Arthur's gaze settled on the man with precision. He was tall… yet still nearly half a head shorter than him.
His eyes were a deep turquoise, neither warm nor cold, but carrying a quiet glow. His long black hair was tied behind his head, though a few strands were deliberately left to fall over his forehead.
Every detail about him felt calculated. Polished… almost to the point of horror. As if he had stepped out of a noble palace rather than a battlefield.
"A damned noble again…" Arthur sighed inwardly. He had met many nobles before, but something about this man in particular made him feel as if his skin wanted to shrink away.
"I am Noah Theodore." The man spoke while lightly twirling his sword.
"I am Arthur Bryce. How did you kill that man? I didn't even notice." Arthur pointed toward the bodies. There were many… yet they all looked as if they had fallen at the exact same moment, at the same angle, as if their killer hadn't been human.
Noah smiled faintly more like his facial muscles were imitating a smile rather than feeling it.
"I can do much more…" he said in a calm, almost proud tone. Then added in a lower voice, "But I only… controlled it. This is nothing."
In the evening, Arthur returned to the temporary house he was staying in.
Darkness had begun to creep over the city, followed by a heavy silence.
He washed the blood off his body, his hands, his neck—but it still lingered in his eyes.
He sat down quietly, drinking coffee, steam rising from the cup.
Then came a soft knock. "Come in."
Noah entered calmly, glancing around the place for a moment before sitting on one of the chairs.
He looked at Arthur and said, "You look… like a human now."
A simple sentence but it landed like a carefully wrapped blade.
Now that he had cleaned himself, Arthur had regained a sense of sharp elegance.
His thick black hair, falling to his ears, gleamed under the dim light. His brown eyes were slightly narrowed, still as sharp as ever despite everything.
He looked like someone ready to kill again… even while drinking coffee.
Noah studied his face for a moment, then spoke quietly, as if stating a forgotten truth. "You have the eyes of a killer."
Arthur didn't respond. He continued drinking.
"What does the master want?" Arthur asked in a low voice, heavy with expectation.
Noah sighed slowly, as if the thought itself weighed on him.
"There is a large camp…" he said flatly. "I will destroy it soon… completely." He then pointed at Arthur's feet, where traces of blood had once been. "And I will need your destructive power… without limits this time."
He paused, then added, "After that, we will go to the capital for some rest. The master wants to see you himself."
Arthur frowned slightly. "Master Edminial… last time, he seemed angry. He rarely loses his composure. What made him angry?"
Noah didn't answer immediately. He stared at the cup of coffee on the table.
"Angry?" he murmured thoughtfully. "I wasn't there, but… when the master is angry, it is never because of a small mistake. It is because someone… dared to surpass him."
Arthur didn't press further. Some things were not spoken easily, even among the close ones.
"When do we move?" he finally broke the silence.
"Whenever you choose," Noah replied, then tilted his head slightly. "But before that… I need to disguise myself. Do you have anyone here who can help with that? Or materials?"
Arthur took another sip of his coffee, then answered confidently. "I can help you myself."
Noah gave a quiet nod.
"We leave tomorrow morning," Arthur said, standing up to arrange some scattered papers.
But Noah didn't respond. He turned his face toward the window, eyes sinking into the silence outside. 'I've never had rest…' The thought passed through him like dust that refused to settle.
He remained seated for a while longer, then stood up and left without a word.
Arthur watched him go. He saw him stop in front of a young guard, exchange a few quiet words, then walk toward a rock at the edge of the garden and sit down, lighting a cigarette.
Smoke rose into the darkness, swallowing part of his face.
Arthur returned inside.
The room was cold, but the presence of another strong individual nearby gave him a strange sense of security.
He lay on his bed and closed his eyes, sinking into deep sleep without dreams.
Four hours later, he opened his eyes.
Something inside him had woken him.
He walked to the window. The light was dim. The sky still dark. Noah… was still there.
Sitting on the same rock. Drinking, smoking, and talking casually with the guard.
"He's an addict," Arthur muttered to himself with a faint smile but there was caution in his voice.
He opened the window and called out loudly. "Theodore!"
Noah slowly turned his head and looked at Arthur with tired, neutral eyes neither annoyed nor friendly.
"Do you still want the disguise?" Arthur asked with rare excitement. He clearly wanted to mess around.
Noah stood up slowly.
Ash fell from his cigarette, scattering onto the ground as he said goodbye to the guard.
His sigh was heavy, like the last bit of patience leaving his body.
Then he entered the house again.
He sat in silence, leaning slightly back, his eyes half-lidded, watching the room as if he wanted no part in anything.
Meanwhile, Arthur moved around the room searching, opening drawers, rummaging through boxes, muttering to himself.
Noah's eyes followed him with quiet impatience.
Then suddenly "Found it!" Arthur said excitedly, like a child discovering a forgotten toy.
He walked over and handed Noah a small bag. "Wash your hair with this. It'll change the color… not sure what color exactly. The surprise is part of the fun."
Noah took the bag, feeling a strange tension creep in.
He looked at Arthur, who had already gone back to rummaging without care.
After a while, Noah returned from the other room…
His hair had turned snow-white, streaked with deep blue strands.
He stopped at the doorway, silent. "…."
Arthur lifted his gaze toward him, then quickly lowered it again. His lips trembled slightly with suppressed laughter, but he held it in.
Noah didn't look bad… In fact , he looked like someone who had just stepped out of a nightmare.
"Good… I look handsome." Noah said in a dead tone, almost drawing his sword in the same motion.
Arthur finally let out a muffled laugh, then opened a small box and took out a black pigment, beginning to apply dark touches under Noah's eyes.
But he suddenly froze. White pigment bled out from under his fingers.
"What is this?" Arthur asked.
He leaned closer, inspecting it, then noticed something else Noah's dark eye circles weren't just fatigue… they carried something heavier, almost bloody in tone.
"Who punched you here? Even if you get hit?" Arthur asked, half serious, half amused.
Noah gave him a sideways glance.
"Are you a clown?" he asked flatly, without emotion.
But Arthur kept working on his face as if he were restoring a statue. Noah seriously considered hitting him… but the memory of Lord Edminial's anger alone kept his body still.
"Damn you…" Noah muttered, eyes locked on Arthur's hands.
Arthur stepped back, examining the final result with a critical look.
"Theodore, don't tie your hair this time. Leave it loose. People might think you're dead."
Noah didn't respond. He simply did as instructed.
But when he turned, he saw Arthur suddenly burst into loud laughter, unable to believe Noah had taken it seriously.
Arthur left the room, leaving the door open behind him.
"I'll be outside. Take your time if you need."
A few minutes later, Noah stepped out.
Part of his hair was tied loosely, while the rest flowed freely over his shoulders.
He said nothing, simply joined Arthur, who was calmly saying goodbye to the soldiers.
"Are you not taking anyone with you?" Noah asked as he walked beside him steadily.
Arthur glanced back ,a tall man followed behind him with confident steps.
A solid muscular build, a silver armor identical to Arthur's, long black hair, and red eyes.
Noah tried to recall him… but failed. Still, no annoyance appeared on his face.
"I am enough." Arthur said calmly, then cast a brief evaluating glance at Arlo.
Arlo introduced himself in a few short words.
Then silence fell, and they walked behind Noah as he led the way.
Before reaching the camp, Noah suddenly stopped.
He turned to them and gestured lightly.
"I will infiltrate inside… and create complete chaos from within."
Then he looked at Arthur. "You… open a crack in the ground. Trap them inside their own death."
Finally, he turned to Arlo. "And you… what do you want to do?"
Arlo thought for a moment. "I can… kill everyone I see."
Noah smiled faintly. It wasn't entirely human.
And strangely, Arlo understood the signal , In an instant, the two disappeared together.
Arthur remained standing, staring at the ground ahead… as if watching an abyss he knew he would create himself.
He sat at the edge, observing the camp from a distance.
Nothing happened He sighed in boredom and rested his chin on his hand, like someone watching a dull play.
But inside the camp, Noah was already moving.
He looked like an ordinary soldier, helping the wounded, bending down to treat someone's injury, patting another on the shoulder.
Then, as the sun slowly broke over the walls, he drew his sword.
He swung it in smooth circular motions through the air… and then the attack began.
Noah moved like a rebellious shadow. He killed the weak first those who couldn't scream, couldn't defend themselves. Precise. Efficient.
On the other side, Arlo had already begun. But Arlo… lacked that precision.
His strikes were blind, brutal, merciless. He didn't distinguish between heart, chest, or skull. Every figure in front of him was an enemy and every enemy deserved annihilation.
Yet something heavy and unknown made him hesitate for a split second. His weapon dropped half an inch. His movements slowed.
He looked around. The chaos was expanding in a terrifying way.
It was breathing. Spreading. Stretching like a starving beast that had just awakened.
Blood flowed as if the ground itself had begun to bleed.
The screams were no longer just cries of pain—they had twisted into something else… something distorted, almost like laughter fused with agony.
Noah and Arlo were no longer the only ones killing.
Some of the wounded who had fallen moments ago—those who were supposed to be on the brink of death—began to rise.
Their movements were unstable, as if their bodies were moving without a soul… or with a different one inside them. Corrupted.
They picked up their weapons again.
Arlo stared at the scene in horror, his eyes unblinking. "…What is this hell?"
Worse still, some of them began copying Noah's movements with disturbing accuracy, like reflections of him… or puppets inhabited by his will.
Arlo tried to understand it but he couldn't even remember when Noah had done this.
He looked at his hands, quickly checked his body—no trace of any trick.
He exhaled slowly, then resumed killing.
If this was hell… then it should be opened completely.
And let it end.
The ground suddenly exploded beneath Noah.
A man emerged from nowhere, striking him violently and raining blows without giving him a moment to respond.
Then the man shouted in pain and realization "He's the butcher of the Theodore family!"
The soldiers froze. They exchanged looks as if a buried truth had suddenly erupted in front of them. "That bastard… he must die here!"
On the hill, Arthur's eyes widened in surprise.
He wanted to intervene but something inside him restrained him.
Below, a new voice echoed across the battlefield.
"In my name… I, Rive, declare my change of allegiance!"
A magical explosion followed, shaking the earth.
Noah kicked the ground and rose, turning his gaze toward Rive.
"You severed your bond with your master… so why do you still fight?" Rive asked confidently, as if the battle was already decided.
But Noah didn't answer immediately.
He paused, looking up at the sky for a moment.
Then said simply "I fight… because I enjoy killing. Not for a master."
Rive froze. "…How… how can you say that?!"
Noah didn't respond.
He looked at him with disgust, as if staring at a corpse unworthy of burial.
Then he smiled. And the chaos intensified.
The puppets he had created shattered once more, and the soldiers were slaughtered again.
Noah moved. A kick sent Rive crashing to the ground.
Rive rose quickly, rage nearly tearing him apart.
He screamed at the top of his voice:
"In my sacred creed… hear me all! Your enemy is Noah Theodore! We will hang his head on a spear!"
And in that moment, Noah saw it.
The invisible threads controlling the battlefield… began to vanish.
' His words are turning into reality…' Noah thought coldly, his eyes sharpening.
"Why force me to take this seriously?" he asked honestly.
Rive had no answer.
The entire army surged forward at once.
Noah didn't move.
He raised his weapon calmly, as if asking permission from it.
Then the massacre began, His strikes turned into black lines in the air.
Anyone who approached… died.
Split. Collapsed. Shattered.
"Those who die now… should know it is for their own good."
He spoke loudly not as a threat, but as a fact.
"As for those who remain… that is simply bad luck."
He smiled , Without mercy.
Then he turned to Arlo. "Do you want to see something truly beautiful?"
"Yes." Arlo replied immediately, eyes shining with excitement.