YWTO 01

Chapter 1

 Prologue

‘Seriously… I might really die this time.’

Zarkal caught the scent of blood drifting on the wind and thought that.
No—perhaps that metallic smell was coming from his own body.
That’s how torn apart he was right now.

His breathing was ragged.
Each time he exhaled, the taste of blood rose up from deep within.
His whole body felt like waterlogged cotton—heavy and aching.
And inside him, the magic power that refused to calm down was seething chaotically.
It was the sign of an impending magic overload.

Yet even so, Zarkal did not lower his sword.
Instead, he squeezed the hilt tighter, forcing out what little strength he had left.

Before him were countless monsters.
If he turned his back and ran, it was obvious who they would target next.

“…Your Highness, p-please—run—!”

The hoarse voice came from his side.
It was Hassen, the only surviving subordinate after the chaos of this battle.
Zarkal understood what the man was thinking.
But he had no intention of fleeing and abandoning him.

Many of his men had already died fighting the monsters.
Their corpses were piled at his feet.

‘If I retreat now, even Hassen will die.’

Zarkal clenched his jaw.
‘I can’t back down.’

He quickly scanned the battlefield—though there was hardly a “battlefield” left to see.
His soldiers had sacrificed themselves to take down the monsters, yet their numbers were still overwhelming.
It was, without a doubt, a hopeless situation.

‘There’s no chance of reinforcements either.’

He tightened his grip on his sword.
As if that were a signal, the monsters that had paused for a moment now charged all at once.

A beast with a tiger’s head and a snake’s head lunged toward him.
As it raised its front paw, long claws extended—sharp enough to tear him apart in one blow.

With a heavy crash, the monster struck down.
Zarkal lifted his sword and blocked.
His blade looked far too fragile compared to the creature’s enormous paw, yet it didn’t yield.
Instead, it bit into the monster’s flesh, glowing blue as it hummed.

Then—slash!

A scream pierced the air.
The monster’s severed paw hit the ground with a thud.
Ignoring its shriek, Zarkal sliced through its neck.

The fall of that head seemed to trigger the rest—
Hundreds of monsters roared and charged.

The earth trembled beneath their feet.
Zarkal gritted his teeth and cut them down one after another.
Each arc of his sword drew a blue trail; with every swing, a monster’s head fell.

Yet still—

‘There are too many.’

He drew a deep, rough breath.
He was killing them one by one, but the situation was dire.
He raised his sword again, spreading his mana widely despite the pain ravaging his body.
He could feel his magic eating away at him from within, but it was the only way to survive.

Fortunately, his power seemed to make the monsters hesitate, their steps faltering.
He endured the burning agony that gnawed through his body and continued to strike them down, wielding his mana with desperate precision.

His subordinates had been skilled—many monsters had already fallen thanks to them.
That was the only reason he could still stand alone now.
If only his magic wouldn’t go out of control…

‘I can still fight…’

The nausea returned, followed by excruciating pain.
But he endured.
He had to—if he was to protect the surface from being overrun.

The purified energy of his mana touched the monsters’ feet, and they screamed in agony.
To them, mana was both a delicacy and a deadly poison.
Especially the mana of Prince Zarkal.

Then—

“Ugh—!”

A pained groan slipped through his teeth.

“Your Highness!” Hassen shouted.

It had happened—the worst possible outcome.
The mana that had been flowing obediently through Zarkal suddenly turned and attacked its master.
The strength that had held him upright crumbled instantly.
A surge of unbearable pain followed.

Every time his power spiraled out of control, it felt like his body was being ripped apart from the inside.
Even though he had grown used to that agony, it still made him want to scream.
His mana was rampaging again.

‘This is it… the end.’

He knew it instinctively.
This time, he wouldn’t survive.

Had it been greed to think he could at least protect Hassen… and the bodies of the dead who followed him?

‘Soon the monsters will tear me apart.’

Pathetic.
Dragged out to foreign soil, leading his men to their deaths.
Forced to call the one who wished for his death “Mother.”

Even if by some miracle he returned alive, the Empress would never stop.
She’d find another excuse—for the sake of the Empire, she’d say—and send him to die again.

There was a reason she always threw him into danger.
Zarkal was the strongest Esper in the Empire.
An Esper’s power constantly overflowed within them, too vast to contain.
And when that mana stagnated inside their body, it tore them apart from within.
That was the Mana Rampage.

A Guide could help circulate that mana—
The one person capable of preventing an Esper’s power from destroying them.
To an Esper, a Guide was their lifeline.

But… would the Empress ever allow him to meet one?
The only Guide in the world—his older brother the Crown Prince’s fiancée?
Of course not.
She’d probably be delighted to watch him die like this.
Perhaps that had been her plan all along.

If only he could be guided, he could live.
Despite his immense strength, he longed for a Guide more than anyone.

‘I’m sick of this.’

Sick of his life.
Of this curse that bound him even if he survived.

The emotions he’d buried for so long clawed up from the depths, devouring his soul.
He pressed a trembling hand over his mouth—blood seeped between his fingers.

“Haa… haa…”

Every breath came with the stench of blood.
His body was tearing apart; his mana ripping through him violently.
The power he was using to fend off the monsters began to fade.
They noticed—and roared with glee.

“—No! Don’t—!”

A voice.

A soft, delicate voice that didn’t belong in a place like this.
The moment he heard it, Zarkal froze.

‘Huh?’

His heart thudded.
Not the wild pounding of his unstable mana—it was different.
A warm, soothing pulse spread through his chest, calming his erratic heartbeat.

What was this feeling?
Confused, he tried to steady himself.
It was unfamiliar yet comforting, like relief—like the joy of meeting someone long awaited.

Just hearing that voice filled his chest.

He didn’t even notice that his fading mana had suddenly strengthened again—
That the violent storm inside him had gone still.
Though the energy still bristled dangerously, it had stopped trying to destroy him.

‘So… this is what dying feels like?’

He gave a faint, bitter smile.
The mana that had tormented him all his life had suddenly quieted.
Maybe he was just delirious before death.

Then—

Clop, clop.

The ground trembled with the sound of hooves.

“Wait—please!”

Zarkal turned toward the voice.
A pair of vivid violet eyes caught his gaze, and a strand of silver hair, loosely tied, shimmered in the moonlight.
The moon behind her glowed so brightly it was almost blinding.

For a moment, the world seemed to hold only the two of them.
His heart pounded wildly again—this time from something else entirely.
Relief. Warmth. Something new and radiant.

She dismounted quickly and ran toward him.
Zarkal, unable to tear his gaze away, let his sword fall from his trembling hand.

As she came closer, he managed to whisper, “You are…”

“Let’s skip the introductions for now, Your Highness.”

She cut him off gently and took his hand.
Her touch was soft and warm—he flinched, but didn’t pull away.

Then—cool energy flowed from her hand into his.
The rampaging mana inside him went still.
His wounds began to close.
The chaotic power within him started to flow smoothly, harmoniously.

Zarkal stared at their joined hands, then looked up at her.

“It’s okay now,” she said softly, smiling.

He turned to face the monster charging toward him—
But the creature froze, not daring to attack.
It understood instinctively:
This was no longer prey.
The human who’d been breaking apart from his own power was gone.

Zarkal reached out his hand.
With a crack, his mana shot forward, wrapping around the monsters.

They screamed—then were shattered into dust.
The air fell silent.

The last of his sharpened mana sliced through the final beast, ending the battle.

Zarkal blinked in disbelief.
He pulled his hand from hers, still dazed.

Even having seen it with his own eyes, he couldn’t comprehend it.
There was only one being in the world capable of such a thing.

Then the woman placed a hand over her heart and bowed slightly.

“I am Yurain of Tarbargen, Your Highness. My apologies for the late introduction.”

Zarkal’s eyes widened.
Tarbargen—that was the house of the commoner Guide.
But… she couldn’t be that Guide. There was supposed to be only one in the world.
And Tarbargen supported his brother, the Crown Prince.

Before he could question it, Yurain continued—

“I’m a Guide, Your Highness. I can treat… your condition.”

Zarkal froze.

Seeing his stunned expression, Yurain smiled brightly and said,

“I’ll be your Guide.”

As she nodded, her silver hair shimmered in the moonlight.
Zarkal’s breath caught.
Did she realize what her words meant?
How impossibly sweet that salvation sounded to him?

Life without a Guide had been nothing but torment—
A burden, a curse he thought he’d carry until death.
The only Guide in the world had chosen his brother, after all.
He’d given up on ever finding peace.

But this woman… this light…

He could feel it—she truly was a Guide.

And in that instant, Zarkal felt a surge of pure, exhilarating relief.
For the first time, he could breathe.
For the first time, he thought—maybe he could live.

Then Yurain smiled again, her eyes soft and gentle.

“Then, Your Highness…” she said sweetly,

“Would you like to get engaged to me?”