CHAPTER 1:

The sun bathed the grassy knolls of the crimson valley in brilliant light. A river of emerald green meandered across the fields and slopes. Specks of sunlight danced on the water's surface, glistening in the golden rays. The valley was surrounded by colossal peaks, their crystalline snow crowning their summits. Granite and gravel lined the valley's sides, fortifying the rugged earth beneath. At the valley's heart, along the riverbanks, nestled a quaint village. Its homes were crafted from hand-fashioned clay, adorned with cinnamon birch bark roofs. Each dwelling bore meticulous attention to detail, from the elegant window arches to the subtle foundation slant. Houses sprawled across the valley, interconnected by a cobblestone and ivory path. Beyond the village lay the crimson forest, a menacing assembly of blazing red foliage atop a silvered woodland—a place of eerie allure.

On the outskirts of the village, nestled right at the edge of the crimson forest, stood a man. His hair, glossy gray, bore the testament of time, and wrinkles freckled his weathered face. Although youth had long abandoned him, his shoulders still held a proud posture, and his back remained resolute. He wore the weight of age gracefully, a perplexing site of aged youth. Beside him, leaning gently on his thigh, stood a small boy with jet-black hair that curled softly in front of his heterochromic eyes. One eye radiated amber, with a vertical slit in the center, while the other was a deep charcoal gray. The child appeared frail, mostly composed of slender bones, with a delicate layer of fat protecting his copper-toned skin. The man's hand rested atop the boy's hair, offering an affectionate pat as he spoke, “Isn't it beautiful, Grey?”

The boy gazed up, locking eyes with the man beside him, completely captivated. "It's awesome, Grandpa. Can you tell me more about the valley?"

The man smiled, withdrawing his hand from Grey's head. He lightly stroked the stubble on his chin and chuckled softly to himself. "What would you like to know?"

Excitedly, the boy raised a finger, pointing toward the origin of the river coursing through the valley. His small finger extended toward a distant mountaintop, its peak veiled by the ethereal mist of the clouds.

"Hmm," the man mused, his gaze fixed on the distant peak. He bent his knees, bringing himself to eye level with his grandson. "Long ago, nearly a century in the past, a magnificent tale unfolded in this valley. It revolved around the origin of the mystic Rhine." He gestured toward the cloud-shrouded summit. "You see, there was once a great beast that called this valley home—a serpent of extraordinary proportions. Its lair was there." He pointed to the concealed peak. "Now, many years ago, a weary adventurer, seeking a place to settle, embarked on a journey through this very land. But this was no ordinary traveler; he was the stuff of legends, known throughout the world as a formidable force. He carried many names, but most knew him as The Ravaging Demon."

Grey pursed his lips, his eyes filled with questions as he interrupted his grandfather, "Wait. Isn't that-"

His grandfather gently placed a finger on the boy's lips, silencing him. "There's something you must understand, my boy. Before the mystic Rhine was formed, the Crimson Valley was a desolate and unforgiving place, a land of ash and fire."

"I don't understand," Grey mused, running his fingers through the lush green grass. It was difficult to fathom that the fertile land of the valley had once been a barren expanse of volcanic ash.

"One day, as the daring journeyman ventured through the Crimson Valley, he heard the thunderous roar of the beast. Fueled by an insatiable thirst for adventure, he followed the source of the sound. Scaling that treacherous mountain, he battled falling boulders and clung to the crags when the winds threatened to sweep him away. Miraculously, he reached a colossal cavern. Within the cavern's heart, the journeyman confronted a beast so formidable that the mere sight of it would have struck terror into the heart of an ordinary man. An immense, silvery serpent coiled within the barren rocky confines of the cave. Its scales gleamed with an enchanting emerald green, capturing fragments of light that danced upon its skin. Instead of eyes, it possessed large amber slits, and its ferocious fangs jutted out from its monstrous maw. As the Ravaging Demon drew near, the beast stirred from its slumber!" 

Grey tensed up, his body coiling around itself, the hairs on his neck standing on end. "Its colossal body loomed over the brave wanderer, its fangs menacingly long and razor-sharp. Green venom oozed from its lethal jaws, forming a toxic pool on the cavern's rocky floor. The monstrous serpent gradually uncoiled its scaly form, rising high above the Ravaging Demon. With a deafening roar, the two adversaries collided. The serpent lunged toward the intrepid adventurer, its fangs gleaming with deadly intent. But the fearless wanderer, undaunted by the imminent peril, seized the serpent's jaws with his bare hands and fought back with unmatched courage. The cavern bore witness to their epic struggle as they rolled and tumbled, delivering powerful blows upon one another. Rubble and stone were strewn about, wreaking havoc within the cavern's confines. When the dust had finally settled, it was the Ravaging Demon who emerged victorious. He stood triumphantly atop the serpent's lifeless body, his own blood dripping down his arm, his body marred by numerous injuries. Thrusting his hand into the serpent's gleaming scales, he tore open its colossal carcass. Poison and blood erupted from the serpent's depths, filling the cavern and seeping down the mountainside, flowing into the valley below and branching out."

"But what about the wanderer? What happened to him? Wasn't he injured?" Grey inquired, curiosity brimming in his eyes. 

The old man smiled warmly. "Ah, indeed, the adventurer was not spared from harm. He emerged from his battle with the great beast bearing the wounds of his ordeal, most notably the loss of his right eye. Despite his victory, he could not escape the clutches of exhaustion and collapsed. However, the tale of the Ravaging Demon did not end there. You see, the serpent he had vanquished was not just any formidable creature; it was the mythical Asclepion, a serpentine guardian known for its unparalleled healing and regenerative properties. As the Ravaging Demon lay in the serpent's blood, seemingly on the brink of death, a miraculous transformation took hold. His wounds, inflicted by the beast's fangs, miraculously began to close, and his shattered bones started to mend themselves. Yet, his right eye never returned." Grey's grandfather touched the space where his own right eye should have been, a solemn gesture. "Why his eye did not regenerate remains a mystery known only to the gods above.” With a stretch and a slight shift in posture, he continued, "When the adventurer finally awoke, he witnessed a breathtaking sight—a river of emerald green cascading across the valley, breathing new life into the barren land. Inspired by the beauty and the promise of rejuvenation, he made a fateful decision to settle in this very valley."

Grey was utterly captivated, his eyes glistening with wonder, and his mind brimming with excitement. "Grandpa! That's absolutely incredible. It's almost beyond belief! I wish I could experience something like that." His grandfather wore a sorrowful smile, his words tinged with pity. The curious grandson looked down, recalling his earlier thoughts. "Grandpa, you mentioned that the adventurer was known as the Ravaging Demon, right?"

The old man couldn't help but smirk. "Indeed, I did say that. Why do you want to know?"

Grey kicked at the dirt, his young mind working to connect the dots. "Well, isn't that what the villagers call you, Grandpa? And if they call you that, does it mean you're, like, a hundred years old?" The Ravaging Demon playfully flicked his grandson's nose.

"It's not very polite to tease your elders like that, you know. Come on, let's head back. I'm sure your mother will have dinner ready in no time."

The two raced down the grassy slope, little Grey's tiny hand wrapped securely around his grandfather's finger. "I wish I could be as strong as you one day, Grandpa."

The old man smiled, his eyes drifting toward the distant peak of the serpent. "Let's hope so, my boy. Let's hope so." Then he recovered, the wonderment returned to his face, “It’s a lot of fun being the strongest!”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grey's hand trembled as he carefully guided the spoon of soup toward his mouth. A little dribble escaped from the spoon, falling back into the bowl. "Aha! I win!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. He glanced at his grandfather, who responded by playfully tossing his own spoon of soup into the air.

Natalia, standing in the kitchen with an apron tied around her waist, turned her attention to her father-in-law and son. "Boys, can we please refrain from launching soup onto the ceiling?" She snapped her fingers, and the brownish liquid that had found its way onto the ceiling began to trickle down, coalescing into a single droplet just above the old man's bowl. The Ravaging Demon peered at his daughter-in-law, cocking his head curiously.

“Don't you dare—" The Ravaging Demon started to warn, but she couldn't hold back her mischievous grin. She snapped her fingers again, and the suspended droplet of liquid descended, splashing into the bowl of soup. This caused even more of the meal to slosh out, mostly over her father-in-law. He looked down at his once-silvery shirt, now adorned with splatters of brown goop.

"Of course you had to do that," Grey chimed in, leaning back and joining in the laughter. Unbeknownst to him, his own laughter caused his elbow to collide with his bowl, launching a small spray of soup into the air. They all erupted in laughter.

Natalia walked over to her son, patting his head with a rag. "Why don't you go wash up, dear? Grandpa and I will take care of this mess." Her son eagerly hopped out of his chair and nodded, waddling off toward the bathroom.

Once Grey was out of earshot, Natalia's face lost its playfulness. The shimmer in her eye vanished, replaced by an expression of deep concern and fear. She asked her father-in-law quietly, "Do you think it will work?"

The Demon cast his gaze downward, his expression heavy. "He's still just a young boy, Natalia, but it's the only way." He absently rubbed the wrinkles in his hands, his knuckles receiving a gentle massage from his fingers.

Natalia approached her father-in-law and took a seat beside him. "He'll resent me for this, my only son, if only my husband–" she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of weary sorrow in every syllable.

The Ravaging Demon rose abruptly, his voice taking on a guttural, otherworldly quality. "No," he declared, his words gravelly and determined. "We mustn't let him discover the truth. If he finds out, everything we've built will crumble!"

Just then, Grey entered the room, a towel draped over his head. "Mom!" he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes. "The pipes are clogged again." Natalia sighed and wearily rubbed her own eyes, the family's secret weighing heavily on her heart.

Grimacing at Grey's grandfather, Natalia walked briskly past him, guiding her son toward the bathroom. "Come on, Grey. I'll give you a hand." The silver-faced grandpa pursed his lips, his fingers lightly caressing the crystalline needles hanging from his chin. His eye held a solemn glint, the red iris in the center spiraling rapidly. With an exasperated sigh, he headed toward the door. However, just as he was about to push through the swinging door, it swung open toward him, and his son stepped inside. 

"Ah, Father," the man greeted, brushing past his father and entering the house. He gently patted his father on the shoulder before calling out, "Grey! Natalia! Where is everyone?" 

The Ravaging Demon turned around, his palms turning upward in a placating gesture. "Don't take it so seriously, son. Tell me, how have things been for you? How's the new village head handling their duties?"

Grey's father raised his hand and rubbed the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing momentarily. "Things are going well, Father, but I'm quite busy, so if you could—" Suddenly, his jaw clenched, and his spine stiffened, a ripple of pain coursing through him. 

"Seems like being away from the battlefield has made you a bit less resilient, eh? Here I am, just a frail old man," The words flowed from him in waves, carrying a subtle edge that Grey's father found hard to bear.

"I—" He gritted his teeth. "I am the Harbinger of Death, Chief of the village on the Rhine." His neck twitched with both pain and determination. "Release me."

The Ravaging Demon rolled his eyes. "It was just a harmless jest." He nodded toward the bathroom. "Your wife and child are in there. The drain is clogged again."

The Harbinger of Death let out a resigned sigh. "Father..." he began but cut himself off, changing his tone. "I'll go take care of it."

Smiling warmly, the old man made his way toward the front door. "That's my good boy. And be sure to look after my grandchild!" He raised his hand in a wave before heading down the cobblestone path that led from the house back toward the village. As he walked, he absentmindedly rubbed his forefinger and middle finger together, twiddling a small blue sphere nestled between them. The shimmer of distant memories echoing off the cobalt blue.