In the Northwestern Region of the Empire, there was a small, humble village nestled in the mountains, where about a hundred families lived closely together. 0

Gerek, a young man from the countryside, was born and raised in this village. Their lives were modest and free from greed; they valued a day's meal more than gold and jewels, and cherished a glass of home-brewed beer with friends after a day's work in the fields more than titles or fame.1

Gerek remembered the magical tidal wave that had taken everything from him. The memory of his village being completely submerged by the flood was still fresh in his mind.0

The eternal nightmare haunted him with frenzied screams, chilling moans from those struggling in the waves, flashing lightning, thunder pounding in his chest, and the pale, lifeless skin of those who were once human.0

His village was swept away by a sudden torrent, drowning his family, neighbors, cousins, friends, and lover. The Yukline family caused this calamity under the guise of demon hunting. Everyone died, except Gerek. He was the sole survivor, clinging to a piece of straw. After that hellish night, the village was no longer a village but a lake.0

Yet, Gerek did not feel alone. Staring into the depths of the lake, he sensed a growing presence within himself. The spirits of his sister, father, mother, friends, cousins, and neighbors who had died that day now resided within him.0

The eleven personas of the family he thought he would spend his life with now resided within his body. The dam the Yuklines broke had drowned the village, but their souls continued to live inside Gerek.0

But then...0

“Tell me, was the agony of drowning bearable?”0

Deculein's voice brought back the agony of that day, stoking Gerek's fury. From deep within, he could hear the anguished cries of the...0