My Grandpa Was a Damn Genius!

The Herfrieden Massacre

The Holy War—a catastrophe that began fifty years ago and left not a single soul untouched.

That era came to be known as the "Years of Stagnation," a time when all progress and prosperity ground to a halt. Halls of science were torched, farmers abandoned their fields, and livestock fled to the corners of the world, driven by an instinctive fear of war’s horrors.

No nation escaped the devastation. Fourteen kingdoms clashed, turning the world into one grand battlefield. The suffering was so vast that even minor noble houses were reduced to the same miserable state as the common folk—homeless, starving, and forgotten. The dead numbered in the millions. According to the Stalefort Academy’s war census, ten entire kingdoms were wiped from the map. Over 75% of the global population perished, and the remaining 20% were displaced. Only the top 5% of high-ranking nobles and royal families emerged relatively unscathed, their lives barely touched by the carnage.

The world did, eventually, rebuild—faster and more fiercely than anyone expected. But those who survived would never forget the horrors, especially the nightmare known as The Herfrieden Massacre.

It began midway through the Holy War, within one of the strongest of the fourteen kingdoms—Verein. Back then, Verein boasted a terrifying military force, with brutal soldiers and genius tacticians. It bulldozed through enemy forces with ruthless efficiency, suffering minimal losses in return. Victory followed victory, making the rest of the world feel like mere pawns in Verein’s game.

But in every war, alliances form—fragile pacts born of desperation. Kingdoms and clans would trade anything for survival. Sometimes, it was defense strategies. Sometimes, it was food. More often, it was prisoners in exchange for basic supplies.

As food became scarce, hoarding became the new religion. The fear of a hungry army—or worse, a starving nobility—led to dangerous paranoia. No one, of course, cared to hoard food for the common folk. The shared policy across most kingdoms was simple: nobles eat first. Whatever was left would be stored for later. Whatever couldn't be stored? Thrown—literally—to the soldiers.

Take the soldiers of the brutal Kingdom of Arinalds. Nobles would dine at sturdy tables with mediocre meals, while soldiers—those below commander rank—would wait like stray dogs. Eventually, a noble would arrive on a cart loaded with leftover slop, sometimes already swarmed by flies. Without even entering the camp, he'd dump the mess on the ground and leave with a look of utter disgust.

Still, no one complained. Even if it was barely edible. Even if they were treated like pawns on a board that no one cared to clean.

Why endure it? Simple. As every smug noble would say: "They don’t have a choice. They either rot with a half-full belly—or rot while starving."

And even if they survived the starvation or enemy blades, the spoiled food would do the job.

Not all kingdoms were the same, of course. But twelve out of the fourteen suffered similar fates—hunger, poverty, internal rebellion. Some didn’t even get to fight in the war, too busy devouring each other in the chaos of famine. Yes—literally. Cannibalism wasn’t a tale. It was survival.

That’s why alliances—small or large—became the only thread keeping civilization from total collapse.

The most infamous of those was the Triple Alliance: Istra, home to the demonic warlords; Shurans, lair of strategic masterminds; and Verein, possessing both strength and wit.

What made this alliance terrifying wasn’t just their competence—it was their numbers. Each kingdom had at least 200,000 soldiers. Istra alone had 320,000. For comparison, most kingdoms couldn’t even muster 120,000.

“320,000?! Why didn’t they just win the war outright?” one might ask.

Because numbers weren’t everything.

Shurans lacked magical clans, leaving most of its army as glorified tin cans—armor-clad brutes with mediocre weapons and only a few high-level mages. On the other hand, a small kingdom with only 80,000 soldiers had support from the Ryujin Clan—Lords of the Sea. Even the weakest among them could summon water from nothing and drown entire villages.

So Shurans, unable to brute-force their way to victory, fell back on strategy. Their king, realizing that famine and internal collapse loomed, joined the Triple Alliance to pivot from defense to offense.

With all three powers united, their forces swelled to a terrifying 850,000 soldiers. The world trembled. Their warpath consumed everything, their generals sharper than blades.

The kings’ plan? Wipe out the rest of the kingdoms. Split the spoils. Rule the world.

The idea came from King Hersley of Verein. His council—advisors and priests—agreed. But his son, Liam, opposed it bitterly. He despised demons. Hated non-humans. Called them “tainted blood” and refused to even touch them. He planned to exterminate them all.

In truth, the world wasn’t just humans and demons. Elves, dwarves, vampires, beastkin, dragons—even angels and devils—all existed. Crossbreeding birthed new races: half-elves, half-beasts, winged hybrids with traits from both parents.

But Liam didn’t care. In his eyes, humans were the only pure species, the only ones worthy of ruling.

His reason for rejecting the alliance was simple: he didn’t want a non-human ruling a land where humans lived.

Yet, despite his opposition—and despite his attempts to change his father’s mind—the treaty was signed. The armies merged under three banners, each led by a general from the respective kingdoms.

They swept through the continent like a flood. One kingdom after another fell, until only six remained.

Everything was perfect. Too perfect.

They were rich with spoils. Swimming in resources. The kings threw grand feasts in anticipation of a world ruled by their alliance.

The only issue? Their numbers had shrunk. From 850,000 soldiers... to just 300,000.

Still, who cared? Even if only one soldier remained, if the world was theirs—it would be worth it.

And just as the world seemed ready to kneel before them...

Liam made his move.

On one particular evening, accompanied by his father, Liam invited a group of strangers into the royal palace. He promised them glory and riches in exchange for assassinating his father—the king—on the condition that once he ascended the throne, they'd be rewarded. And just like that, the deed was done. The king was successfully assassinated, and Liam was crowned as the new ruler, being the rightful heir and the king’s only son.

Of course, Liam never planned to keep his end of the deal. Instead of rewarding the assassins, he had them hanged to ensure they wouldn’t speak a word of the pact they made. Rather than riches, he gave them hell.

As for the war—unlike the kingdoms of Istra and Shurans—Verein didn’t suffer many losses. Only about ten thousand soldiers were killed due to most of their army being stationed further back, in preparation to defend the other kingdoms in case of an unexpected attack. The bulk of the losses were borne by Shurans, whose once-mighty army was left in shambles.

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Liam took advantage of Shurans' weakened state and launched a direct attack on their capital. With few troops left and no one expecting betrayal of this scale, the capital was wiped out, and the king—along with his guards and everyone close—was slaughtered.

In retaliation, the King of Istra—the demon Barbatos—dispatched his entire army toward Shurans’ capital, now heavily fortified. Despite knowing his troops couldn’t compare to Liam’s, he pressed on.

Blinded by rage and a thirst for revenge against the one who shattered his plan to rule the world, Barbatos charged forward. His victory had been all but assured. In truth, the demon king Barbatos had planned to betray the King of Verein after the war, assassinate him, and take over his kingdom. After all, he had no real reason to honor the alliance. His army was filled with powerful mages and elite soldiers. But he wanted the war to end quickly, and when Verein's king proposed an alliance, a dark idea sparked in Barbatos’ mind—to betray them all and seize the world for himself.

But alas, Barbatos… the king you planned to stab in the back was already assassinated by his own son, and your plans were left in ruins.

Still, Barbatos wasn’t done. He launched a full invasion toward Liam, convinced that Liam had no chance of stopping him, given the difference in power.

But then… something happened. Something no one expected.

As if he had predicted Barbatos' every move—as if the entire battlefield were his chessboard—Liam had already formed a secret alliance with the kingdom of Viaris. And fighting alongside Viaris was none other than the Amaterasu Clan, masters of fire and one of the Six Great Clans.

While Verein’s army battled against Istra’s, Viaris launched a surprise attack on Istra’s capital, Herfrieden, using the devastating might of the Amaterasu to assassinate King Barbatos.

That moonless night, at the dead of midnight, the citizens of Herfrieden felt an unnatural heat in the air. Sweat poured down their bodies for no reason. Children screamed. Dogs barked. Fires began erupting in homes and fields—no cause, no explanation. And then… they saw it.

A blinding, colossal sun appeared above the city. A searing orb of flame formed from the combined magic of every single Amaterasu warrior. It was one of their legendary joint techniques—known as "The Final Sunset."

And true to its name, when King Barbatos rushed from his chambers, eyes wide with horror at the sight of the fireball far greater than the real sun… he knew. That was the end—for him, and for his people.

Seconds later, a violent tremor rippled through the lands—one that even Liam felt from his palace. The temperature spiked to unimaginable levels, melting everything around the capital. Mountains, forests… all gone. Everything within a 20-kilometer radius was incinerated. The capital of Herfrieden was no more.

And today, that scorched ruin is known as the Barbatos Desert, located in modern-day Luthiria.

---

Back in Stalefort Academy.

Everyone had just witnessed the match between Alice and Leo. While no strong emotions were clearly shown on their faces, you could see a variety of subtle reactions—smiles, light astonishment, mild disbelief.

They all acknowledged Alice’s terrifying power. She was from that clan, after all. No one had expected anyone to match her in battle. The most surprising part was Leo’s final move.

Some had never seen a technique like that before. Others were shocked by its impact—especially the aftermath on Alice’s arm.

On the other side, Shin didn’t show much emotion. Instead, he turned to the person sitting beside him and asked:

"Was that what you meant, Gild?"

He was referring to Gild's earlier comment—that Leo’s remaining strength might be a hidden skill or special ability. Now that Shin had seen it for himself, he was curious about Gild’s reaction.

"Yeeah... but come on, that’s a bit much even for Alice, right?"

Gild scratched his head, still clearly shaken.

He was the kind of guy whose face could go from laughter to panic in a heartbeat. But no one could blame him—what they had just witnessed was a technique you might see only once in your entire life.

Unless, of course, you’ve lived through the Holy War.

"Heaven's Technique… a demonic-class skill only the elite can master and use freely. It’s dangerous to both the body and life of the user. The issue isn’t that he used it… but how he controlled the Nerve. The way he gathered and contained that much power... that’s impressive."

Shin praised Leo’s control over a skill that could’ve easily backfired. When he mentioned the “Nerve,” Gild’s ears perked up.

"The Nerve, huh... yeah. Those floating particles in the air. Who would’ve thought they were an infinite power source? While an ordinary mage might need half a day to recover their mana, a Nerve user doesn’t need to wait. They can just absorb energy from those particles around them. But like they say—great power comes with greater problems. Overusing the Nerve can kill you. The pure particles become unstable. A regular human body can’t handle that kind of purity. It causes internal breakdowns, even death. And not just anyone can use the Nerve. Only certain bloodlines—and an elite few among them."

Shin wasn’t surprised by Gild’s knowledge. That’s just how things were. Gild was a top-tier analyst, skilled at spotting weaknesses. Meanwhile, Shin was like an ancient library—he knew everything about magic, its origins, and all its branches.

But unlike Gild, Shin didn’t ramble. He wouldn’t share knowledge unless asked.

And even then, maybe not—depending on how you asked.

"Anyway, four days left until the exam ends. Looks like we’re in for some surprises. This year’s students are full of talent. I’m really looking forward to what’s next!"

Gild stood from his seat, clearly excited.

Shin didn’t give him much attention. He looked like he was done for the day.

"Shin? Where are you going?"

"Office. That’s enough for today. I’ll come back tomorrow to watch the rest."

Showing he’d had his fill of action, Shin turned to leave. Gild tried to stop him.

"Wait—You’re gonna skip all this fun?! Come on, there might be another crazy fight with some insane—"

"Watch it yourself. Fill me in later. I’m out."

Before Gild could say another word, Shin was already gone. His silhouette vanished from the instructor’s room.

"Haaah… Shin, as always… But hey! That just means I can focus even more on the awesome stuff that’s about to go down!"

With the excitement of a kid opening a new toy, Gild’s eyes sparkled as he focused on the screen ahead.

---

~ Three Days Later

Three days had passed since the Forest Test began.

None of Gild's predictions came true—if anything, the complete opposite happened. The only thing that did come true was what the instructors said: Alice was dominating the leaderboard.

Right next to the crystal orb that let the proctors observe the test in real time, a massive board displayed the names of every participant along with the number of badges they'd earned. And unsurprisingly, Alice was far ahead—her badge count towering over second place like a mountain.

But with over 300 participants still in the game, there was always a chance for someone to make a comeback. Even with just one day left, if your luck was good enough, you could rake in a decent number of badges.

Back in the forest.

Things had started to calm down. The constant explosions and sounds of battle between examinees had mostly died off. Most of the remaining participants had resorted to hiding their badges and themselves, waiting out the end of the test in silence.

Just like a lone tiger that hunts at night, hiding its prey in a treetop to keep it from being stolen by another predator—

That’s what was happening now.

If you had a good stash of badges, you stayed hidden. Period. Just survive until the end.

But now, another problem was creeping in—food. Almost everyone was starting to feel the crunch. Bellies were empty. Minds were getting foggy. Soon, people would start making their way toward the supply drop zones, desperate for something to eat.

Shiro was one of them. No—scratch that. His situation was worse than everyone else's.

After that clash with Alice, Leo had grabbed him and leapt away. The two of them crash-landed near the entrance of some cave. Shiro had blacked out from the freefall—if it weren’t for the tree branches that broke their fall, he might’ve ended up with enough broken bones to get kicked out of the test.

Somehow, by some ridiculous stroke of luck, both he and Leo survived. They’d been hiding in this concealed cave ever since.

But the real issue wasn’t even Shiro. It was Leo—who, for some unknown reason, had slipped into a deep, unmoving sleep since his fight with Alice.

He’d been out cold for three days.

His right arm was broken from the clash with Alice’s blade, his glove completely shredded, and his mana reserves had been drained to nothing.

Actually, Leo’s mana had bottomed out right after he threw that last punch.

He should’ve passed out right then and there—but somehow, he’d redirected the little bit of nerve energy left in his system, just enough to dodge the sword and launch himself at Shiro, blasting fire behind them to cover their escape.

And then they ran. Leaving Alice behind.

From the very beginning, Leo had been pushing himself past his limits. Shiro had known he wouldn’t be able to beat Alice like that.

And now here he was, lying unconscious in a cave, arm busted, with no food or water to their names.

Shiro’s condition wasn’t any better, either. After he patched up Leo’s injuries, he finally noticed they were out of supplies. Not just that—he hadn’t earned a single badge yet. And Leo only had one on him.

"What am I supposed to do now? No food. No water. No badges…”

Sitting beside Leo, Shiro muttered to himself, mind running a thousand miles a minute, trying to figure a way out of this mess.

Things had started off better than this, way better. But nothing ever goes the way you want, does it?

Especially now, with the test nearing its end.

Without strength, he wouldn’t be able to get badges... or food... or even protect himself from some random monster that might pop up. He’d been lucky so far—not a single beast had found the cave or caught his scent outside.

Yeah, monsters did prowl around the cave at night. Sometimes even other test-takers—monsters of a different breed, if you asked Shiro.

But thanks to the low mana output from both him and Leo, no one had sensed their presence yet.

Lucky. Way too lucky.

Shiro looked toward the mouth of the cave, where faint light filtered in.

Sunlight was shining outside—but deep in the forest, it barely made a dent through the towering Shermenian trees. Their massive branches swallowed the light, only allowing the thinnest beams to slip through.

Because of that—and from being holed up in the cave for so long—Shiro had lost all sense of time. Day, night... it all blurred together. The only way to tell was to step outside and catch whatever pale sunlight made it past the branches.

He pulled out his map from the nearly empty bag and stared at the glowing mark in the center.

That was the supply drop zone.

His eyes trailed from the map to Leo, still unconscious. Still breathing, but helpless.

That state... it was all because of Alice.

A deep, coma-like sleep. No one knew when he'd wake up. And even if he did, that busted arm would keep him from fighting or defending either of them. Worse—he still had his badge, meaning he was still a target.

"Isn’t it obvious? There’s no other option. If I don’t move now, we’ll be forced to withdraw from the test—and that’s the last thing I want.”

After running through every scenario in his head, Shiro came to the one and only conclusion: he had to go.

Sure, it was dangerous. Stupid, even. He wasn’t good at fighting. There were monsters out there. Strong test-takers. If he made it to the supply zone, he’d definitely run into someone.

But staying here meant starving. Leo wouldn’t recover without food. And if Shiro didn’t act, it was game over.

“Alright, Leo... wait for me. I’ll come back with good news.”

When night fell, Shiro packed his bag, tightened the straps, and stepped into the darkness.

With his heart pounding like crazy, he pushed forward—right into the terrifying unknown of a forest no sane person would roam at night.

He covered a decent distance without running into anything... until he paused beside a tree, eyes scanning the area.

Cautiously, he crept around the tree trunk, taking slow, silent steps.

Then something cold hit his nose.

A drop of water.

He glanced up—another drop landed on his forehead. Then another. And another.

A drizzle. Rapidly picking up speed.

“Seriously...? It’s raining...?”

At the worst possible time.

Within minutes, the forest turned into a slippery mud pit. The rain came down in sheets. Wind whipped through the trees, making branches sway violently, and some foul, unidentifiable stench began to fill the air.

Still, Shiro kept walking. Step by step, getting closer to the supply zone.

Could this get any worse?

As if answering his question, something shifted nearby. A subtle movement.

Shiro stopped instantly, slipping behind a thick tree.

The rain pelted him harder now, soaking through every layer of clothing. The sound of footsteps grew louder—closer.

He peeked from behind the tree—and what he saw made his blood run cold.

Even proctor Shin wouldn’t want to face that thing.