It wasn’t that Ascan had always wanted to destroy everything from the beginning.

Long ago, when he followed Helsion out of the laboratory, the surviving subjects of the human weapon experiment had to live in hiding because of the imperial decree ordering their deaths—but none of the lab children harbored resentment.

They were children who had already spent their entire lives imprisoned.

Even if it was merely a tiny space barely large enough to lie down in, the mere fact that they could move freely was enough to fill them with overwhelming gratitude.

—I promise you one thing. I will give you the chance to take revenge on those who made you like this.

Rather, Helsion’s words became their hope.

—Let’s make a deal. Use your abilities for me. I will become Emperor of the Karua Empire. In return, I will grant noble titles commensurate with your contributions and promise generous salaries.

Ascan didn’t fully believe Helsion’s words, but he still considered it fortunate that Helsion hadn’t cast the lab children aside.

True to his initial promise, Helsion protected the lab children from the late Emperor’s scrutiny. And in return, he constantly brought them assignments.

Though they were all teenagers at the time, they bore no grudges—they already knew they’d been saved solely for their special abilities.

……omitted……

Ascan never failed a single mission assigned by Helsion. He stained his hands with the blood of countless people for Helsion’s sake.

He didn’t necessarily think of it as repaying Helsion—but perhaps he felt he ought to at least earn his keep.

Then came that day.

As usual, Ascan completed his mission wearing a mask.

On the way back, he was accompanied by Bill and Lab Subject 968.

“Cough, cough.”

At first, hearing 968’s coughing, Ascan assumed it was just a cold. But then he noticed 968’s palm was smeared thickly with blood.

Ascan instinctively sensed something was wrong.

The lab children were not like ordinary people. They didn’t get injured or fall ill easily—so coughing up blood was simply impossible.

Ascan asked in a deliberately lowered voice.

“You… since when has it been like this?”

Suddenly, he remembered a small child who had once shared the adjacent room with him when they were young.

That child, known as Subject 1890, had also secretly coughed up blood in the middle of the night.

Most children suffering from the experiment’s side effects were like that. Those who coughed up blood disappeared from the lab shortly afterward.

But why?

They were no longer undergoing experiments.

They were carrying out missions for Helsion, yes—but they were living in a place where those horrific experiments no longer occurred. So why were side effects manifesting?

968 calmly wiped away the blood and spoke in a composed voice.

“Don’t stir up unnecessary trouble. It’s nothing serious.”

Even Bill, who rarely intervened in such matters, snapped angrily.

“Don’t talk nonsense! We’re no longer undergoing experiments—how can you say coughing up blood is nothing serious?”

As 968 said, this was clearly not a minor issue to be brushed aside.

But 968’s next words were even more shocking.

“You’ve never coughed up blood yourselves, have you?… It’s not just me. Other children who escaped the lab have also coughed up blood.”

Ascan was stunned by this revelation—he had believed no more children would die from experimental side effects.

Ascan fixed 968 with a grave gaze and said,

“Let’s go see a doctor right now.”

“Don’t say such foolish things. If a doctor examines our bodies, they’ll realize we’re not normal. Do you want us all to die together?”

“But you know as well as I do—this won’t resolve itself if we just ignore it.”

“…….”

968 fell momentarily silent. No one knew the state of their body better than they did.

“……If I’m not going to live long anyway, I might as well kill one more bastard for Lord Helsion before I go, right?”

Ascan involuntarily frowned.

The lab children trusted Helsion—but in Ascan’s eyes, Helsion was not yet worthy of that trust.

“968, after everything you endured in the lab, you still choose to believe in people? How can you say such things when you don’t even know when Helsion might stab us in the back?”

At Ascan’s words, 968—who had remained calm until now—exploded with fury.

“Ascan, don’t flatter yourself thinking you’re our leader. If you dare speak like that about Lord Helsion, I won’t forgive you, no matter who you are. He’s the one who opened a path for us to survive. I will absolutely take revenge on those who made us like this. That’s precisely why I’m still alive.”

It wasn’t just 968 who thought this way.

The surviving lab children sincerely believed in and followed Helsion.

For those who had grown up in the lab, never once experiencing hope, Helsion’s words were like salvation.

It was a conviction Ascan could not shatter. To them, Helsion was their future—their single thread of hope.

Ascan knew this couldn’t continue, but he could do nothing. Dragging them to a doctor without the others’ consent carried too great a risk.

The researchers who had overseen the experiments were all dead—there was no adult left to consult about their current condition.

As time slipped helplessly away, the surviving lab children began dying, one by one.

At first, they didn’t understand why.

‘Why, why in the world!’

Their hearts overflowed with bitter anguish, yet they didn’t know where to direct it.

Soon after, 968 withered away like a mummy. Then, blood began oozing from every orifice in their body.

Without anyone needing to say it, everyone realized 968’s time was near.

“As…can.”

At 968’s call, Ascan replied curtly, trying his hardest not to show his sorrow.

“Speak.”

“You… are, in truth, our leader, aren’t you? Even after I die, please continue serving Lord Helsion well. And… absolutely… take revenge on those who made us like this.”

“Understood.”

“Absolutely, okay? Cough, you’re promising me?”

Ascan’s throat burned as though filled with fire—he could no longer speak, and merely nodded.

It wasn’t only 968. Afterward, other surviving lab children also died from the same symptoms.

Yet throughout this, the missions Helsion assigned never ceased—and the children carried them out relentlessly, sparing no effort, caring nothing for their own lives.

Those who were dying left behind one unified message, as though bound by a shared vow:

Revenge. Take revenge on those who made us like this.

They didn’t even know whom their bitter resentment should target. All they knew was that the fury building inside their chests threatened to burst out—if they didn’t release it somewhere, they’d go mad.

Ascan could no longer endure it. He confronted Helsion directly.

“Who first conceived the human weapon experiment? Who authorized it?”

“Why ask that all of a sudden?”

“You promised us, didn’t you? That you’d let us take revenge on those who made us like this.”

Even faced with Ascan’s furious words, Helsion merely replied with a smile.

“I know. I haven’t forgotten. But now isn’t the right time. Just wait a little longer—I’ll tell you who made you like this.”

“There’s no time. The children are gradually… dying.”

Most of the children had only dreamed of escaping the lab. Yet, forced to live in hiding, they’d never properly seen the outside world.

They’d merely killed and killed again, like murder weapons, following Helsion’s orders.

They moved only at night and had never experienced human interaction.

They’d finally emerged into the outside world they’d longed for in their dreams—only to die without ever truly living.

It was no different from the hellish lab. Their range of movement had merely expanded slightly.

Yet Helsion gave the same answer again.

“Wait. I told you—now isn’t the time.”

Ascan could wait no longer. Blindly trusting Helsion alone felt increasingly dubious.

From then on, Ascan and Bill secretly began gathering information about the human weapon experiment.

They wanted to exact revenge while even one more child still lived. If they were going to die anyway, they wanted them to die having tasted the joy of vengeance fulfilled.

Moreover, though Ascan and Bill hadn’t yet coughed up blood, watching the other lab children collapse made them uncertain how long they themselves could endure.

Then, by chance, they overheard a conversation between Helsion and Carter.

“Third Prince, are you truly planning to restart the human weapon experiment?”

“Of course. You’ve seen the children’s abilities. It would be far too regrettable to bury such an experiment.”

“But they all collapse after barely holding on—can it really be worth it?”

“Those children are failures. If we had carried the human weapon experiment to completion and achieved massive success, they would have become truly powerful killing machines—just like Ascan.”

Carter frowned, seemingly displeased by the praise of Ascan, but he didn’t dare contradict Helsion’s words.

“Then shall I secretly gather orphans?”

“Not yet. Since my father halted the experiment once, I must plan even more meticulously this time. No one must interfere.”

“That will require substantial funding—I’ll begin seeking investors.”

“Good.”

Ascan felt suffocated throughout their entire conversation.

It was as shocking as being struck on the head by a heavy blunt object.

Helsion—the very person the lab children had believed without doubt to be their savior—was secretly planning to restart the human weapon experiment.

In front, he promised to help them take revenge; behind their backs, he showed not a shred of hesitation in creating more victims just like them.

It even became doubtful whether Helsion had ever genuinely intended to help them take revenge.

If he pointed to the most difficult enemy to kill and called them “the true enemy,” the lab children would have thrown themselves into the fire like moths.

Only then did Ascan realize:

How perfectly exploitable the lab children were—ignorant of the world’s ways.

The lab children followed Helsion with all their hearts—but to him, they were merely tools skilled at killing.

“Guh, gah, Hyung, how… how could you do this to us?”

Upon learning the full truth, Bill—who normally maintained a calm demeanor—burst into tears like a child.

Ascan’s heart turned cold. Thanks to that, his mind also cooled.

“……I’ve thought about it. How many people out there desire human weapons like us?”

It probably wasn’t just the Karua Empire. Other nations, lacking sufficient capability, might not have pursued it yet—but if research into human weapons became feasible, every country would likely rush to begin.

People like Ascan, Bill, and the other lab children—powerless and weak—would merely be exploited and die without ever understanding why.

That’s all their pitiful lives amounted to.

“I’ve been wondering all this time—who exactly should we take revenge on? But among the Karua Empire’s leadership, is there anyone unconnected to the human weapon experiment? Can those who knowingly turned a blind eye truly be considered different?”

“Hyung…”

“I’ve concluded we can’t end our grudge by taking revenge on just a few individuals.”

Those in power were always potential figures who could restart the human weapon experiment.

Even if they killed Helsion now, another greedy individual might revive the experiment.

“Bill, let’s destroy this entire damned world.”

They had promised the dead lab children: We will absolutely take revenge on those who made us like this.

Ascan intended to make the entire world—which had turned its back on them—pay for its sins.

He wanted everyone to taste the despair and misery they themselves had endured.

Bill wiped his tears with his sleeve and replied coldly.

“You’re right, Hyung. I wish this whole rotten world would just disappear.”

From that day onward, Ascan and Bill secretly harbored a new goal.

Hiding their claws, they steadily built power beneath Helsion. The Imperial Guard was merely a respectable facade—they had begun seizing invisible authority.

As time passed and most of the lab children had died, Ascan finally realized one truth.

“Now I understand. Why we coughed up blood.”

Around that time, Bill also began coughing. He casually wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and asked,

“Hyung, why do you think I’m like this?”

“It’s because you’ve overused your fire-summoning ability. Think about it—on days we carried out Helsion’s missions, more children coughed up blood. I can’t make a precise diagnosis, but it seems their bodies simply couldn’t withstand it.”

“Kuh, kekeke.”

Bill laughed like a madman.

“So you’re saying… because of Helsion exploiting us, our deaths came sooner.”

The unextinguishable flames were powerful—but they were like fire consuming life itself.

Ascan had never coughed up blood, but the other children were different. Had time continued like this, Bill wouldn’t have lived long either.

Ascan gripped Bill’s shoulder tightly and spoke softly.

“From now on, don’t summon fire unless it’s an emergency. Learn to fight without fire. Your body is strong—you’ll be different from ordinary people.”

“Yes, Hyung. I’ll trust only you. And even if it means dying, I don’t care—as long as we fulfill our wish.”

At those words, a lonely gleam flickered in Ascan’s eyes.

Most of the lab children were dead. Even those barely clinging to life couldn’t endure much longer.

Only Ascan and Bill remained.

“Try your best not to die. If you’re gone too, I’ll truly be left alone.”

Taken aback by the unexpected words, Bill’s ashen eyes trembled faintly.

It was as though every lab child carried within their chest an empty, hollow room.

Perhaps because they inherited those children’s wishes—among them, Ascan looked especially lonely.

Bill forced a bright tone as he spoke.

“Hyung, don’t worry. I heard there’s a magic sword called Kalspelliver—it can summon fire. Once we obtain it, neither you nor I will need to use our abilities to wield great power.”

At that, Ascan smiled faintly. He understood Bill meant to say he wouldn’t die.

“Alright. Someday, I’ll obtain that sword and give it to you.”

“No need. You keep it.”

Bill laughed along. It was enough that the meaning—“I won’t die”—had been conveyed. They couldn’t exchange any more embarrassingly sentimental words between men.

This was their private pact—to survive until they achieved their purpose.