A mocking and melodious voice echoed in the darkness, like a macabre song slithering between the cold stones of the cell.
—I'll kill you, I'll kill you. I'll eat your head, I'll bury your body, I'll drink your blood, and I'll sell your organs. I'll kill you, I'll kill you...
The echo of those words mixed with the distant dripping of stagnant water and the scurrying of rats among the rubble. The stench of dampness and decay clung to every corner. My stomach burned with a stabbing pain, and the metallic taste of my own blood flooded my mouth. When I tried to move, a shiver ran down my spine—the cold chains bit into my wrists.
—Oh... The sleeping beauty finally wakes up. —a raspy voice murmured.
I forced my eyes open and blinked, trying to distinguish the silhouette outlined in the darkness. A gaunt-faced man with an unkempt beard watched me with a raised eyebrow. His shackles jingled every time he moved his hands.
—Where am I? —My voice came out raw, scraping my throat with a pulsing pain.
He smirked and gestured with a slight nod toward a window barred with rusted iron.
—Welcome to Narnest Prison, kid.
My thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion. I could barely remember what had happened before waking up in that hell.
—Do you... know why they locked me up? —I asked, feeling my throat burn with every word.
The prisoner shrugged, his chains dragging with a metallic sound.
—I heard the guards muttering something. According to them, you're a "sold-out traitor" who wanted to attack Princess Kimono. —As if about to tell a joke, he burst into laughter. —But Sir Valdor stopped you before you could do it.
His tone infuriated me. As I tried to stand up, I felt a chain around my neck tighten, forcing me back. I coughed, feeling my skin burn beneath the iron.
The prisoner chuckled.
—Relax, kid. I know you're not a traitor.
—A traitor...? What is that?
The man let out a harsh laugh, scratching his head with a shackled hand.
—Wow, you really are ignorant. The "sold-outs" are those who have allowed the Kio to corrupt them... But not regular Kio—we're all born with that. —He paused, studying me intently—. When someone overuses their Kio, spending more than they have, their soul shatters. In return, they gain immense power. They say a sold-out can match the strength of three Class Four soldiers.
I looked at him in disbelief. None of that made any sense to me.
—Kio...? —I repeated.
The prisoner's eyes widened, and he dramatically placed his hands on his face.
—You're kidding me! How do you not know what Kio is? —He stretched the skin of his face, as if his shock was twisting him inside out—. Kio is the very essence of the world, the energy that flows through all things.
He leaned down and picked up a rock from the damp floor.
—Even this stone has Kio. Watch —he whispered.
The stone levitated slightly in the air… but fell almost instantly.
—My Kio is of control —he explained with a grimace—. Since I infused the stone with my Kio, I could manipulate it… for a second. I'm not very talented with Kio.
My thoughts were a sea of questions.
—Are there other types of Kio? —I asked, intrigued.
The prisoner gave a lopsided, ironic smile.
—Of course. Mine is the most common... and, to top it off, I'm not even good at using it. But there are others with exceptional talents, like the first monarch of Narnest or Princess Kimono herself. Those are monsters in human form.
He traced symbols in the dust on the floor with a bony finger.
—They say the first monarch could move the entire world with his control Kio... but eh, those are just legends.
—And Princess Kimono? —I asked.
He smiled, but it was not a pleasant smile. His tone carried irritation, even resentment.
—Though she doesn't show herself much, I know she has temporary creation Kio.
—How do you know? —My distrust was evident.
The man tilted his head, amusement glinting in his eyes.
—Have you heard of Veyker?
I shook my head. His smile widened.
—You really are a lost child. Veyker is a bounty hunter. He tried to assassinate Princess Kimono... and failed.
My body tensed immediately.
—Don't tell me you...
He let out a bitter laugh. His sunken, shadowed eyes reflected something beyond mere malice: resignation.
—Yeah, kid. I've killed many... Don't pity me.
I clenched my fists. His story disgusted me, but something in his tone sent a chill down my spine.
—That doll-like face and those pink eyes... they piss me off! —he continued with a low growl—. I don't need your pity. The only thing that matters is that they think you're a sold-out. And in this place, that means sooner or later, they'll come for you... to kill you.
A loud knock echoed against the cell door, dry and metallic, like the tolling of a sentence.
My heart shrank in my chest.
—Well, well... looks like death is right on time. —the prisoner murmured with a twisted grin.
The hinges creaked as the door slowly opened. Instinctively, I tried to move back, seeking refuge in the shadows, but the chains yanked at my neck, denying me any escape. The sound of heavy boots reverberated through the corridor, each step hammering into my skull.
Then I saw him.
A towering knight, his black hair cascading over his shoulders, his gaze as cold as a moonless night. He grabbed my chain with one hand and yanked it with a sharp pull. I felt the metal ring around my neck vibrate before being violently ripped from the wall.
—Hey, Jon! —the prisoner called out mockingly. I saw my cellmate greet the knight with unsettling familiarity. —Old friends. When you kill him, send me his head, you know that's my favorite part.
—Shut up, trash —the knight growled in disgust.
Without hesitation, he stepped toward the prisoner and, with a brutal motion, drove his boot into his stomach with such force that it pierced through him as if his flesh were soaked paper.
The prisoner let out a choked gasp of shock and pain, his sadistic laughter drowning in a gurgle of blood. He barely managed to turn and look him in the eyes one last time. Blood dripped from his mouth, yet he still wore a smile.
—Someone of your caliber has no right to give me orders, scum. —His last words were cold, as if that touch of humor could never disappear.
Without a hint of emotion, the knight withdrew his foot from the dying body and, with a casual gesture, crushed his head against the ground, like someone smashing a rotten egg.
Blood splattered onto the stones.
Before I could process what had just happened, the knight dragged me out of the cell and effortlessly threw me into a vast armory hall. I landed face-first on the cold floor.
—You have two hours to prepare. —He announced with his mocking tone, enjoying the despair on my face—. Choose whatever you want.
I stood up with difficulty, observing the mess around me. Rusted shelves, battered weapons, dull swords, dented armor... each item looked more useless than the last.
I sighed in frustration, running my hand along the blade of a sword, only to confirm it was duller than an old kitchen knife.
—Shit...
In the end, I took the best I could find: a barely functional sword, an armor with fewer holes than the rest.
Time passed like a cold breeze before the door opened again.
The sunlight hit my eyes.
I blinked several times until my vision adjusted. Then I saw it: the roar of the crowd, the scent of sand and sweat, the vastness of a coliseum where the fate of the condemned was decided by sword clashes and spilled blood.
A thunderous voice filled the air.
—Today, you will witness a special battle! —A dwarf shouted from above, his voice so powerful it seemed to shake my bones—. Our honorable knight Jannesss against a piece of scum, a traitooooor!
The coliseum vibrated with cheers and jeers.
In front of me, a red-haired knight stood tall, clad in gleaming armor, wielding a colossal sword that reached his waist.
There was no signal to begin.
No truce.
Jannes lunged at me with inhuman speed, his sword descending like a lightning strike.
Instinctively, I raised mine to block, and a shuddering impact traveled through my arms to my bones. My blade trembled, but it held.
—Hello, traitor. —He murmured with a twisted smile.
His sword rose again in a deadly arc.
Desperate, I lifted my weapon to intercept him, but this time, his blade sliced mine in half as if it were rotten wood.
A burning sting spread across my cheek.
The edge of his sword had grazed my skin, leaving a thin red line.
I leaped back, breathing heavily.
Jannes burst into laughter.
—Ha! Impressive. The sacrifice of your soul has given you more power than I expected. I'd put you at class two or three, at least.
His eyes gleamed with sadism as he took a battle stance.
I, on the other hand, felt lost. I had no weapons. No defense. No way out.
—Wait, please! —I shouted, tossing the broken hilt of my sword to the ground.
I accepted my fate.
I heard his leap, felt the ground tremble beneath his impact.
Dust rose in a thick curtain.
Then, something inside me roared.
My fists clenched.
A strange heat coursed through my veins.
My arm vibrated with an unknown intensity.
—No! I won't die here!
With all my strength, I threw a punch into the air.
The thunderous noise that followed did not come from me.
The dust cleared, revealing an imposing figure amidst the haze.
That knight I had encountered during the princess's evasion stood between us, my punch had dented his armor, yet he remained unfazed, exuding unshakable confidence.
He held Jannes' sword with a single hand.
—A traitor has no right to speak. —He said with a calm smile, effortlessly.
Jannes froze.
But only for an instant.
With a furious roar, he dropped his sword and lunged at me with a dagger in hand.
The cold steel pierced my chest.
A sharp pain coursed through me as a blue aura surged from the weapon, running me through.
My strength faltered.
My vision blurred.
I fell to my knees.
—Shit... —I whispered, feeling blood fill my mouth.
Jannes smiled, triumphant.
But his victory lasted only a second.
The dark-armored knight moved like lightning.
With a devastating kick, he sent Jannes flying, slamming him into the ground with a brutal impact.
Before my body hit the sand, a strong hand caught me.
His grip was firm but not aggressive.
—Calm down, boy. —He whispered—. I won't let you die.
My eyelids closed.
The coldness of his metal gloves chilled my skin until I stopped feeling it.
When I regained consciousness, I felt something incredibly soft beneath me. As I opened my eyes, I saw it was a bed made of animal pelts.
My wounds seemed to have vanished.
As I sat up, I saw my belongings placed on a nearby drawer. I put on my clothes, noticing the large hole that had torn through my shirt.
Behind me, I heard the creaking of hinges. A young girl with sky-blue hair and eyes peeked in.
Her attire resembled that of a traditional baron's butler. But her twin tails, each tied on either side of her face, revealed her gender.
In her hands, she held a silver bowl.
—Princess Kimono ordered me to give you this gift. —She opened the silver bowl. A finely folded white button-up shirt gleamed inside—. Your shirt was ruined by Knight Jannes, and the princess thought white would suit your hair color.
I held the shirt with both hands, lifting it into the air.
—We are well aware of the treatment you received. —She bowed her head with a shrill voice—. We deeply regret the way we treated you. Forgive us, we thought you were a traitor.
I looked at her with pity. She was just a poor girl forced to apologize on behalf of everyone. Surely, she hadn't wanted to take the risk of finding out if I was truly a traitor. They must have forced her to come see me.
—Why did they send a mere servant to check on a possible traitor? —I asked, trying to be gentle.
She straightened her posture, her cheeks flushing. Tears rolled down her face. Did she really feel sorry for me?
—My name is Finn. —She said, wiping her tears—. The monarch wishes to speak with you.
For some reason, her gaze dropped. Was this not a good thing? I put on the white shirt. As I stepped outside, I saw Finn waiting for me. She took my hand and led me toward the main hall.
Her scent was sweet. But the entire castle smelled of dust and antiquity.
Upon arriving at the hall, she let go of my hand and bowed before the monarch. His throne was imposing. It was golden, so pure that I could see my reflection in it.
The man appeared to be of an older age. His neatly trimmed brown beard, his long mane, and his gleaming crown showed a level of care incomparable to the savages of the coliseum.
—Pink-haired youth, we deeply regret the treatment we have given you. —With a snap of his fingers, a group of guards entered, carrying two large sacks—. These bags contain two hundred silver-bronze coins. Enough for you to live two centuries without trouble.
A drop of saliva escaped my mouth, but a loud bang echoed behind me.
The pure metal door had been slammed against the wall.
It was the knight who had saved my life—Valdor.
He strode to the throne, kneeling before what now seemed like a small figure of the monarch.
—My lord. I ask you as a favor not to let this young man go.
Upon hearing those words, a knot formed in my throat. What did I do? Why don't you want to let me go?
—This warrior was able to fight against Knight Jannes. Despite his thin and scrawny body, he has an immense strength. —Planting his sword into the ground. —Let me train him and turn him into a warrior at the front lines of Narnest.
—Valdor, I understand what you're saying. —Pointing at the bronze pouches. —I would let you train him, but I don't think the young man would want to pass up this offer.
Standing up from the ground.
—Don't worry, I'll take the mon—
—Think carefully, boy. —Pulling his sword out of the ground. —Don't you want the strength to defend yourself? To have the power to help?
His words didn't reach me. I was already a hero once. That kind of thing doesn't interest me anymore.
—Wouldn't you like to have the strength to take back what was stolen from you? A precious gem, a legendary weapon, or someone from your family?
W-What was that? I felt my heart beat stronger. My jaw clenched. How would this idiot know? He's just guessing.
I felt time pause. Everything around me was gray. And walking toward me, like Little Red Riding Hood, appeared that god—Histor.
—What are you here for? —I asked, showing my hostility toward him.
—And that tone? —He chuckled lightly. —I see you're facing a very easy decision. Take the money and live happily for the rest of your life.
Before I could speak, the god silenced me, pulling something from his pocket that looked like a marble.
—Put it in your eye.
When I gave in, I saw my sister, standing beside another god.
—What you're seeing is the god Jouny-sama with your sister. —Taking the marble from my hand, he crushed it into dust. —He is also the god who stole the Ego body.
Fixing his hair back, he continued.
—Marl. As my last request, become stronger, save your sister, and kill Jouny-sama on the spot.
—You can't do that, you idiot god.
—There are rules among gods. A god cannot kill another god. That's what champions are for. —He showed me a mocking smile. —Unless you want your sister to live in misery, serving a murderer for eternity… become stronger.
Right on target.
Time returned to normal.
I looked at the bronze pouches one last time. Two centuries is too long, I'd die before I could spend it all. I swallowed hard.
—How strong would you make me? —I asked that knight.
He gave me a confident smile.
—Strong enough to be a champion.
I laughed. It's as if that idiot god planned everything.
I already know how to get my sister back. That's all that matters. Now I just need to become stronger.
—Monarch, can't I choose both the money and the training?
—The money will be used for your training, for the weapons you'll wield, and for the armor you'll break.
I laughed one last time. Nothing is perfect.
I walked away from the money, extending my hand to that giant man.
Maybe this is what you meant by giving me the power to achieve it. You're an idiot god, but I respect you for that.
In this world of swords and shields, I will train. I will become stronger and save my sister. This is just a step toward my goal.
—Marl Stimson. This is the beginning, the beginning of your legend. The legend of Marl—said the god Histor, walking away from the castle toward an unknown place.