Kaela had a sweet dream.

  In it, she was jailed Nether’s infamous prison, bound to spend the rest of her days rotting away in solitude and cruel torture.

  However, her days in jail weren’t nearly as bad as she’d expected; in fact, she could confidently say they were some of the most fun few weeks of her life.

  She met a peculiar man named Ori… Well, ‘man’ might’ve been the wrong word to use here, as he was clearly inhuman in every way imaginable - from appearance to his character.

  Yeah, his character was downright psychotic.

  But enough about that.

  Somehow, Kaela ended up growing closer with Ori. They shared jokes, complained about their terrible lives, and made fun of each other relentlessly.

  Really, it was hard to find a more fitting person to be friends with for someone like Kaela, who herself had several screws loose.

  It was no wonder, then, that they ended up bonding very closely, even if their time together was short.

  Simply put, Kaela - for the very first time in her life - found someone she could genuinely call her friend.

  Things went downhill very quickly, though; Malrik did everything in his power to ensure Ori’s downfall.

  Stranger yet - Ori seemed to welcome it.

  She did learn the reason, though only eventually.

  It turned out that Ori had been executing a plan all along.

  And, when he was finally ready, he broke free of his constraints.

  Then…

  What happened next, exactly..?

  Ah, right.

  They broke out the Royal Detention.

  Broke out, wreaked havoc, and spilled blood.

  Even that was fun.

  But things didn’t play out as they’d hoped. Not long into the battle, a fearsome man made his presence be known.

  Still, neither Kaela nor Ori were about to give up.

  Ori came up with a ridiculous idea, and somehow convinced Kaela to take part in it.

  …However, she failed. During the most crucial moment, Kaela had grown exhausted.

  Yet, even that was not the end of her road:

  Miraculously, someone - something - entirely unexpected had come to her rescue.

  A centipede shaped demonic beast helped her escape, and together they drew the demon wave over to the king’s position.

  There, she was met with a heart jerking sight; Ori was disheveled beyond words, and the king seemed ready to finish him off.

  In a split second decision, Kaela and the friendly demonic beast threw their bodies at the king, just barely saving Ori as a result.

  Also as a result came a new issue:

  Kaela’s body was utterly wrecked, while the centipede-like beast was outright killed.

  But that was alright.

  She had achieved her goal, and Ori would take things from there.

  He promised that much, after all.

  ”If I planned on dying, you can bet your ass that I’ll be taking you straight to hell with me.”

  Those were the very words he uttered with smug smile, as if bragging.

  So why, then…

  Kaela felt her blood boil in a quiet rage.

  Why did you break the promise, ya dipshit…

  The fucker went and got himself killed.

  The end. That was all.

  Nether’s King unleashed a devastating attack, turning Ori into mere ashes.

  How did Kaela survive, in this situation?

  The reason made her want to bite her tongue off in frustration:

  I was saved once again.

  Every time, over the few weeks spent within the Royal Detention, she’d been saved over and over and over again.

  First, by Ori’s hands; the jail escape.

  Second, by the friendly demonic beast; the demon wave escape.

  And third, by a party of three unfamiliar faces; the escape from Nether’s King.

  Kaela - who’d proudly claimed that she wasn’t some “damsel in distress”. That Kaela ended up in the very position she so detested.

  And the worst part?

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  Now, she couldn’t ever pay back for all the help she received.

  Never.

  The friendly beast was dead; Ori was dead; the adventurers had departed on a distant journey.

  A ridiculous thought crossed her mind:

  A sweet dream, was it? Hah! What a fucking joke.

  No - these were haunting memories.

  A recollection of the most traumatic month of her life, riddled with endless self deprecation and sorrow.

  But the world didn’t care for her regrets. When morning came, the sun rose.

  The sun rose, and the dead remained dead.

  That was an unchanging law of the world - one Kaela couldn’t rewrite no matter how much strength she amassed.

  And so, her goalpost shifted.

  It was impossible to bring the dead back to life, yes.

  But the living remained alive, too.

  If nothing else, Kaela wished to change that.

  The King of Nether. True name - Vaynar Nether.

  The one responsible for the death of Kaela’s only friend, and for the life of his rotten son, Malik.

  And, most importantly…

  The one who will die by my hands.

  No matter what, I will kill that mothefucker.

  Ori promised to take Kaela down into hell either him, didn’t he?

  Perhaps this wasn’t the method he intended, but it seemed like his promise was going to be kept, in the end.

  Because, in due time, Kaela will follow him there on her own accord - one corpse at a time.

  *Creak*

  The door to Kaela’s room opened, a pair of maids rushing in:

  ”Lady Kaela, please..! If you don’t dress up right now, you’ll be late for-“

  ”…Hmm?”

  However, they paused in their tracks when their eyes landed on Kaela; she was already awake, sitting up in her bed with a chillingly sinister, murderous smile.

  When she hummed at them in a questioning tone, the maids - still taken aback - quickly recouped and rushed to her side with all sorts of makeup and dressed at the ready.

  Suddenly, Kaela realized what sort of face she was making and fixed her expression.

  Despite the friendly smile, though, her thoughts remained dark.

  Today marked the first step in her plan for revenge, constructed with mind numbing meticulousness.

  Wait for me, my friend. I’ll drag a few more rotten bastards down with us, to make our sinners’ reunion real damn grand. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?

  ***

  A messy office. That - or a madman’s hideout.

  It was difficult to describe the room’s interior with just a few words, but it wasn’t like I could give the slightest of shits about the way it looked.

  The curtains were drawn close, barely any sunlight seeping inside.

  The walls were lined with what must’ve been oil lamps at one point; they were completely shattered now, and only the metallic mounts hinted at the lamps’ presence, some time in the past.

  Didn’t matter to me, though, as I could seen in the dark just fine.

  Before me, on a dusty desk, lay a thick book full of scratchy handwriting.

  A steel spike tipped my index finger; I dipped it in a small vial of ink, making sure not to get too much ink on my finger as that would create unnecessary splotches, and returned to writing more notes.

  The leather book had no cover, but starting from the first page and down to the midpoint, the contents were easy to discern.

  It was a timeline of my failures.

  I meticulously compiled all bits of knowledge I possessed - with the starting point being my Royal Detention imprisonment.

  Chapter one was dedicated to Malrik’s exact martial realm, and the predicted stage of demonic corruption.

  He was also my fist target on the list of people that had to die, no matter what.

  Chapter two, I dedicated to the King of Nether. His true name - Vaynar - as well as a rough approximation of his power level were both documented. Along with that, I’d also jotted down his daily schedule, Nether’s global plans for the near future, and a plethora of theories regarding his weaknesses and strengths.

  Naturally, I planned to kill him second.

  The next few chapters were messy, handwriting packed with emotions and occasional unintelligible scribbles; a clear display of my mental state as of the time of writing them.

  There, I detailed my own survival:

  The time I spent in jail, the failed escape attempt, and the eventual defeat by Vaynar’s hands.

  And, most of all…

  The way everything crumbled.

  Sepulcher had died. Kaela, too.

  I, on the other hand, managed to survive the only way I knew how.

  Just like I’d done in the past; I ran.

  I ran for my life, leaving everyone behind.

  Vaynar couldn’t have know of my survival, either, as he’d obliterated everything very thoroughly.

  My escape through the ground was frantic but silent, leaving no traces behind.

  Kaela, however… Was caught in the crossfire.

  Many pages were dedicated to theorizing how she might’ve survived, but every theory quickly devolved into delusional speculations.

  So, while it did take me a long time - I eventually came to terms with it.

  Kaela is dead. End of the line.

  Currently, I was jotting down a new plan. One that would let me take down Vaynar Nether without a shadow of a doubt, along with his hateful son.

  It was nearing completion, too. Now, all that was left was raising my personal strength.

  Though I had many ideas for how I could go about growing stronger, my thoughts kept shifting in the wrong direction.

  For some reason, my mind today was especially chaotic - I couldn’t stop thinking in circles, all of it leading to unbearable memories.

  Memories of how I’d inadvertently, foolishly lead Kaela to her death:

  Just like back in the days, when I ran away from my village - only to find it utterly destroyed once I returned.

  The same story.

  Reslly, it was so damn foolish.

  I’d vowed to myself - many times in fact - to avoid getting close with another living being again.

  I’m a Threadripper. A cursed being, fated to bring the lives of those I held dear to ruin.

  But I didn’t follow my own words.

  The result..?

  Kaela died. Because of me, no less.

  I felt my fingertips turn tingly, heart constricting uncomfortably, and suddenly stopped writing.

  Looking down, I realized my hands were shaking, and the handwriting had become completely unreadable.

  ”Let’s stop for today.”

  *Thunk*

  I abruptly shut the book and stood up.

  A curtain fluttered due to a small gust of wind, letting a few rays of sunlight through.

  With the room now lit up, a mirror I’d moved over into a corner came into view.

  I stared at the reflection silently. In turn, the visage of a young man with dead, lightless eyes started back.

  ”Tch.”

  The reflection frowned at its own hideous appearance, before suddenly throwing out a fist.

  *Crack!*

  Following the sound of broken glass, a bunch of shards - each reflecting a different angle of a disheveled Threadripper - carpeted the floor.

  “What should I eat today, I wonder?”

  After asking that question, directed at nobody in particular, I morphed my body into something closer resembling a regular human to avoid drawing unnecessary attention.

  Finally, I draped a black cloak with oversized sleeves over myself, not forgetting to hide the book within a concealed compartment before leaving.

  “There were rumors of some Ashen Wolves appearing beneath that one ‘M’ shaped mountain, right? It’s been a while since I’ve eaten any - might as well pay them a visit.”

  Talking to myself in a lighthearted manner, yet in a voice lacking any trace of that light tone, I left my lodging.

  Something annoying grazed my senses, tempting me to glance backwards.

  But, I held back:

  Better pretend I don’t sense them, for now. They’ll show themselves in due time, anyways.

  ***

  Following their unit leader’s silent hand gesture, four men nodded and quickly dispersed.

  *Tzzt*

  Just then, a quiet buzz echoed in the heads of all five of them - a sixth person, apparently a sorcerer, had establish a mental link with the unit:

  ”The target is departing. It seems he’s planning on entering a secluded zone.”

  ”How should we proceed?”

  “Keep doing what you’ve been doing thus far. The goal remains unchanged; just make sure to keep your distance… If he is one of ‘them’, his senses could be sharp enough to catch even you lot.”

  ”I highly doubt it, but… Understood. We’ll tail from a distance.”

  ”Good.”

  *Tzzt*

  With their discussion finished, the mental link was cut off - the sorcerer’s presence vanished with it, leaving the until of five to carry out the mission.

  The target was a gloomy young man, suspected to have past affiliations with their ‘Princess’.

  The stealth unit’s members, with their presences all but erased, began noiselessly following Ori’s tail.