With a desperate cry, he raised both swords high and swung down in a powerful strike. Baskervill blocked with his spear—but the weapon snapped in two.
I've broken his weapon! Hans thought. Now I can finish him!
He was wrong.
In his moment of triumph, Hans made a critical mistake—he took his eyes off the demon for a split second.
CLACK.
He looked down. His right hand had fallen to the ground.
Pain hit him like lightning. He screamed, his voice rising with raw agony. Baskervill stepped forward and kicked Hans in the gut, sending him sprawling to the dirt.
Hans's mind reeled.
But I broke his weapon… where did he get another one?
Baskervill loomed over him. His voice was deep, cruel, and smooth.
"Humans. Pathetic, feeble creatures. Fit for nothing but being our food."
He raised his spear, its tip pointed straight at Hans's heart.
This was the end.
Each breath Hans took could be his last.
Just as Baskervill was about to thrust, he suddenly froze.
Hans blinked in confusion, his pain momentarily forgotten.
The demon stood, motionless, spear still held above him—his gaze fixed on something down the road.
Hans turned his head.
Attu.
At the far end of the burning street stood a boy. Baskervill had sensed it—mana. Not just any mana—uncontrolled, potent, and ancient. Even from this distance, the demon could feel it radiating off him.
"Who is this boy? What is this power coming from him?" Baskervill growled.
"Let's find out."
From within the burning village, I suddenly heard a sharp whistle cut through the chaos. It was Baskervill.
He had whistled—and all the hounds began emerging from between the flames, heading toward the main street.
[What's he doing? Why is he calling all the beasts to him?] I wondered, fear clawing at my chest.
There was nothing left on my face but terror. My lips trembled involuntarily, and my legs felt like they had lost all strength. Then the demon whistled a second time.
But this time, the hounds didn't run to him…
They came straight at me.
The moment I saw the beasts charging in my direction, my fear surged into full-blown panic.
Just then, I heard a scream.
"Run!"
My mother.
She appeared from nowhere—either she'd suddenly arrived, or I'd simply been so frozen with fear that I hadn't noticed her until she grabbed my hand and pulled me into a desperate sprint.
She didn't let go.
No matter what happened, her grip on my hand was firm, unrelenting. She wasn't running for herself—she was running for me. I could tell from the way her eyes darted back over her shoulder again and again, watching for the demon chasing us.
I still hadn't fully regained my senses. The things I had seen—the things he had done—had paralyzed me with fear. But she dragged me forward.
We were headed toward the forest by the river. She had made up her mind. The only way to escape the demon was to get to the river. To cross it. Somehow.
As she ran ahead of me, still holding my hand tight, I could hear her whispering over and over, breathless with desperation:
"Just a little more… Please, God… just a little more…"
At last, the river came into view. She turned to me, eyes lighting up with hope.
"Attu… Just a few more steps…"
But then her face changed.
In an instant, the joy vanished from her expression, replaced with dread. She wasn't looking at me—she was looking behind me.
Baskervill was still far away, but he had lifted his spear, ready to throw.
My mother saw it. She understood.
With two steps left to the river, she suddenly stopped and threw herself behind me.
I didn't understand—why had she stopped?
But I turned.
And I saw it.
The spear flying through the air.
Everything clicked.
She had seen it before I had.
And she had made her choice.
In the last moment, she shoved me into the river with all her strength, just before the demon's spear struck her.
As I fell into the water, I saw her face—clear as daylight.
She smiled at me.
Her eyes were full of tears… and love.
The spear pierced through her midsection. It entered through her back and tore through her stomach. Yet she kept smiling. Even as her body crumpled, her eyes stayed on me—one last moment of warmth in a world turned to ash.
That smile burned itself into my soul.
I fell.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't scream.
I couldn't fight back.
All I could do was watch as my mother was impaled.
All I could do was fall into the water and cry out with all the rage, sorrow, and helplessness inside me.
"MOTHER!!!"
And then, the river swallowed me whole.