Six days and ten hours left. That's how much time I have in this world if I don't do something about it soon.
The fire crackles softly, its warmth brushing against my skin. Across from me, Tsuki sits still, the flames casting shadows over his scarred face. The contours of those scars shift with the flickering light, but his black eyes remain fixed, as unyielding as stone.
We haven't spoken much since we arrived here. How could I? This is the same man who kicked and beat me into the dirt, who fought for Prince Ramidion without hesitation. And now, here he is, bowing before me, pledging loyalty, calling me the Dark Deity.
Is that what I really am?
Finally, I can't stand the silence anymore.
"Tsuki."
"Yes, Lord Solice," he replies immediately, his voice steady.
"What did you mean by 'Dark Deity'? Why do you think I'm... that?"
Tsuki hesitates for a moment, then begins. His voice is steady, almost detached, like he's reciting a story he's told many times before.
"Five hundred years ago, the Five Great Kingdoms were founded—not all at once, but close enough that history ties them together. Legends say that the five kings of these lands were brothers. They vowed to build a utopia where their kingdoms would thrive in harmony. For a time, they succeeded. But pride and greed have a way of unraveling even the strongest bonds. Soon, wars broke out—over territory, resources, and power."
He looks up at me, his dark eyes reflecting the firelight. "The land we live in is circular, with the five kingdoms arranged like spokes of a wheel. At the center lies what we now call No Man's Land. Do you know why it has that name, Lord Solice?"
I shake my head. "No."
"Because there was a sixth brother."
I tilt my head, confused.
"Luctus," Tsuki continues, his voice quieter now. "The grandest and kindest of them all. While his brothers were born with mastery over the elements—fire, earth, water, air, and light—Luctus was different. He had no affinity. He was the weakest among them, at least in magic. But his mind was unparalleled, and his heart... it was larger than any of the kingdoms his brothers would go on to rule. Luctus dreamed of a world united, where the six of them would build something beautiful together."
I can see the faintest flicker of emotion in Tsuki's expression—sadness, perhaps? "Luctus sent his brothers out to establish their kingdoms. He gave them wealth, knowledge, and endless encouragement. But as their kingdoms grew stronger, their gratitude turned to resentment. 'Why should Luctus benefit from our labor?' they said. 'He's just a parasite, living off our work.' Their jealousy consumed them. They returned to him, demanding more and more.
"In their pride, the five brothers turned against him."
My eyes narrow. "What did they do?"
"They confronted Luctus at the center of it all," Tsuki says. "They accused him of sloth, of taking advantage of them. Luctus pleaded with them, apologized, even. He promised to visit each of their kingdoms to help. And he did. For years, he traveled from one kingdom to the next, aiding his brothers however he could. But it was never enough.
"So he offered to run all five kingdoms himself, while his brothers remained at the center, living in luxury. Decades passed, and Luctus worked tirelessly. He ran their kingdoms, solving their problems, managing their wars, mending the damage their greed caused. And all the while, he learned. From the people of each kingdom, he studied their magic. Fire in Ignis, water in Aquora, earth in Geonis, air in Aeras, and light in Luminis, now known as Alstidon. He mastered them all."
I blink, trying to imagine such a man. "And his brothers?"
"They took everything he gave and demanded more," Tsuki says bitterly. "They lived in comfort while Luctus ran himself ragged. When he grew sick from exhaustion, they told him to work harder. When the kingdoms began to fall into chaos—because of their greed—they blamed him.
"And when he could no longer stand, they beat him."
I feel a lump forming in my throat as Tsuki continues.
"They mocked him. Called him weak, useless, a failure. When Luctus could no longer run, he walked. When he could no longer walk, he crawled. And when even crawling was beyond him, he dragged himself forward with one arm. Still, he loved them. Still, he believed in their goodness."
Tsuki's voice softens, heavy with sorrow. "But even Luctus had limits. In his final moments, he crawled to the center of it all and looked to the stars. And with his last breath, he cast one final spell—not of vengeance, but of love.
Tsuki looks up at the night sky, his voice softening. "It was a spell born of compassion. Luctus believed no one should live long enough to see their loved ones become their enemies. He gifted humanity with these timers we bear on our chests—a finite lifespan, so no one could suffer for eternity as he had. He thought it was the ultimate kindness: to ensure that life would always have an end, so the pain of betrayal or greed would never be eternal."
The fire pops, breaking the silence. I realize I'm holding my breath. "And No Man's Land?"
"When Luctus died," Tsuki says, "his strength radiated outward. The land twisted, becoming a haven for monsters of unimaginable power. It was never his intention, but his death left a scar on the world."
I swallow hard. "But that doesn't explain why you think I'm the Dark Deity."
"The Dark Deity," Tsuki says slowly, "is the name the five brothers gave Luctus after his death. It was a lie—a way to hide their crimes and maintain their power. They called him a monster, a destroyer, and blamed him for everything."
I shake my head. "So why me?"
Tsuki meets my gaze, and for the first time, I see something raw in his expression. "The prophecy states: 'A man with hair as black as the void, a lifespan untouched, and no elemental affinity will arrive when the land of Fangea is at its weakest. This man will destroy the world, and it will be up to the people to stand against the embodiment of evil.'
"You are the only man I've met who fits the description. And yet…" He hesitates, his voice softening. "When I met you, I felt it. That same strength. That same sorrow. I swore my life to you because… perhaps I was tired of waiting for the Dark Deity. Or perhaps I was waiting for someone to show me the truth."
We fell silent after that. I had nothing else to ask. My thoughts swirled with everything Tsuki had told me, each revelation heavier than the last. Finally, I let myself close my eyes, hoping for some measure of rest.
But just as soon as my eyes shut, I heard it—a sound that pierced through the night like a jagged blade. Twisted screams, distant but drawing closer.
I sit up sharply, my heart pounding. Tsuki is already on his feet, his sword unsheathed. The firelight gleams off the blade's edge, but his face remains calm, almost unnervingly so.
He tosses something to me—a short blade. I catch it awkwardly, staring at the weapon in my hand. Its weight is unfamiliar, and my grip feels clumsy.
"I've never used one of these," I mutter, more to myself than to him.
Tsuki doesn't reply. His focus shifts, and I follow his gaze into the darkness beyond the firelight. That's when I see them.
Two red orbs floating in the black. No—not orbs. Eyes. They blink slowly, and the twisted screams grow louder.
And then, more appear. Two become four. Four become eight. Ten. Dozens. All around us, in the forest's shadows, red eyes blink into existence one by one. They are watching, waiting.
My fingers tighten around the blade's hilt. My palms are slick with sweat, but I steady my grip.
I clench my jaw, my breath coming faster.
I needed more time anyway.