Beneath the endless void of the night sky, a crimson moon loomed like a bleeding wound in the fabric of reality. Its eerie glow bathed the world in a ghostly red, stretching the shadows into monstrous forms. The air was thick with an unsettling silence, as if the universe itself held its breath, waiting—for what, none could say.
Under its ominous gaze, the earth felt cursed, the very laws of nature trembling in quiet defiance. It was not just a night; it was an omen, a silent whisper of something ancient, forgotten, and watching.
The light of the crimson moon was falling over a castle—now a ruin.
The castle was made up of black stones cut in perfect symmetry. It was like a master swordsman worked to create that castle. The light was falling over the cieling of the castle which now became a floor but the circle of light was still covered by darkness of the night.
The cieling was connected by a fine stairs which were still in better shape. The stairs, the pillars which were lying on the ground like a broken stick, the walls, cieling, floor, everything in the castle was made up of black stones.
But those stones were facing the wrath of the nature—as they were mossy now.
Few footsteps could be heard coming from the stairs. After few seconds, a young man climbed the cieling.
He came towards the light of the crimson moon—more like wanting to bath in it.
He looked above towards the moon—wanting to challenge it, spready his hands wide and a smile on his face.
" Oh, you mighty stars and the guiding moon, gaze upon me with all your wishes and curses. I, who once was forgetten and left alone to rot— now seek vengeance. My name is of no care, but your bloody gaze—crimson light, is of all importance. I, who is powerless—only with a dream, shall slaughter the likes of you and rule over this world. I am Lucien, Lucien Vale—main character of my story. ".
His outfits were bathing in the crimson light of the crimson moon. His fur mantle was still avoiding the crimson light, where as his leather armor with some metal, fur-lined vest, leather pants and boots and gloves were all bathing in the crimson moonlight—like they were accepting what was coming and challenging the moon to come down and face them.
His black eyes and long white hair were complement to each other. His fair skin color and a scar on his face which he got from an unknown enemy showed his ruthlessness. His heavy voice and muscular body showed his achivements to the gazing moon.
The man had a smile on his face, he chuckled, " Oh you divine moon, shall I die in my conquest, shall you be my reincarnation? " but the moon, it was silent like a dark night gazing the man with it's bloody sight and curses but no blessings. The man laughed and came walk down the stairs to the main gate.
The castle was in ruins—but it was also stained with blood of those who failed in their conquest of protecting it—letting it becoming a ruin of memories of those who were gone.
Lucien came out of the stained gate of the castle and his feet touched the stained grass. A sound came out from the contact—a crispy sound. The land around the castle was stained in blood and in the night, it looked more horrific.
The trees around the castle had no leaves, as the autumn winds took them from the trees. The trunk of the trees were stained with blood of the fallens.
The crimson moonlight enchanced it more and the creatures, roaming the stained land looked more horrific with the moonlight.
It was the time on the Earth, when the dark age just ended a century ago and the high medieval period started. Lucien, who lost everything in the war of a foolish king, was now just a mercenary—with a conquest.
His sole conquest was not to emerge as the strongest or have an empire of his own—but to rule over the whole world with only his survival alone.
He was neither a hero nor a messiah.
The crimson moonlight was falling on Lucien and on the creatures roaming on the Earth surface, every crimson and black moon night.
These creatures were monsters who come on every crimson and black moon night to satisfy their hunger and devour humans. These nights come randomly every week with 5 crimson moon nights when the creature emerges from unknown and seek shelter, 1 black moon night when every creature's strength gets 10 times and a normal night where there are no creature.
Lucien kept walking ahead and the crispness of the stained grass kept increasing at every step, the echo could be heard.
Lucien murmured, " Shop: Talent Swords. ".
A crimson window opened infront of him out of nowhere, it was transparent. Numerous swords with different talents were hovering over the window.
" Purchase no. 2761.".
A sword came on Lucien's right hand grip from the thick air. Right infront of him was a creature—an ogre, bathing in the crimson moonlight.
It's 4 eyes, which were of crimson color looked more shining with the crimson moonlight. The orange fur on it's body, enhanced their quality and color from the gaze of the crimson moon. It's rotten claws and teeth, they looked like they were being forced to do their work and the drool dripping from it's mouth was giving the grass what they longed for—their softness and stickiness back.
The ogre roared at Lucien, "Ggguhhhh! " and rushed at him. Lucien, who was calm like—the stillness before a storm, his silence which was heavier than an unspoken truth, stand their like a hand made puppet.
The ogre reached out his hand to grasp his skull—felt in a never ending despair. His hand was cut in just a blink of an eye, his head which looked down on everything was now on the ground—separated from the body.
" The irony is amusing, isn't it, filthy moon? " he chuckled and had a smile on his face.
He sheathed the sword and went towards his way. The sword he just purchased was a silver sword bathed in the blood of the ogre. The sword was longer than his upper body.
He felt light of the sun falling on his body—forcing him to walk on the path of the light. He looked above—on the fading moon.
" Oh you moon, curse me, curse me to my death, shall I be your reincarnation, bringing an end to this never-ending misery? ".
Lucien, who was surrounded by stained mountains—from between the sun was coming to shine, to force the world into the light. The autumn winds brushed his face, whispering for him to rejoice in the light—but he, who seeked the dominance over the world, walked his path of stained blood.
The world was governed by different empires—different talents. The empires got their power through talents, created by legends. Those legends often sell their talents to be rich.
Anyone, who had the potential, could create a talent and can transfer it into any weapon or use it independentaly as a spell, could even sell it in the global shop.
The mankind, when first gained consciousness, saw a transperant crimson window infront of them with emptiness.
Several night came, several monsters and several misery cames. They came to the verge of extinction but then, a legend emerged created a talent and passed it to different humans. Their dominance increased over the monsters, the legends increased among the humans and one legend with the talent of creation, created the global shop over the crimson window and completely slaughtered it's empitness.
The legend who fulfilled the emptiness of the crimson window was known by the name, Victor Gearhart.
But to Lucien, he was of no importance.
The sun shine more brightly, overwhelming the shining of the crimson moon. The creatures roaming the Earth couldn't stand against the shine of the sun and were burned to nothingness. The orange light of the sun fell on the face of the Lucien which still, had the same smile.
The stained mountains became more clear who's natural life was gone and the trees were stained with blood. The moutains were red, red in blood. The path Lucien was walking still had the crispness and the path was full red.
The stained blood was freezed and every step was breaking the frozen blood and the sound of crispness was echoing around. The silence was gone, Lucien could heard the screams of the creatures around him, screaming in pain to escape the torture of the sun.
Lucien's armor became more clear, stained with blood with the light of the sun, the fur mantle Lucien was wearing was originally white but the blood of the beings Lucien slayed, turned it red.
Lucied walked and walked and walked and now, he was climbing the stained mountain which was covering a large empire—Lucien's next destination. His whereabouts were unknown but his goal, it was to take over the world.
Lucien was silent, silent as a dead body but his body, it was moving as Lucien wanted.
Lucien was now surrounded by the blood stained nature, the blood stained trees around him, the blood stained path he was walking and the blood stained bushes covering the path and his surroundings were all shining with the gaze of the sun.
There was no flower on the path, it was like someone or something picked them up to show the ruthless side of the nature. The leaves were stained red not because of it was autumn—but because the massacre of several creatures, humans and other wildlife.
The autumn wind came and the leaves came over the face of Lucien. He remained silent because he could heard, heard something running.
The sound became more closer, closer and closer.
Lucien stopped because the stained bush infront of him started moving like it was alive, like it was a rabbit eating it's carrots while looking around for danger.
Slowly, something came out of it, a wild boar.
The boar had couple of scars on his body—scars of his battles.
Luciens unsheathe his sword—ready to cut it down.
Lucien was hungry, he had no dinner last night and no breakfast this morning but his breafast, it was right infront of him.
The boar couldn't sense the bloodlust from Lucien because there was none. His expression remained serene, like a river gliding in quiet harmony—until the moment it met the untamed fury of a descending waterfall.
His sword, even though it was stained with blood, had no bloodlust in it.
It lay in utter silence, like the hollow stillness left in the wake of a storm's dying rage—its blade, a remnant of chaos, now at rest.
The boar could feel the silence and calmness of Lucien's sword strike. The boar felt no pain, no agony, no misery but death itself.
Lucien slay down a boar with his quite beautiful sword style.
He collected some dry stained branches fallen on the ground as an aftermath of a big war, some leaves fallen due to the ruthless rule of the autumn winds and 2 stained rocks telling their mighty stories.
He sparked a flame using them and cooked the meat of the boar.
It was still morning, the winds were pleasant and the meat Lucien was eating—it was delicious in it's own sense.
After finishing, he walked down the mountain. On his way, he saw a flowing river becoming a part of a mighty waterfall.
Lucien thought, ' I have not touched water for quite some time. '.
He removed his armor and every kind of clothing from his body and entered the plunge pool created by the waterfall. He could see the mist created by the waterfall acting like it hold a mystery, the foam and bubbles in the water enjoying their own bath, the rainbow—making the view more beautiful and the raging currents, acting like a guard to protect it from the curroption of the world.
Lucien had couple of scars on his body showing his struggle for survival and his victory over his enemies.
His sword lay on the ground, while he leaned against the cold stone, his breath heavy with exhaustion.
The talent his sword contain was still unknown, showing it's importance.
" These raging currents, they can never protect this world—my goal. I will take this world and make it a divine place, fit for my survival alone. ".