The morning sun painted the horizon in golden orange as dew clung to grass and leaves around the forest clearing. Arjun stood silently for a moment, eyes scanning the faces before him—his family. The ones who had chosen to follow him, despite having every reason not to. Then, with a firm clap of his hands, he drew everyone's attention.
"Alright," Arjun spoke, voice calm but carrying a weight of resolve. "First of all… thank you. For choosing to become my family."
The group stood in attentive silence—Vhim, Joxon, Manglu, Sarvad, Kripat, Zinga, Sarion, Hixomaru, Varad—and the few remaining slaves who now looked at him with uncertain hope.
"We've come far… but this is only the beginning. If we want to survive and grow, we need numbers. More family members. More power. More influence."
He paused, letting it sink in.
"So here's what I want each of you to do."
He raised one finger. "First: grow your family. Find people who are lost, abandoned, or just strong and willing to walk beside you. Every person you add will strengthen us—and in return, you'll receive rewards from the system."
Another finger. "Second: join a sect, or a knight order. Anywhere where power is cultivated. You need resources, training, recognition. Get stronger."
Third. "And this is optional—but I hope you'll all do it: free slaves. Help them. And if they're willing… add them to your family too. Set a goal—two hundred. At least."
They were murmuring now, some nodding, some thoughtful, all listening.
"Lastly… scatter."
His voice was lower now, but firm.
"You'll go on your own. Without me."
The air froze. A collective silence fell over the clearing.
"I'll find you again when the time is right. But from here on, we move separately. Hide our connection. If needed… pretend to be strangers. Pretend to be enemies even. But never raise a real blade at each other. Remember—family cannot kill family."
They were still digesting his words when Vhim stepped forward, his face trembling with emotion, Manglu and Joxon quietly standing behind.
"Bro… I'll do everything you said," Vhim said, voice shaking. "But don't leave us. Not like this. Stay with us. Go with us."
Arjun looked down at him gently. "Vhim. This isn't just about me. Every one of you has a path now. A mission. If we stay together, it'll be obvious. We'll be targeted. But if we scatter, we can root ourselves deep into every faction, every corner of this world."
He paused—then smirked internally. 'Should I bluff? Let's do it.'
"But don't worry," he continued, louder now so everyone could hear. "In five years… we'll meet again. That's when the War of Servants will begin."
That caught everyone's attention. "So until then… train. Grow. Become kings wherever you stand. So that when the war starts… we won't need to fear anyone."
Vhim burst into tears. "But…"
Arjun stepped forward and wrapped him in a hug—tight and firm. "It's okay, brother. Live… to become a king."
He pulled back and raised his voice.
"LIVE TO BE A KING!"
The air ignited with energy. One by one, voices shouted back:
"LIVE TO BE A KING!"
"LIVE TO BE A KING!"
Their words rang like thunder in the dawn, hearts filled with purpose.
Then, while the light warmed the land and the horses were saddled, Vhim and Joxon turned to the remaining slaves. One by one, they offered freedom. Those who accepted were embraced—literally and symbolically—into the growing family.
Names were shared. Bonds were made. Systems awakened.
And then… the journey began.
Wagons rolled. Hooves echoed against stone as one group after another set off toward different directions—toward distant clans, noble houses, hidden sects, and mysterious orders.
They were scattered.
But they weren't broken.
They carried a promise.
Arjun stood alone, watching them disappear into the mountain's winding trails. He let out a long breath, stroking the horse by his side.
"…And now I return home."
He mounted his horse, quiet and thoughtful.
His heart was uneasy, not because of where he was going—but because of what might be waiting. He didn't know what he'd find in the village. What had changed? Who was still alive? What truths lay buried beneath the surface?
But still… he had to go.
No matter how painful the past was, it was still his.
And maybe, just maybe… it could be different this time.
*
*
*
Two days had passed since Arjun had parted ways with his family.
He traveled alone, his thoughts weighed down by the storm of questions swirling in his mind—about the world, the truth of his system, his memories, and what the future held. But above all, there was one pressing question.
What had become of his home?
The sun dipped low behind the jagged cliffs as Arjun reached the hill overlooking the area where his village used to stand. The air was unnaturally still.
He stopped.
His breath caught.
Before him was nothing but ruin—ashen soil, scorched trees, and silence broken only by the faint crackling of burnt wood. The village was gone. No homes. No laughter. No lights.
Just death.
Night began to fall, and shadows crept over the land like silent predators. The smell hit him next—burnt flesh, rot, and something far worse. He stepped forward, slowly, his eyes scanning the desolation.
Dead bodies. Some half-eaten. Some barely recognizable. Some—children.
He dismounted from his horse, numb, trying to comprehend what he was seeing.
Then—rustle.
The bushes nearby moved.
A shadow darted.
Before he could react, thunk—his horse collapsed.
Headless.
Blood sprayed from the neck stump, soaking the dead earth beneath.
Arjun blinked.
But this time, he didn't feel horror. He didn't panic.
Instead, he calmly opened his inventory, and summoned a standard steel blade.
He had trained too long for fear to take over now.
Then it appeared.
A small, twisted figure—a child's corpse, mutilated and rotting. Black veins pulsed through its limbs, and its mouth hung wide open, teeth jagged and unnatural.
It charged him, eyes glowing with crimson rage.
Arjun swung his blade—clink!
The sword snapped clean in half on contact.
Arjun staggered back, barely dodging as the corpse lunged at him. Dirt sprayed under their feet.
He summoned another weapon. Closed his eyes.
Breathe.
The way Sage Sharun's name had been used. The way they'd trained for three months.
Inhale. Hold. Focus.
Exhale. Strike.
This time the long sword glided through the creature's neck with a clean slice—as if cutting dried wood.
The corpse fell, twitching for a moment… then still.
Arjun stood silent.
"This confirms one thing," he muttered. "Breathing techniques exist… and they work in this world."
But as he raised his eyes again, his relief was short-lived.
More figures emerged from the darkness.
Children.
Dead children.
Demonic and twisted.
Dozens of them.
And then, in the middle of them all, stood a familiar figure. Thin. Shaking. With hollow sockets where eyes used to be. But something was wrong—its skin was not pale like Manglu's… it was crawling. Living. Demonic.
And then it smiled.
"Manglu…?" Arjun whispered.
A voice replied, sharp and cruel.
"Come, come, my dear brother Arjun. Come…"
It wasn't Manglu's voice.
Arjun gritted his teeth. "Who are you?"
The thing that wore Manglu's face laughed—long and loud.
"Oh! So you know I'm not him. How clever. Did you find the boy's corpse? Is that why you returned? Alone?"
Its mouth split wider, unnaturally wide. "But it's too late."
It spread its arms, the horde behind it groaning in unison.
"I killed everyone. Every last one. Even your sweet old grandfather."
Its laugh was madness. "Yes. I am the demon who slaughtered them. Then I stole the body of that pathetic child. And now I hunt… I feed. I feast on hope and flesh. What will you do now, hero?"
Arjun stared at it, unreadable.
Silence.
Then, calmly, he spoke—his voice just a whisper.
"Yeah. I can't do anything right now… But... I'll come back."
The demon flinched.
Not from the words.
But from the voice. The quiet resolve that laced it.
The voice that wasn't shaking. That didn't beg. That didn't tremble.
A voice that made it feel, for the first time in centuries—threatened.
"What did you say…?" the demon hissed.
Arjun didn't repeat.
Instead—
"Teleport."
A flash of light.
He was gone.
The creature screamed, clawing at the air. "NOOOO! My prey!!"
Its body twitched, twisting like smoke. Its arms spread wide again.
"…He'll return. Oh, he will return. And when he does…"
Its tongue flicked over its black lips.
"I will devour him. I'm obsessed with him now. That scent. That soul. So… tasty…"
It threw its head back and laughed in madness.
Darkness swallowed the night.