Amidst the warm glow of the crackling fireplace, two figures stood, sharing a meal of freshly prepared stew from the hunt they had just ended. One figure loomed large, a pillar of strength, protection, and wisdom, while the other, small and yet on the path to fully grasp the magnitude of his potential, gazed up with awe and curiosity.

"Listen closely, Erik," said the older figure, his voice a blend of solemnity and paternal pride. This was Kaf Blake, a man of formidable presence yet gentle demeanor, his features mirrored in his son's youthful face.

"Within each of us lies a reservoir of untapped power—an essence known as the mana core," Kaf explained, his words punctuated by a flicker of flame dancing upon each of his fingertips, a manifestation of the very magic he described. "It is the source of all magic, the ember from which limitless possibilities are ignited."

Erik's heart raced with excitement, the memory of discovering his magical abilities still vivid. It had only been a few weeks since his powers had awoken during a scary encounter with bandits in the woods but he couldn’t wait to progress and achieve greatness.

After all, ever since he was a toddler, he had listened to his mom recount myths and legends of the Knights of the Roundtable and their immortalized adventures. Any kid who had the prospect to learn magic would be extremely excited about their future, and so would Erik. He couldn’t wait to be like the heroes of legend.

“So when can I do some magic like you do?” Erik straight up asked, knowing his father’s capabilities.

"It takes time, Erik, but don’t worry," Kaf said with a smile, noticing his son's eagerness. "Learning magic is like a never-ending path of betterment—it takes practice and patience. Even small steps count in pursuing the infinite possibilities it gives you and you must always stay hungry for more–and continue improving– as a true mage has infinite potential," he said with a smile. In his thirty-five years of life, Kaf had achieved a lot, and yet he knew that he was nowhere near close to his peak. He wanted his son to understand that one can always become better if they don’t give up.

Erik nodded, though he wasn't entirely sure he understood everything his father said. Still, he was determined to try his best, even if it meant taking things one step at a time.

“Let's try something simple," Kaf suggested, reassuringly touching Erik's shoulder. "Move your hands together but don’t let them touch. Close your eyes, and focus on the warmth in your chest. That's where your mana core resides. Imagine it residing inside your heart, resting but ready to ignite into something greater. Feel it move through your veins to the tip of your fingers," Kaf said, pausing for his son to follow along.

With a deep breath, Erik obeyed, shutting out the world's distractions. Slowly, he felt something moving within him, a faint flicker of energy pulsating at his core. It was small, barely perceptible, but it was there—an ember waiting to be stoked into flame. Slowly, Erik moved the heat from his heart onto his limbs, it went past his elbows, down to his fist, and finally rested at the end of his fingertips.

“Well done, Erik, you really have a gift within you,” Kaf warmly complimented his efforts as this wasn’t something a normal 8-year-old would be able to do. Well, Erik was his son after all.

Upon hearing his dad’s words, Erik opened his eyes with a grin ear to ear. He had sparks of fire between his fingertips, so weak that they would disappear from existence as soon as they appeared, but still held as something incredibly magical to the boy.

Erik would later wish he could’ve learned more from his father in the following days and weeks but unfortunately, Kaf was sent to war just two days after this memory.

A noble had come to the village with a small band of soldiers, they were going to all villages requesting two-thirds of able-bodied men to help with the war effort against the savage Demi-Humans. To save his fellow countrymen, Kaf showed his might to the noble and negotiated that only he should be taken as his strength surpassed that of hundreds of men.

Before going, Kaf asked Erik to promise that he would watch out for the family for him. Erik didn’t take him too seriously and agreed, not knowing that it was a promise he’d have to keep.

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It had been a year.

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Kaf stood atop a hill, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the dim light of dusk met the encroaching darkness. The wind cut through the bog like a cold, unwelcome whisper. He felt the damp chill seep through his worn-out gear. He had taken his position here hours ago, waiting for the enemy to come. His body, despite its formidable size and strength, betrayed him with each labored breath and the persistent ache in his chest.

The war had been relentless. For months, Kaf and his Brigade had been the frontline defenders, stationed in this godforsaken bog in order to protect the coastal cities that their Nation, Draac, had in this continental land.

However, the Demi-Humans were a coalition of vile creatures that had allied after centuries of fractured conflict. They were savage and numerous, and day after day, week after week they struck the duchess and encampments that were the frontline. They peeled off the lives of brave men little by little until little more than a thousand men were alive from the initial four thousand.

He was a dead man. Not only because he willingly sacrificed his life, telling everyone to flee, as he would serve as bait to the incoming army but because his body was breaking apart. Ironically, the mighty warrior had caught a lung disease. One incurable by everyone but the best priests or doctors—something his dwindling brigade.

Leaning back against a tree, Kaf’s mind wandered through the recent horrors he had witnessed. The sight of men being hanged for desertion was unbearable. They had been left hanging from trees, their faces hidden and their bodies marked by brutal beatings. The very officers who demanded their sacrifice were often the ones who would be the first to flee when the real battle came.

He recalled the screams of officers echoing through the foggy nights, their demands for sacrifices from the poor conscripted masses. The way they spoke, as if their words could shield them from the reality of their incompetence, made Kaf’s blood boil. He had seen young men, barely out of their teens, consumed by beasts so vile they barely resembled any creature that deserved to be called part-human.

In this quiet yet daunting moment, Kaf grappled with the grim reality of what he was facing. It was too much for anyone to bear. His sacrificed would however, save the remaining soldiers from the over ten times bigger army incoming. It would be a massacre. This brought him some comfort.

As the last rays of sunlight dissipated through the cold night, Kaf thought about his family.

‘Alice, Erik, Anna, Ben, I’m sorry I couldn’t come back but I hope you understand my decision,’ Kaf had already accepted his fate. He was happy with it, but he was fine with how things went. First, he sacrificed himself for his village, negotiating in a way that only he was sent to war—as he was much stronger than a normal person – instead of two out of three husbands and their grown children. Then he gave his life to his comrades.

Perhaps if life had gone differently, he would’ve been a true hero. One that Draac hadn’t seen since the times of Queen Arthur. But well, that didn’t matter now.

He reached into his worn armor and retrieved a small envelope he had carefully hidden there. The letter inside was simple but heartfelt, written by his hand. He had given it to William, his friend and fellow soldier, with a solemn request: “Please, deliver this to my family if you can. Tell them I fought to the end for what I believed in. I’m proud of them all.” It was but a copy of the original. He made it so that he could be firm in his convictions until the very end.

Kaf held the envelope for a moment longer, running his fingers over the creased paper. He imagined his family receiving it, reading his final words, and perhaps finding some solace in knowing that he had died without regrets.

His hand tightened, crumbling the paper even more. “Who am I lying to… I didn’t want to die like this…” Despite the façade of acceptance he tried to maintain, a part of him still clung desperately to life, wishing for more time, more chances.

The world didn’t give him time to think, however. Just as doubts appeared in his mind, the distant, low growls of the approaching beasts broke through his thoughts. He saw them emerging from the shadows: vile creatures running on all fours and others upright, from dozens of different species. The ground seemed to tremble beneath their combined weight, and their grotesque forms loomed closer.

Kaf rose to his feet, his resolve steeled for the final confrontation. He tightened the straps of his magic gauntlets, feeling the familiar surge of power course through them. Flames erupted around him, fueled by every bit of his dwindling mana, casting an otherworldly glow across the dark, desolate bog.

The battle that ensued was a ferocious carnage. Kaf fought with a relentless will, his every strike a testament to his unmatched strength. His gauntlets blazed with fire. Each swing, punch, kick, and spell carved a path through the horde, his flames searing through the night and turning the bog into a battle between light and darkness.

The next day when scouts arrived, they only found one being standing—Kaf. Although dead, he died on his feet and remained that way. His entire body was cut and bruised, a puncture on his chest showing his heart, his left forearm bitten through, almost torn apart completely. The right side of his head, evidence of a violent blow, had been torn apart, with part of his skull exposed and fractured.

His once mighty gauntlets were battered and worn, their violet gem shattered beyond recognition.

And yet, to the shock of all.

He didn’t have a single bruise on his back. Kaf never turned his back during the battle.

He was later known by the locals as “Kaf of the Ten Thousand Kills” a protector of the human cities nearby and a demon to the Demi Humans.