It was night. Two gibbous moons shone down on a snow-cloaked forest, and the corner of a crescent moon peeked over the horizon.

Within the forest, a boy completely colorless hair continued his trek, tireless even after a week of the same. Abruptly, he came to a halt, staring at the space in front of him. As if this was a signal, four more figures appeared before him - each with five long, slender horns. "Your Majesty," they said as one, kneeling in unison.

The boy let out a long, weary sigh. With a single breath, he communicated an exhaustion that even the most world-weary elderly would not be able to comprehend. The four figures did not move, but if one examined their faces, one would find a carefully hidden sadness in their eyes. After all, they were meant to be his guardians, and the single breath reminded them that they had failed to protect their charge.

As the four great generals of the Demon King, their loyalty was unsurpassed. And so, they blamed themselves for the emotional scarring that the boy had undergone.

"The Demon King is dead," said the boy, "I am a simple wanderer."

The generals trembled, and one of them spoke out, saying "You will always be our king, Your Majesty, regardless of what you say."

The boy sighed once more, seeming to give up on the argument. He stepped past the still kneeling figures and continued his walk.

The four stood when he passed him, and watched, as still as statues, as the boy journeyed onwards. Then they simply disappeared, as if they had never been there.

The boy walked on, never turning back to confirm the departure of his most loyal followers. Eventually, sounds of clashing blades and the flickering light of a flame came into sight. Unruffled, the boy continued on his course.

The clashing of blades ceased.

A group of four bandits had overcome a surprisingly talented warrior, who had been equipped solely with half-plate armor and a blade, and somehow managed to hold them back for what the boy calculated as five minutes.

Although, the fight took place several miles from the road. The boy's superior senses had easily detected what had happened, but none of the participants of the struggle had noticed him. He could just continue walking without any hindrance, and he did just that.

Then after a few steps, he stopped. Within his mind flashed the memory of who he used to be, and who he wished to be. And for the first time, he realized that nothing held him back from changing.

[POV change]

Jax cursed his luck.[1] He had been on his way to Terbon, one of the major cities of the Irkej Kingdom, when he had been accosted by bandits. He had figured that, as Frigun was barely over, most bandits would not be watching the roads due to the usual lack of travelers.

He had been wrong.

During the night, Jax had awoken feeling that something was wrong, and armed himself just in case.

He was a natural warrior, after all. The man had learned to trust his instincts.

Upon their arrival, Jax had decided to fight rather than flee, as he trusted his natural talent for the blade. If he infused mana into his sword, even ten regular men would not have been his opponent. And few of those who were actually decent warriors would fall to banditry.

However, against all odds, two of the bandits were his equal in skill and magic, while the other two simply watched as he was defeated. Jax did not know whether this meant that they were too weak to participate, or so much stronger that they simply did not bother.

Now he was tied up and disarmed, presumably to be sold as a slave. Battle slaves at his level of skill would be worth almost a gold coin, enough for the bandits to live lives of luxury for a week or live simple lives for a month. Once more the man cursed his luck.

Suddenly, his bindings came loose.

Surprised he looked behind his back to find that the ropes that had held his hands had been had disappeared. Keeping his hands together, so as to keep this fact hidden from the bandits, the man looked up.

And realized that all four bandits had been chained.

Upon closer inspection, the chains were engraved with runes, which would make it impossible for any of the bandits to cast magic. That meant that no one needed to keep watch on these bandits - the chains would not break without the designated key. However, they were absurdly expensive and difficult to make, which was why the bandits had had to make do with regular ropes on Jax.

Confused, the man looked around his campsite, suddenly discovering something strange about his pack. Upon it lay a note and a key. The note was short and simple, and did nothing to alleviate the man's confusion.

It said, "Do with them as you wish."