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Although I was born in a human body, I did not understand humans. It’s been that way ever since the moment I was thrown into this world, opened my eyes, and took my first breath. It was not just because it was a confusing time. I guess it’s just because I was born that way.
Akrita, I said.
Parents gave their child a name.
There was no particular meaning. It must have been a name that meant living a safe life, just like other parents do. It was a simple wish, but considering the times, it was an extremely heavy desire.
Because it was a time of confusion.
Because it was a time of war.
War, struggle, slaughter… To prove the greatness of the god they each serve, the lives living on this earth chose the simplest means. They became God’s weapons, arms, and feet and raced across the continent.
It was a time of war and chaos.
Numerous transcendents floating in the sky.
A continent divided according to the ten thousand wishes of the All Gods, and countless races who raised weapons to prove themselves right. A war started by calling each other heretics.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
Caught up in their struggle, Akrita lost her parents. They shed tears as they worried about their children until the moment of death… but in front of the death of his parents, Arcrita only tilted his head.
The blood they shed, the moisture they shed, from all of it, Akrita felt nothing.
As she walked alone, Akrita watched the humans from afar. I have seen their struggles, and sometimes fought alongside them from close quarters. There was a time when I had quite a reputation. At some point, Akhrita was called ‘Cheonhye’.
He is a genius sent from heaven. It is a blessing from heaven. At first glance, it looks like a doll because it has no facial expression. He is one of the few useful talents in the miserable human species.
Despite the numerous compliments, Akrita’s expression did not change. Even if he lost his comrades, shed blood, or heard voices criticizing him, Arc Rita remained indifferent in any situation. She lived without any change in her expression.
Because I couldn’t understand.
Because I couldn’t understand, because I didn’t want to understand.
If I live like this, one day I will die like them. Thinking like that, Akrita wasted her life. Nothing could make Akrita’s heart beat, and nothing could give her joy.
“You can kill me.”
What brought about such a change in Akrita’s life.
“You can kill me, so please save my men. They are innocent. I will pray like this. You can do whatever you want with me, at least to these guys…”
It was a meeting with a general.
The general was a capable person who could be called the right hand of a certain god, and at the same time, he was a proud person. He was famous as a person who never bowed his head even if the opponent was a god.
That person bowed his head in front of him.
He was on his knees, burying his head in the mud, pleading. Ask her to spare her own men. Although he was proud at the time of his defeat, he became extremely humble when his beloved subordinates were taken hostage.
Contradictory. This side. The true feelings that are hidden.
Akrita grabbed the hair of the general whose head was stuck in the mud. He lifted up and looked him in the eye. Unlike his own colorless eyes, the general’s eyes were shining with many colors. The light did not just mean color.
It is the color of emotions. Colorful, shining emotions, something Akrita never had. The moment he encountered it, he was intrigued.
Isn’t such a proud general trembling in front of me? Isn’t he terrified? How on earth did that general not even scream when subjected to harsh torture? Why do I care so much about my men?
“Bring it.”
No, no.
Akrita had a woman sit in front of the general. He was the secretary of the general who was held hostage, and was known as the general’s weak point. The moment he made eye contact with the woman, the general’s gaze wavered. Akrita did not miss the shaking.
In the first place, what was important to the general was not his subordinates. It must have been this woman mixed in among the men who were taken hostage by her.
The general was just trying to protect himself, and he probably thought that if he could save this woman, the rest would be fine. In order to bring out his hidden true feelings, Acrita made a suggestion to the general.
“I will kill you and all of your men, but I will spare this woman.”
or.
“Kill this woman and spare all your men and yourself.”
“Choose,” Akrita whispered.
Akrita cut off the head of one of his subordinates who tried to raise his voice by saying that you had no such right. Akrita’s eyes sparkled in front of the scattered blood. Akrita spoke from inside the silent barracks.
“I’ll give you time to count to ten.”
decreasing time.
The sound of dry needles. The way the pupils roll. Exhaled breath. When the pronunciation that started from one reached nine, the general answered. He gritted his teeth and squeezed out his voice with shaking gaze. The general chose the path of saving only the woman.
He did as he wished.
Akrita walked out of the barracks, holding the general’s head. He killed the detachment of the general who had taken him hostage and all of his soldiers. As his soldiers screamed, the general looked away from them. On top of the bloody field, the general just held his breath.
The moment I returned to the barracks.
The general made eye contact with the woman and let out the breath he had been holding. There was something wrong with him, but he seemed to have decided that it was over. Akrita, who was looking at that scene, waved her hand lightly.
Suddenly.
Akhrita cut off the woman’s head.
The moment he saw the woman’s neck falling at an angle in front of the general, his eyes opened wide.
1 second, 2 seconds, 3 seconds.
At first it was the pupil of an eye. Her wide-open eyes were bloodshot. Next was the mouth. The closed lips trembled and opened, and the moment they opened, sound escaped. The sound that escaped was a scream. Acrita looked at the general who was screaming and yelling and running towards her.
iced coffee.
ah.
Ah, I do.
Akrita sighed.
The corner of his mouth moved for the first time.
What came out between the upturned lips was a smile. When her true feelings that she had been hiding came out, when her beliefs were trampled upon, and as a result, Acrita listened to the screams of a human being breaking down.
I couldn’t understand any of it though.
As much as that scream.
The scream of a human being being crushed inside made his heart beat.
In Akrita’s eyes, it looked like a more beautiful work of art than anything else. Because he was a general who was called indomitable, because he was a person who was called a hero by his people, and because his life was shining… that scream was all the more valuable. It was sweet.
Suddenly.
Akrita lightly swung her hand and decapitated the general. He stuffed the general’s distorted face into death. So he made the general’s head his work of art.
On that day, Acrita left the army, holding only the head of the general he had killed. He traveled all over the world and began collecting art. At first it was someone’s head, and then it became someone’s body.
Then it became someone’s life.
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It was a woman who stopped Akhrita from stealing his head, his body, and his life. She is a woman with green eyes and white hair.
“you.”
Discipline.
“Are you absolutely crazy?”
Gletus of Discipline.
The tower at the end, the top floor.
Akrita, who was thinking about the past, slowly opened her eyes.
“······.”
The madman opened his eyes and burst into laughter.
Memories contained within one’s true body. He let out a long breath, thinking over memories from a long time ago.
“Whoa…”
The madman rested his chin on the throne and looked at the things he had collected. Filling the huge cavity are the corpses of heroes from an era. A stuffed hero. Those dolls were a record of the life a madman lived.
Fragments of a life taken, hijacked, stolen.
Madmen lived their lives in their own bodies.
I offered them two options and watched them struggle between the two paths. While they were in agony on the road that brought only destruction no matter where they chose, the madman felt that he was alive.
Although nothing brings joy.
Only the moment when a person’s life was ruined and that life was crushed made the madman feel alive.
“It’s not like it used to be.”
However, it is not like the old days.
The madman clicked his tongue as he looked at the people gathered here. It really isn’t like it used to be. The madman let out a long breath, recalling the past.
The ancient times. In that era when countless gods were at war, all humans shone brightly. There were so many shining people, that with just one step, every corner was full of art.
‘It was peaceful for a while, but…’
What was it like in ancient times?
Even in the era when the world was covered by the master of ten thousand demons, a disaster of his own making, countless heroes were born. It’s a shame that we couldn’t collect the brightest heroes… but art definitely existed even in this era.
But what about today’s times?
It’s so peaceful. There aren’t enough trials for a brilliant hero to emerge. After all, isn’t even the devil going to fall soon? A trial was needed. Greater trials, chaos, and turbulent times were needed for the birth of a hero.
So shouldn’t we go back?
Shouldn’t we once again bring to this land the era of chaos in which we were born?
“And, if that happens…”
The madman let out a chuckle.
“You can scream too.”
Akrita’s eyes looked very far away. Beyond the horizon, far beyond… a separate country that exists one step further from the world. The madman laughed as he looked at where the ancient dragon city was.
Jormun Van Dragonic.
A wizard who lost the woman he tried to protect with everything he had. Nonetheless, this is a character who does not despair and is pathologically obsessed with the discipline left behind by her woman.
“If discipline is broken, if everything she has left is shattered… you too can scream.”
The screams of an ancient dragon that has festered for tens of thousands of years are bound to be beautiful. It could become a more beautiful work of art than anything else. The madman rested his chin and let out a long breath. Because I knew that time was not far away.
A presence was felt in the wilderness.
The blades that Raniel Van Trias had forged to fight him arrived in the wilderness. Sensing their popularity, the madman slowly stood up.
Sloshing.
Every time the madman took a step, the shadow shook. A shaking shadow engulfed the cavity. Shadows seeped into the people who had been stuffed with screaming faces. And then, he flinched.
The corpses began to move.
The sight of moving corpses is not bizarre. It doesn’t creak like the corpses reanimated by necromancers. It is smooth, neat, and there is no waste in the movement. It’s as if it was copied exactly from when it was alive.
The madman pointed to the wilderness outside the tower.
The heroes of the past began to move toward the wilderness. Kakakang, a shadowy weapon was pulled out from their waists. Some are bows, some are spears, and some are swords.
Thump, thump, thump.
The madman laughed as he looked at the hundreds of corpses moving and shaking the ground. He is a record of the life he has lived. He has collected many, many, many pieces of art. The madman looked behind them as they moved outside the tower.
“Skeval, it looks like a guest has arrived.”
【■■, ■■■■■■. ■■■■■■■■■.】
“Okay, okay, this is my friend.”
The madman pretended to cover his ears. The madman touched my ear and walked deeper into the tower. The madman laughed as he walked.
Gehete, the place where death is silent.
Raniel, who was walking in the vast wilderness, suddenly stopped. “Hmm,” she said, smoothing her chin. As if there was something blocking it.
“Hey, Kyle.”
“What.”
“What is it?”
Raniel glanced at Kyle with his eyes wide open.
“So how did you wake up? Now that I think about it, I heard you were interrupted while talking earlier. How did you wake up?”
I forgot to listen to the explanation because the topic of the story jumped to the other side. Kyle also let out a short sigh, thinking, “Oh, sorry.”
“I forgot to explain.”
Kyle answered briefly.
“The disciple of the Ash Goddess awakened me.”
“···what?”
Kyle said to Raniel who blinked.
“Destel, the second apostle of the Ash Goddess.”
fantasy,
