1 Prologue

"One of the deepest impulses in man is the impulse to record, to scratch a drawing on a tusk or keep a diary… The enduring value of the past is, one might say, the very basis of civilization."

John Jay Chapman, American author (1862-1933)

"History is not the past but a map of the past, drawn from a particular point of view, to be useful to the modern traveler."

Henry Glassie, US historian (1941- )

"History is a jangle of accidents, blunders, surprises, and absurdities, and so is our knowledge of it, but if we are to report it at all we must impose some order upon it."

Henry Steele Commager, American historian (1902-1998)

You. How well do you know your country's history? Have you studied it well? Somewhere deep in our minds, we know for sure that not everything that is written in textbooks or any sort of evidence to prove the events that happened in the past are all true. The thought of our history being rewritten or changed dramatically in order to hide important details and crucial information never fades in our tiny curious minds.

"Only the triumphant has knowledge of the past."

***

Peace has been once again attained by humans. With the help of these people called "Warriors", who were blessed by the superior beings with the power to trample over the lives of the vicious and horrendous creatures called "Radge", threats to humans' daily lives have been restored.

And to commemorate and congratulate those who survived and those who didn't, Quesaint is holding a large celebration for the "Warriors."

All were dressed elegantly. Women's clothes were shining through the dazzling light of the chandeliers as it reflects the beauty of the night going on in the spacious mansion filled with laughter and chatter.

"Tonight's banquet is one of the most grandeur and most fabulous ones I've seen! Everywhere you look there is beauty in it!"

Every year a banquet is held by Quesaint, the country where the vast land goes as far as the horizon could reach. It is to annually recognize the arduous efforts of the "Warriors", protecting Quesaintians from the evil threat of the "Radge."

A well-groomed man in his 30s came in to join the celebration. As someone who had always been fighting and serving the country against the powerful force of the "Radge", this man has never attended the banquets held every year, for he finds it boring and a waste of time.

"Just by being known as a Warrior, you will get a lot of praise and heartfelt gratitude from Quesaintians."

Walking through the busy crowd, who were idling and drinking to their heart's desire, the man slightly pulled his necktie to loosen it up a bit. He was feeling annoyed at how tight it had been placed around his collar.

And from a passing waiter who was holding a tray of different glassed drinks, carefully lifting his arm up so as not to collide with anyone, the man instinctively prevented an accident.

The waiter almost tripped and fell over from a couple slow dancing to the rhythm playing in the background.

Fear was definitely written all over the waiter's face, an expression of someone who almost had a heart attack. Exaggerating as it may sound, the waiter was most definitely cautious of what might happen had he spilled the drinks all over the floor and caused a scene.

"Uh! Thank you, sir!"

The waiter showed his utmost gratitude through the gentle bow of his head and the relief that had overwritten the fear on his face.

"I didn't do anything," the man nonchalantly replied. "Just be careful."

"Wait, aren't you Mr. Desmond?! I'm a huge fan, sir! Please take a drink and enjoy!"

Offering a glass of different drinks was all the waiter could do. Well, if Desmond wanted to eat something, he is free to fetch himself a plate and pick something delicious from the full-course meal prepared for everyone.

"A fan, you said? What can I do? I can't decline an offer from a fan."

Desmond then gullibly chose the most pleasing drink based on its dark red color while slightly smirking, happy that there are people who adore him.

"He was looking pale earlier just because he almost messed up. And now he emits this bright aura around him." Desmond thought to himself as he raised the glass and lightly lifted both of his brows as a sign of thanking the waiter for the drink.

Desmond delved further into the party, shutting his ear from the pointless topics being talked about by people, but still letting one ear open for an interesting conversation he can join, so as not to feel out of place. However, he would rather choose to stay isolated from people he does not know instead of wasting his time trying to blend in.

"Renowned Warriors these days are much more popular than celebrities. They are celebrities themselves nowadays!"

Other Warriors on their days off would do a side hustle like modeling or even acting, although being a Warrior gets paid quite a large sum of money. However, it is based dramatically on one's popularity, ability, and achievements in the past.

"I am a decent Warrior with quite the fanbase, so I didn't have to bother myself doing another job. Being a Warrior alone is kinda tiring, but for me, it is still the best job this world could have."

Yes, his job is dangerous but for Desmond, it is everything that he's got. He never bothered himself getting a girlfriend. He had a girlfriend once who just broke his heart and his passion for romance completely died away right after. Desmond then focused on becoming a great Warrior, making a name for himself in Quesaint and climbing the ranks for the best Warriors. Even though he never reached the top 10, Desmond was grateful for being in the leaderboards for the top 100.

"May I have everyone's attention please?"

A voice spoke through the microphone placed on the second floor. The MC for tonight's banquet caught everyone's eyes the moment she uttered the first few words. Not just because of how loud it echoed but because of how softly delivered and mesmerizing her voice was.

"And in everyone's eyes, she is the star, shining brighter than the others surrounding her. Her pulchritude captures the gaze of those who look above the sky."

Desmond stopped upon reminding himself how bad of a poet he will be had he decided to be one. But still, his passion for poems and literature would push him to utter such, if not cringe, delightful choice of words.

Captivated by her words and fineness, Desmond was unaware that her role was passed onto the very important person of them all.

"Mr. Fridtjof, commonly known as 'Frid, the Legendary Warrior'."

He is the person Desmond looked up to the most. A father figure to him, but most of the time an inspiration among others. Frid is someone who every Warrior likes and looks up to. Frid is the number one Warrior in the overall ranking system.

A brave, fierce, man of focus, and sheer will. That is who Frid is in everyone's eyes. He had led the war against the "Radge" for the past 40 years. And he is the main reason why peace is finally in Quesaint's hands.

"At the age of 20, Frid sprang out of nowhere. With the overpowered abilities he possessed, Frid was labeled as the "Golden Egg" of Quesaint. Unlike any common Warrior, Frid has two abilities, which makes him the most unique of us all."

Desmond proceeded to tell parts of history written in books. And the most popular of them all is the "Origin of Power and Monstrosity", which he personally likes as it describes and answers all of a person's questions regarding the existence of both Warriors, Radge, and the powers bestowed by superior beings.

"Just like the seeds of life, saplings of abilities sprang on the surface of the earth, conquering wars and the normalities of troubles."

Many big figures had been recorded in this book, Warriors who stood against the Radge, remarkable individuals who made history but among those people, Frid was the most outstanding and powerful of them all. Strangely enough, not a single woman was recorded in history books regarding the matter. However, as time goes by, women strive in the contest and gradually develop and pave their way to the top of the leaderboards.

"A stout man can't look that young in their 60s."

The sentence was a compliment for the descending gentleman in his fine linen suit, matched with a wristwatch embedded with diamond crystals all over it. His dark grey silky hair was brushed to the side while having a middle part. His face showed no sign of old age, no wrinkles and dark circles under his eyes.

Each step resounded in Desmond's ears. Thud, thud, thud, Frid's footsteps resonated with Desmond's heartbeat. And for some reason, Desmond felt uncomfortable. A strike of an ominous vibe hit him, which

somehow had Desmond on his guard.

"What is this gut feeling?"

Such a feeling was something Desmond did not ignore. He was bothered by the sudden strike of a bad aura, confused as to where and what exactly caused it.

As Frid approached the spotlight—all eyes focused on him—the moon that was perfectly aligned with the glass roof peeked, shone, and directed its light toward him. It was as though the moon was actually there to glaze Frid's magnificence. It looked like the moon added brilliance to Frid before he began with his words of gratitude.

Everyone could not help but gasp at the wonderful sight. In their eyes, Frid was really blessed by the gods. Everyone was in awe, except for Desmond who, at the moment, was still concerned about the ill feeling he was undergoing with.

The clapping of everyone's pair of hands reverberated inside the mansion. Each and everyone applauded Frid's arrival, again, except for Desmond.

"Thank you, thank you!"

Frid greeted everyone with that majestic smile that seamlessly captures all of the women's hearts. It was a smile so captivating you would realize that you yourself were smiling. It was that contagious.

But then again, there was Desmond, standing in the middle of everyone whilst holding his glass of red wine that aged well, baffled by the new sudden rush of adrenaline. He was immediately filled with the urge to flee the mansion.

"This crippling feeling isn't gonna go away!"

Consecutive sharp pain occurred in his chest, causing him to clutch on his clothes as he sought peace away from the crowd, hoping that by going outside for a bit the uneasiness will fade away.

"Excuse me, excuse me," he hurried up to the closest door but was then met with fellow Warriors who were happy to see him.

"Woah! Desmond?! You actually came? I thought you'll be skipping this year's banquet too!"

"Well, this might be the last banquet, so I sort of decided to come."

After responding, Desmond wished to go through them but was stopped once again.

"No need to be in a rush, Desmond! Come on, let's enjoy the night. Drink with us, man!"

One had already wrapped his arm around Desmond's shoulder while the other was making him drink bourbon whiskey.

"W-Wait!"

It was too late. Desmond had already drunk halfway through the shot, so he just finished it and this time they let him go.

"I'll be back, guys. I'm just... not really feeling well all of a sudden."

"Oh... O-Okay, then. Come back when you're feeling well."

Finally, he was outside, breathing some fresh air from the blowing trees right above him. The breeze of the night was far fresher than the cool winds of the summer.

"I've calmed down, but the uneasiness in my heart still persists."

He closed his eyes as he breathed deeply, then gradually let go of that contained air inside his lungs. He repeatedly does the process until it subsides, not completely but a part of it.

Being alone in the dark, which seemed to be more relaxing than being amidst people Desmond does not want to associate himself with, was far better.

"It's been five minutes since I've gone out. I should head back to say my goodbye to them and leave."

As he decided to leave early, Desmond caught the eerie vibe now that enshrouded the whole mansion. The inside of the large building was bright with lights hanging on the side of the walls while the sound of his footsteps as he approached got louder and louder. Silence swiftly went over his ears.

Slowly and hesitantly, his hand reached for the door. The tip of his fingers barely touched the oak wood carved into a fine craft. Then his hand gently pushed the right side of the double door, which caused it to sneakily creak open.

While the wood while ajar, his eyes searched for the cause of the eerie vibe looming over his head. But the first thing his eyes caught was the streaming liquid substance coming from inside.

"Smells like blood. What is going on here?"

So as to satisfy his current urge to know what was happening, Desmond widely opened the door. And to his surprise, his eyes bawled in shock, everyone was feasting upon each other.

"The president, acquaintances, celebrities, the guests, and even the workers for Frid's mansion were mindlessly eating each other's flesh. I saw the burning desire for blood and power. Their gnawing teeth dug deeper and eventually tore off their friend's flesh. They uttered no cry of pain. In my eyes, they were all dead people."

And they reminded Desmond of the dark force, "Radge".

"What's this? Did I miss someone? Who do we have here?"

You don't know how fast Desmond turned his head in the direction where the voice came from. His consciousness was all focused on the matter in front of him but it was immediately averted to the man none other than Frid, who does not seem to be affected by whatever was occurring to everyone.

"Oh, well. I'm just gonna have to consume you and steal your ability. Desmond, right? You've been a great Warrior."

And before Desmond could react to it, blood dripped down the side of his mouth as a sharp pain struck him from behind. It was not that long until he realized that Frid had instantly gone behind him, thus gouging out his heart.

"Appearances and personalities are what really differ when it comes to us, humans. Inside, we are all ugly creatures, hiding behind a mask built by our facade."

Strength from Desmond's body slowly dissipate, thus rendering him unable to fight back the overwhelming power Frid was releasing as he easily lifted Desmond up in the air using only one hand.

"Ugh!"

"Become food to the hungry vile creatures we call... humans."

Pain ran through Desmond's whole body as he rolled vigorously into the swarm of famished mindless humans who had just finished feasting upon people he knew.

Instantly, the swarm flocked all over him, clutching everywhere they could grab onto, which released indescribable strength a man could not possess.

Throughout the entire process of devouring Desmond, all he could utter was a scream from the agonizing pain of getting eaten alive, although his heart had been shattered from his chest not too long ago. They tore him apart, bit all over his body, ripping off whatever flesh he had until there was nothing left.

"All that is left to start the ritual and let history repeat itself."