The smoke rose in the distance.

  I ran toward it, the screams echoing beyond the outer palace walls. The night was thinning, and stars had begun to pierce through the dark.

  Baekho followed behind me, limping—his wounds far from healed.

  When I opened the gate, my eyes locked on fire. A towering inferno scorched the horizon, and in the center of it stood something unreal—

  A monster. Something pulled from fantasy.

  There was no such thing in my world, but this world had made it real.

  With one roar, buildings faltered.

  With one inhale, the flames vanished.

  With one exhale, they returned.

  Daeyoung and his four friends came rushing toward me.

  “Wangja-Mama! What should we do?”

  “Evacuate everyone in the village,” I ordered. “Get them away from the flames.”

  They obeyed without hesitation, running into the smoke.

  Baekho handed me my spear, eyes heavy.

  “Please, agissi… don’t leave us. You’re our only hope,” he said in a low tone, then turned back to the palace.

  The monster stood six feet tall, but its presence made the world feel smaller.

  Its body looked like molten obsidian—glowing with veins of red fire. Muscular. Towering. Its eyes were dark and regal, locked onto me with burning hatred. Its mouth hung open, saliva dripping like lava, as if it were ready to destroy anything in front of it.

  It vanished in a flash. Then reappeared—right in front of me.

  One punch sent me flying through the air.

  It was the first time since coming into this world that my body truly broke.

  The monster appeared again, grabbed my foot, and swung me like a ragdoll. It threw me nearly a hundred feet away.

  Ash rained from the sky as I lay in burning wood and smoke. My robe had been burned off. My skin blistered.

  Still, I stood up.

  “I fear no man, no monster… but God.”

  “For with God, nothing shall be impossible.Luke 1:37” (KJV)

  I rushed forward.

  My senses—beyond human—activated with pure adrenaline.

  Every strike had precision.

  Every punch had purpose.

  But I couldn’t get close. The monster was too tall. Its punches too fast. A human wouldn’t have even seen them before dying.

  I ducked, launched upward, and struck its chin with everything I had. It smirked, spat lava, and laughed.

  Chains formed around its arms—glowing, burning, alive.

  With one swing, it sent me flying backward again. The shockwave destroyed everything behind me.

  It pulled me back with its chains and pummeled me again and again.

  The only thought that kept me conscious—

  My family.

  I broke free, grabbed my spear—but before I could strike, it melted in my hands.

  I tried again. I stabbed with the broken shaft, but it never reached its flesh. The heat was too great.

  The monster grabbed me by the neck and threw me across the battlefield, laughing as my body bounced against stone.

  I had never been pushed this far.

  I could barely breathe.

  But I got back up.

  It growled—no longer amused.

  Then it breathed fire. I dodged. Barely.

  It came faster now. It grabbed my foot again. Swung me harder. Slammed me into the earth.

  It threw me through the palace gate.

  That’s when I saw him—

  My father.

  “My adeura!” he shouted. “Are you okay?!”

  He looked at the creature, stunned. Like he had seen something from myth.

  The palace guards charged. One by one, they turned to ash.

  My father dashed in—

  But one roar from the monster sent him flying into the palace wall. He didn’t get back up.

  My second chance… was slipping.

  The monster turned to me. It laughed. Mocked me.

  I stood, blood dripping from my mouth.

  It struck again—into my gut—sending me crashing through the palace wall.

  I heard a voice through the chaos.

  “Jinseo-ya… my boy!”

  My Eomeoni…

  “Don’t come any closer! Get away!” I shouted, but the monster noticed her.

  With a single whip of its chain, it struck the ground.

  A shockwave blasted her back into the palace.

  Rage overtook me.

  I shouted to Baekho.

  “Get everyone to safety!”

  The monster and I clashed once more.

  The sound of our blows cracked the air. The ground trembled. Buildings collapsed.

  It got faster.

  But so did I.

  I crouched, kicked upward, and uppercut the beast with everything I had. This time, it didn’t laugh.

  It staggered.

  I grabbed its leg, spun it like it had done to me, and drove my fists into its face.

  And it bled.

  Its armor cracked. It coughed up molten blood.

  I grabbed the chains it had created—wrapped them around my arms. They burned, but I held on.

  I pummeled the monster again and again, until it roared.

  We clashed one last time.

  Shockwaves erupted with every punch.

  The monster raised both fists to crush me. I jumped back.

  Then I dashed forward—faster than ever—and appeared beneath it.

  I struck.

  My fist pierced through its chest.

  The monster collapsed.

  Dead.

  I stepped onto its body and let out a cry that echoed through the flames.

  Joon stumbled out from behind debris, crying.

  “Who are you, Wangja-Mama?!”

  “Son of God, boy,” I answered.

  I lifted the monster’s corpse by the throat—punched it skyward.

  It burst into flames.

  Shards rained from the sky, scattering across the world.

  I dropped to one knee, exhausted. My body couldn’t take much more.

  But it wasn’t over.

  Figures stepped from the fire.

  Bandits.

  But no longer human.

  Their skin glowed red. Their eyes burned.

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  They had absorbed the monster’s power.

  “Step back,” I told Joon.

  They rushed me, faster than anything I had fought before.

  But I wasn’t just a boy anymore.

  I unleashed my new weapon—the burning chain. It spun like flame around my arm.

  I roared.

  Swung it once.

  The first bandit’s skull burst like a bubble. The ground cracked beneath him.

  Two more came for me. Two charged at Joon.

  I grabbed the first pair by their throats and crushed them.

  Then I spun the chain—cutting the others in half.

  Ash fell.

  And then… silence.

  Darkness took me.

  I collapsed in the street.

  Joon’s POV

  The ground was still shaking.

  Smoke curled into the sky like it was trying to escape the horror we just witnessed.

  Burning wood crackled behind me. The heat made it hard to breathe.

  I stayed hidden — half-buried under what was left of a cart.

  My arms trembled. My face was wet.

  I didn’t know if it was sweat… or tears.

  And then—

  Silence.

  No more roars. No more screams.

  Only the sound of something massive crashing into the earth.

  I crawled out, knees scraping against broken stone and ash.

  And I saw him.

  Jinseo.

  Lying at the center of it all.

  Surrounded by shattered bricks and glowing embers.

  His robe was torn. Blood ran down from his mouth.

  One of his eyes was swollen shut.

  But he was breathing.

  Barely.

  The monster was gone.

  Nothing remained but ash… scattered like snow.

  I didn’t know how he did it.

  I didn’t even know what he did.

  But I saw him.

  I saw him stand alone.

  Take every blow.

  Face every roar.

  And never run.

  I moved toward him, each step heavier than the last. Fear gripped my throat.

  What if he didn’t wake up?

  What if he—

  He coughed.

  Not much. Just a flicker of life.

  But it was enough to make my knees buckle.

  I dropped beside him. Dirt smeared my hands.

  “Jinseo… Wangja-Mama…”

  I didn’t know what to call him anymore.

  He wasn’t just a prince.

  He felt like the only thing keeping this world from crumbling.

  I reached out with shaking fingers, brushing his sleeve.

  His skin burned with fever.

  His lips moved, whispering something I couldn’t hear.

  “I’m here,” I said softly. “I’m right here.”

  I didn’t notice the footsteps behind me until a hand touched my shoulder.

  I turned—flinching.

  It was Daeyoung.

  His face was pale, smeared with ash.

  Behind him, Minjae, Sungho, Jisoo, and Harin ran with a makeshift stretcher.

  Seo Haneul, the doctor, followed with urgency in every step.

  “Joon!” Daeyoung gasped. “Where is he?”

  I pointed.

  They dropped to their knees beside Jinseo.

  Haneul’s hands moved fast, checking his pulse, scanning wounds.

  “He’s alive,” he said. “Barely. But alive.”

  My chest loosened.

  “Help me lift him,” Haneul ordered.

  The boys obeyed instantly.

  I helped too. I wasn’t strong like them.

  But I would not let them carry him alone.

  We placed Jinseo on the stretcher.

  His head tilted to the side, bruised and bloodied—

  But peaceful.

  Like someone who had won.

  “You’re coming with us,” Daeyoung said.

  I nodded.

  We carried him through the broken streets.

  Past flames, rubble, and ash.

  As we walked, villagers peeked out from hiding.

  Some gasped.

  Some fell to their knees.

  One old man whispered, “The boy… he protected us.”

  No one called him “Your Highness.”

  They looked at him like something sacred.

  Like a shield that had bled to keep them safe.

  Jang (The Blacksmith) – POV

  The heat hadn’t left the air.

  Even after the fire died down and the beast was gone, the ground still smoldered. My forge—what was left of it—stood blackened, half-eaten by flame. I hammered nails into splintered wood with a hand that wouldn’t stop shaking.

  “We rebuild,” I muttered.

  Not because it would bring back what was lost—

  But because he did.

  From across the ash-covered field, I saw them.

  Six boys.

  One stretcher.

  And him.

  Wangja-Mama.

  Covered in blood. Barely breathing. A ghost of the boy I last saw full of fire.

  “Gods…” I whispered. “He’s just a child.”

  But even broken, he looked like he had won.

  Even dying, he looked like he had protected us all.

  Beside me, Han stood still. He didn’t speak. Just stared.

  Han (The Carpenter) – POV

  I didn’t know how to pray.

  But my hands folded anyway.

  “That little prince… he made us tools when we couldn’t afford them,” I said quietly.

  “He gave us coin… when no one else remembered our names.”

  I remembered the spear I helped deliver.

  I remembered his voice when he said, “This will help my people.”

  And now, he looked like he gave everything.

  I stepped forward, watching the stretcher vanish into the palace walls.

  “Jang,” I said, barely able to speak. “When that boy wakes up…”

  He looked at me. “Yeah?”

  I swallowed hard.

  “We build him a throne.”

  Kim Dalsu – POV

  The fields were quiet.

  Not peaceful — quiet in the way that follows thunder.

  Ash still floated down from the hills like black snow, landing on stalks that hadn’t yet bloomed.

  I stood beside the edge of the rice field, hoe in hand, but I wasn’t working. Not really.

  How could I, after what I saw?

  They said the prince fought it.

  Alone.

  A creature of fire, built like a nightmare. A beast that swallowed flames and spat death.

  They said he didn’t run.

  They said he roared back.

  I didn’t see the fight, but I saw the sky.

  Saw the clouds light up red.

  Heard the roar that cracked the heavens.

  And when I saw him carried through the village gates — broken, bleeding, barely breathing…

  I couldn’t look away.

  That boy, that prince…

  The same one who fixed our plows, shared stories with our children, passed out coin like it meant nothing to him—

  He nearly died for us.

  Not for war.

  Not for glory.

  But for us.

  I took off my straw hat, pressing it to my chest.

  “You were never just a prince to us, Jinseo-ya,” I whispered.

  “You were our hope in the mud. And now… you’re our sun above the ash.”

  Hana – POV

  I had never seen so much blood.

  He wasn’t supposed to be like this.

  He was the prince — the one who smiled and snuck rice buns to us when no one was looking. The one who talked to me like I wasn’t invisible.

  Now… he wasn’t moving.

  I stood behind the pillar, biting my lip, my hands shaking.

  I didn’t want anyone to see me cry.

  “Why would he fight a monster for us?” I thought.

  “Why would anyone?”

  He looked so small on that stretcher.

  But also… bigger than anything I’d ever seen.

  I think I started to love him right there.

  Not like in stories. Not yet.

  But the kind of love where I knew,

  I’d follow him anywhere.

  Yura – POV

  I didn’t understand all the words the guards were saying.

  Just the look on their faces.

  Fear.

  A kind I hadn’t seen before.

  And then I saw him.

  Wangja-Mama.

  He was supposed to be the strong one. The clever one. The one who helped us lift water buckets when the others didn’t bother.

  Now he was quiet. Pale.

  A trail of blood marked where they carried him.

  I hid behind the curtains and whispered a prayer I didn’t know I remembered.

  “Please… don’t take him. Not him.”

  Something inside me said this wasn’t the end.

  But it was the beginning.

  Mirae – POV

  I wanted to scream.

  Not because I was scared.

  But because I didn’t know what else to do.

  I peeked around the corner.

  Everyone was silent — even the birds outside had gone quiet.

  Jinseo looked like he was sleeping.

  But not in the way that makes you feel safe.

  In the way that made my chest hurt.

  He had told us a story just a few days ago.

  About stars and swords and second chances.

  And now he looked like someone who had used all of his.

  I didn’t know much about princes.

  But I knew this:

  He made me feel like my voice mattered.

  And I never wanted to lose that.

  Queen Gyeonghwa’s POV

  The palace was too quiet.

  When the guards first whispered of fire beyond the walls…

  I knew.

  When the wind carried the scent of ash through the halls…

  I felt it.

  Mothers always do.

  I stood in the main hall, hands trembling.

  I prayed — not with words, but with silence.

  And then—

  The doors opened.

  The scent hit first.

  Smoke. Ash. Blood.

  Then the boys entered, carrying something.

  No.

  Someone.

  “Jinseo-YA.”

  I ran before I even realized it.

  My son.

  His robes torn. His lips bloodied. His small hands covered in soot and wounds.

  He looked like a child who had wandered too close to the fire.

  But when I knelt beside him, I saw it—

  The faintest smile.

  He wasn’t broken.

  He was branded.

  Branded by battle. By the cost. By the crown.

  “What did they make you carry, my son…”

  I brushed the hair from his face and kissed his forehead, careful not to hurt him.

  “You were supposed to sleep in today,” I whispered.

  The boys stood in silence. Even the doctor looked away.

  I didn’t cry.

  There were no tears left.

  I reached for his hand — still warm. Still trembling with life.

  And I held it like I was holding a piece of the sun.

  “Jinseo-ya…” I breathed.

  “My sweet Uri aegi… what more must you endure?”

  I laid him down gently.

  The room was filled with sorrow.

  Everything was still. Even time seemed to pause.

  I rested beside him, whispering through the tears drying on my cheeks.

  Eomeoni’s Lullaby

  Since the day

  You were born

  You are mine

  You’re my son

  You are mine

  My little sun

  Rest well, my little Jinseo-ya

  Mom is right here

  And I’ll be here

  When you woke up.