“I… I’m really sorry; my father told me to get back home quickly,” Bain announced. He gestured towards the rucksack on his back. “Need to drop this off, too.”

Unaware to the three, the density of people currently in the market slowly, but suddenly, dispersed.

“Okay then, byee,” Takira smiled merrily. “Hope to meet up in the afternoon.”

Wan watched his buddy leave the market square, feeling empty after a quick dive into such a heartfelt moment of meeting a cherished friend. But something hurt his eyes.

The sunlight.

“What’s wrong, Wan?” Takira noticed.

“No, nothing. It’s just the sun.”

The sunlight. It seemed a bit too bright today.

Sudden screams flooded the atmosphere. A clangor of blades followed next.

“Wh-what’s happening? There’s trouble!” Wan’s pupils contricted. “Taki! Come with me.”

He grabbed her hand without warning and rushed to the nearest house in sight.

A few flares flew from the direction of the sun and landed on the other side of the village market, blocked off by a wall. It set the stalls and stores on fire.

“Wan, what? What are you doing?!” Takira exclaimed, as she was forcefully led to a shelter. “Why are there screams? What’s going on?!”

“I don’t know either,” he ignored the shade of nervousness painted on her face. He dared to peek out from behind the cover of the exterior surface of the house. “I guess we cannot stand here. Too unsafe. Come on.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s get moving. Please cooperate,” Wan humbly advised.

While the locals’ focal target was to extinguish the unexpected burning blaze, a horde of strange figures appeared, raining from the sky like silhouettes of silky darkness. To add salt to the wounds, a band of mysterious men walked out from behind the shadows of all trees and objects – as if spawning out of thin air.

“Wan!!! There are people. Weird people,” Takira innocently pointed at them, as she struggled to match the pace of Wan’s brisk walk.

“I know,” his face was a mask of confidence, enabling him to act stoic in this situation. “Where should we hide?”

“Wan!! The people are following us!”

“I know,” he barged through the door of his own house and shouted for his mother. “Mom! Mom!! Call Dad immediately. There are strange things going on in —”

Wan stopped. His grip on Takira’s cotton-soft hand loosened.

He felt he was about to faint from the sight laid before him.

“Mo-mom… MOM! MOTHER!!!!”