Seventeen years ago in the Kingdom of Faniod, Mojo, one of the 10th Greatest Generals, had betrayed King Enryei, killing him bloodlust to become the Emperor of the Faniod.
Along this time, it was the time that Katrine and Schroin intertwined.
Schroin was not an ordinary man; he was given a title by the people—Grim Reaper.
He was a cold-easy-tempered man, as he served as the commander under General Mojo.
It was the time when having no fear meant you were superior to others. He preached to no one except himself. Yet he chose to follow Mojo's virtues and accepted his offering of betraying their king.
He found and slayed thousands, if not hundreds, of men when he was ordered by Mojo to conquer the Floral, the City of Colors—the place where he had grown up his whole life.
His duty didn't leave him with other options but to do what Mojo's ordered him to do.
He was bound by his duty and with no other options, he followed Mojo's orders.
However, it was not as easy as he expected.
"His name was Malad, wasn't it? The husband of yours." Schroin paused, his gaze darkened. "That man... He single-handedly defended the city against us. He defeated half of my men with merely his strength."
Schroin laughed as his fists perpetually gleamed, "He was a menace, but even he couldn't stand a chance against the brutality of Death itself."
She furrowed her brows and glared at him. Leaving only a total silence to Schroin.
Her breathing was shallow, and her body was trembling from exhaustion.
"Is this how you'd show yourself to your son?" He paused and grinned, cracking his neck, and sneered. "How pathetic you are," he scoffed, raising his arm through the air with precise speed as he unyielded a jab aimed directly at her head.
A viscous-scarlet substance sprouted to her mouth as she whispered an incantation, her voice barely audible, "Protect the weak." And suddenly, a shimmering azure barrier wrapped around her body, illuminating the room.
The heavy strike didn't land on Katrine's delicate face as it got absorbed by the barrier of her. But her raspberry-pink hair swayed by the wind that was produced by the force as the barrier shattered into pieces.
However, Katrine was not in good condition; the ground rumbled when she fell to the ground.
The clatter echoed through the room, leaving him in disbelief as he watched her fall.
Hade instantly crawled out of his hiding spot to approach Katrine, still and motionless on the ground.
Hade was stunned when he saw that Katrine's face and body were turning pale white. "No," he said, as drops of tears rapidly streamed down his face, as though he didn't know how to react to seeing Katrine.
He folded his fingers, yet his index and middle fingers remained still. He gently placed them on Katrine's neck, raging tears spilling down his face as he desperately checked her pulse.
"I'm sor-ry..." She said as she struggles to breathe.
"Hey, kid," said Schroin as he reached Hade's collar, raising him above with one hand.
"Put me down! I will kill you!" His legs swung around in the air as he struggled to remove Schroin's tight grasp.
"Stop resisting, if you don't want to go next."
"Let g—"
Schroin didn't let him finish his words as he lightly slapped Hade's back, hard enough for him to lose consciousness and go into slumber.
He shouted to his men, "Attention! We're going home!"
***
"Are we still far from our destination, Torwin?" Lord Henry asked, resting his chin on his palm while staring out the window of the carriage.
"We're almost there, my Lord!" Torwin said, sitting in front of the carriage and holding the leash of two horses with both hands.
Lord Henry yawned as boredom settled in his mind and whispered, "I can't wait to buy a dorian who can do much work without hospitalizing them much."
He gently tapped the window to his right with his fingers and glanced at the midday sun, which set ablaze the green trees and flowers, their colors dancing along the breeze.
Minutes later, Lord Henry sprang up from his seat at the sudden stop of the carriage.
"Torwin, what are you doing? Are you trying to kill your Lord?" He asked as he bumps towards the wooden cover that blocks his front view.
"I apologize, my Lord Henrick. But our path is blocked."
"Blocked," Lord Henrick paused and sighed as he sat back, giving a narrowed eye at his slacks. "by what?"
Torwin coughed, clearing his throat before speaking to his Lord, "By gilog, my Lord."
"Gilog? There are no gilogs in here. It's impossible. It can only be found in the mystic forest."
"You're certainly correct, my Lord, but," Torwin paused as he tied the leash to the hook on his side before descending to the ground and walking towards the golden knob of the carriage door.
Torwin knocked to the carriage door before turning the knob counter clockwise.
Torwin gently swung the door open, put his right hand on his chest, bowed, and greeted his Lord with modesty.
Lord Henrick's boots clung to the solid, rocky ground as he stepped out of the carriage with a golden cane.
He then shook off the dust from his slacks and was greeted by his companion as usual.
"Take a look at this my Lord."
Lord Henry turned his head to the left and glanced at the gilog stretching across the entire field.
The gilog perpetually emitted steam from its trunks, a clear sign that they were newly placed.
Lord Henrick stretched his hands to scratch his head and said, "What in the world? Who did this?" His cloak was caught by the wind as it blew, while they proceeded to ponder who—or what kind of monster—would place a gilog in their path.
Torwin turned, approaching the gilogs slowly, his shoes clung to the muddy earth as he adjusted his collar.
Lord Henrick eyes widened, "Torwin, is that," as he focused at what was under the gilog from the distance. "The dorheim?"
Torwin stopped, scanning the fragments of pillars under, "I think it is my Lord," he said, as he examined the segments scattered around them.
"Who did this," Lord Henrick shouted, grinning as he grudgingly ruffled his hair. "Now I can't buy a good dorian from the good old dorheim!"