Chapter 1:

The Monster

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He was a monster. A being whose existence should not belong in this world, nay, in this entire universe and all that is beyond.

Amidst a dense river-like crowd made up entirely of silvery armored men, a white-haired young man can be seen walking slowly through the mass as if he was taking an ordinary stroll.

But with each step a wave of agonized screams would sweep throughout the battlefield. Accompanied with that, explosions of a thousand hue lit up not only the pale sky, but the dull ground as well. Once the light has died down, one would instantly notice that the ground has changed color. A deep crimson red had replace the dullness of the earth. And the space in which nearly three thousand soldiers once stood was no where to be seen, except for the red river that appeared in their place.

As each flash occurred, the numbers of the soldier quickly dwindled down. Bloods sprayed everywhere before they finally found peace on the ground. The young man continued to move forward. His white hair gently blowing in the wind.

Strangely, no matter how much blood splashed around in the air, the young man’s hair, which was as white as the winter snow, remained pure and undyed. Similarly, his emotionless expression did not change even as the soldiers around him howled in pain before silence ensued.

Merlin could only stand mortified at the spectacle that he was witnessing before him. He was previously stationed at the back of the huge army, commanding the soldiers to engage the young man who was slowly, but surely, approaching them despite the power of nearly 2,000,000 soldiers. As he watched nearly half of his soldiers get decimated by the lone warrior, he instantly recognized that the flashes were actually caused by something one would call “magic.”

Magic. A power that could easily influence the course of events through the activation of one’s soul energy, in other words, “mana.” In this world, there are multiple types of magic, but they can all be categorized based on their level of difficulty, power, and cast time. In this way, they are ordered as follow from the weakest to strongest:

Low-level Magic: ex) a single small fireball

Mid-level Magic: ex) a single huge fireball

High-level Magic: ex) multiple enormous fireballs

Grand-level Magic: ex) a fiery comet that strikes down from out of space.

Most people end up only being able to use low-level magic, while some improve to mid-level, a handful may reach high-level, but no one has yet to be able to cast grand-level magic.

But, unfortunately to learn magic, less to even to use it, one must have the aptitude and talent for it. If not, a normal person attempting to learn such arts would take nearly hundreds of year before finally able to grasp its essence, which in other words: it’ll be impossible.

Because of that, even now in this world there is only at maximum 1,275 individuals with the ability to utilize this power. They are granted the title “Mages” in recognition of their talent. Merlin is one of such beings. Although these mages are scattered across the 7 Kingdoms that inhabit this world, however, each and every one of them had gathered on this bloody battlefield.

Their objective? To stop and eliminate the young man that is gradually approaching them.

But this has proved to be nearly an impossible task.

Even with the combination of all 7 Kingdom’s soldiers and mages, the monster could not be stopped. With a wave of his hand to the right, a huge, fiery explosion appeared and blew away nearly a thousand soldiers. A subtle flap of his left hand, an eruption of ice pierced the helpless masses. A forward step of his right foot, the earth began to crack open as hundreds of poor men fell to their end. Lights continued to flash around him and replace those caught up in it into puddles of their own blood.

Even so, Merlin was not merely petrified because of this monstrous display of strength. It was the magnitude of the spells he was using. Normally, a mage would at most be able to use 3 magical spells at a time upon the formation of each magical crest, with those especially talented in magic being able to use 5 at once. Although this was the common norm, the approaching man before him completely shattered what would be regarded as logic in this world.

As the man utilized one spell at a time from each brief movements of his body, various magical crests appeared in the sky around him and shot out powerful blasts that completely disintegrated his enemies. From Merlin’s guess, there were around at least several hundred crests appearing at once. But the shock did not end there...each one of the spells used were all considered to be Grand-level magic.

“‘A-Angry God’s Thunder’...’Asura’s Redemption’...’Crystallized Comet’...even ‘Inferno Hell’s Blare’...t-this cannot be possible!”

Merlin could only mutter quietly under his breath. The scene before him was surreal. How could one man possibly possess such inhumane strength? Where did he come from? Why have no one ever heard or witness him until now? How come he desires to destroy our kingdoms? What did we ever do to offend such being?

Only several days ago, the kingdom of Camelot had received a letter that declared war against not only them, but all the other 6 Kingdoms as well. That is why they had assembled such an gigantic army, only to find a young man walking towards them. And once they started to engage the young man, the situation ended up as now where nearly half of the soldiers and mages were effortlessly killed off. As if they were mere flies. As if it was natural as breathing air.

But even as Merlin tried to organize his thoughts, he was still unable to understand why the young man wanted to annihilate the kingdom, no, the world itself.

While he continued to pondered on the matter, he did not notice that all his forces of mages and knights had been completely wiped out until a beam of white light directly appeared before him.

The light seemed to shine brighter than even the sun itself as Merlin struggled to see through it. Upong further scrutinizing the blinding whiteness, he immediately realized that the armies were no more and instead, he saw the figure of a young man standing in front of him and holding a light that was shaped like a longsword in his right hand. The sword made out of light seemed to stretch into the Heaven itself.

As the young man’s striking dark eyes, which seemed to be the abyss itself, locked eyes with the old mage, Merlin knew it was over. He had failed to protect his kingdom, much less, this world from this monster. As he continued to helplessly stare at the young man, Merlin could only wryly smile as the beam of light came down towards him.

“...I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, King Arthur...”

Merlin gently whispered as suddenly he was enveloped in an intense, white radiance.

Then, all became one with the empty darkness.

To be continued...