A Day Turned to Nightmare

The sun had climbed high overhead when hunger finally made the children restless. "Home time!" one of them called out, and the others quickly agreed. I was grateful – my tiny body needed more frequent meals than I was used to, and playing "hunt the mammoth" (which was really just running around with stick spears) had drained what little energy I had.

It was sort of took my mind of things, playing stick with these children. That little devil wouldn't let me sit or go, always sticking close to me.

I had been the only child to them; here and in my previous world, there was no sibling. Seeing Koto sort of filled that feeling. Her gestures at attempting to get me to socialise even though she doesn't really know what's going on in my mind.

Even now, she was walking with her hand clasped in mine.

"We will play again after eating, ok Jorghan?" She said, more like ordered.

"Yeah, yeah." I nod. As we walked towards the village, she kept on talking about something.

But as we crested the final hill leading back to the village, I saw it.

Thick, black smoke rising in columns against the clear mountain sky. My old instincts kicked in immediately—something was very wrong.

Then came the explosion. The sound echoed off the mountain walls like thunder, and the children around me screamed. I was already running, my small legs pumping as fast as they could manage.

The others followed, their crying and panicked breathing forming a chorus of fear behind me.

"Mama!" Koto sobbed as she ran. "Papa!"

We reached the village entrance, and I froze.

The scene before us was straight out of a nightmare. Our mighty log houses, built to withstand the harshest mountain winters, were engulfed in flames that burned with unnatural colours.

Bodies lay scattered across the ground. Warriors I'd known since birth, women who'd helped care for us children, all still and silent. The snow was stained red, just like those lilies in my vision, but this was no dream.

Through the smoke and chaos, I saw them—figures in dark robes, hands glowing with deadly magic. Raiders. But not common bandits—these were trained battle mages.

[Caution: Mana Levels Exceed Safe Absorption Threshold]

[Current Body Cannot Process all the negative energy]

[Emergency Protocols Engaged]

I couldn't care to look at the warning sign thrown at me; my mind was only focused on a particular direction.

In the centre of the village, near our house, my father stood with his great war axe, bleeding from multiple wounds but still fighting. Around him, the few warriors still standing formed a desperate circle. My mother was there too, her hands raised in the traditional battle stance of our tribe's shamans.

Koto screamed beside me. Her father, Ser'kai, lay motionless near the entrance of their home, three smoking holes burned through his chest.

The children behind me were crying, paralysed with fear. But I couldn't focus on them.

In my past life, I'd seen my share of violence, orchestrated plenty of it myself. But this was different. This was wholesale slaughter.

And I, with all my supposed power, was trapped in the body of a five-year-old child, barely able to walk, let alone fight.

No, I thought. Not again. I won't watch family die again.

[Alert: Mana levels exceeding host limits]

[Negative energy levels increasing]

[INITIALIAZING!]

The system's warnings buzzed in my head, but I couldn't care less.

All I could focus on were those dark-robed figures and my mother—my new mother, Sewi – running toward me, her face twisted in desperate concern as she screamed my name.

That's when another group burst into the clearing.

More warriors, but not ours.

Their furs were different; their weapons were already bloodied.

One of them spotted my mother and charged. Even from this distance, I could see the murderous intent in his eyes.

Mother saw him too. But instead of running away, she ran faster toward me.

No!

No, no, NO!!

The warrior's blade flashed in the light.

Ser'gu also saw her and ran after the man who was aiming at her.

I was running too, my tiny legs pushing as hard as they could, but it was useless. It was all useless.

The sword swung.

Time seemed to slow down as her head separated from her body. It flew through the air in a graceful arc, landing with a soft thud right in front of me.

I stopped, frozen.

The lifeless head of my mother was lying on the ground in front of me.

I was staring into those eyes—eyes that even now held nothing but concern for me. The same eyes that had looked at me with such love these past months were so different from my first mother's betrayal. I looked at her face, which smiled at me, just this morning.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I didn't even realize I was crying until I tasted their salt on my lips. They wouldn't stop. Why wouldn't they stop?

A scream tore from my throat, raw and primal. The sound of a child watching their mother die—again. Rage flooded every cell of my tiny body.

Why? WHY? WHY DID THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN?

[Host's emotions have triggered the latent bloodline—enhanced by overwhelming negative energy]

[Bloodline power awakening—restrictions weakening under extreme stress]

The negative energy was like a storm, immersing him from all sides. But I couldn't care about it right now; I could feel my body becoming heavy as I tried to move.

FUCKK!!

Wasn't this supposed to be my second chance? Some fucking chance this turned out to be.

You shitty goddess, what kind of world did you throw me into? If she were in front of me, I would have smacked her face.

At first, it was nice seeing those happy faces.

I was happy here. Actually happy. No backstabbing, no hidden agendas, just a simple life in the mountains with a family that genuinely cared for each other.

I was starting to love them. To trust them. To believe that maybe, just maybe, I could have the family I never had in my first life.

[Warning: Emotional state critically unstable]

[Mana Devourer attribute responding to emotional catalyst]

[Emergency limiters disengaging]

[Caution: Host body may sustain damage]

The world began to turn red – not the peaceful red of my lily garden, but the violent crimson of pure rage. I could feel something building inside me, a pressure that threatened to tear me apart from the inside.

[Final Warning: Power surge imminent]

[Bloodline unlocked]

Bloodline? The fuck was that?

[Seven Star Blood Deviant]

[Ancestral bloodline of immemorial]

I didn't care if I survived. I didn't care about anything anymore except making them pay. All of them. Every last one of these bastards who dared to take my family from me again.

The pressure kept building and building and building...

I was starting to lose my balance; my vision was turning red again.

Lilies, I could see them again.

-

"Runga!" Ser'gu's voice boomed across the burning village, recognising the war chief who led the attacking warriors.

Runga had once ruled these mountains with an iron fist until Ser'gu arrived and defeated him, banishing him from these lands. But it wasn't Runga's presence that made Ser'gu's blood run cold.

Behind the barbarian warriors stood a figure in gleaming knight's golden armour, so out of place among the furs and leather of the mountain tribes. His presence and his aura were totally in contrast to what's happening around him. He looked to be around mid-forties, handsome, with a moustache, sharp on both ends.

Ser'gu had expected this, had known deep down when he saw the dark-robed mages that he would be behind it all. Those red-robed mages, he recognised them, while others didn't. They were strong mages, minimum 8-star mages. They were not from around here; they were from the mainlands. Ser'gu understood now.

Ser'gu planted his feet firmly in the blood-soaked snow, his massive frame still imposing despite his wounds. His eyes fixed on the knight, voice dropping to a grim growl.

"So it was you, Hawkin?"

Hawkin cut a noble figure in his ornate armour, every inch the mainlander lord, nothing like the savage grace of the mountain tribes. His laugh echoed coldly across the battlefield.

"Little bastard brother, don't look at me like that. It's only fair, right? After all, you are the son of that man. Your bloodline reeks of his stench."

Ser'gu's grip tightened on his war axe until his knuckles turned white. His eyes darted between his dead wife, Sewi, and his son, Jorghan. He couldn't protect his wife, his son, who was present before her body, his will burned brighter seeing his son.

Even with multiple wounds painting his fur clothes crimson, rage made his muscles tense like coiled springs.

"Bind him," Hawkin commanded the dark mages while gesturing for Runga's barbarians to attack.

They came at Ser'gu in waves, and he cut them down just as swiftly. This was the might of the Berserk Lord, the man who had carved a path of destruction through the mainlands before coming to these mountains. He earned various titles over the years since his young age, and every single warrior knew who he was. He was a force to be reckoned with.

Each swing of his axe sent bodies flying; each roar reminded them why armies had trembled at his name.

Even the combined might of the mages' magic barely fazed him; their bindings, crafted with intricate spells, were nothing more than fragile threads before his sheer power. His strength knew no bounds.

With a casual motion of his axe, he tore through them as if they had never existed.

Then, with a brutal swing of his axe, he cleaved through the air, sending shockwaves rippling outward. One unfortunate mage found himself caught within his grasp—there was no escape. His fingers tightened, bones cracked, and in a sickening crunch, the mage's body crumpled like dry parchment, crushed by strength so overwhelming it defied reason.

His body was like a balloon, burst out. Blood sprayed all over his hands and on him too.

They couldn't stop him.

Hawkin watched with a serious expression on his face.

-

But then Hawkin played his final card. One of his men dragged forward the semiconscious form of Jorghan, the boy's head lolling weakly.

Hawkin caught hold of the boy's foot and raised him into the air.

"Hey, bastard brother, see this," he shouted towards Ser'gu.

"NO!" Ser'gu's bellow shook the mountains themselves.

"Don't do anything to him. He's still just a child. No!"

"Then throw down your weapon and kneel," Hawkin's voice dripped with satisfaction.

The mighty axe fell from Ser'gu's hands, thudding into the bloodied snow. The Berserk Lord, terror of the mainlands and king of the mountain tribes, dropped to his knees. He didn't even think twice before doing it.

Hawkin's smile was cruel as he gave the order: "Kill him. Slowly. Let the boy watch."

Through blurred vision, barely clinging to consciousness, Jorghan was forced to witness his father's execution.

Runga stabbed him in the chest, and a few more blades struck him from the back; blood dripped from his lips, but his focus was on the boy, his little boy.

Jorghan watched with his half vision, red-coloured. His father was staring at him; his mind was filled with nothing but anger. He could hear the cries of the people and children too.

They were killing everybody.

After stabbing him, they moved back, watching him.

But suddenly Ser'gu stood up and threw himself towards Hawkin; he was going for Jorghan. Even after being stabbed so many times, he was still able to stand up. He wanted to take his son and take him out of here. But Hawkin didn't let it happen, as he took his sword out and stabbed him right in the heart and then kicked him to the ground.

Runga then sliced his head off.

"Fucking monster, fighting even after dying," Runga muttered in his language.

The proud mountain king died as he had lived—protecting his family until his last breath. But this time, all his strength, all his fury, hadn't been enough to save them.

Hawkin threw the boy on Ser'gu and said, "Burn every one of them."

And somewhere in the boy's mind, something snapped.

[Bloodline Ability: Bloodborne Rage]

[Rapid Absorption of Negative Energy Detected]

[Mana Level: Surging Beyond Limits]