That night, the moon shone pale in the sky, hanging low over the usually peaceful village of Dawn. However, that tranquil night turned into a blazing inferno. Black smoke billowed from all directions, shrouding the sky in dark shadows. The sounds of terrified screams and clashing weapons filled the air, instilling fear and panic in the hearts of anyone who heard them.
In the midst of the destruction, a young boy ran with all his might, his disheveled black hair covering part of his handsome, yet youthful, face. Arthur, the last heir of the Pendragon family, ran with every ounce of strength he had. His small body trembled with fear, but in his black eyes, there was a spark of determination born from the tragedy that befell him that night.
The village of Dawn, once full of life and always welcoming the dawn with warmth, was now consumed by flames. The raging fire licked the walls of the houses, turning wood to ash in an instant. Arthur, with his small frame, ran through the alleys he once knew, but now they seemed so unfamiliar and frightening. Every step he took led him further away from his shattered childhood, but closer to a future filled with vengeance.
Arthur's gaze halted when he saw his family home, a large building that had once been a place of refuge, now turned into a sea of fire. Dark-robed figures with imperial emblems stood arrogantly around the house, observing the destruction they had caused with cold eyes. Arthur's eyes narrowed, filled with burning hatred, but he knew this was not the time to fight. Not yet.
In the midst of all this, memories of the past suddenly surged into his mind—simple moments that now felt so distant. Arthur remembered sitting at the dining table with his father and mother, enjoying a meal made with love. His father's booming laughter filled the room as they joked, while his mother gently fed him vegetables he disliked. Those memories, though brief, brought a warmth that now felt so foreign amid the chaos surrounding him.
However, his reverie was cut short when Arthur's steps suddenly halted. Before him stood a man in a purple robe with knight's armor gleaming under the firelight. The man's gaze was cold, full of pent-up hatred, but beneath his calm exterior, there simmered cruelty. This man was Duke Alston, an imperial noble known for his cunning and brutality.
"Arthur," Duke Alston spoke in a calm yet threatening tone, his voice echoing amidst the destruction. "You know this is pointless. Your family is gone, there's nothing left for you here."
Arthur did not respond. Quickly, he drew his small sword—the last heirloom from his father—and prepared to fight. But before he could take a step, a powerful wave of magic struck him from behind, sending him crashing to the hard ground.
Arthur's vision blurred as he struggled to rise. His small body trembled with pain and fear, yet deep in his heart, anger began to resonate. **"Why? Why does it have to be this way? What did we do wrong?"** These questions kept swirling in his mind, but there were no answers. Only a growing hatred gnawed at his soul, igniting a fire of vengeance that burned ever brighter.
Duke Alston stepped closer, a cold smile curling on his thin lips. "You may be the last child of the Pendragon family," he said condescendingly, as if Arthur were nothing more than a minor nuisance. "But you're just a child. There's no place for you in this world."
Arthur gritted his teeth, trying to get up, but his body refused to move. "I can't forgive you," his inner monologue resounded in his mind, accompanied by the hatred that burned even hotter in his heart. "I will make you pay for every drop of my family's blood spilled. I will return. I will destroy you all!" Arthur threatened, but all of it was dismissed as mere babble by Duke Alston.
And at that moment, something inside him responded. His black eyes, filled with hatred, began to change. Slowly, red flower petals began to appear in his pupils, forming a terrifying yet mesmerizing pattern. The Wita Eyes—a legendary power feared by the empire—began to awaken, though Arthur had not yet fully realized it.
Duke Alston merely watched the change in Arthur's eyes with cold indifference, without a hint of fear. To him, Arthur was just a small child not worth pursuing. "He will soon die in the outside world," he thought as he turned away, leaving Arthur lying on the ground. To him, there was no point in chasing after a child destined to die alone.
However, Arthur did not give up. With the strength he had left and driven by the growing hatred within him, he forced his body to stand. With heavy breaths and pain coursing through every inch of his body, Arthur ran into the darkness of the night, leaving behind the village that had witnessed the destruction of his family.
As he ran farther away, the flames from the village of Dawn still flickered behind him, creating a haunting silhouette that would forever be etched in his memory. Yet, Arthur did not look back. He knew that if he stopped now, everything would be over. His determination to survive, to seek revenge, was the only thing that kept him moving forward.
That night, Arthur lost everything—his family, his home, and his childhood. But from that destruction, an unshakable resolve was born, one that would lead Arthur on a long journey filled with blood, magic, and vengeance. And one day, he would return—not as a frightened child, but as a force that would change the fate of this world.
"I swear I will have my revenge."