Eran said with determination, "I've realized that to fulfill my dream, I must first become strong."
Haruki nodded slightly. "Then be ready tomorrow morning—we're leaving for somewhere important. Go eat and get some rest."
No one said anything after that. Quietly, everyone went their own way.
The next morning, with the first rays of the sun piercing through the trees, the three of them left the house and began their journey. As they made their way through the forest, Yakushi glanced at Eran and asked, "Why are you bringing this child with us? There could be danger where we're going."
Haruki replied without hesitation, "Don't worry about him. He may be more useful than you think."
After crossing the black mountain, they arrived at a village nestled in a hidden valley. As they walked in, the villagers stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening in shock and awe. Whispers spread quickly:
"Is that… him?"
"He's the same one from the statue in the center of the village!"
Eran looked around, confused, as elderly villagers stepped forward and bowed deeply to Haruki, showing him immense respect—almost as if they were greeting a legendary figure.
Haruki seemed puzzled too, until he spotted a towering golden statue up ahead. As they approached it, Eran stared in amazement. The statue was of Haruki himself, proud and noble in its design.
At the base of the statue, engraved in bold letters, were the words:
"The Maker of the Village."
There was an old house nearby—its wooden frame weathered, walls cracked, and part of its roof caved in. Haruki stopped abruptly at the sight of it.
"You two wait here," he said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of emotion. Without another word, he stepped inside the house.
Eran watched him go, puzzled, then turned to Yakushi. "What is this place? Why is everyone treating him like a legend?"
Yakushi's eyes softened with respect as he looked toward the crumbling house. "Thirty years ago, when demons ravaged the lands and ordinary people fled for their lives, it was Haruki who stood tall. He helped those refugees—people with no homes, no food, and no hope—and built this very village. This place, known today as the Land of Wisdom, exists because of him."
Eran's eyes widened in awe as Yakushi continued, "He stayed here and protected the village himself for some time. But eventually, he entrusted its safety to a group called The Seven Angels and returned to his own village."
Eran stepped back slightly, overwhelmed. "The Seven Angels? Who are they?"
Yakushi looked at him and smiled faintly. "Since Haruki will take a while, I'll tell you their story…"
Flashback Begins
Thirty years ago, a brutal war broke out between two powerful clans—the Origami Clan and the Vermamillion Clan. Haruki and Yuki, caught in the middle of the conflict, were exiled from their village, marked as outcasts despite their innocence.
At that time, there existed an organization known as Kshatra—a united front formed by both clans to protect ordinary people from demonic forces. Kshatra was a symbol of hope and balance. But when its leader died unexpectedly, the organization crumbled. Distrust between the clans deepened, and what was once a beacon of protection quickly fell into ruin.
It was during this chaos that the demons attacked.
Villages were set ablaze. Screams echoed through the skies as people ran for their lives. And as if fate wished to torment the land further, the Black Mountain—a dormant volcano—suddenly erupted.
The eruption severed the land.
To the east, countless innocent people were trapped, their only hope of survival lying in the west, where a few surviving strongholds still resisted demonic invasions. The desperate masses attempted to flee, hoping to reach safety.
At that time, Haruki, unaware of the full scale of destruction, was making his way toward the east. As he crossed the erupting volcano, braving the heat and the ash-filled skies, he came upon something extraordinary.
At the peak of the Black Mountain, surrounded by fire and brimstone, lay seven enormous eggs, each pulsing with strange energy.
There was a crystal wall surrounding the seven massive eggs—fractured, shimmering, and broken in several places. It looked as though it had once served as a protective barrier, now shattered by either time or force.
Haruki stepped closer, his boots crunching over scattered shards of glowing crystal. He had never seen anything like it before. The eggs were enormous, each one pulsating faintly with a strange, warm energy—like something alive was sleeping within.
As he stood there, caught in a moment of awe and confusion, a sudden and horrifying sound broke his focus.
Screams.
Countless screams—echoing from the eastern side of the volcano.
Without a second thought, Haruki turned and ran toward the cries. He leapt over rocks and lava-cracked ground, the wind howling with ash. As he crossed the edge of the volcano, he saw them—
Demons.
Towering, savage, and relentless—ripping through the crowd of helpless villagers. Blood soaked the earth. Parents clutched their children. The sky turned crimson with smoke and terror.
Haruki's eyes narrowed.