A hero respected by all. A power unbeatable by anyone.
Everyone once dreamed of becoming one.
But the gods' decision was destiny. No one could change it.
Not even the gods themselves.
Why?
Aren't the gods sovereign over everything?
They can even grant great power to those they choose, but can't they also revoke it?
Yes, they could. However, the price they would pay for such a decision would be considerable.
Well, that's something they must consider for themselves.
A person's life circumstances can change as easily as turning over a hand. But changing them back isn't that easy.
But is it possible?
Yes, of course it is, it depends on how the person changes it.
Everyone wants power, everyone wants to rule. Standing at the top, ruling over others is satisfying.
But what if someone already holds that position?
Of course, they should step down.
But can they let go of that desire for power?
Unfortunately, not everyone can.
So what?
Two kings can't rule over the same territory, so what if they use another territory?
Taking advantage of the desert that separates the center of the Vargoss kingdom from the Northern Forest, some people from the beastman race began to establish a black market, or what could be called the underworld.
As the name suggests, there is no light here for ordinary people.
However, for the evil, cunning, and greedy, this place is full of light.
Reon still remembers how his childhood was.
Although while living in the orphanage he was not treated very well, he did not take it to heart. He was grateful because at least he had a place to sleep and could eat decently.
Then, his life changed when he was chosen as a hero.
Everyone began to be kind to him.
Feeling the praise from people made him excited and thought there could be no evil among them.
As time went by, he actually sometimes felt there was something wrong with these people, but because they did not treat him badly, Reon ignored it.
And now in front of him were people who praised him.
Some of the orphanage caretakers who had been kind to him, the man who sometimes gave him free fruit and whom he called uncle, the old woman who gave him cookies, those he had grown up with and called friends, his parents who had returned after he was chosen by the gods.
In a basement built in such a way that no one would suspect they were in a basement.
There he saw it.
A rectangular arena, enclosed by an iron fence, resembled a large cage.
What appeared inside weren't people trapped inside. Instead, two men were fighting fiercely, their limbs being torn apart one by one.
They screamed in agony, blood pouring from their wounded bodies.
Were they fighting because they wanted to?
Were they in conflict?
Were they fighting to prove their strength?
If there were no spectators, then that was a possible explanation.
On the left was a tiger beastman, and on the right was a bull beastman.
And all around them were cheering people, throwing money.
The two fighters looked quite young, perhaps barely in their teens.
They weren't fighting of their own free will.
They simply wanted their lives back, by striving to win this fight.
Their faces were sad and desperate. They wanted to stop, but couldn't.
A closer look revealed something binding their lives, a cursed tattoo engraved on each of their arms, given by the owner of the place.
They were children sold into slavery to satisfy the spectators.
"What the hell is this..."
Among the onlookers were people he recognized.
Looking away, he saw several iron cages large enough for one person.
Thanks to his eyes blessed with the ability to see from afar, Reon could see several people and children being dragged and handed over to others who were giving money.
Among the people making the transactions was the orphanage caretaker he knew.
Looking yet another way, he saw several people gambling, sharing various betting items, and some even exchanging someone for a carton of liquor.
Among those people, he saw his parents.
People he had never hated, even though he knew they had returned because they could profit from him.
His yellow eyes blazed like fire in the midst of a fierce blizzard.
His black pupils narrowed like sharp knives.
He didn't blink.
His breathing was heavy.
His fangs grew larger and sharper.
The black fur on his body grew thicker.
His claws also became sharper.
A black aura began to envelop his body.
Black veins began to sculpt his body, all the way to his face.
His eyes no longer recognized anyone he saw.
In his eyes was only one thing.
Anger.
Reon stood there, growling, and ready to jump at any moment.
Unaware of Reon's presence earlier, everyone there was shocked by the sudden attack.
The few who survived after avoiding the attack saw him, a figure they no longer recognized.
Seeing the body of the beastman hero wolf that had become bigger and more muscular, his claws and fangs sharper than before, they were terrified.
Everyone in there tried to save themselves from the figure that looked like a rampaging monster.
His massive arms tore apart the arena that served as the people's gambling table.
His sharp claws shattered the iron cages that confined the slaves' freedom.
His sharp fangs tore into the bodies of the gamblers and alcoholics before him.
One by one, with extreme speed, blood began to gush like a fountain.
Leaving a few people trembling in fear at the sight, Reon walked towards them. There he saw several figures he remembered.
The orphanage caretaker, whom he considered an uncle, the kind old woman, his friends, and his parents. Looking at them, tears of blood flowed from Reon's eyes.
Not from sadness, not from pain.
But, regret.
Regret for having to finish them off?
Or regret for not being able to show them the right direction?
No.
A regret for having let them live, and allowing this rot to run rampant when even he was a hero who should have stopped this from happening.
Reon's sharp claws tore their bodies to shreds without a trace.
When even his parents begged him to forgive them, Reon did not stop.
A massive explosion erupted from the basement, destroying it completely.
Had Reon's anger subsided after destroying it?
No.
It was at that moment that Reon thought, did the king really not know?
But that thought didn't stop Reon from his actions.
A black fog had clouded his mind.
Only one thing was on his mind now.
Destroy everything.
The hero who was supposed to protect was now raging like a terrifying monster that destroyed everything in front of him.
Without regard for age, without regard for rank, without forgiveness.
The peaceful kingdom was now gone.
Even the head of the king of the Vargoss kingdom, famous for his strength and abilities, now hung lifeless in Reon's hands.
Did Reon really slaughter the king who knew nothing?
No.
The king knew everything too. And he even had a hand in the black market.
No one could be trusted.
No one was worth protecting.
Nothing.
Why did the gods choose him?
Why did he get this power?
Why did he feel so sad and angry?
Reon didn't know.
His blood-stained hands continued to tear apart what was in front of him.
Even though tears of blood continued to flow from his eyes, he did not stop.
In a short time the Vargoss kingdom was razed to the ground.
The hero has fallen.
He became a 'Dark Werewolf'.