1 Prologue

-How does it feel to be the strongest sword master, Lux?

A voice emanated from the depths, shattering the silence that enveloped the surroundings. Though the voice didn't carry beyond the landscape, its message was crystal-clear to the individual it addressed.

"You inquire about how it feels," Lux responded, his voice laden with exhaustion. "Frankly, I cannot say. I never sought to wield the sword with the intention of becoming the strongest," he uttered before collapsing to the ground.

The scene was one of utter chaos. What was once vibrant grass now lay hidden beneath a thick layer of congealed blood. Corpses littered the landscape, and a river of crimson flowed unabated.

Amidst this macabre scene stood a mound of dead bodies, a mountain of fallen comrades. Lux lay atop this gruesome pile, surrounded by hundreds, no thousands, of lifeless corpses.

The putrid stench of decaying flesh hung heavy in the air, assaulting Lux's nose and rendering his sense of smell numb. The odor lingered persistently, refusing to dissipate unless he managed to escape this horrid place.

Taking in his surroundings, Lux soon realized that he was the sole survivor. His enemies, friends, and allies alike lay motionless, void of any signs of life. He was the only one left breathing.

He despised this reality, but what choice did he have? Lux had come too far to turn back now, and there was no alternate exit available. The war had already concluded; after this, he could retire from his life as a swordsman and live as he pleased.

Silence enveloped the scene as Lux pondered retirement and a new beginning. In this vast world, all the wars he had been thrust into had reached their conclusions. There was no more strife to contend with, no cause worth fighting for. Everything had come to an end.

At long last, Lux could rest without constantly scanning his surroundings for potential threats. How marvelous it felt! Lux, who had never truly known peace, must have felt as if he had been transported to heaven.

The mere idea of a normal life, filled with rest, nourishment, and sleep, overwhelmed him. A grin formed on his lips, a fleeting expression of madness.

But the smile quickly faded, replaced by a low sigh. "It's finally over. No sword ever pierced my body, not even in the slightest, yet I feel so drained... as though my chest has been deeply wounded," Lux murmured.

Lux was unfamiliar with these foreign emotions. He couldn't quite pinpoint their nature, but he felt as if his heart had been shattered. Loneliness, depression, and a sense of brokenness flooded his being, remnants of the battles he had endured. It was only natural, considering Lux had been a mere child of five when he first entered the throes of war, devoid of any formal education.

It was a sorrowful realization. Lux understood why he felt this way. It echoed the sentiments he had experienced when he lost his parents fifteen years prior. Now, those same feelings consumed him in the aftermath of this war, stealing away his friends and allies with finality.

They were gone, never to return.

He grasped the truth, comprehending the similarities, which made him question his reaction. Why did he feel this way?

His friends, those he had trusted wholeheartedly, were no more. He could no longer relish in their companionship, the very essence that gave his life meaning. Utterly alone now, bereft of the connections he held so dear, Lux found himself unable to experience life in the same vibrant manner.

Ultimately, the future seemed indiscernible to him. A world shrouded in solitude.

"I should have gone with them if only I had foreseen this outcome," he whispered.

Though his words may have lacked clarity, deep down, Lux was right. Without anyone to share his existence, without laughter and camaraderie, life held no distinction from death itself.

A solitary tear slipped from his eye.

It was then that rain began to fall, the sound of thunder reverberating through the air. The downpour quickly drenched the mountain of corpses.

Unable to take any action, Lux realized the weight of his weakness. He had only just comprehended everything, but it was too late. He had been rendered feeble.

Was there even a reason for this tragedy? It had all occurred in the blink of an eye, leaving no trace of worth in his pursuits.

The title of the strongest swordsman... Lux had not sought it for the sake of flaunting his prowess to the world. This was not the path he had tread.

He had been far too late...

Biting his lip, Lux fell silent, incapable of forming coherent thoughts or uttering words.

"Ah, I am so tired. Under these circumstances, sleep doesn't sound so bad. I wish to forget everything that transpired here," he declared before gently closing his eyes.

His words disrupted the silence for a fleeting moment, but they marked his final utterance.

He knew he had endured a tremendous ordeal, and now it was time to rest.

Once he awoke from this transient slumber, he would return to his homeland and begin his life anew.

That was the plan, wasn't it?

'Huh?'

But...

Those eyes, still filled with life, never opened again.