CHAPTER: BIRTH OF WRATH
The battlefield of the ruined trade city had fallen into an eerie silence.
Moments ago it had been filled with thunder, roaring monsters, collapsing walls, and the clash of steel.
Now… only wind moved.
Blackened rubble smoked beneath the dim sky. The corrupted forest had already begun creeping across the shattered ground like a living organism reclaiming its territory.
Draven stood in the center of it all.
And in front of him—
The leader of the Lion Knights.
For a moment neither of them moved.
Then suddenly—
CRACK.
The world around them shattered.
It did not explode.
It broke.
Like fragile glass.
The battlefield fractured into countless shards that floated in darkness. Buildings, sky, soldiers, monsters—everything splintered into fragments of reality drifting in an endless black ocean.
Each shard dissolved slowly like bubbles sinking into deep water.
Then everything vanished.
Silence.
Absolute darkness.
And then—
Both men gasped.
Their eyes opened.
They were back on the battlefield.
Reality had returned.
But something was terribly wrong.
The clash they had just experienced—the monstrous duel that shattered mountains, cracked the sky, and flooded the nightmare with blood—had never happened in reality.
Their bodies were untouched.
Their armor mostly intact.
Their weapons still in their hands.
Yet both men suddenly dropped to their knees.
Cough.
Blood splattered across the ground.
The Lion Knight leader grabbed his chest as if his ribs were collapsing inward.
Draven bent forward, coughing violently, crimson dripping from the corner of his mouth.
Their wounds were invisible.
But their souls were bleeding.
Every strike.
Every slash.
Every broken bone.
Every lethal wound they suffered inside the nightmare—
Their minds remembered all of it.
And the mental pressure was crushing.
The ground beneath them trembled faintly.
Not from magic.
Not from explosions.
But from the lingering pressure of the nightmare battle.
Around them—
Draven's generals stood frozen.
A1.
B2.
C3.
Samuel.
Prince Varuk.
The Gargoyle General.
They had not seen the battle.
But they had felt it.
Something impossible had happened between those two.
Even the remaining twenty Lion Knights standing behind their leader were shaken.
The air itself felt distorted.
As if the world had briefly been torn open and stitched back together.
The Lion Knight leader slowly raised his head.
His breathing was uneven.
His body trembled.
Yet he still reached into his armor pocket.
He pulled out a cigar.
His hands shook violently as he placed it between his lips.
He struck a lighter.
The flame flickered.
For a moment it looked like it would go out.
But then—
The cigar lit.
He inhaled deeply.
Smoke escaped slowly from his mouth.
Draven watched him quietly.
Then he smirked.
"Tell me," Draven said calmly.
"What do you plan to do now… leader of the Lion Knights?"
The knight exhaled another cloud of smoke.
His eyes were empty.
He stared into the distance.
"…Whatever."
His voice was hoarse.
"…Just kill me already."
Behind him the surviving Lion Knights stiffened.
But their leader didn't even glance back.
His gaze was distant.
Haunted.
Because right now—
He wasn't looking at Draven.
He was looking at memories.
The image of a room.
A room soaked in blood.
The lifeless body of a woman.
His wife.
Her stomach swollen with their unborn child.
Her body covered with stab wounds.
Her eyes empty.
The screams.
The smell of iron.
The silence after.
For years he had shown the world a calm face.
A loyal knight.
A fearless commander.
A warrior who moved on.
But he never escaped that moment.
Every night.
Every quiet moment.
Every time he closed his eyes.
That scene returned.
Over.
And over.
And over again.
Draven slowly stood up.
He walked toward the kneeling knight.
When he reached him—
He placed a hand on his shoulder.
The knight didn't resist.
Didn't react.
Draven could feel it.
The grief.
The rage.
The endless regret.
So Draven spoke quietly.
"My friend…"
"…here is my farewell gift."
The Lion Knight slowly looked up.
Their eyes met.
Draven's eyes glowed crimson.
Ancient runes spiraled across his pupils.
The air around them warped.
Skill Activated.
Psychic Nightmare.
The Lion Knight froze.
The battlefield vanished again.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Then—
He stood somewhere else.
The capital.
But something was strange.
He looked down at his hands.
Younger.
His armor.
His body.
It was his younger self.
The version of him from the day he lost his wife.
His eyes widened.
"This… this is…"
Then—
Roars echoed through the streets.
Monsters.
They charged through the city.
But something was wrong.
The capital was not collapsing.
The soldiers reacted immediately.
Knight orders rushed into the streets.
Imperial guards formed defensive lines.
Within minutes the monsters were surrounded.
Magic cannons fired.
Arrows rained down.
Sword auras sliced through the creatures.
The monsters were annihilated in less than half an hour.
The Lion Knight leader frowned.
"…That's not what happened."
Back then…
He had been told something very different.
That the monsters attacked in waves.
That one third of the capital was destroyed.
That chaos lasted for hours.
Yet here—
The battle ended quickly.
Controlled.
Efficient.
The destruction was minor.
Repairable.
No civilians dead.
Something felt wrong.
Then he suddenly remembered.
His wife.
He turned and ran.
Through the streets.
Some roads were burning.
But when he looked closer—
The fires were started by soldiers.
Not monsters.
They were intentionally burning buildings.
Creating the illusion of destruction.
His heart began pounding.
"No…"
He ran faster.
His house appeared at the end of the street.
Smoke drifted from inside.
He slammed the door open.
And froze.
Knights.
Several of them.
From another knight order.
They were attacking his wife.
She screamed.
She begged.
"I'm pregnant! Please—!"
They ignored her.
They tore her clothes.
Stabbed her.
Again.
And again.
Slowly.
Mocking her.
Insulting him.
The Lion Knight leader screamed.
He charged forward.
But—
His body passed through them.
He was only watching.
A ghost in his own memory.
Helpless.
Powerless.
Forced to witness it again.
Then hoofbeats echoed outside.
Another knight approached the house at full speed.
Hope flashed in his eyes.
"Maybe… maybe he'll stop them…"
The knight entered.
He wore the armor of the Imperial Knight Order.
Personal knights of the emperor.
Authority.
Justice.
Honor.
Surely—
Surely he would stop them.
But instead—
He stepped forward calmly.
And stabbed his wife directly through the chest.
Her body collapsed.
The room fell silent.
The imperial knight turned to the others.
"Leave immediately."
"You must not be seen."
The other knights fled.
Covered in her blood.
The Lion Knight leader stood frozen.
The imperial knight mounted his horse and rode away.
But this time—
The Lion Knight followed.
Like a shadow.
The knight arrived at the imperial estate.
He entered a private chamber.
Inside sat the emperor.
The imperial knight bowed.
"Is it done?"
"Yes, my lord."
"I personally eliminated the target."
The emperor smiled.
"Excellent."
"You may leave."
After the knight departed—
The emperor walked to a table.
A chessboard rested on it.
Every knight order leader was represented as a carved piece.
He picked up a piece shaped like the Lion Knight leader.
He placed it on the board.
"Perfect…"
He chuckled softly.
"This pawn was becoming troublesome."
"Love and emotions weakened him."
"He even dared to submit a retirement request because of his pregnant wife."
He laughed.
"But now…"
"…he is the perfect killing machine."
"No attachments."
"No future."
"Only loyalty."
The emperor's laughter echoed endlessly.
The Lion Knight leader snapped back to reality.
His eyes burned with fury.
His scream shattered the ground beneath his feet.
Rage exploded from his body.
Draven watched him calmly.
"So…"
"Do you still want to die?"
The knight's voice trembled with pure hatred.
"No."
"Not until I destroy that kingdom."
"Not until I execute those bastards with my own hands."
Draven smiled.
"I will help you achieve that."
Then—
Draven's hand moved.
The suspicious ring on his finger glowed faintly.
And in a single motion—
Draven struck.
The abyssal blade flashed.
The Lion Knight leader's head separated cleanly from his body.
His corpse collapsed.
Behind Draven—
The remaining Lion Knights screamed in rage.
They charged.
Draven snapped his fingers.
The ring glowed.
And instantly—
POP.
POP.
POP.
One by one—
Their hearts exploded.
Blood erupted from their mouths.
They collapsed to the ground.
Then something horrifying happened.
Centipedes crawled out of their mouths.
Out of their ears.
Out of their noses.
Dozens of them.
Draven's familiars.
Heart Binding Centipedes.
They slithered across the ground and returned to him.
System information appeared.
Ring of the Endless Swarm
A ring carved from an ancient insect demon.
Abilities:
• Summon endless insect monsters
• Generate poison clouds
• Command swarms and corrupted creatures
Long ago—
Draven's spiders and centipedes had infiltrated the empire through the sewer networks.
They had entered the bodies of soldiers.
Waiting.
Hidden.
Silent.
The battle had been decided long before it began.
Draven picked up the severed head of the Lion Knight leader.
The centipede binding his heart crawled out and entered the ring.
Then Draven opened the system panel.
Three quests appeared.
Conquer the Eastern War Front
The Seven Deadly Sins Seed Quest
Defeat the Lion Knight Order
Draven selected the second quest.
A dark seed materialized in his palm.
Seed of Wrath.
He implanted it into the corpse.
Darkness engulfed the body.
Bones cracked.
A skeletal arm emerged.
The corpse rose.
The severed head floated into its hand.
The transformation completed.
A Dullahan stood before him.
The mystical lion spirit that once served the knight twisted into a demonic skeletal horse.
The headless rider mounted it slowly.
Then—
The creature knelt.
"Your command… my lord."
The embodiment of wrath had been born.
And it now belonged to Draven.
TO BE CONTINUED.....