Prologue
---
Conqueror of the Verse
Prologue — Mountain of Corpses
By ColdLink Writer
---
Snow fell silently over a mountain of bodies.
White flakes drifted through the night sky, landing softly on blood-soaked armor, broken weapons, and lifeless eyes that stared at nothing.
At the peak of that mountain stood a single man.
Kashihero Draven.
His breath formed slow clouds in the freezing air. His clothes were torn. His blade was cracked. Blood — not all of it his — dripped steadily from his fingertips and stained the snow beneath him.
Around him lay hundreds.
Warriors. Assassins. Mercenaries.
All dead.
He did not smile.
He did not tremble.
He simply watched.
Footsteps crunched behind him.
Light.
Familiar.
He did not turn immediately.
"I never thought it would end like this," a soft voice said.
Kashihero closed his eyes for a moment.
He knew that voice.
He had known it since childhood.
He turned slowly.
She stood several steps away, her silver cloak dusted with snow. Her blade glimmered faintly under the moonlight. Her eyes… once warm… now distant.
"I cleared the path," he said calmly. "No one is left."
She stepped closer.
Too close.
"I know."
Her voice wavered.
For the first time that night, something shifted in his chest.
A small crack in the armor around his heart.
"You said we would leave together," he continued. "No more blood. No more killing."
Her hand tightened around her blade.
"You were never meant to live, Kashihero."
The words were quiet.
But they struck harder than any weapon.
Before he could react—
Steel pierced through his chest.
The sound was dull.
Wet.
The world seemed to pause.
He looked down slowly.
Her blade had entered cleanly beneath his ribs.
Perfect angle.
No hesitation.
Snow continued to fall.
"…Why?" he asked.
There was no anger in his voice.
Only confusion.
Her eyes shimmered with something unreadable.
"Because you became too dangerous."
She pulled the blade free.
His knees weakened.
He fell backward onto the bodies he had created.
Cold seeped into his bones.
Blood spread beneath him like dark ink across white paper.
Above him, the night sky stretched endlessly.
So this is how it ends.
Not on the battlefield.
Not against an army.
But by the hand he trusted most.
Her silhouette blurred as his vision dimmed.
"Goodbye," she whispered.
Darkness swallowed him.
Silence.
Then—
A sound.
Not outside.
Inside.
A low pulse.
Ancient.
Hungry.
— Compatibility Confirmed —
His fading consciousness trembled.
— Foreign System Initializing —
Foreign?
He could not breathe.
He could not move.
But something within him… awakened.
— Carnivorous Authority Linked —
The mountain of corpses trembled.
The blood beneath him began to steam.
A black-red aura flickered faintly around his dying body.
Snow evaporated where it touched him.
— Host Vital Signs: Terminated —
A pause.
Then—
— Rebirth Protocol Activated —
His final thought was not rage.
Not hatred.
Not revenge.
It was a realization.
If the world only respects monsters—
Then I will become something worse.
Darkness consumed everything.
And somewhere far beyond that mountain…
Something opened its eyes.
---
End of Prologue.