THE CHOOSEN

A month had passed since I began my physical training program. Each day, I ran five kilometers, lifted enormous stone blocks, and performed push-ups, squats, and presses. As I reflected on my progress, I realized my body had grown stronger, and the fire within me burned brighter. I was ready to face Anos, the looming threat I had sworn to defeat.

One morning, as I trained, the serene forest around me seemed alive. The trees, their leaves fresh and green, swayed in the cool breeze, and the air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew that had settled on the branches. It was the perfect place to practice undisturbed, or so I thought.

Out of nowhere, a strange man, around 20 years old, appeared before me. I froze, unsure of where he had come from. He was neither demon nor human, a mystery wrapped in peculiar clothing adorned with motifs I had never seen. His eyes and hair were stark white, and he held a large staff topped with a glowing blue orb.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" I asked bluntly, trying to mask my anxiety. I was ready for a fight, uncertain of his intentions and wary of the unfamiliar appearance that screamed danger. I kept my distance, muscles tensed.

"Can you fight?" he asked seriously, his gaze unwavering, as if he wouldn't let me leave without a battle.

I was shaken but didn't want to appear weak. I had been training for a month, after all, and I had to test my newfound strength, even if I knew I wasn't ready for a fight.

"Yes, I can fight," I said, my voice betraying the nervousness I felt.

"Alright, show me what you've got," he replied.

We were five meters apart. I lunged forward, launching a swift attack, but before my hands could even make contact, I felt them severed, a sharp pain running through my body. I was stunned—there was no sign of a blade or knife. I didn't see the strike coming. Then, in the blink of an eye, both my legs were cut off. I fell to the ground, horrified, certain I was about to die.

As darkness overtook my vision, I caught a glimpse of the man, standing over me, lost in thought, as if questioning his own actions.

Suddenly, I was jolted awake, gasping for breath, my heart racing. "It was just a dream," I muttered to myself, trying to shake off the feeling of dread as I scanned my surroundings, I realized I was lying under a tree, .

"It wasn't a dream," a voice said abruptly.

I froze, hearing the strange man's voice again. My instincts kicked in, and I quickly assumed a defensive position, scanning my surroundings. I hadn't seen anyone—until I heard the rustling above me.

Before I could react, the man dropped down from the tree I had been resting under. The fear of death surged through me again.

"Please, spare my life! I'm still young!" I begged, panicked.

"Who said I was going to kill you?" he asked, tilting his head with curiosity.

"You almost killed me last time!" I shot back, bewildered.

"My apologies for frightening you," he said,his tone now softer, almost regretful. The menacing aura around him had dissipated, replaced by an unexpected kindness. His demeanor had completely shifted. He seemed genuinely sorry for his actions.

"Apology accepted," I said, feeling a strange sense of relief. I let the matter drop.

"Anyway, who are you? What kind of skills do you have? And how am I still alive?" I questioned, still bewildered as I checked my body for any injuries. There were none. My eyes fell on his odd staff again, intrigued by its mysterious design.

"Can you stop that?" the man shouted, frustration creeping into his voice.

I paused, not wanting to anger him further. "Fine, I'll stop," I muttered, not wanting to push my luck.

Finally, the man sighed and said, "My name is Merlin. I am the guardian of humanity. From now on, I am under your command. My duty is to help you, the future king of humanity, succeed in your quest by any means necessary."

I blinked, shocked. "Me? A king?" I stammered, unable to believe what I was hearing. Humans didn't have guardians. But there was something about Merlin—his presence, his power—that suggested he was telling the truth.

"Yes, you," he said, bowing to me. "You are the chosen one."

I couldn't wrap my head around it. "There must be some mistake. I'm not a king. I'm just an ordinary human," I said, offering him a hand to help him rise.

"There is no mistake. You are the hero humanity has been looking for," Merlin insisted, his voice unwavering.

"Chosen hero for humanity? But... I'm just a weakling. I could never be a hero," I said, my voice filled with doubt. I had no power, no extraordinary abilities—just a desire to be strong.

Merlin smiled, as if he knew something I didn't. "My liege, look at your right hand."

I glanced at my hand in confusion. There, etched into my skin, was a strange mark—a symbol of water and fire, intertwined. I had always had it, but I had never thought much of it.

"In my belief," Merlin continued, "this mark represents the power you possess. Fire, a weapon only granted to the hero of humanity, the choosen hero. And I, as your guardian, am here to teach you how to wield that power, to grow stronger than any of our enemies, and protect humanity from annihilation."

His words hit me like a bolt of lightning. I had always dreamed of being a hero, but never thought I had the strength to protect anyone. Now, with Merlin by my side, I saw a glimmer of hope.

"I understand," I said, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders. "Alright, I've made up my mind. I will save humanity."

For the first time, I felt truly determined. With Merlin's guidance, I would grow stronger. I would protect the people who needed me. I had no doubt now that I was the hero humanity had been waiting for. And I would fulfill my destiny, no matter what.

END OF CHAPTER ONE