The flickering torch flames, deep in the vast darkness, stirred an eye into awakening. Its blurred, weakened vision made it difficult to perceive the dimly lit space, where torches were mounted on rocky walls. The silence was broken by drops of water hitting metal, followed by the voice of a man cloaked in darkness; his words seemed nonsensical—yet it was merely the demonic tongue.
"It is done." — A satisfied smile spread across his face.
As he turned, the darkness somehow crept closer to the man's domain. The flames began to die out, and the few that remained revealed to the eye the severed head of the Boss at the man's feet, who now appeared hooded.
"Ta... Ta…" — The voice was faint and strained.
The hooded figure turned his attention to the voice: a man clad in armor, his body impaled by several stakes emanating darkness. These responded to the hooded man's gaze. The once-resilient armor was continuously struck by water dripping from a stalactite overhead. Its silver hue was stained by the deep red of his own blood.
"Ta... yo." — The armored man's mouth filled with a metallic taste.
"Shhh... Farewell, oh star of Demigem." — Calmly, he placed a finger before his lips.
Exhausted and drained of strength, the eye slowly closed, returning to darkness. Yet this time, it could clearly see a rocky path, upon which a wounded young man staggered. His tattered, blood-soaked clothes spoke of his condition.
"L... Li... Light." — His black eyes widened as he glimpsed a small, distant ray of sunlight.
"A survivor! Come quickly, a survivor!" — A voice cried out from beyond the cave.
"A... living person." — Tears filled his face—not of sorrow, but relief.
Time flew by like the blink of an eye since the rescue of the purple-haired, black-eyed youth. He now lay within a healing tent.
"I was rescued and brought here, but now…" — His thoughts trailed off as someone entered.
"Is the young man doing better?" — Before him stood a man in the prime of his later years. His long white hair reached down to his waist. His golden eyes seemed to glow, his skin was bronze, and he wore a white coat draped over his shoulders, accompanied by a wooden staff topped with a sphere.
"Hm? I think so?"n— The youth looked down at his hand, opening and closing his fist.
"Oops... Forgive me for the oversight."
"Oversight? What oversight?" — The elder's brief phrase triggered a storm of thoughts in the youth's mind.
"The oversight of not introducing myself."
"Maybe you did?" — His voice was low and uncertain.
"My name is Thijou Levard… One of the elders and founders of this village called Demigem."
"Demigem?"
"But now that I've introduced myself, may I know your name?"
"My name? I'm…" — Confusion clouded his expression. He tried in vain to remember. In that moment, he realized—he couldn't recall anything before waking in the cave.
"My deepest apologies. What happened in the dungeon must have been traumatic."
"It's not that, I… I just don't remember." — Just as he spoke, the tent flaps opened once more.
"Excuse me, I've brought the patient's meal." — A young woman with pink hair and golden eyes entered. Her smooth bronze skin was adorned by simple clothes with green accents.
"All right, Rosary." — The casual way the elder addressed her revealed a close bond.
She set the food beside the bed and returned to the man's side.
"Grandpa, you need to be more careful." — She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow at him.
"Hm? What are you talking about, Rosary?"
"Don't pretend you don't know! What if the patient were contagious? You're not… like you used to be." — She paused briefly at the end of her words.
"Rosary? Wasn't she the one who came in after I was brought here?" — The youth stared at the old man and his granddaughter.
"Are you all right?" — Rosary suddenly turned to him; her golden gaze was mesmerizing.
"Hm? Me? I guess so?" — The sudden shift in conversation caught him off guard.
In his moment of distraction, the old man playfully tapped his head—not hard, but enough to surprise the young man.
"Why'd you do that, Grandpa?" — He asked, rubbing the spot.
"Rosary, enough. You always act like this when you're…" — At that moment, the young man redirected the focus.
"Excuse me, but since I can't remember my name, could it be listed among the members of the Holy Force?"
"Holy Force?"
"The clothes you're wearing belong to the Holy Force of Front."
"Ah… My apologies. I woke up in the dungeon without clothes and claimed these."
"I see. Then it's best you rest. Come, Rosary." — The two exited the tent, leaving the young man alone again. He decided to follow the elder's advice and rest.