Rin climbed the creaking attic stairs, his heart heavy. Dust filled the air, swirling in the dim light that filtered through a partially collapsed roof. His father had once told him, long ago, that their family heirloom was hidden here. Now, with his parents' lifeless bodies downstairs, those words carried an eerie weight.
He stepped carefully over broken wood and debris, his eyes scanning the room. Then, something caught his attention—a chest. It was old, its dark wood scarred by time, but its iron reinforcements remained strong.
As he reached out to touch it, a voice echoed through the attic.
"Are you one of the bloodline?"
Rin froze, his breath hitching. He glanced around, but there was no one else here. Just him and the chest.
His fingers hovered above the wood, uncertainty creeping into his mind. Then, the image of his parents flashed before him—lifeless, cold. He clenched his jaw, pushing his hesitation aside.
He pressed his hand to the chest again.
"Are you one of the bloodline?"
This time, the voice was deeper, more menacing.
Rin swallowed hard. "Yes.
A low chuckle resonated through the attic. The chest shuddered slightly before the voice spoke again.
"Prove it. Offer a drop of blood. But beware—if you are not of the bloodline, you will die."
The warning sent a chill down Rin's spine, but doubt had no place in his mind. If his father had told him to come here, then this was meant for him.
His gaze swept the attic, and he spotted a rusted needle among the debris. Picking it up, he hesitated only for a moment before pressing the sharp tip against his fingertip. A sharp sting. A bead of blood welled up and dripped onto the chest.
The second his blood touched the wood, it vanished—absorbed as if the chest had been starved for it. A tense silence followed.
Then—click.
The chest's lid creaked open.
"Welcome, Master."
Inside, Rin found a single book. The cover was worn, but the title stood out in bold lettering:
READ ME FIRST BEFORE TAKING ANYTHING.
Frowning, he picked it up and flipped through the pages. The book detailed witches—their powers, weaknesses, and their inhuman abilities. It also contained a rigorous training method, one designed to strengthen the body specifically to fight witches.
One passage stood out in bold ink:
"Under no circumstances should you take what is inside the chest until the training is complete."
His eyes flicked back to the open chest, curiosity gnawing at him. But he pushed the temptation aside. Instead, his fingers traced a small, almost hidden button along the side of the chest. The book had mentioned it—pressing it would transform the chest into something portable.
Taking a breath, he pressed it.
A faint glow surrounded the chest as its form shifted. When the light faded, it was no longer a heavy wooden box but a pendant, now resting in his palm. He looped the chain around his neck.
There was no time to waste.
Descending the attic steps, he made his way outside. His gaze lingered on his parents' bodies for a moment before he moved to the shed. Wordlessly, he gathered wood and started preparing their funeral pyre. The flames rose, crackling as they consumed what remained of his family.
Then, he returned to Mia and did the same, his face emotionless as he watched the fire burn.
With the past now turned to ash, Rin turned his focus to the future. He also grabbed his father's journal, its pages marking a location deep within a forest.
Without hesitation, Rin left.
His journey had just begun.
Rin returned to his apartment in the city, gathering the few belongings he had left. He then accessed his parents' bank accounts, collecting every last bit of money—his rightful inheritance as their next of kin.
With it, he purchased everything listed in the book: food specifically meant to build his body to endure the grueling training ahead. He also bought metal weapons designed to be effective against witches, ensuring he would be ready when the time came.
Once his preparations were complete, he boarded a bus headed toward the forest mentioned in his father's journal. When he arrived at the outskirts, he felt an eerie stillness in the air.
The book's instructions were clear: before stepping into the forest, he had to offer a drop of blood.
Without hesitation, he pricked his finger, letting a single drop fall onto the earth.
The moment his blood touched the ground, reality seemed to flicker—glitching like a broken image. Then, before his eyes, a portal tore open.
Rin stared, his mind racing. How had this supernatural world existed for so long without anyone knowing?
But in the end, it didn't matter. His only goal was to destroy witches.
Steeling himself, he stepped through the portal.
On the other side, he found himself in a vast, divided land. One half was a lush, green garden, teeming with life. The other was a barren battlefield, soaked in blood and covered in the remnants of war.
According to the book, this battlefield was once the first warzone between witches and witch hunters. After the war, the space itself was removed from the physical world, yet it still remained.
Here, he would train for ten years—but in the outside world, only one year would pass.
From forging weapons designed to kill witches to mastering battle styles like manifesting a Domain, he would also learn how to craft herbs that could heal wounds inflicted by witches.
---
The Training Begins
The first phase of his training took place in the lush side of the battlefield. He began with intense water breathing exercises, strengthening his endurance. He then advanced to high-level diving, leaping from towering mountain cliffs into the river below.
At first, fear held him back. But each time, he reminded himself:
"If my ancestors could do this, why can't I?"
Fueled by rage and loss, he pushed forward. The witches had taken everything from him—so he would take everything from them.
For five years, he trained relentlessly, following the methods written in the book. Many seemed physically impossible, yet he pushed his body beyond human limits.
The book also instructed him to forge weapons meant to kill witches, though he could never test them, and to craft potent herbs.
Then, the book revealed his next task.
It was time to step into the barren graveyard—the land where thousands of witches had fallen.
---
Trial of the Dead
The first step was simple, yet terrifying.
"He had to dig a hole and bury himself alive."
The book claimed that the lingering deaths of the witches, along with the powers buried in the soil, would build his resistance against their magic.
He hesitated—but only for a moment. Then, gritting his teeth, he grabbed a shovel from the shed in the lush side and headed toward the barren soil.
He struck the ground, but the hardened soil resisted. Fetching water, he poured it over the dirt, loosening it before digging again.
Without another thought, he buried himself in the cold, cursed ground.
When he emerged, the second trial began.
"Step five times while chanting the name of the former Witch King."
The moment the words left his lips, the air trembled. Ghosts of fallen witches rose from the ground, their twisted forms filled with hatred.
The book's instructions were brutal: he had to fight them with his bare hands.
The ghosts were relentless. Every single day, for three years, he was beaten mercilessly. Bones cracked. Blood spilled. The pain was endless.
But there was one small hope—a herb growing in the graveyard. It didn't heal wounds completely, but it stopped the bleeding just enough for him to continue.
And so, he fought.
He lost.
He fought again.
He lost again, but better.
But he never stopped. Because every moment he spent in this hellish graveyard, witches were still out there, ruining lives.
Then, in the fifth year, something changed.
His movements sharpened. His reflexes became inhuman. His eyes could see everything—every ghostly attack, every flicker of movement. His mind processed battles faster than ever before.
And finally, he won.
But his final test was yet to come.
The book's next command was horrifying:
"Summon the entire war of witches again. This time, fight all of them. Alone."
Rin didn't hesitate.
The ghost king rose. Thousands of spectral witches charged at him. And he slaughtered them all.
---
The Final Gift
At last, the book gave its final instruction:
"Place the pendant on the herb garden."
Rin obeyed, watching as his pendant absorbed the healing herbs, storing them within itself. Now, he had a portable garden, capable of growing herbs to counter witch curses and injuries.
The last task remained.
He tapped his pendant, and it transformed back into a chest.
Slowly, he opened the lid.
Inside, resting on darkened velvet, was a weapon—a jagged, blackened long dagger.