"It's only the first day… how did this happen already?"
"I should've set camp before nightfall," Meruem muttered under his breath.
Then, louder: "I know you're behind me."
An unholy voice slithered from the woods, jagged and inhuman.
Its owner emerged—towering over Meruem. Camouflaged by the colors of the forest, it looked less like a beast and more like an eldritch mistake. Something that never should've been born.
It didn't radiate calm like the forest. It was rage incarnate—like a river, flooding and thrashing, tearing through stone and ship alike.
The creature leaned in, its grin widening.
"Ahh... sharp senses you've got. Maybe you're different… or not? I don't really know... is it... is it…?"
It clawed at its own skin mid-sentence, tearing flesh, blood trickling down its arms.
"All the others, I thought the same. They come. They go. And they break. There's so many of you. Too many. It's weird... how you're all so weak."
It crept closer.
"Humans fear darkness. Not because they know what's there... but because they don't. They fear the idea of what might lurk in it. That fear of chance… it's pathetic."
It grinned again, teeth sharp like rusted blades.
"If they saw what really hides in the dark... they'd fear so much more."
Meruem didn't flinch.
"Then let me show you why I'm different."
He shifted into a perfect stance, blade in hand, and struck with deadly precision.
He missed.
What?
"I couldn't have missed," he whispered. "It felt like the blade went through him—this never happens. My attacks always land."
The creature laughed.
"That was it? That weak swing? Child's play. I didn't even need to dodge."
Meruem's grip tightened.
'It was just a fluke,' he told himself. 'Just one miss.'
He lunged again, this time faster, sharper—deadly.
The monster's face twitched. Surprise. A hint of… amusement?
And then—
CRACK.
His sword snapped in half.
Meruem's heartbeat thundered in his chest. His hands trembled.
His stance faltered. His grip loosened.
His sharp, focused eyes—now dull. Lifeless.
The courage he'd spent years forging?
Gone.
All the effort, the years of training, the victories—worthless before this thing.
He was supposed to make monsters fear him.
Instead…
He was drowning in fear himself.
"What's happening?" he thought. "This wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to be the hope. The light. I'm the one who's supposed to fix everything. So how…?"
He raised his eyes, barely breathing.
The voice echoed again—but this time, it was his own. Or maybe something inside him.
"Run. RUN. You can't win. You HAVE to run!"
Meruem hesitated. For just a second.
Then he turned and fled.
The monster didn't chase him.
A mercy?
No.
It feared something.
It knew what waited in the deeper shadows—ancient evils that even it dared not face.
It whispered, almost to itself: "Until we meet again… though you'll probably be dead before that."
Meruem ran in silence.
'How did it come to this? I was the pride of the village. Their hope. I trained for this my whole life. And the first monster I meet—this? Was everything a lie?'
The world was far worse than he'd been told.
But his training had its uses.
His steps made no sound as he moved. He kept breathing low and steady.
And before dawn, deep in the forest beyond the mountains, he saw it—
Smoke.
And where there's smoke…
There's fire.