That night, the sky was covered in heavy clouds.

  Rain had been falling since dusk, turning the refugee settlement’s ground into dark mud. Small campfires still burned in a few corners while the refugees gathered around the simple wooden buildings they had built with their own hands.

  This place had once been quiet.

  The settlement stood on the edge of the frontier, far from major cities and far from the main routes of war. The people who lived there came from many lands destroyed by conflict between territories. They built a new life from whatever little they had left.

  For them, this place was the end of their escape.

  But that night, a sound from the distance shattered the calm.

  The thunder of hooves.

  Then the clash of metal.

  Several people turned toward the wooden gate of the settlement. Dark shapes moved through the mist of rain.

  And then light flashed.

  A blast of magic struck the gate.

  The rain-soaked wood shattered with a deafening crack.

  Screams erupted at once.

  “Soldiers!”

  “Run—!”

  But there was no time to run.

  Armored soldiers in dark armor surged into the settlement like a black tide. The emblem of the empire was clearly engraved on their chests.

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  Magic burned in the hands of several among them.

  A flash of light struck the first building.

  Flames spread instantly.

  People ran in panic. Some tried to fight back with old swords, woodcutting axes, or crude spears.

  But the resistance was never equal.

  A man who rushed toward a soldier fell instantly when a burst of magic pierced through his chest. His body collapsed into the muddy ground without a second sound.

  Another scream followed.

  Women.

  Children.

  The elderly.

  Voices of pain mixed with the sound of rain and the explosions of magic tearing through the night.

  Several small children hid inside a concealed underground shelter near the main building of the settlement. Their bodies curled into the corner of the narrow space, hands pressed against their ears as they tried to block out the sounds above.

  But the sounds were too close.

  Cries of agony echoed clearly through the soil and wooden boards that sealed the shelter.

  The thud of soldiers’ footsteps.

  The crash of something heavy falling.

  And screams that ended far too suddenly.

  This refugee settlement had once been a place nearly forgotten by the war.

  Located on the frontier lands that once belonged to the Zhennang Empire, it became a refuge for people fleeing from many kingdoms. They lived outside the politics of territories, simply trying to survive on land considered insignificant by the great powers of the world.

  But war never truly ends.

  The great conflict known as the Imperial War had reshaped the map of the world again and again. Kingdoms collapsed, empires expanded, and borders were redrawn by rulers who never witnessed the suffering their decisions created.

  When the war entered its second phase, old territories changed hands.

  Land once considered neutral became part of a new empire.

  And refugee settlements like this… were never granted the right to remain.

  Under the increasingly heavy rain, the slaughter continued.

  Wooden buildings collapsed one after another.

  Fire devoured the rain-soaked rooftops.

  Human bodies lay scattered across ground that had turned into red mud.

  Several soldiers walked among the corpses, ensuring that none were left alive.

  After some time, the sounds of resistance disappeared entirely.

  All that remained was the rain and the embers still burning among the ruins.

  The imperial soldiers left as they had come.

  Without ceremony.

  Without mercy.

  They abandoned the settlement in complete ruin.

  Time passed.

  The rain continued to fall through the night.

  Blood mixed with water slowly seeped into the soil.

  Several days later, among the ruins that still smelled of smoke, the wooden board sealing the underground shelter began to move.

  Small hands pushed against it from below.

  The debris holding it down shifted little by little until it opened just wide enough for someone to climb out.

  One child crawled out first.

  Then the others followed.

  They stood among the ruins of the settlement that had become ash.

  No sound of life remained there.

  Only corpses and burned buildings.

  Some of the children lowered their heads when they saw the bodies of people they once knew lying on the ground.

  Others simply stood in silence, too stunned to cry.

  Among them stood a child with white hair.

  He said nothing.

  His red eyes looked down at the ground around him.

  Red, almost the same color as the fresh blood scattered across the mud.

  A cold wind passed through the ruins of the settlement.

  And in the place that had once been home to those who fled from war… a small ember of hatred began to burn in the hearts of those who survived.