CHAPTER 1
...
The whole sky was painted red.
A man stood alone at the center of the battlefield. His deep ashen-silver hair flowed down to his shoulders, matted with blood and dust. Around him, countless bodies lay scattered—friend and foe alike, piled without distinction.
The land was completely ruined.
Massive craters, some over fifty meters deep and nearly a hundred meters wide, scarred the battlefield. Smaller ones surrounded them, carved by residual sword intent and forbidden techniques. The ground no longer resembled earth—it looked as if the world itself had been torn apart and discarded.
Near a broken wall, a woman sat on the ground, barely conscious. She tried to keep herself upright by leaning against the rubble. A massive hole had been torn through the left side of her body. Blood soaked the stone beneath her, yet the wound refused to close.
It was a miracle she was still alive.
She was known across the continent as the Queen of the Forbidden Name, one of the most powerful existences to ever walk this world.
The one who had reduced her to this state was Aryas von Bloodwall—patriarch and leader of the most powerful sword clan in the empire.
Aryas himself was heavily injured. A deep wound on his head continued to bleed, and his vision blurred.
"Huu…"
His head spun.
Why am I seeing unfamiliar things?
For a brief moment, the battlefield overlapped with strange images—tall buildings made of glass and steel, metal roads stretching endlessly, lights floating through the air.
A flying car? What the hell…
The vision vanished as suddenly as it appeared.
Aryas steadied himself and looked at the woman again. The longer he stared at her, the stronger the feeling became.
I've seen her before.
Not in this world.
In a novel.
"…Haaa… what was the name again," he muttered. "Tch. Whatever."
Then the memory aligned.
Raven of the Crimson.
One of the most important off-scene figures in the story. A legendary existence whose death was barely described. Later, it was revealed that after her death, she cast a curse on the Sword Sovereign—a curse that caused his unexplained death sometime after the battle.
Aryas looked at her.
"…Raven."
Her body trembled.
She raised her head sharply, staring at him with disbelief.
"How… how do you know my name?" she asked. Her voice was weak, yet sharp.
"You will die soon," Aryas said calmly. "But I can save you."
She let out a hoarse, broken laugh.
"Save me?" she said mockingly. "You are the one who attacked our sacred place. Because of you, I lost everyone I loved."
Her eyes burned with hatred.
"I would rather die than be saved by the one who slaughtered my people," she said. "What irony. The killer now wants to save me."
Aryas remained silent.
"If you die now," he said after a moment, "you will never be able to save the remaining people."
Her breath froze.
"Mostly children. Women," he continued. "You know what will happen to them if you're gone."
Her fingers clenched against the stone.
"…They'll be hunted," she whispered. "Enslaved."
She looked at him.
"And if I live, it will be because of you."
Silence stretched between them.
Then she asked quietly, "Why do you want to save me?"
Time passed.
Aryas finally answered.
"Because I want to."
She scoffed weakly.
"Then how are you going to save me?" she said in a sarcastic tone. "You know healing magic doesn't work on these wounds. Your sword winds are still destroying my body."
"I know," Aryas replied.
"I'm not going to heal you."
She frowned.
"The damage isn't just physical," he continued. "Your soul is damaged."
"To fix it," Aryas said, "I'll use a soul-bond contract."
Her eyes widened.
"Our souls will be connected," he said. "The sword wind inside you will stabilize. Your body and soul will heal over time."
She understood what that meant.
"And my people?" she asked. "The empire considers them enemies."
"I will protect them," Aryas said. "They will be placed under my authority. Anyone who harms them answers to the Bloodwall Sword Clan."
She laughed softly.
"You're a fool."
"Maybe," Aryas said.
She closed her eyes.
"…Then do it properly," she said. "Don't look away."
---
Raven's POV
Raven's vision blurred.
Not from pain—she had long learned how to endure that—but from the memories his words dragged back to the surface.
Children.
The ones she had forced into the underground passages when the sanctum fell. Too young to fight. Too young to understand why the sky had burned.
She had ordered the gates sealed herself.
At the time, she had believed she would return.
Her fingers curled weakly against the broken stone.
If I die…
She knew what would follow.
She had seen it happen to other fallen lineages. Survivors hunted down in the name of "cleansing." Children branded as resources. Women sold, experimented on, or erased quietly so no bloodline could ever rise again.
The empire called it stability.
She called it extinction.
Her chest tightened.
She wanted to spit at him. To laugh again. To tell him that no promise made by a butcher was worth hearing.
And yet—
He hadn't lied.
That was what unsettled her most.
He hadn't justified the massacre. Hadn't spoken of necessity or righteousness. He simply stated what would happen if she died, as if it were a law of the world.
Because it was.
Her gaze drifted to the sword planted in the ground between them.
Bloodwall.
That name alone carried weight. A clan that stood above empires, whose patriarchs were allowed to act without permission. If anyone could shield what remained of her people…
Damn you…
Her hatred burned just as fiercely as before.
But now it was tangled with fear.
Not for herself.
For those she had left behind.
When she asked him why he wanted to save her, she had expected a lie. A justification. Some twisted sense of honor.
Instead, he gave her nothing.
Because I want to.
No pride. No righteousness.
Just choice.
That frightened her more than hatred ever could.
When he spoke of the soul-bond, every instinct in her screamed rejection. Binding herself to her enemy meant surrendering the last illusion of freedom she possessed.
But if she refused—
Her soul was already unraveling.
She could feel it, like sand slipping through cracks that would never close.
If I die… they die with me.
Her jaw tightened.
So be it.
If survival required binding her fate to the man who destroyed her world—
Then she would endure.
Better to live and hate him.
Than die and abandon them.
She opened her eyes.
....
The screams, the clashing steel, the collapsing earth—everything had ended. What remained was only the scent of blood and scorched land.
Raven was still conscious.
Barely.
Her body felt distant, as if it no longer fully belonged to her. Pain existed, but it was muted, drowned beneath something heavier—an unfamiliar stillness pressing against her soul.
Footsteps approached.
Slow. Measured.
She lifted her eyes and saw Aryas standing before her.
"You—" her voice came out hoarse. "What are you doing?"
He didn't answer.
Aryas knelt in front of her and raised his hand.
Before she could react, his palm pressed against her chest—right where her heart resided.
Her eyes widened instantly.
She glared at him, fury flashing through exhaustion.
"You… what—what are you doing, Aryas?"
Still, he said nothing.
His hand remained there.
Firm. Steady.
Not invading. Not trembling.
Seconds passed.
Then a minute.
Then another.
The silence stretched unnaturally long, broken only by the distant wind brushing through the ruined land.
Raven clenched her teeth.
Her instincts screamed at her to strike him away, but her body refused to move. Whatever strength she had left was useless against the state she was in.
Five minutes passed.
Then—
Something changed.
The tearing sensation inside her chest slowed.
The invisible blades that had been ripping through her soul—Aryas's lingering sword winds—no longer tore at her recklessly. Their movement softened, their destructive intent fading into something controlled.
Warmth spread from his hand.
Not physical heat.
Something deeper.
It reached her core, flowing through fractures she hadn't even realized existed. The sharp agony that had accompanied every breath dulled, replaced by a strange sense of stability.
Her breathing steadied.
Her soul… stopped breaking apart.
Raven's glare weakened, disbelief replacing rage.
"…My soul," she whispered. "It's not—"
She swallowed.
"It's not getting injured anymore."
Aryas finally spoke.
"It's stabilized."
Her eyes trembled as she looked at his hand, then slowly lifted her gaze to his face.
"You really did it," she murmured. "A soul-bond…"
"Yes," he replied. "It has begun."
She laughed weakly.
"You're insane."
"Maybe."
The warmth continued to spread, stitching together damage that should have been irreversible. The hole in her body remained, but it no longer felt like a death sentence. For the first time since the battle, survival felt… possible.
Then Aryas's breath hitched.
Raven noticed it instantly.
Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.
"…You're paying the price," she said quietly.
"The damage had to go somewhere," Aryas replied. "Until your soul fully adapts, part of it will pass through me."
Her expression hardened.
"You're binding yourself to an enemy."
"I made a choice."
She closed her eyes for a moment.
When she opened them again, her voice was steady.
"Then hear this," she said. "If you betray my people—if even one child suffers because of this bond—I will curse you beyond death."
Aryas met her gaze without hesitation.
"I expect nothing less."
The ground beneath them trembled slightly.
A contract forged not by law, not by gods—but by will.
Raven felt it.
A presence now existed beside her soul.
Not ownership.
Not control.
Connection.
...
..
.