Flas raged across the ruined field, smoke twisting into the sky like ghosts screaming into the heavens. The ground was shattered, stained with the blood of beasts and n. At the heart of the battlefield stood the four heroes — humanity’s so-called saviors — locked in battle with the one they called their enemy.
But their enemy was not a demon.
He was a man. A traitor of light. A god in armor.
High Paladin Sanctus — the holy knight blessed by the gods, draped in radiant white and gold, his helt etched with wings, and his blade alight with divine fire. The very man sent to protect the world had turned on it, declaring humanity unworthy of the gods’ blessings.
And he was slaughtering everyone.
The heroes stood ready.
"Now!" shouted Lyra, the fla mage, her crimson staff blazing with runes. Her long pink hair whipped in the scorching wind, eyes alight with rage.
Kael, the gunslinger, loaded rounds of blessed silver into his twin revolvers. "We only have one shot."
Miya, the sword mage, clenched her blade of thunder, her aura sharp like lightning. "Make it count."
Behind them, quiet and tense, stood Elian— the healer. Silver-haired. Calm-eyed. His hands glowed faintly green.
He didn’t speak.
He never needed to.
"Co," Sanctus said, voice echoing like a choir of angels, but twisted. "Let purge you properly."
With a flash, he moved.
Lyra summoned a fire shield. It shattered instantly as Sanctus crashed through, punching her across the field.
Kael fired. Sanctus spun, deflecting the bullets with his flaming blade.
Miya charged. "Lightning Crescent!"
Her blade arced — only to be caught barehanded.
With a brutal spin, Sanctus hurled her into the sky like a toy.
"Elian, now!" Lyra scread, already bleeding.
He stepped forward. Healing light burst from his palms, washing over Miya mid-air. Her bones snapped back. She landed on her feet.
And still, not a word of thanks.
Just commands. Orders.
"Support !" Kael shouted. "Hurry!"
The fight raged. The world cracked. But it was no use.
Sanctus’s blade cleaved Kael’s guns in half.
Lyra’s magic fizzled. Her arm was crushed.
Miya dropped to one knee, panting.
Elian looked around. They were breaking.
And they all turned to him.
"Elian, heal us!" Lyra scread.
Kael gritted his teeth. "You always do. Stop hesitating!"
He looked down at his hands — the sa hands they all used.
The sa body they took.
He had healed them. Fed them. Let them cross every line.
He was no longer a teammate.
Just a tool.
"No," he whispered.
Miya staggered. "What...?"
"No more," Elian said.
"Stop ssing around!" Lyra shouted. "We’ll die!"
"Then die," Elian said coldly.
"You bastard!" Kael lunged forward — only to collapse, blood spilling from his side.
Elian’s hands glowed — but not with healing. They were clenched, trembling.
Even then, even in his anger, part of him still wanted to help.
Still wanted to be needed.
He raised his hands one last ti.
Healing light poured from him — wrapping their bodies, closing their wounds.
They stood.
And ran.
No thank you. No glance back.
Just silence.
Sanctus landed before him. His golden eyes behind the helt locked onto Caelen.
"A healer," he said softly. "And yet, they abandoned you."
Elian looked up. Empty.
"They’re not worth saving," Sanctus said.
He raised his sword, now burning with divine judgnt.
Elian didn’t move.
"I’ll return," he whispered. "And I’ll burn them all."
The blade fell.
Light consud him.
Everything went black.
---
Elian floated in darkness. Weightless. Silent. Peaceful.
Then — light.
Warm and soft. He opened his eyes.
He was naked, drifting in the air of a world filled with floating islands, glowing trees, and rivers of pure light. Birds made of crystal flew through the skies. Ti felt different here — stretched and slow.
A small voice chid like a bell.
"Wake up, Elian."
He turned.
A small figure with wings hovered near him — a fairy, glowing with gold light. She had long silver hair and erald eyes, her dress woven from moonlight.
"Where... am I?" he asked.
"You’re in the Between Realm," she smiled. "You have been chosen."
"Chosen?"
"Yes. The gods watched. They saw your pain. Your loyalty. Your curse. And they offer you one more life, a chance."
She fluttered forward, touching his face.
"But this ti... with a gift."
Her lips touched his eye — the green one.
It glowed — brighter, pulsing.
His body lit up with markings, swirling with energy.
From the air, a glowing screen appeared. A System Panel — clean, clear, humming with magic.
[Essence Link System Activated]
[Welco, Elian. Missions will be assigned]
[Rewards granted]
[Level up through intimacy. Absorb skills]
[Amplify healing]
Status: Reborn
Class: Forbidden Healer
Title: The Marked hero
Elian smiled — slow, crooked.
"A gift from the gods, huh?" he whispered.
He looked at his glowing hand, then the sky.
"A second chance... and a weapon to use."
His voice dropped to a growl.
"Seems even the gods are on my side."
He started laughing. Not the soft laugh of kindness.
A dark, mad laugh — the kind that promised war.
Green light burst from his body. It roared like fire, swirling into the sky, wrapping around the realm like a storm of rebirth.
"Just you all wait. I’ll repay every scar. Every night. Every betrayal... with gratitude."
He raised his hand to the heavens.
"I will be the curse you made . I will be the storm you tried to break."
The world shook.
And so began the rebirth of Elian — a hero.
No a reckoning.
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