Prologue

"KILL HIM, MUSCLEMAN."

"GET HIM, ASHBORN."

On a dark fighting arena dimly lit up around the ring by wooden torches, two men fought while the shadowed crowd cheered them up. The muscular man clenched his fist and swung his arm. "DIE ALREADY!!" he yelled with red eyes.

The lean man showed a hint of smile and said, "Idiot." 

He took a step back, dodging the wide attack.

But the muscular man kept swinging his arms. 

"You should try attacking straight for a change," the lean man said with a shoulder-wide leg stance. "Like this." 

A right punch to the solar plexus. 

The muscular man then stopped his swinging for a second. 

"WOOOAH, ASHBORN." 

Ashborn then twisted his hips and swung his left hand to muscleman's lower right ribs. 

BOOOM! A sound resembling a gunshot reverberated across the arena. 

Muscleman stood there, unhinged. 

"Just this... ISN"T ENOUGH." 

He swung his right hand again, aiming Ashborn's face. The fist connected faster than before, caving in Ashborn's entire midface.

'Why is there no sound of impact?' Muscleman thought. 

Ashborn smiled at him as his head slowly turned into ashes. 

"OHHHHH, HERE IT IS." 

The crowd went wild.

Ashborn's body and clothes followed right after, turning the ring into an ashy mess. 

'What? I never heard of this. He was a <blessed >?' 

The ash swiftly gathered behind Muscleman which he noticed and turned around. Ashborn materialized and said, "Checkmate." 

He grabbed muscleman in a rear chokehold with a relaxed look on his face. Muscleman tried to grip on his head but his hand went right through the skull. 

'Fuck, fuck. I can't breathe.' 

Gritting his teeth while tightening his body, muscleman jumped up in the air and yelled, "GET FUCKED!!!"

His consciousness faded then gravity did it's work. In a chokehold, they both went straight to the floor. The onlookers patiently looked at both of them and saw only Ashborn's upper body, fainted muscleman and a ton of ash beneath them. 

Ashborn said, "Well, that was pointless."

"HE WOOOOOON!!!!"

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

"BRO NEEDS TO CHILLLLLLLL."

Beneath all the cheers and chaos, everyone had the same thought. 'Monster.'

. . .

Years later, in a dimly lit tavern, a middle-aged man slammed his wooden mug on the table and grinned proudly. "And that is how I became the strongest man in the village."

"Before Sir Benjamin came and fucked you up before taking your crush and fucking her too", a bystander said with a stoic face.

"Fuck off."

The people inside the tavern laughed at the scene. The hooded man staying at the corner thought, 'What a peaceful place you've made, my friend.'

. . . 

At the northern edge of the village was a mansion with a colorful garden.

Watering the flowers, a young maid named Elara looked at the man sweeping the ground and said, "What pretty flowers, these are. It feels as if they would wither away if I touched them. Right, Kevin?"

Kevin continued sweeping and replied, "They pale in comparison though." He glanced at Elara, a hint of a smile on his lips.

The maid feigned ignorance and said, "In comparison to what?"

The man closed his eyes with a smile. 

"The object of comparison already knows."

Turning to the flowers again, she asked the man a question. 

"Have you heard anything about young master Benedict being afraid to pick up a sword?"

The man continued sweeping the floor. 'Changing topics, huh?' 

"What do you think? Do you think it happened?" 

The maid came stood beside the man and watered the flowers there. "Everyone is saying it happened so I think it did. But..."

She put the empty water can down and continued, "It's hard to imagine master Benjamin's blood being weak. So. . . will you tell me now?" 

"You're half-correct."

"Huh?"

A tall young boy holding a blood-dripping wooden sword looked down at a crawling man while wiping the blood on his sword. 

The crawling man said to himself, "This isn't what I heard. What the fuck?" 

The boy extended his hand to the left and the man said, "I-I was ordered to-" 

A head went flying. 

The boy looked at his hand and dropped the wooden sword. "Ah. Ah. I'm a lowlife. Why did I do that? No, I didn't do it. It wasn't my fault." 

The boy held his head and swayed uncontrollably. "I will be punished again."

He collapsed on the ground. 

"I. . . I'm not a monster. . . . . . Mom."