On the night Arthur died, Asmodeus learned the truth.
He came from a cursed bloodline.
A family that wielded dark techniques.
Because of his family, he had been imprisoned here.
This world had never wanted him.
And now… And the world that had abandoned him…
was about to pay the price.
---
The Erased World
Once, this world was filled with heroes.
Kings ruled with justice, and swords were drawn to protect the innocent.
Magic was not something to be feared—it was a natural part of life.
But the Church feared magic.
They wanted control.
The desire for control gave birth to fear.
Fear fed belief.
And belief created the Church.
The Church claimed to speak in the name of the gods.
In truth, what it did was purge everything it saw as a threat to the world.
And it had its methods.
Centuries ago, the Church sealed away the most terrifying existence this world had ever known—the Demon King.
The first Pope, Jesus, joined forces with the demon kings themselves and sealed him at the deepest point of this forest.
From that day on, the Church gradually became corrupted.
They no longer lived for the good of humanity, but solely to preserve their own power.
There was a place not marked on any map, a name never spoken aloud.
The Cursed Forest.
This forest did not belong to the Church.
It was not holy.
It was the home of the ancients—
creatures that existed before humanity, accustomed to blood and fear.
The Church could not destroy this forest.
So they chose to use it.
Those who were marked were brought here.
Babies who carried magic.
Bloodlines deemed dangerous.
Those who refused to obey.
In official records, it was called exile.
In truth…
it was abandonment with no return.
---
One day, a man pulled a sword from stone.
That sword granted him the power to rule.
With that power, he founded the great kingdom of Camelot.
That man was King Arthur, whose name lived on in legends.
But the Church feared his power to the point of obsession.
They declared a holy war.
And in that war, it was said that Arthur was defeated.
The truth was different.
Arthur had been betrayed—
by those closest to him.
Arthur was the last king of Britannia.
His people did not overthrow him.
His army did not sell him out.
But to the Church, Arthur was a symbol.
And if a symbol lived, hope lived with it.
On the night Camelot fell, the sky was sealed with holy sigils.
Sacred knights flooded the city.
Arthur drew Excalibur.
He fought alone.
But this was not a battle.
It was a carefully prepared execution.
When the temple magic was completed, the ground collapsed.
Light was swallowed.
Arthur did not die.
But he was cast out of this world.
---
Arthur opened his eyes on a bed of rotting leaves.
His armor was shattered.
Excalibur was cracked.
This ancient forest… was breathing.
The first attack did not take long.
Creatures of blood and bone emerged.
Shapeless beings crawled from the shadows.
Things whispering in human voices drew closer.
Arthur raised his sword.
Light tore through the darkness.
But every strike took something from his body.
At that moment…
A baby's cry echoed through the forest.
The baby had been left at the very heart of the forest.
A mark of the Church was carved upon him.
Arthur recognized that mark.
It meant: never to return.
And only one family bore that mark.
The Black Sword Family.
A lineage so powerful that the Church had once barely managed to eradicate them with all its might.
And yet…
one heir had survived.
The creatures closed in on the child.
Arthur did not hesitate.
He swung his sword.
Light exploded.
Shadows scattered.
When he lifted the baby into his arms, he felt it.
Something lived within him.
Raw.
Uncontrolled.
But alive.
Arthur made his decision in that moment.
This child would not die here.
He gave the child a name.
Asmodeus.
Arthur accepted the child as his son.
Before falling into this forest, Arthur had already had two children—
children he had never truly cared for.
Perhaps this was how he eased his conscience.
---
The early years were spent simply surviving.
Arthur carried him on his back.
He fought monsters at night.
Tended wounds by day.
When Asmodeus learned to walk, the forest attacked.
When he learned to run, ambushes began.
Arthur taught him survival before the sword.
How to move silently.
How to distinguish the smell of blood.
How not to freeze in fear.
One night, the creatures came as a horde.
Arthur stood in front.
Asmodeus stayed behind.
When a shadow reached for Asmodeus, Arthur stepped in with his sword.
But he was too slow.
Asmodeus screamed for the first time.
That night, Arthur panicked for the first time.
From that day on, everything changed.
Arthur gave Asmodeus a sword.
It was heavy.
But it was real.
Years passed.
The first time Asmodeus fell, his hands were torn and bleeding.
Arthur did not help him up.
"Get up yourself."
The first time he wounded a creature, his hand trembled.
Arthur did not shout.
"Continue."
The first time he killed, Asmodeus collapsed, vomiting onto the ground.
Arthur stood silently beside him.
"You'll get used to it," he said.
"If you don't, you'll die."
This harshness was not hatred.
It was protection.
---
Bond
Years passed.
Asmodeus grew stronger.
Arthur grew slower.
One night, Asmodeus asked:
"Why couldn't you abandon me?"
Arthur did not answer.
When a creature attacked, Arthur stepped in front of him.
In that moment, Asmodeus understood.
Arthur did not see him as fate—
but as responsibility.
And for that responsibility, he was ready to die.
That night, the forest stirred again.
A massive, sentient serpent attacked the place where they lived.
An ancient being sealed here since primordial times, its power restrained.
Arthur could barely stand due to age.
"Get behind me, Asmodeus," he said.
For the last time, he drew his sword.
Before he could strike, the serpent retreated.
It understood.
Arthur was not an opponent it could face.
Normally, it would never have approached this place.
But the great king of Camelot was growing old.
Yet he still had days left to live—
and lessons left to teach.
---
One year later, Arthur called Asmodeus to his side.
For the first time, at this hour.
Asmodeus grew suspicious.
Arthur sat by the fire.
The flames deepened the lines on his face.
"Come… sit."
Asmodeus hesitated.
Arthur never called him at this hour.
"Did something happen?"
Arthur was silent for a moment.
He stared into the fire, then gripped the hilt of his sword.
"Time passes.
A person starts to notice."
"What do you mean?"
Arthur smiled faintly.
But it was a tired smile.
"When I was a king… when Camelot still stood…
this forest was nothing more than a legend to me."
Asmodeus remained silent.
Arthur was speaking of his past for the first time.
"My strength is fading, Asmodeus.
I lift my sword more slowly.
My breath runs out faster."
"Don't worry about that. I'm here."
Arthur shook his head.
"That's exactly why I'm talking to you.
I still have days left to live.
And things I must tell you."
"What will you tell me?"
Arthur took a deep breath.
"Who I am.
Where I came from.
And why I didn't leave you in that forest."
"You already saved me."
Arthur met his eyes.
"No.
I didn't save you.
I saved myself."
"Why?"
"Because if I had left you there…
I would have died that night as well."
Silence fell.
"Did you see me as a duty?"
"Perhaps as guilt.
Or as a debt for what this world did to you."
After a long silence, Asmodeus whispered:
"Do you regret it?"
"No.
But I know my time is running out."
"Then tell me.
Everything."
Arthur closed his eyes.
And for the first time…
he told his past.
"Those who attacked me were not enemies."
"The Church?"
"No.
My own men."
"Why?"
"Because they were afraid.
The Church offered them survival."
"The kingdom was gone.
Faith had changed.
And I had become a burden."
"What about your sons?"
"I had two sons."
"Had?"
"I was never their father.
I was their king."
"Didn't you love them?"
"I did.
But I never showed it."
"Then the kingdom fell.
And they disappeared."
"Did they kill them?"
"I don't know.
And that… is the heaviest punishment."
"Did you replace them with me?"
"Maybe.
Maybe I just wanted to silence my conscience."
"Is that wrong?"
"No.
But it is selfish."
"You raised me.
You didn't leave me."
"Because I didn't want to run anymore."
"Then choosing me wasn't denying them."
"No.
It was a late attempt at atonement."
The fire was nearly out.
"If I don't wake up tomorrow…
leave this forest.
You can't survive here alone.
If you make it out, go to Camelot.
Lancelot will guide you.
And never forgive me."
"I won't."
"Because what you gave me…
I will try to give to them."
Arthur closed his eyes.
That was all he needed to hear.
---
The next morning, Arthur did not wake up.
Asmodeus stared at him through tears.
But there was no time to mourn.
The moment Arthur's presence vanished,
the creatures surrounded the cabin.
BAM!
The door was smashed open.
Asmodeus's first great trial had begun.