A small village nestled within the heart of a dense forest resounded with the lively chatter of its inhabitants, each engrossed in their daily activities. Some were busy fetching water from the nearby creek, while others fell trees, herded cattle, or nurtured their gardens.

"Alatar Saliton! Wake up!" a short woman with flowing brown hair and piercing blue eyes called out. She gently shook a drowsy young boy, who groaned in reluctant annoyance.

"Mom! I don't want to get up... Can I stay in bed today?" The boy, sporting short brown hair and brown eyes, reluctantly sat up, stifling a yawn as he stretched. "No, you can't skip training with your father. He's preparing you to be the next protector of the village," she urged with a warm smile. "Alright?"

Alatar grinned in response. "Alright, Mom! I'll get ready."

With a wave of goodbye, his mother left the room, promising breakfast upon his return from training. Alatar quickly dressed in a white tunic, brown pants, and black boots before heading to the kitchen, where his mother was preparing breakfast.

"Go on and meet your dad for your training," she encouraged, setting him on his way. Alatar nodded and stepped outside, grabbing a wooden sword and leaning against the wall. As he traversed the village, he exchanged greetings and smiles with the villagers engaged in their routines.

Upon reaching the creek, Alatar spotted his father awaiting his arrival. A tall, well-built man with shaggy black hair and a beard, Alatar's father turned to greet him with a smile. "Son! Are you ready?" he asked, lowering himself as Alatar rushed toward him.

"Yeah! And if I beat you, I'll become the new protector of the village!" Alatar declared, brimming with enthusiasm. His father chuckled, patting Alatar's head. "Seems you just woke up! Rising earlier is a must if you aim to be the protector."

"I got up earlier!" Alatar retorted, a blush creeping onto his cheeks as he attempted to tame his bedhead. "Explain the bed hair, then," his father teased. But today, I've got someone to aid your training. Why settle for one protector when we can have two?" Alatar appeared puzzled. What do you mean?"

"Yo, Ala!" a voice interrupted from behind. Alatar turned to see a boy around his age, sporting fiery red hair and yellow eyes. Clad in a sleeveless tunic, loose pants, and fluttering belts, he stood ready for action. "Darwin! Are you joining my training?" Alatar asked, brimming with excitement. "Absolutely! Let's take on this old geezer!" Darwin exclaimed, leaping forward with flair.

Alatar's father was taken aback. "L-Language!" he thought to himself. He should've spoken more with Darwin's grandfather before he left."

Amid laughter, Alatar readied his glowing blue sword. "Ready, Dad!"

With fists raised, Darwin proclaimed, "The Magic Sword and Fists Combo! Unbeatable!" His father, wielding a sword but not unsheathing it, engaged in playful combat. Darwin lunged forward, aiming a punch that missed as Alatar's father adeptly sidestepped, causing Darwin to tumble into the creek.

Alatar cautiously approached his father, who parried his son's sword with its sheath. "You'll have to do better than that, So—" he halted as Alatar swiftly dropped, grabbing his father's leg. Now, Darwin!" Alatar shouted, and as the water splashed, Darwin leaped from the creek, landing on his father's back.

"What's this?! What are you—?!" Alatar's father struggled, pinned by Alatar as Darwin retaliated, brandishing a fish and planting it firmly on his father's back. "We've got him, Ala!" Releasing his hold, Alatar's father wriggled, the fish causing discomfort. "AH! GET IT OUT!"

Alatar and Darwin stepped back, exchanging nods before simultaneously lunging forward, kicking Alatar's father's chest, and toppling him onto his back. Brandishing his sword triumphantly, Alatar declared, "You've lost!" Grinning, Darwin prepared to strike. "Gotcha!"

His father sighed. "Firstly, that wasn't even fair…" With a flop, the fish fell from his back into the creek. Eyes gleaming with excitement, Alatar realized, "That means…" His father sighed again. "That means... you two are now the protectors of the village. But I must train you to ensure you're fully prepared."

Darwin interjected, "Ala and I are heading into the forest for more training." The father smiled gently. "Very well, but stay safe."

Confusion clouded Alatar's expression. "We are—" Before he could finish, Darwin seized his arm and dragged him into the forest, barely managing to hold onto his sword.

As they ventured deeper into the woods, playfully chasing each other, Darwin pondered, "Hey, Ala, what will we do when we train someone else to be the protectors?" Shrugging, Alatar replied, "I might become a teacher, like my mom, teaching others." Curiosity piqued, Darwin prodded, "How do you do that magic stuff? Did your mom teach you?" Nodding, Alatar confirmed, "Yeah, she taught me to control it. She says I'm special since I can use it, but it might be something else—" BOOM!

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Startled, both boys jolted at the explosion echoing from the village. Determined, Darwin urged, "Alright! Let's show them what we can do, Ala!" and sprinted toward the village. Hurriedly following, Alatar pleaded, "Wait, Darwin!" Struggling to keep pace, he eventually lost sight of his friend.

Amidst screams resonating from his village, Alatar witnessed witches and demons wreaking havoc. His mind raced: "Where's Darwin... Mom... Dad…" Stealthily, he maneuvered through debris, dodging flames and devastation. Closing his eyes, tears streaming, he whispered, "I have to reach my house... make it... make it..." Cresting a hill, he spotted his home in the distance.

Entering cautiously, Alatar called out, "Mom... Da—" A hand clasped over his mouth, pulling him into a nearby cabinet. Confused, he gazed up to see his mother, her expression filled with terror, as she shut the cabinet. Thuds resounded outside, and through a crack in the cabinet, Alatar and his mother observed hooves and a colossal demon sniffing around.

"I can smell him... he's near," the Demon growled as a cloaked woman entered. "Capture him alive," Alatar uttered a muffled cry as the Demon barged through, creating a tense silence as the woman advanced toward the cabinet. With a swift kick, Alatar's mother thwarted her, seizing Alatar and guiding him through the rear of the house. She implored, pushing him away, "Run, my child! Get out!"

Alatar, in shock, stuttered, "But, Mother!" His thoughts were interrupted by his father's arrival, bloodied, wielding a shattered shield.

"Son... listen to your mother," his father urged, stepping forward. "You need to g—" The wall shattered, and the Demon emerged, flames engulfing its hand into a chained mace. "There he is," the woman declared as the father positioned himself protectively. "Give us the boy, and we'll end your lives swiftly."

Smirking defiantly, the father moved Alatar behind him. "Run," he ordered, unsheathing his sword and dropping his shield.

Alatar retreated, and his parents engaged in a harrowing battle. "ALATAR!" A voice called from his left. Spying Darwin, he witnessed the horror unfolding before him. "Don't leave me... please..."

"D-Darwin..." Alatar turned, witnessing his mother engulfed in flames, her gaze fixed on him with a final smile, while his father fell to a mace thrust through his chest. Fearful, Alatar watched his father retaliate, piercing the Demon's head. Locking eyes with him, his father gasped, "RUNNNNNNNNN!!!!"

Alatar sprinted into the forest, evading fireballs and chaos. Dodging amidst trees and bushes, he finally reached an open field, the setting sun before him. Exhausted but determined, he smiled weakly, "I can make it... I can ma—" A searing pain struck his back, and he collapsed. "Huh?... What happened..." I can't move... I can't feel my body," darkness encroached.

Alatar awoke on an altar, surrounded by witches carving into his back. Agonizing screams escaped him, tears flowing uncontrollably.

"Now, as the blood of The Old Demon King flows through your veins, you wi—" The witch's words halted as an arrow struck her, chaos erupting. More arrows freed Alatar from his chains.

A familiar voice urged, "Alatar! Run! Avenge our people! Destroy them!" "D-Darwin's Grandpa… I-I promise… I'll destroy them all," Alatar vowed, his face etched with newfound rage. Crawling to a nearby creek, dirty and fatigued, he washed his face. A sinister voice echoed, "Poor child."

"Who's there?!" Alatar demanded, his heart racing with fear.

"Look down, child," the voice urged. Alatar glimpsed his reflection, twisted and distorted. Confused, he swiped at it.

"You are becoming aware... aware of my presence," the voice sinisterly echoed. "You... where are you? Who are you?!" Alatar's panic surged, unable to comprehend. "I am inside you, child. I am in your blood, your soul. I am the Demon King Samael. I've come to take you, Alatar Saliton." Alatar screamed as a fiery blaze ignited on his back, morphing into the form of the Demon King Vorgrimm. "I will use your body as my host and reclaim my throne," the Demon declared, reaching for Alatar's face.

Alatar jumps up from his bed in a cold sweat. "Stay Away!" he yells as he blocks his face. Frost looks at him. "You're awake, Alatar; it seems Mira was right after all. Now, who is Vorgrimm?"