Most of the things written were events from a thousand years ago.
The war between humans and demons. The brutal battles. The feared Demon Generals. The cruelty of the Demon King.
If anything felt exaggerated, it was the way Clarsen's evil was blown out of proportion and how Eric's heroism was polished to a blinding shine.
The books painted Eric as a god—like he alone turned the tides of history.
But there were millions who gave their lives in that war. Countless others who were just as important—people without whom the world might still be drowning in darkness.
'This doesn't feel like history… it feels like a novel. Eric's the hero, Argrouth the villain.'
As Arthur kept reading, he found several mentions of Grace too.
The betrayal she faced. Her pain.
...and it would be a lie to say his heart didn't tremble when he read that Grace married Eric after Clarsen's death.
There were even books dedicated to their love story—how Eric helped Grace heal from her past, how they became a symbol of love and hope for humanity.
'Grace…' Arthur sighed as his eyes landed on a hand-drawn portrait of her.
He had actually met Grace back when he was assigned as her escort.
At that time, Clarsen was still a wild beast trying to find his place in the world. His life had always been about surviving the present. Death didn't scare him—because he had nothing to lose.
But after meeting her... after really knowing her... he began to fear for his life. Because for the first time, he had something to protect. Something he didn't want to lose.
She was the sun that lit up his darkness. The one who transformed him from a beast into a man.
Grace was endlessly patient. Even though her father disapproved of their relationship, she never left Clarsen—nor did she abandon her family.
She never asked him to change. She stood by him when he was just a knight, struggling to survive in a world that barely noticed him. She knew every scar he carried—even the ones he never spoke about.
Grace knew how much it hurt him to remember his parents, though he never said a word. She just knew.
She wasn't just his lover. She was his friend, his teacher, his anchor.
People might laugh if they heard it, but it was Grace who taught him how to read and write—so he could qualify for the noble title.
She never asked for anything. She only gave. Sweet. Bright. Unshakably kind.
Though she didn't speak much, her eyes always told him everything she felt.
However, the only thing Clarsen gave her was betrayal.
Her father, Duke Williams, was actually helping the demons to infiltrate the human camps. Clarsen got the news of it, but since he was not informed by his demonic comrades at that time, he used an excuse to execute the Duke and everyone who was traveling with him at that time.
...and in the carriage, Grace's mother and sister were too.
'My hands are dyed with the blood of innocent people...' Arthur could never call himself a hero since, toward his goal of world peace, he has killed numerous innocent people.
And for that sin, there was no forgiveness.
'Haa...I should practice some spiritual magic...' Deciding to divert his mind a little, he sat down in the lotus position, closed his eyes, and started to focus.
....completely unknown of what was happening in the outside world.
°°°°°°°°
It was a chaotic sight.
People were running out of their houses, screaming and stumbling, while others hid behind doors, under carts, or inside wells—anywhere they thought the monsters wouldn't see them. The demonic hounds had come out of nowhere, their black fur matted with blood, their eyes glowing like burning coals. They moved in packs, tearing through the town like wildfire.
One woman ran with her child, but the beasts were faster. One hound leaped through the air and crushed the man beside her, its claws sinking into his chest as he screamed.
Blood sprayed across the walls and the child's face. The mother froze for a moment, shaking, before grabbing her son and fleeing down an alley, her sobs muffled by the roars behind her.
Soldiers tried to hold their ground. A few formed lines, spears ready. "Hold!" one of them shouted—but before he could finish, a hound pounced on him, snapping his neck like it was nothing.
Others rushed in, slashing with swords, but for every beast they struck down, two more took its place.
Some fighters stood their ground with skill. A tall man in silver armor cut down one hound after another, his blade flashing red with blood.
A woman archer perched on a rooftop kept firing arrows into the chaos, dropping a beast just before it lunged at a group of kids.
But it wasn't enough.
The streets were painted red. Bodies lay scattered—some torn in half, others burned or bitten beyond recognition. A merchant tried to crawl away, his leg gone, leaving a thick trail of blood. A soldier screamed as he was dragged into a building, his cries ending with a sickening crunch.
Smoke rose from burning homes. The air stank of blood, fire, and fear.
And amidst the chaos, a huge demonic monster of about fifteen feet in height, with a bulging belly and dark green skin, moved through the town.
It swung its massive club and destroyed the formation of soldiers, a few of them got crushed to death.
The heat its body produced burned anyone who tried to get near it. The path on which it walked was charred because of the heat.
They were trained soldiers but only a few of them were awakened. And under the sheer strength and speed of the demonic beast, they couldn't resist.
"Call the Baron!" One of the adventurers demanded as he pushed away the hound using his shield.
His muscles were bulging as he used the basic skill of body Strengthening' to withstand the monster's onslaught.
"He is out of the town! We are cornered here!" The woman who was raining arrows using her skill alone responded in a loud tone as she aimed at the nearby hound.
"Kella!" Someone shouted her name, but the archer girl didn't have time to move away before a huge boulder came in her direction, and her body was crushed under the weight.
The nearby soldiers gritted in fear and anger as they looked at the huge troll that was toying with their lives.
Amidst the chaos, a single hound made its way towards the mansion near the far end of the town.
The main door was broken and inside the house, a certain blond boy, covered with wounds and his left hand missing, was holding the hound with his remaining hand.
The sound of door banging could be heard and Virelle's cry echoed through the house. However, Kevin had no intention of opening the door.
'Until Mother and Art are safe...it's all good.' With those thoughts, Kevin pushed the hound with all the strength he had.
The hound growled as it glared at the small boy.
Kevin clenched his fist and looked at the hound as he took a battle stance.
"This much is not enough to take me down."
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A/N:- Uh....well...yeah. See ya.