Slumping my face down on the open history book, exhausted, I let out a long sigh. The faint smell of old paper filled my nostrils, but I didn't mind—it was oddly comforting. Staying like that for a moment, I finally lifted my head and began mentally sorting through everything I had just read.
Even though I only skimmed the table of contents and cherry-picked the more significant events, the sheer weight of the knowledge was overwhelming. There was still so much left to cover, but that was a task for another day. For now, let me brief you guys about what I've gathered so far regarding the endless wars of this world and the peace that followed.
It's the classic tale you might expect: humans versus demons. Their battles raged for power, land, and dominion, and perhaps for reasons far beyond what the history books recorded. Were there other motives—religion, pride, survival? The details felt murky, shrouded in bias from both sides.
Who started the conflict? No one knew. The books didn't clarify, and perhaps no one alive now even cared. What mattered was the fact that the war lasted for nearly three millennia.
Neither side ever truly won. Sometimes the humans had the upper hand, and sometimes the demons did. But the pendulum of power always swung back, ensuring the cycle of bloodshed continued.
Desperation birthed innovation—and summoning heroes became a tradition for both sides. These heroes, plucked from another world, were thrown into an endless war that wasn't their own. Manipulated, molded, and ultimately used as pawns, they fought fiercely but ultimately for the agendas of others.
Then everything changed when an anomaly appeared.
The books described this figure as a storm incarnate, a force of nature that neither humanity nor demonkind could contain. He moved like an unstoppable hurricane, ending wars, toppling armies, and reducing battlefields to eerie silences in his wake.
He struck terror into his enemies, awe into his allies, and confusion into both.
They called him a man, though he was anything but ordinary. He had the monstrous strength and regenerative abilities of demons but bore the appearance of a human—an angel and a devil in one. His actions could be as compassionate as a saint's or as ruthless as a tyrant's.
But what cemented him as a true anomaly wasn't just his might. It was his unkillable nature.
Cut, pierced, burned, decapitated—even blown apart. No matter the injury, this man regenerated. He would simply rise again, like some horrifying specter, each time with the same calm yet deadly gaze.
Eventually, his true nature was revealed: he was a ghoul.
The revelation sent shockwaves through the world. A ghoul? No one wanted to believe it, from humans to demons alike. He was too absurd even for a ghoul as he claimed to be.
After all, ghouls were considered a vile race—monsters who haunted dark places, preying on flesh. They were hideous creatures with gray, leathery skin, sharp teeth, and glowing eyes. Their intelligence was rudimentary at best, and while their regenerative abilities rivaled even vampires, they lacked the nobility or elegance that might redeem them.
And yet, this man defied all expectations.
The book described him as having pale, smooth skin, striking features, and even a head full of hair—so unlike the bald monstrosities typically associated with ghouls. He had no sharp fangs, just a perfect set of human teeth, which made the stories about him all the more terrifying.
The defining moment came during a legendary battle against a group of summoned heroes. These champions of humanity, hailed as their greatest hope, faced him on the battlefield.
The book detailed the chilling scene:
With terrifying speed, the ghoul severed the arm of the heroes' leader before the man could even react. Standing there, holding the severed limb like a trophy, the ghoul grinned.
And then he bit into it.
The act sent shockwaves through the battlefield. He didn't just eat it. He savored it, licking his lips with a disturbing smile.
"You taste good, I give you that.." he reportedly said with a sing-song tone.
That was all it took. The heroes lost their nerve, their leader paralyzed with shock as his severed arm disappeared bite by bite.
After that… well, to put it simply, for the first time in history, humanity and the demonic side came together for a conference. Unprecedented as it was, both sides agreed that they couldn't defeat the ghoul, even if they joined forces.
Because of him, they called a truce.
Their united efforts to eliminate him had been futile. Instead, they suffered tremendous losses—war assets, elite forces, and even their most powerful figures.
Out of eight demon kings, five were erased from existence. Similarly, five of the strongest powerhouses on the humanity side were destroyed, their efforts ending in utter failure.
With no other choice, they invited him to the conference under a banner of peace.
When he arrived, unarmed yet imposing, they asked the question that burned in their minds:
"What do you want?"
His answer was shockingly simple: "Cease the war between you two."
The room reportedly fell silent. Some leaders were dumbfounded, others shocked. A few maintained an air of indifference, though it was clear they hadn't expected such a response.
Before anyone could respond, the ghoul continued. His next demand sent ripples through the gathering:
"I want land for myself."
The way it was described in the book, it wasn't so much a request as it was a statement of fact. He wasn't asking for permission; he was making it known.
And so, the world map changed.
The nations, once defined by constant warring, divided and distributed their lands. A significant portion was ceded to the ghoul monarch—a ruler in all but name.
I requested a map from Grandpa Wise through Sister Risu, and less than ten seconds later, it was delivered to my room via the convenient teleportation array. Risu unfolded the map onto the table for me, her fingers smoothing out the parchment.
"Here it is, young master," she said, gently pointing to different regions.
The map revealed seven continents spanning this planet.
Human Continents
Celesta
Orlan
Vestia
Demonic Continents
Infernos
Umbrax
Malvos
Neutral Continent
Noctis
Humanity's three continents housed three great empires, two large kingdoms, and one smaller kingdom. Meanwhile, the demonic continents were divided among the three surviving demon kings, each ruling an empire.
The neutral continent, Noctis, had no official rulers. However, powerful figures maintained balance and order. For example, one nation was governed by the Witch King, whose influence extended beyond its borders. It was also the homeland of my third mother.
"And this, young master," Risu said, her finger tracing downward, "is Ater."
My gaze followed her gesture to a country located in the southern region. It wasn't too big, nor was it too small. Its borders were fascinating—on one side, it faced the sea, while the right bordered a human empire, and the left touched a demonic empire.
"This country was not in any continents and where we stand. You are a prince of it," Risu continued, her tone reverent. "It is the land our ancestors fought to claim—the nation founded by His Majesty, Arata, the Ghoul Monarch."
Her voice carried a mixture of respect and pride as she spoke, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of her words.
"Haha…" I let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly.
"Ah, shit," I muttered under my breath.
I didn't know if I should feel fortunate or unfortunate about all this. Should I be happy, or the opposite?
Seriously, has my luck always been this good?
Before I came here, Laquila told me I was an anomaly—an existence that shouldn't be here. "Uninvited to the party," she'd said with a faint smile.
She warned me that many unfortunate things might befall me, that the world itself might try to make my life difficult.
She'd explained that while this world was under her administration, it still had its own will.
"It's like a computer," i thought, "and im like a virus. The system will naturally try to quarantine or remove me?"
Was that a good analogy? It made sense in my head, but who knows?
When the time came for me to be reborn here, I'd braced myself for the worst, ready to accept whatever cruel fate awaited me and adapt. But so far, things had been… good.
Suspiciously good.
Had Laquila interfered somehow? But she'd said everything depended on my luck, so was this all thanks to that?
I closed my eyes, shaking off the unanswered questions swirling in my mind. It was no use overthinking. I needed to focus on the here and now.
Taking a deep breath, I sighed.
Sister Risu, noticing my sigh, tilted her head slightly and asked, "Hmm, what's wrong, young master? Are you feeling tired?"
"Yes," I responded, adding in the manner of a typical child, "and I'm hungry."
Risu smiled warmly. "Alright, it's lunchtime already. Let's go," she said as she began rolling the map back into its scroll form.
As she worked, I asked, "Sister Risu, how long has this country existed?"
She paused for a moment, then answered, "Almost three millennia. Accurately, it has been 2,980 years since its founding."
I nodded, taking in the information. "Oh," I said softly.
As we left the library and climbed into the carriage, another question bubbled up in my mind.
"Sister Risu, are you a ghoul too?"
Her reaction was immediate. She shook her head with a faint smile. "No, young master. I'm a mermaid."
"A mermaid?"
She nodded. "When the Ghoul Monarch claimed this southern land, it included the coastal territories where my tribe lived, as well as the small islands nearby. Fortunately, His Majesty did not chase us out. Instead, he allowed us to stay, and so, we became a part of Ater Kingdom."
"So you're a mermaid…" I mused to myself, the thought intriguing.
My mind wandered briefly, recalling the race encyclopedia I'd read. The mermaid race was categorized as part of humanity's side, while a similar yet distinct race, the sirens, belonged to the demonic side.
And with that thought, I leaned back in the seat, letting the gentle sway of the carriage lull me into quiet contemplation.