He found a village hidden in the remnants of a forest. It was a fairy sanctuary, its heart protected by a towering, luminous tree that pulsed with life.

  When Shadow approached, the tree glowed brighter, wrapping him in tendrils of light. He met a spirit shaped of bark and glow inside the tree's core. Her eyes, ancient and kind, studied him.

  "I know you," she said. "But I cannot speak of your past. The seal is too strong."

  "Do you know my name?" he asked.

  "I know many names. But only one will lead you forward. Does the name Axel ring a bell?"

  It didn't, but it stirred something deep inside—a name not of a person but of a weapon—a sword.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  "Find Axel," she said. "It is part of you."

  Before he could ask more, the sky darkened.

  A sudden chill swept through the trees, and the sanctuary's peace was shattered. From the skies descended a horde of demons—grotesque, winged horrors that set the heavens aflame. Screams pierced the air as fairy homes were torn apart.

  Shadow raced to defend them, but his body betrayed him. He moved with the instincts of a warrior, but his human form was slow, unfamiliar. A claw tore across his side. Pain blossomed, hot and furious.

  Then, he saw a child—one of the smallest fairies—fall beneath a shadow.

  Something inside him broke.

  Flame burst from his fists, not red, but a searing blue. The Hellfire Fist. A power meant for gods, born from wrath and forged in calamity.

  His attacks became blurs of incandescent light. Demons disintegrated under the weight of his rage. The air itself screamed around him.

  When the last demon fell, the ground was scorched, the village nearly leveled—but the fairies lived.

  The fairies bowed to Shadow. He didn't ask for their loyalty, but they gave it freely. They had seen what he was. Not just a protector, but something sacred.

  Still, he was broken. He didn't remember who he was. But he knew this:

  He couldn't let this world fall. Not again.

  But he wouldn't survive alone.

  And far away, in a place untouched by light, something stirred. Eyes like black stars opened slowly.

  Noel—the Harbinger of End—whispered into the void:

  "So, the beast stirs again."