I Guard The Book That Slays Gods

He floated in the ocean, waves splashing against his face while his legs kicked beneath the surface and his hands cut through the water, swimming wherever the current and wind carried him.

Raiden's mind had gone rigid, oblivious to the danger and unable to grasp the exhaustion weighing down his body, pushing through the fatigue as he swam like a mindless puppet.

He was only human, but if he could think and reason in his current condition, he'd be bound to question even that fundamental fact.

The ocean bounced him relentlessly up and down, coldness surging through his bones as survival instincts alone forced him to snatch breaths whenever the blue expanse threatened to swallow him whole.

Night stretched into morning, and still he swam without rest. His body remained completely submerged, only his head breaking the surface to reveal fluffy white hair that glowed with ethereal light, and the dragon wing-like marks of dark lightning that traced across his face like a shadowy skeletal mask. These features alone made him barely recognizable as human.

The morning dragged endlessly into the afternoon, his body thoroughly drenched and turned a sickly pale, the coldness eating him alive as his teeth chattered frantically, bouncing against each other in violent shivers.

He had never believed in gods or changing fates, but his journey would have deeply unsettled his mind if he could truly comprehend it. Everything remained unnaturally peaceful, as if even the sea creatures instinctively feared what he had become.

But that was only the start of his alien luck. As the afternoon melted into evening, his body bruised and unresponsive from relentless swimming, he spotted buildings stretching across a distant city's shore.

His eyes widened in realization, yet he felt no joy or relief—if anything, the sight brought him an odd sense of calm.

Without a moment's hesitation, he ceased his struggle against the water and surrendered to the sea, floating weightlessly as his white hair drifted around him like fragments of cloud scattered on the ocean's surface. The tide slowly drew him toward shore.

He had descended into the depths of death, despair, and pain. Most of it was inflicted by his own desires; the rest was brought on by his brother's influence. All of it had been in the service of one goal: avenging his brother. And now he sought happiness?

This was his hell; restraints he had fought to free from, but now lacked the urge and even the capacity to do so. What happiness was he seeking? Could there even be another purpose for the person who had killed his very own brother twice?

He found himself lost in his abyss more and more by each second, and maybe that's what he wanted: to be free from guilt, duty and responsibility, and maybe to feel as though he was stained in blood he couldn't erase. Just maybe… he was human after all.

Before long, as the moon hung over the horizon, its ethereal light illuminating the dark marks on his body and setting his white hair aglow, the sea finally carried him to shore.

Yet he lay unmoving on the rocky ground, staring up at the sky while water pounded down on him. His body ached all over, but physical pain wasn't what kept him frozen there. It was something he couldn't grasp—something about that dark sky above.

Yet despite his empty mind and emotionless state, his senses remained sharp enough to detect even the smallest changes around him. Still, he felt nothing.

Buildings surrounded him—his eyes weren't deceiving him about that—but the place was unnervingly quiet for somewhere that should have been bustling with life.

After a moment, hearing only the whisper of cold wind, he jumped to his feet. His sword materialized in his hand without conscious thought, and he found himself staring at the weapon in bewilderment. The confusion that had filled his mind now focused entirely on the blade, yet he had no idea why he'd summoned it.

Two dozen sand-colored houses stretched before him, most with open shops displaying their wares. Vegetables, fruits, and other perishables reeked in the air, decomposing on abandoned counters with not a soul to be seen.

Raiden's gaze drifted from his sword to the horizon. Though he couldn't be sure, it was clear he'd been transported to the Kingdom of Noor.

If he were capable of rational thought, the prospect of trudging through deserts that burned by day and froze by night would have filled him with dread. But this hollow version of himself felt nothing, and Raiden started walking toward the street ahead.

Even as he walked for what felt like miles, he saw no one—only traces that people had been there before. But it didn't matter to him. He couldn't think clearly anymore, yet somehow he knew this wretched place would never bring him happiness.

Yet he remained hypervigilant despite being robbed of his conscious self. His awareness darted everywhere, catching every minute shift in his surroundings.

But only a short way into his walk, he stopped and looked back. He could sense auras drawing near.

His danger detection remained silent, meaning they posed no threat. And even if they did, with the calm settling in Raiden's chest and his growing sense of purpose and peace, he probably wouldn't have cared.

He didn't stand there much longer before walking away. His shadowy sword remained in his grip as his white hair moved with the breeze, the dark marks coiling around his hands and neck like snakes, and the chain-like tattoos across his scarred torso lending him a defiant look.

The kingdom of Noor was infamous for its brutal and lawless nature. Among the four kingdoms, it had the largest territory but lacked water and vegetation.

Worse still, notorious criminals ruled the land more than the King did. What Raiden had stumbled into was entirely typical—likely they faced attacks most nights. It barely registered his interest.

It wasn't long before he'd cleared the town's outskirts and was walking directly into the desert expanse. He had no clear direction, but maybe the desert would offer him something meaningful.