A Life of Struggle and a Mont of Hope
The sound of the surroundings were drowned in by an uncomfortable silence.
He felt his existence fading into nothingness swallowing his life.
Darkness surrounded Baret.
For a mont, he felt nothing, no pain, no warmth, just emptiness.A mont ago he was fighting for his life but in the next mont, he found himself in uncanny surroundings.
Blood floated around him, tiny crimson drops staining the black void. He tried to move, but his body didn’t respond. His hands, his feet... it was as if they had disappeared. He was drifting, weightless, like a dead fish on the surface of still water.
Then, he laughed.
"Hahaha..."
"So this is it?"
"Is this how my life ends?"
"Is this the pathetic end of Baret, the worthless thief?"
As he spoke, flashes of mories surfaced in his mind.
"Is this how death feels?"
"It’s just so cruel.."Baret laughed aloud with teary eyes.
He was born to a prostitute—a woman who never wanted him. The mont she gave birth, she discarded him like trash and left for another town.
Why?
Because a child ruined a prostitute’s career. Having a baby ant losing custors, losing money and losing the way to get food.
To her, abandoning him was just survival.
Left alone, he was picked up by a bar owner. Not out of kindness, but because the man needed a kid to do dirty work. Baret grew up stealing—picking pockets, running errands, getting beaten when he failed.
He was treated like filth.
People spat on him. They kicked him when he was down. Even beggars, covered in rags, looked at him with scorn.
He hated it.
He hated his mother.
He hated the slum.
He hated the dirty scum and world for giving him such a life.
He wanted respect.More than that he wanted warmth.
He wanted fa, wealth, and recognition.
But how?
What did he need to do to earn it?
Just what...?
At the ti, he didn’t know. All he knew was that to survive, he had to do things he hated. He had to steal. He had to lie.
But then... everything changed.
---
SWISH!
A gust of wind howled through the slums, followed by a monstrous growl.
Direwolves.
They ca like a nightmare—huge, wild beasts with bloodthirsty eyes and sharp fangs. They tore through the slums, ripping apart hos, devouring people in the streets.
Baret watched in horror as the world around him turned into hell.
A mother ran, clutching her child. A wolf lunged, its fangs sinking into her back. She scread, her body jerking, but she never let go of her child. With her last strength, she tossed the baby toward a nearby man—
But before the man could catch him, another wolf pounced and shredded the baby midair. Blood was sprayed everywhere.
Baret’s stomach churned.
A little girl hid under a broken cart, trembling. She clutched a wooden doll, whispering, "Mama... save ..."
A wolf’s claw slamd down, crushing both the girl and the doll in a single stroke.
Blood pooled beneath the cart.
All around screams for help echoed around along with shrieks of agony and pain.
The sight made Baret’s heart race.He turned and ran. He ran faster than he ever had before.
People around him scread and died, but he didn’t look back. He just ran, desperate to escape.
He wanted to live.
He wanted to survive.
He had a big life ahead. He can’t die here.
Then—
CRASH!
A collapsing house sent wooden beams and debris flying. Sothing heavy slamd into Baret’s back, pinning him to the ground.
"GRHHHHH!" He groaned, struggling, trying to push himself free. But the weight crushed his legs, bolting him in place.
His breath quickened.
His heart pounded.
Then, he heard a low growling drawing closer to him.
A direwolf had noticed him.
Its glowing yellow eyes locked onto him, hunger in its gaze.
Slowly, it stepped forward, its sharp claws clicking against the stone street.
Baret’s blood ran cold.
"No... no..."
He clawed at the ground, desperate to move, to escape, but his body refused to listen.
The wolf lifted its paw, raising its claws.
Baret scread.
"SOBODY SAVE !"
He scread until his throat burned.
But no one ca.
The wolf’s claws descended.
"NOOOOOOO!"
He shut his eyes, waiting for the pain, waiting for death but...
But nothing happened.
Slowly, he cracked his eyes open.
A knight in armor stood before him, his back facing Baret.
The knight’s sword dripped with blood. A slain ddire wolf lay at his feet.
Then, the knight spoke, his voice calm and steady.
"As long as I am alive... No..."
"As long as I am breathing, no one shall be hard."
Baret’s eyes widened.
His heart stirred.
His breath caught in his throat.
For the first ti in his miserable life, he felt sothing other than fear.
He felt hope.
That mont... that one sentence burned itself into his soul.
He wanted to be like this man.
He wanted to be a knight.
He wanted to be strong.
He wanted to protect.
He wanted to be recognized.
But now...
He floated in darkness.
A failure.
A worthless thief who died with no pride, no honor.
Tears welled in his eyes.
"I’m dead..." he whispered.
"I died worthless, without a shred of valor..."
Then!
A voice bood through the darkness.
"Which mother fucker told you that you’re dead?!"
Baret’s body jerked. His eyes snapped open.
A scream escaped his lips, loud and sharp.
"I said, WHO SAID YOU’RE DEAD?!"
"Didn’t you want to shine?"
"Didn’t you want to get fa?"
"Open your eyes BARET!"
His vision cleared.
Before him stood a thin, frail figure.
A boy no, a man who once was nothing.
A pathetic weakling.
A piece of trash.
Soone that even the cleaners of the estate looked down upon him.
A useless fool who wasn’t even fit to be called a warrior.
But now... that sa pathetic boy stood tall, a sword in hand, facing enemies without fear.
He stood like an unshakable mountain.
A steady shoulder that seed to carry a huge weight yet remained unyielding.
Baret’s heart pounded.
The sight lit a fire inside him.
It was more than confidence.
It was more than admiration.
It was hope.
Hope to be unyielding.
Hope to stand tall.
Hope to fight for the man.
Unbeknownst to him, a change took place in his heart.
A change is gonna make him recognized all over the world for the years to co.
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