City of Silver, Mortuary.

Derrick stood in front of a flight of stairs as he looked straight ahead with reddened eyes. In front of him were two coffins containing his parents.

Embedded in a stone plate in front of him was a simple silver sword. The frequent booming of thunder caused the house to shake and the sword to sway.

The Berg couple inside the coffins weren’t completely dead yet. They struggled to keep their eyes open while making weak attempts to heave for air, but in the eyes of some, the luster of their lives could no longer suppress their irreversible darkening.

“Derrick, do it!” An elder dressed in a long black robe looked at the youth and said in a deep voice with a staff in his hand. The expression of the youth was visibly contorted.

“No, no, no!” Derrick, who had brownish-yellow hair, shook his head repeatedly. He took a step back with every word, and finally let out a ear-piercing scream.

Thump!

The elder struck down his staff and said, “Do you wish for the whole city to be buried along with your parents?”

“You should know that we are the People of the Dark who have been forsaken by God. We, we can only live in a cursed place like this and all the dead would become horrifying evil spirits. There’s no way to reverse it regardless of what we do, other than—other than ending their lives by the hands of a family member!”

“Why? Why?” Derrick asked in despair, shaking his head. “Why are the citizens of the City of Silver destined to kill their parents the moment they are born…”

The elder closed his eyes, as if recalling what he had experienced in the past. “This is our destiny, this is the curse we must bear, this is the will of God…”

“Draw your sword, Derrick. This is a show of respect for your parents.

“After this, when you have calmed down, you can try becoming a Divine Blood Warrior.”

In the coffin, Berg tried to speak, but he could only let out a groan after his chest heaved several times.

Derrick took several steps forward with great difficulty, returning to the side of the silver sword. He extended his shivering right hand.

His brain registered the cold touch of the metal, causing him to recall the Blood Ice his father brought back when he went hunting. Blood Ice the size of a mere palm was enough to keep his home cool for a few days.

Images flashed past his eyes—his stern father teaching sword techniques, his friendly father patting away the dust on his back, his gentle mother mending his clothes, his brave mother stepping in front of him when they encountered a mutated monster, and finally, his family huddling in front of a flickering candle and sharing food…

A faint sound croaked from his throat despite his utmost suppression. With a low grunt, he exerted force with his right hand and drew the sword.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

raising the sword and driving it

The blood

He pulled out the sword and pierced it into the coffin by the

Derrick released

the condition of the people inside the coffin. Derrick stumbled as he ran out of the Mortuary, as if he was being chased by evil spirits. His fists

had taken in everything from the

Silver. Atop the stone pillars were lanterns, and within

no stars; only an unchanging darkness and lightning

The few hours when the lightning died down was considered by them as the true night as mentioned in the legends. That was

way along the street. He didn’t have anywhere he wanted to go, but as he walked, he realized that

saw the familiar sights, but he didn’t hear his mother’s concerned voice or his father reprimanding him for running about. The house was empty

his room and searched for the crystal ball. His father had told him

knelt and faced the crystal ball, praying without any hope in mind. He pleaded bitterly, “O Magnificent Deity, please cast your eyes on this land that

the Dark, be

life to you, using my blood to

complete despair and about to stand, he saw a dark red glow burst forth from the

like flowing

he regained his senses, he realized that he was standing in a magnificent palace supported by giant stone pillars. In front of him was a long ancient table, and on the other side of the table was a human

him. It was empty and ethereal. Under him was a

a flame of hope ignite in his heart. He stared at the human figure at the very top,

“You, are you God?”

suddenly remembered a statement he read from a book in the City of Silver

was: “You may not look directly

posture and answered using the language of the giants, Jotun, “I am not God,

He noticed that the youth in front of him had different colors covering the surface

meant that he was not a

Fool… Derrick ruminated over the term and,

if you’re God or The Fool, my prayers will not change. I hope that the people of the City of Silver will be freed from the curse of their destinies. I hope that the sun and sky described in the books will appear

am not a wishing well… Klein put down his hands

I help

for some

my soul to you. I will use my blood to

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