The shoreline was a jagged edge of the world, where the rhythmic roar of the tide masked the silence of a dying civilization. Sung Jiwon Naa sat at the very fringe of the land, his boots half-buried in the damp, freezing sand.
Before him, the endless ocean acted as a mirror for the colors of a new dawn. The sun began its slow, painful ascent from the horizon, bleeding warm shades of gold and soft crimson into the clouds. It was breathtaking—a fragile, fleeting beauty that seemed out of place in a world defined by rubble and ash.
"I wish she was here… with me."
His voice was a mere whisper, thin and fragile, instantly snatched away by the salt-heavy wind and the crashing waves.
He remained seated for a long time, a solitary silhouette against the vastness of the sea. He didn't move, saying nothing, simply watching the sun climb higher as if he were trying to memorize every ripple of light on the water—as if he feared it might be the last time he'd see the sky so clear.
Then, slowly, he stood. The peace in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, haunting clarity. Facing the rising sun, he spoke again, but this time his voice was steady, anchored by an unshakable resolve.
"This world never allowed me to stay with her."
He reached up and adjusted the scarf around his neck, the fabric a soft reminder of a life he once knew. His expression hardened into a mask of stone.
"No matter what happens… I won't stop. I'll reverse time and bring her back. No matter the cost."
The vow was barely spoken before reality shattered.
BOOM!
A violent impact struck the shore behind him, the shockwave nearly knocking the air from his lungs. Sand and dust erupted into a massive geyser, obscuring the horizon as something descended from the sky with the weight of a falling star.
Through the settling grit and the roar of the impact, a voice echoed—raspy, melodic, and chillingly intelligent.
"Sung Jiwon Naa! I've finally found you."
Jiwon Naa turned calmly. He didn't flinch; he didn't run. He watched as the dust cleared to reveal a Soul Reaper.
But this wasn't the mindless, serpentine beast he was used to. This creature held a humanoid form, standing upright with a grace that felt entirely unnatural. Its presence was different—heavier, more concentrated—pulsing with a malice that felt personal.
Huh? A talking Soul Reaper? What kind of monster is this?
Jiwon Naa's eyes sharpened to lethal points as he shifted his weight into a combat stance. The air around him began to hum with the awakening of his power.
"Who are you?"
The creature tilted its head, letting out a short, dry laugh that sounded like stones grinding together.
"Me?" it replied, its voice dripping with arrogance. "I am the second-ranked warrior of the Fourth Grade Soul Reapers." Its mouth twisted into a cruel, jagged smile. "And I will be the cause of your death."
Jiwon Naa remained expressionless, his mind already moving three steps ahead of the threat.
It can speak… then killing it now would be a waste. I'll capture it and extract information.
The Soul Reaper stretched its long, obsidian-colored arms, the joints clicking like a predator preparing for a sprint.
"Why wait?" it said mockingly, its eyes glowing with a predatory light. "The Lord demands your head."
The moment those words fell—the silence of the dawn was obliterated.
The battle began.
The No.2 threw its head back and released a primal, gut-wrenching scream. The sound didn't just carry volume; it carried physical weight. An overwhelming surge of wind pressure exploded from the creature, tearing through the shoreline and literally splitting the ocean waves apart. The force was so immense that Sung Jiwon Naa was lifted off the ground like a leaf in a gale.
But the helplessness lasted only for an instant.
Air currents gathered beneath his soles, forming solid footholds of compressed oxygen. Jiwon Naa stabilized his body mid-flight, calmly floating back into a position of control.
"As expected," the Soul Reaper scoffed, its humanoid eyes flickering with amusement. "A weak attack like that wouldn't kill a man like you."
Sung Jiwon Naa offered no words. The air around his palms shimmered and condensed until two razor-sharp Wind Swords took shape.
Floating in the center of the storm, he shifted his stance, pulling one leg back to coil his strength. He released the stored pressure in a single, explosive burst.
His body launched forward like a railgun bullet.
Slash! Slash!
In a blur of silver-white light, the Soul Reaper's torso was cleaved into jagged pieces.
Jiwon Naa landed gracefully behind the creature, his back turned as he dissipated the excess energy. "Tch… I used too much force," he muttered, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "I killed it. There goes my information."
"Ohhhhoho… impressive."
Jiwon Naa's eyes widened slightly. He spun around.
The Fourth Knight stood tall once more, its severed flesh knitting back together with sickening speed. The regeneration was seamless.
"You really do have excellent wind control," the creature said, cracking its neck. "But killing me won't be that easy, kid. Only the Lord… and No. 1… have the right to defeat me."
Sung Jiwon Naa's expression went stone-cold. "Is that so?"
The atmosphere shifted violently as he raised both hands. Two massive tornadoes erupted from the surf, dragging tons of ocean water into their spiraling cores. The Fourth Knight was swallowed whole by the churning, watery vortex, the pressure enough to grind steel into dust.
There's no way it survives this, Jiwon Naa thought.
BOOOOM!
A sudden, dark explosion of energy erased the tornadoes in an instant. From the dissipating smoke emerged a nightmare. The Soul Reaper had transformed. Its claws had grown longer and sharper, dripping with black ichor, and two massive, leathery wings spread from its back, blotting out the rising sun.
"Kid…" it growled, its voice now a guttural bass. "Today, I'll rip your throat out."
It charged. The speed was beyond anything Jiwon Naa had anticipated. He reinforced his body with a layer of high-density wind and attempted to weave through the strike—but the creature's reach was too great.
SHHHHK!
The sharp claws tore through his side, carving deep grooves into his ribs. Pain exploded through his nerves, hot and blinding.
Ignoring the agony, Jiwon Naa unleashed thousands of compressed wind strikes—[Aeolian Needle Rain]—firing them relentlessly at point-blank range. But the Knight moved its wings in a blur, parrying and destroying each strike effortlessly.
Without a second of hesitation, Jiwon Naa rushed forward again, betting everything on a direct thrust. He drove both Wind Swords straight through the creature's chest, the blades emerging from its back.
Black blood sprayed from the Knight's mouth, splattering against Jiwon Naa's scarf. Yet, the monster laughed.
"This won't kill me."
It reached down, grabbed the glowing wind blades with its bare hands, and crushed them. The swords shattered into harmless mist instantly.
Before Jiwon Naa could retreat, the Knight's claws wrapped around his throat like a vice. With a roar of triumph, it hurled him through the air with overwhelming, monstrous force.
Even Jiwon Naa's wind-buffering couldn't kill the momentum. His body crashed into a distant, abandoned skyscraper.
CRASH—!
The concrete structure cracked violently, the sound of splintering rebar echoing through the desolate city.
He survived—but only through sheer, stubborn will.
Coughing up dust and blood, Sung Jiwon Naa forced his broken body to rise from the wreckage of the skyscraper. His vision swam, and his left arm hung limp at his side, but he stood.
The No.2 appeared before him in a flicker of shadow, its wings folded behind it like a funeral shroud. It looked down at him with a mixture of pity and boredom.
"Give up, kid," it said, its voice echoing in the hollow shell of the building. "Accept defeat, and I'll grant you a painless death. Why continue a struggle that ends in the same grave?"
Jiwon Naa didn't hear him. As his consciousness flickered, the present world bled away.
Time slowed.
A memory surfaced, vivid and agonizing. He was back on a rooftop at night, far above a city that still glowed with millions of lights, before the shadows had taken everything. A girl sat beside him, the wind catching her hair. Her face was a blur—a cruel trick of his fading mind—but her happiness was unmistakable. It was the only warmth he had ever known.
She reached out and held his hand, her fingers interlocking with his.
"You won't ever leave me… right?"
In the memory, he hadn't answered. He had been too afraid of the future.
She had only smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "I'll never stop loving you."
The memory shattered.
Back in the ruins, something deep within Jiwon Naa's soul snapped. The "regret" he had carried wasn't just a burden anymore—it was fuel.
A violent, localized surge of wind erupted around his body, so sharp it began to shave the concrete off the walls. The air didn't just blow; it screamed.
The No.2's smirk vanished, replaced by a deep, instinctual frown. It took a step back, its wings unfurling involuntarily. "Why does your aura feel… so heavy? This isn't just wind pressure."
Sung Jiwon Naa slowly raised his head. The trembling in his hands had stopped.
"I'm sick of this…"
His voice was a low, guttural vibration that shook the very air.
"AAAAARGHHHH!! You bastard—YOU'RE GOING TO DIE!"
The world descended into absolute chaos.
Debris from the fallen city lifted into the sky, caught in a massive, invisible vacuum. Buildings for blocks around trembled as if the earth itself were terrified. The wind roared uncontrollably, creating a sound like a thousand dying stars.
A faint, ethereal white glow enveloped Jiwon Naa's body, knitting his wounds together with forced, high-pressure air. He took a deep, agonizing breath, and as he exhaled, the last of his humanity seemed to drain away.
His eyes turned completely cold—void of pain, void of memory, void of mercy.
The "Regretful Boy" was gone. A heartless hunter stood before the true form of the Fourth Knight, his presence so dense it threatened to crush the monster where it stood.
And the real battle—the one the Fourth Knight would not survive—was about to begin.