The sky above them was not clear, but it was not stormy either. It was as if it was stuck between two states, belonging to neither. Gray clouds crawled slowly, as if confused, unsure whether to leave or stay. Beneath that sky stood a man whom people described as a legend—not because he wished it, but because they wanted a hero.
Kyle Nizgaroth.
A name echoed through the fields like children chanting a morning hymn. The bearer of the silver sword, the moon halo wielder, the killer of the savage leader "Orth Gal," the last lord of the talking Shadow Forest. And now, in the midst of a bloody, great battle beyond description, he stood.
Kyle advanced toward Orth Gal, with a majestic aura, his body covered in the blood of his enemies, his silver eyes shining like a full moon. His steps were slow... and terrifying.
Heavy rain poured, mixing with the blood of victims that covered his face like an endless crimson sea.
Orth Gal felt fear, then asked with annoyance:
– "Why do you fight with them? We did not attack you, nor did we harm you. Why do you defend humans?"
Kyle replied coldly:
– "Since when do vile monsters like you have the right to interfere in my decisions?"
Orth Gal grew angry and shouted:
– "How dare you mock me? I am one of the kings of the Shadow Forest! This is an unforgivable sin!"
Gal rushed to attack, but Kyle, without moving much, raised his hand, and spectral swords formed around his aura, then he launched them at his opponent, piercing him mercilessly.
Gal fell to the ground, stunned:
– "What is this insane power? Where did this man come from? He is terrifying... unbelievably so!"
His soldiers ran toward him, shouting:
– "We will help you, my lord!"
But Orth Gal screamed in his dying moments:
– "Do not come closer! Run! He is a monster... you cannot defeat him!"
But his scream came too late.
Kyle raised his hand, then forcefully lowered it, causing a wave of overwhelming aura to explode around him, eradicating the monsters completely.
Orth Gal shouted in his last moments:
– "My soldiers! You cursed devil... where did you come from? Where did you get this power?!"
His body trembled, sweat drenched him despite the heavy rain. Fear carved his features.
He muttered:
– "If only I had your strength... if only I were you... maybe I would have lived a happy life... collected riches... instead of this miserable end..."
Kyle looked at him with eyes that had lost passion, and said in a low voice:
– "Do you consider yourself great just because you controlled a handful of weak monsters? And what if you had money? Power? Authority? You'd rejoice for a year... ten years... maybe a hundred... but you would grow bored. Because you bought everything: food, women, fighters, armies... then what? You'd begin to fall."
He paused briefly, then continued:
– "Power becomes tasteless when you find no one to oppose it. Money becomes meaningless when there is nothing left to buy. Everything loses its value when it is no longer scarce. I... owned everything: authority, power, money, armies, everything... but am I happy?"
He stared at him and added:
– "No. I was happy for the first three centuries... because everything was new. But after five hundred years? Everything became repetitive... boring... empty."
– "The value of things lies in their scarcity... but for me? Everything I have is limitless... and for that reason, I am bored."
He approached him, looked at him one last time, then said:
– "Do you understand now? Though I know... you will not be convinced. It does not matter. This... will be your last night."
Orth Gal was trembling. He had fought the wrong man.
He asked in a hoarse voice:
– "Who... are you? How did you live all this time? Even we monsters don't live as long as you!"
Kyle answered coldly:
– "A vile creature like you does not deserve to know the answer."
Then he cut off his head, raised it with his aura, looked at the ugly head, and muttered:
– "Tch, what a disgusting head."
After finishing off the monsters and their leader, Kyle retreated calmly.
The kingdom's knights, who witnessed the scene, shouted with joy, morale soaring, then attacked with even stronger momentum.
Kyle returned to the military meeting tent. He lifted the curtain, entered with steady steps, then threw the monster's head on the table:
– "Here is the leader's head. The mission is over. I want my reward."
Silence prevailed. Then General Louian whispered to himself:
– "What a terrifying power... lucky for us that he is on our side. I don't understand how the king convinced him to help... but it doesn't matter, the important thing is he succeeded."
Then he shouted loudly:
– "We have won! Rejoice, my soldiers!"
Cheers erupted, and the soldiers were overwhelmed with hysterical joy after years of fierce wars against the monsters of the Shadow Forest.
The army returned to the capital, and the city welcomed them with flowers and chants shaking the sky. Kyle's name was shouted in every street as if he were a sacred savior.
The entire city stood on its feet. Thousands of bodies, millions of cheers. Roses were thrown on his path. Eyes wept with joy and gratitude.
As for him? He was silent. Neither frowning nor smiling. Just... silent. A heavy silence.
He passed through the crowd as if his body was present but his soul soared in the heights.
He said bitterly to himself:
– "Ah... really, I am tired of all this. Every time... the same roses, the same applause. That is enough. I will take my reward... then leave this kingdom."
He arrived at the royal palace and was received by the chief servant, who muttered to himself:
– "So, this is the legendary Kyle... I've heard a lot about him, and this is the first time I see him. I don't know how the king managed to hire a man like him."
Then he said aloud:
– "Please, the king awaits you."
Kyle entered the throne room. The king and queen were there.
The king said in a majestic voice:
– "You have saved our kingdom, Kyle... as you always do. We owe you everything."
Kyle nodded respectfully but said nothing.
The queen noticed the paleness in his eyes, as if they did not belong to the scene, and whispered:
– "Is everything alright?"
Kyle gave a faint smile:
– "Yes... everything is fine."
He entered their palace. Victory wine was served. Golden dishes were presented. But his heart was elsewhere.
In his room, he sat contemplating his silver sword, and a thought that he could no longer bury echoed in his mind:
"What is the value of victory if there is nothing you fear losing?"
He had fought a lot. Saved... destroyed... ascended... shattered. Achieved what others did not, and people saw him as a god. But he... no longer saw anything in himself.
Glory? It repeated. Battles? Repeated. Pain? Became familiar. And the most dangerous? Something inside him... began to wither.
In the mirror of his room, he did not see himself as a hero, but as a man chasing a shadow... the shadow of his old self, when the first strike shook his being, when the fight awakened something alive inside him.
That night, while the world slept celebrating, Kyle decided to leave.
Not searching for a new enemy... but for the self he lost in the bustle of victories.
He no longer sought a battle, nor an opponent to raise his determination, but a meaning, a reason to keep going, something that could make his heart beat again, not just blood spilled, nor victories counted.
His soul was burdened with questions, and the only answer on the horizon was deep silence.
In that silence, Kyle realized that the real battle was not outside, but inside him, where shadows extend to strangle him, where doubts gnaw at his will, and where loneliness traps him mercilessly.
Before he dozed off, he whispered to himself:
"Perhaps… the end of this journey is not on the battlefield, but in finding what I lost long ago... hope."