Chapter 1.
Fire. The clang of iron. Screams. And then, finally—silence. Only ashes remain.
They say the gods are merciful, full of love and understanding. Their words inspire courage, their gaze heals sickness. So why do they remain unmoved when innocents are slaughtered? Why do murderers call themselves their emissaries? Why is blood shed in their name? Why am I the only one who survived?
I don't want these gods. I renounce them. I will burn their symbols. I will curse their names. I will be the master of my own destiny. I will put an end to this injustice. I will not forget. I will not forgive. I will not spare.
And then—darkness. The last thing I smell is burned flesh and blood. The screams, the crying—gone. I promised I would stay hidden, that I would survive. The wound on my chest pulses, and my consciousness fades. I will not die. I will not die. I will not die until I avenge my loved ones.
Thoughts fall silent. The pain fades. I feel like I'm disappearing, as if everything that makes me alive is slipping away into the void.
Somewhere in the south of the Cursed Green Forest, in the land of Loretan.
Plop. Plop. Plop.
The sound of water dripping against the rocks. Morning. Finally. From one nightmare to another.
"A fucking dream," I mumble, scratching an old scar. The same dream, for ten years. Would be nice to dream of a beautiful woman for once. But no—let's serve up trauma. A delicious breakfast.
Despite a decade passing, I still haven't gotten used to this life. Hard to call this cave a home. But it's the only one I have. Maybe it's not that bad.
"Frei!" A low, gruff voice echoes through the cavern. "Where the fuck are you?"
Braun.
"Leave me the fuck alone, I just opened my eyes," I snap irritably.
"If you don't drag your lazy ass over here soon, you'll be closing your eyes for good," he warns.
Ugh. Braun is a simple man—or rather, a mass of muscle with a handful of working brain cells who somehow earned a human name. A bastard, a scoundrel, an old bandit. But I owe him my life, and I won't forget that.
"Okay... I'm coming, I'm coming. Shut up already."
I glance at the pile of rags lying on a wooden crate. Hard to call them clothes. Sometimes I wonder about the poor soul who owned them before. I don't know his name, don't know his past. Only that he was unlucky enough to find our cave. Braun took care of him. As always.
To survive in this world, you take lives. That's the fate of outcasts.
As I slip into the tattered garments, I think of the velvet robes I once wore. Delicate shirts, fitted shoes, comfortable tunics.
"Frei! How long the fuck do I have to wait?!" Braun roars.
"I'm coming, dammit!" I grumble. Well, someone's in a bad mood today.
I move through the dim corridors of the cave, finally reaching the deepest part of the underground hideout. This is where we stash our loot. Where Braun and Benek live.
Benek… It's been almost a year since we found him near a den of wild dogs, wounded and barely alive. The adventurers who raided the den failed to kill them all. One survived. A black wolf pup, a Level 1 beast—weak by most standards, but still dangerous. Scholars would say raising one is foolish, but Braun isn't the kind to leave a dying creature behind.
Come to think of it, Benek and I have a lot in common. Except I don't piss in the cave.
The thought barely forms before I step straight into a puddle.
"Benny!!! You little shit!" I shout angrily.
"Leave him alone!" Braun chuckles. "You wet the bed for two years after I took you in."
"Shut up! That was over a decade ago!" I snap back, my face burning.
"Alright, alright, wimp," he smirks. "Enough about that. I didn't call you here to reminisce. We've got work to do."
"Tsk. I'm listening."
Braun leans against a crate, arms crossed. "Word is, a certain cargo is heading to Agora, the biggest city in the region. My source says it's carrying elemental stones and magical artifacts. It's secret, lightly guarded, and disguised as a pilgrimage caravan heading for the Solar Temple."
Solar.
I grit my teeth. My wound itches.
"More and more people join the pilgrimage as it passes through villages," Braun continues. "No one will notice one more believer tagging along. When they reach Grodno, you'll slip in, blend with the crowd, get to know the carriers, get them drunk, and take what you can. I already have a buyer lined up."
He pauses, meeting my eyes. "After this job, we're leaving this shithole. We'll be done with Loretan. Pay the smugglers, cross the border. Maybe Atla. Far away from this life. Far away from the Inquisition."
I say nothing.
"You'll be free, kid. No one will hunt you over some made-up prophecy. No one will condemn you for being born under an 'unfortunate' moon. You'll start living."
"Braun…" My voice wavers.
"Shut up. I didn't raise you to be a wimp," he snaps. "You know what to do. Stop wasting time and get moving."
"Fucking bastard," I mutter under my breath.
"What was that?!" he shouts.
"Nothing... nothing," I sigh as I turn away. "Benek, come here! I can use you."
Back in my corner of the cave, I change into something less conspicuous—robes stolen from a monk long ago. They'll do.
Time to leave.
Time to change my fate.
Atla. There, I won't have to hide. There, people like me aren't stigmatized. I'll find allies. I'll grow stronger. Richer. I'll finally be able to take care of that old bastard.
And once he's safe…
I'll begin my crusade.
A crusade against the gods and the Inquisition.
I will not forget.
I will not forgive.
I will not spare.