The battle between humans and demons is never-ending. There were huge battles that took place when the demons attacked in large numbers, and in the end the humans suffered heavy losses.
Thick smoke caused by falling debris filled the room. There, I lay limp, my face covered in wounds with blood flowing from the corners of my lips.
I was called the strongest warrior, the king of the human army, but now I was on the verge of death. I felt undeserving of that title.
In the war, I killed so many seven-motif demons, it was the strongest demon level. Yet within this room, called the ancient pillar, there was an eight-motif demon standing before me. I had never expected at all that there was an eight-motif demon with strength far surpassing that of a seven-motif demon.
I tried to get up with what little strength I had left. So far, we humans haven't fully understood the power of demons. This defeat is my fault for not being able to fulfill my responsibilities as a leader.
With a blank stare, the demon looked at me, like it was planning something. My breath caught in my throat, what did he want to do?
Suddenly the demon flapped its wings with great force, creating a wave of wind that made my body pushed along with the rock I was leaning on.
My consciousness began to slowly fade, its gaze was intense, preparing to kill me. Now, everything was pitch black. So this is death.
---
"ATTENTION!" A dashing shout echoed in the room, making some of the soldiers startle. So was I.
Eh? Where is this? My shocked expression was obvious. I tried to digest what was happening right now. Am I dreaming? But this is too real, what the hell.
I re-confirmed that this was just a dream by fumbling around, and patting my face. This isn't my face! What happened to my cool, charismatic face? Who is this? .....I transferred to the body of a man with an innocent face and a thin, untrained body.
Currently in the Kalelous region, in the training room. The soldiers were lined up with their hands behind their backs. In front of them, stood a dashing figure with a stern face, he was the third commander of the Kalelous region, Hendrick.
"You must keep this in your heads! What does it mean to be a warrior? Soldiers represent protection and hope!" His voice was firm, the room filled with metal materials added to the volume of his voice.
In the year 3050, six great ancient pillars suddenly appeared, and caused a great disaster to the planet. Creatures called demons began to emerge from the pillars, and slaughtered humanity.
The humans who experienced this incredible cruelty tried various ways to fight back but in vain. After many experiments, humans finally found a feasible method to fight demons, namely transplanted armor.
Using the inner core that exists in demons, allows humans to undergo a synthesis that makes human strength comparable to the demons.
Sixty years ago, the strongest warrior and king of humans, Rekt, led all the warriors in the world against the strongest demon wave in history.
The great battle lasted for weeks, throwing the world into chaos and gloom. But in the end, the humans managed to fend off the wave of demons and caused great damage to them. That led to the era of development we are in today, sixty years later.
Hearing Hendrick's explanation made me even more surprised. Sixty years? Is this transmigration sixty years later?
But at the same time, we forever lost many strong and noble warriors. One of them was Rekt. He lost his life in the middle of a battle against many of the highest level seven motif demons.
The great battle that ensued paved the way for a new era and determination, later historically known as the battle of dawn.
"We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them. Without soldiers, there would be no life at home. Soldiers are the noblest identity that represents protection and hope. Do you now understand what it means to be a soldier?" His voice was firmly encouraging.
"We understand commander!" They replied with burning enthusiasm.
"That's not true." I tried to refute the story Hendrick had told me, that the strongest demon level was not a seven-motif but an eight-motif. "Demon…with wings."
Hearing my words, Hendrick reacted quickly and headed towards me. "Don't you understand yet? What's your name?" His gaze was full of an oppressive aura.
"I…"
Do I have to declare myself as Rekt? Would they believe that I, Rekt, had transmigrated sixty years later into the body of this Boy?
"You truly disgrace the name of honor, you of the same variety as our great warrior… Rekt?"
Hendrick gripped my shoulders firmly. "Disgraceful."
Suddenly he punched me hard in the face, sending me flying. But my body was caught by the soldier standing behind me. The attack made blood flow from the corner of my lips.
Damn it… this body is useless, it can't even react to a punch of such a low level…. And it shares the same name as me.
"Hmph, I'll keep a closer eye on you during the warrior evaluation."
Hendrick left me, and moved towards the exit.
"Did you all hear me?"
"Yes commander."
"Move to the evaluation field. Next up is…. Physical evaluation."