[Chapter 1 - The returning player]

The village lay under an eternal sky of ashen clouds, blocking the sun for as long as anyone could remember. The air was thick with the scent of decay. Crooked trees lined the barren fields, their skeletal branches reaching toward the heavens in silent prayer. The soil was dry and cracked, lifeless as if cursed. Crops withered before they could bear fruit, and the once-vibrant rice paddies were now nothing but empty husks.

The village had long since ceased to be a place of hope. The earth was cold and barren, and the rivers had dried into cracked veins of stone.

A young man, around 18 years was ploughing through the dry fields, his name was isaac. The dry wind was tugging at his tattered scarf which covered his short hair. Dirt clung to his sweat-slicked skin, settling in the creases of his furrowed face. His vest, once white, was now a patchwork of stitches barely holding it together. Beneath him, his boots sank slightly into the soft, wasted soil—earth that had long since given up on bearing life.

He stared down at the lifeless sprouts, brittle and gray before they had the chance to thrive. A heavy silence hung between him and the land, broken only by the hollow rustling of dead leaves in the wind.

His hands curled into fists. He turned to his father, his voice thick with frustration. "How much longer are we supposed to pretend this is still a farm?"

"We keep trying every year but nothing ever grows, I'm afraid at this rate the village would starve to death." His tone was tired, hollow.

His father, a man with a weathered face and eyes dressed similarly with ragged and dirty clothes, his eyes were filled with memories of a time lost, let out a slow breath. His hands trembled slightly as he knelt, brushing his fingers over the wilted plants as if hoping to breathe life back into them.

"It wasn't always like this," he murmured. "When I was young, this land was our paradise. Golden rice paddies stretched as far as the eye could see. The clouds weren't cold and frozen, the rain fell as it should, the sun blessed us with warmth.

Isaac frowned, skeptical. "Father, you keep talking about this rain but I've never seen it in my whole life."

His father's face darkened, his voice turning solemn. "That's because the last time it rained… you were just a baby."

Silence settled between them.

A woman's voice broke the stillness. "Father…"

Isaac turned to see his sister approaching, The woman moved with a quiet grace, though her thin frame and hollowed cheeks told of hardships worn like a second skin. Her long, faded dress, once a richer hue, now hung loosely over her lean form, In her hands, she clutched a small box wrapped in cloth, It was a simple meal, carried with care, meant for the two men toiling in the fields—her father and brother.

At her feet, a frail little girl clung to the folds of her dress, her small fingers curled into the fabric as if afraid to let go. Two thin pigtails framed her pale face.

The woman's expression was grim as she unwrapped the box to reveal the last of their food—some stale bread and a handful of beans.

"This is all we have left."

The weight of her words pressed down on them. The drought had stolen everything.

Their father's gaze darkened. "Where is your husband?" he asked sharply. "We need his help in the fields."

She hesitated before answering. "H-he went to the city to find work… to bring food."

The moment the words left her mouth, their father's expression turned to fury.

"You know our rules!" he snapped. "We do not go to the outside world. We do not rely on their machines and their… corruption. We survive with our own hands like we have for generations, what would the town people say if they learn of this corruption in my own family?!"

She glared back at him, her voice rising. "Survive?! Is that what you call this? Watching our children starve? Just waiting for death?!"

"We refuse to accept this, my husband is doing everything he can to make sure our children are safe. What the town folks say doesn't matter to us"

Their argument was interrupted when a lone figure walked past them, heading toward the entrance of the dead forest.

"Beauty!" The woman called.

Beauty turned to the woman and her family who were in the fields, she was shivering as if she didn't expect herself to be seen.

"Where are you going?" The woman asked.

The young woman, Beauty, kept walking, her eyes set on the dark trees ahead.

"To the forest. We're running out of food, perhaps if I search deeper into the woods I can find something to eat." Her voice lacked hope.

The other woman's face twisted in pain. "There's nothing there, Beauty. We've searched every inch of that place."

The forest had long died—its once-thriving flora reduced to withered husks, and with them, the animals and creatures also ceased to exist.

"I know you're not looking for food." Said the woman.

A deep silence followed.

"Beauty, listen to me…" The woman's voice wavered. "It's been five years. There's no way a child could have survived there alone."

Beauty clenched her fists.

"He wasn't just any child. He was my boy, I raised him since he was a little baby, perhaps that's why I feel it in my heart he's still out there."

The father's face twisted with fury as Beauty spoke, his hands clenching into trembling fists. His glare burned into her, filled with a hatred sharpened over the years.

"That child you seek," he spat, his voice shaking with rage, "is the devil's kin. Since the night he was born, this town has known nothing but drought, misfortune, and misery. Look around you, Beauty—black clouds have smothered our skies for years, the forests withered into lifeless husks. This land is cursed so he could feed and grow from of our sufferings."

His breath came heavy, his anger mounting. "And you still defend him? After what he's done?" He took a step closer, his shadow looming over her. "He killed the boy he once called his brother. Burned down the orphanage that took him in, that gave him warmth and care. And if we hadn't stopped him, he would have killed the church father too. That child was a curse, a disease. We had to drag him away before it was too late!"

His voice rose, raw with emotion. "And you think he deserves to be found? We should have never banished him that night, it would have been safe if we burned him alive, like we did it to the witch who gave birth to him, the devil's child!"

"Perhaps then the curse would have been lifted and our lives would have been better."

Beauty's eyes brimmed with tears, blurring the faces around her. Their words felt like knives, carving wounds she had no strength to mend. Her mind drifted back to that fateful night—the night her older sister gave birth, while the villagers hunted her down like an animal. Trembling and weak, she pressed the newborn into Beauty's arms.

"Save him. Hide him away. They won't understand."

At first glance, it barely resembled a child. Its skin was a rough shade of green, marked with black dots that traced strange patterns across its body. Small, pointed horns pushed through its forehead, and his thin, fragile tail curled around Beauty's wrist. Everything about it screamed unnatural — a creature that shouldn't exist.

And yet, When the infant's tiny fingers wrapped around hers and he gave her that strange, peaceful smile, Beauty felt something she couldn't explain. In that moment, he wasn't a monster. He was just... a child.

A helpless, innocent child who knew nothing of the hatred waiting for him in this world.

And that smile?

It was enough to make Beauty risk everything to protect it.

Beauty clutched her chest, her breath shaky. "You're wrong!" she cried, her voice breaking. "I am the mother! I know my dear Cydear—he could never do something so horrible! He couldn't even hurt a spider!"

But the villagers, their fear, their hatred—none of them saw him the way she did. All they saw was a curse.

The woman's gaze softened, but her words carried the weight of bitter truth. "Beauty… you know what he did. He took your fiancé's life in cold blood. Your own parents saw it happen."

Beauty froze. The world seemed to shrink around her, suffocating, unbearable. The townspeople working in the nearby fields overheard their conversation. Their faces twisted with disgust and resentment as Beauty desperately defended the creature she called her child.

"No, you're wrong!" Beauty cried out. "My fiancé was an abusive man. He tried to force himself on me... Cydal was scared. He only acted to protect me!"

But the woman, her brother, and their father refused to believe her. To them, Beauty's words were nothing but pathetic lies, spoken only to protect that cursed creature. Their hatred only grew, seeing how far she would go to defend what they called a fiend.

Beauty couldn't take it anymore, she screamed. A raw, anguished sound that tore through the fields, carried by the wind, echoing through the lifeless trees.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!!"

Without another word, she turned and ran.

"Beauty!" the woman called after her, but she didn't stop.

Her father and brother stood in stunned silence as she disappeared into the dead forest, swallowed by the darkness between the trees.

Beauty ran through the dying forest, her breath heavy, her heartbeat wild with panic. Branches scraped against her arms as she pushed through the brittle undergrowth, her mind racing.

"Where is he?"

Then she saw it—the old, broken treehouse. Its wooden beams sagged under years of decay, tangled in dead vines and brittle leaves. A place forgotten by time, her voice echoed in the vast emptiness of the forest as she called out,

The past flashed in eyes, she was standing against the same treehouse.

"Oh, Cydear… Cydear, I'm here. Where are you?"

Silence.

A terrible fear gripped her chest. "Cydear? Oh my god, Cydear!" She rushed toward the tree, her hands gripping the rotting bark as she climbed, her mind filled with the worst possibilities.

Then—

"Beauty!!"

A blur of movement.

Cydal leaped from the treehouse, his small frame falling toward her. He was crying, his voice filled with terror. His long dress flared around him, barely concealing the tail he so desperately tried to hide. The scarf wrapped around his head came loose mid-air, unraveling like a lost ribbon, revealing the tiny horns he had tucked away.

Beauty gasped, her instincts taking over as she threw her arms out. His body crashed into hers, nearly knocking her off balance.

She held him tightly, her heart pounding. "Are you out of your mind?! What if I hadn't caught you? You can't just—"

Cydal buried his face against her, his small hands clutching her dress. "Big Sis Beauty…" His voice was shaking. "I don't want to kill anyone… I'm scared."

Her breath hitched. His words were desperate, pleading.

She gently pulled away, fixing the scarf over his horns once more. "Is it that voice again?"

Cydal nodded, trembling.

"The voice…" He hesitated, then clung to her even tighter. "It—it gives me a list of people. It tells me I have to kill them. Or else…" He swallowed hard. "Or else something bad will happen to you."

Beauty blinked, then let out a short, confident laugh. "Is that all?" She ruffled his scarf playfully. "Cydear, listen to me. I'm strong, okay? Nothing bad is going to happen to me."

Cydal looked up at her with wide, uncertain eyes.

"I promise," she said, her voice firm. "I'll always protect you. And besides…" She smirked, tilting her head. "You know they call me the Man-Slayer back in the village? Not a single man has ever beaten me. We'll be just fine."

Cydal sniffled, his tears slowing. Then, finally, he smiled.

—Years Later—

The treehouse was empty now. Beauty stood beneath it, staring at the worn, broken structure. The vines had grown thicker, swallowing the remnants of their childhood hideaway. But she could still hear his laughter, still feel the warmth of his tiny hands clinging to her.

Her voice, steady yet distant, carried through the hollow air.

"Cydear… you need to stop talking about the voice."

A soft wind rustled through the trees. The past felt so close she could almost touch it.

She smiled to herself. "Your skin is turning normal as you grow older. I suspect your horns and tail will fall off soon, too. And then… I can finally take you home. I'll introduce you to everyone, and you won't have to live in this lonely forest anymore."

She sighed, looked here and there and continued walking deeper into the forest as tears fell from her eyes. The deeper Beauty walked, the darker the world became. The towering trees were skeletal, twisted, their bark blackened and lifeless. Dead leaves crunched under her steps.

"Cydear…" her voice barely broke the silence. "Cydear!"

Nothing.

Tears welled in her eyes. She had been here so many times before, always leaving with the same despair.

She collapsed to her knees. "Please… if you're out there… I just want to see you one last time."

A soft beep echoed.

A digital interface flickered in the air before a young man, his expression cold and unreadable. His screen displayed:

[Final Battle Royale: Search and Find the designated location where the battle Royal takes place, all players are adviced to reach within 12 hours. Time remains: 40 minutes. The Penalty for missing is: Death.] With a signal of his hand. He flickered the screen and turned it off.

Cydal stood at the edge of the forest, his gaze sweeping over the lifeless trees and the brittle, colorless ground. Still the same miserable place. Still the same suffocating silence.

Nothing had changed.

His expression was sharp, unreadable, the weight of years pressing down on his shoulders. A black eyepatch covered his left eye, a constant reminder of long past he wishes to walk away from. His clothes, stitched from animal skin and fur, clung to his lean frame, worn from years of survival in the wilderness.

The wind howled through the dead branches, whispering secrets he no longer cared to hear. His eyes, once soft and filled with wonder, now held nothing but emptiness.

Beauty's eyes, long dulled by despair, flickered with a fragile spark of hope as she noticed him emerging from the gloom. "Cydear?" she called softly, her voice trembling like a fragile lullaby amid the silence of dead trees. Despite the thorny underbrush that clutched at her skin and the faded remnants of her dress, she pressed on, a lone tear trailing down her cheek—a silent testament to the joy of finally finding the lost child she had mourned for so long.

In a heartbeat, she was before him, arms outstretched. "You're alive! Everyone told me you were dead—but how could I believe them? You're my child. I could feel you in my heart," she cried, her voice a mixture of jubilant relief and long-held sorrow.

But Cydal's face, half-hidden by a shadow of bitterness and burden, hardened as he gripped her shoulder. With a swift, dismissive push, he shoved her away. His cold, deadly gaze met hers. "You've got the wrong person. I wouldn't know anyone so fragile or weak."

Beauty stood in disbelief, refusing to accept the words cydal had spoken, before she could get a chance to say something, the ground began to tremble beneath their feet as the trees in the distance cracked and collapsed, snapping like fragile twigs. From the shadows of the cursed forest, something ancient and terrible emerged, slithering forward with monstrous grace.

A colossal serpent, its scales black as midnight and eyes burning with a sickly green glow, carved its way through the forest, leaving destruction in its wake. It moved with terrifying speed, its massive body crushing trees and shattering stones as it advanced.

Beauty froze in horror as the beast's monstrous jaws unhinged, wide enough to swallow her whole. She couldn't move. She couldn't scream. This wasn't something that belonged to their world—it was something born from the depths of a nightmare.

In that moment, Cydal's screen flickered to life before him.

[WARNING: King of Reptiles Detected.]

To be continued!