Hello, I am Sintus from Lu4 White server, hear my story .
Birth of Dark Avenger
For Me, It Was Just a Regular Evening
For me, it was just a regular evening.
With the company of my closest friends, we decided to go for our daily hunting session outside town. Before leaving, we had to resupply ourselves with soulshots, all kinds of potions, and experience scrolls.
In my party, I was the smallest and weakest member, acting as a knight. With a sword and shield, I tried to defend my friends. But in the end, I was usually the one who needed defending.
The Friday evening started like most evenings. We were having a good time, and the air was full of happiness and joy. We had been cleaning the lands around Giran of evil undead hordes. We knew the area well, and after so many hunts, we had started to feel almost invincible.
But suddenly, the air changed. The wind grew stronger, and the temperature dropped so quickly that it felt at least twenty degrees below zero. Even the undead witches we fought almost every day looked frightened.
Day turned into night, and the clouds began to cry. The undead started running away, hiding between the trees and ruins.
Then an ancient evil appeared before us.
In less than a second, our strongest mage fell before our eyes. I stepped forward and charged, but I was struck down into the mud before I could even reach the creature. After that, our beloved healer dropped like a leaf from a tree in autumn.
And then it hit me. I knew what stood before us. It was one of the legendary Harbingers.
I had always believed they existed only in children's fairy tales, stories told to frighten naughty kids so they would behave a little better. Everyone knew the tales, but no one truly believed they were real.
Yet there it was, standing before me, killing everyone in its path.
Our bard grabbed my hand and pulled me up. Out of our party of nine, only three of us were still alive. The green grass was covered in blood, and the beast stood among my fallen friends as if their lives meant nothing to it.
I could barely feel my own body. Tears filled my eyes, but I forced myself to stand. We had to regroup. We had to fight. We had to avenge our fallen friends.
With a smile, the Harbinger turned towards us. With one hand, it grabbed our Elven Elder; with the other, our Bard.
It began to squeeze them. Their screams cut through the darkness. I tried to raise my sword and shield, using whatever strength I had left, but my arms refused to obey. My strength had abandoned me.
So I charged the monster with my bare hands. I attacked it with everything I had left inside me. The demon merely looked at me, smiling with a face that seemed to contain thousands of tortured souls.
It tore my brothers in arms apart and then turned towards me.
I was ready to accept my destiny. The pain was unimaginable. My body gave up, and my soul felt as if it were about to leave it. Somewhere in the distance, I heard another party approaching. The Harbinger's attention was no longer on me or my fallen friends. It dropped me to the ground like an old, worthless toy and turned towards the sound.
That was the last thing I remembered.
A month later, I woke up in an old hospital belonging to the Knights' Order. A priest told me I would never walk again and that I was lucky to be alive. They asked what had happened to me and who had done such terrible things.
I told them the truth.
It was the Harbinger.
From their faces, I understood that they did not believe me.
Time passed, but grief stayed with me. My body slowly recovered, yet my legs remained useless. I could no longer move as I had before. I could not hunt, fight, or stand beside my friends. At first, I spent my days staring at the ceiling, asking the gods why I had survived when the others had not.
Eventually, I realised that if I stayed there, I would go mad. So I began spending more time in the library of the Knights' Order. I read one scroll after another, searching through old histories, forgotten legends, and stories about creatures that were never supposed to exist.
Another month passed, then another. The pain I carried did not disappear. Instead, it began to build something inside me. I could not explain what it was. I only knew that my grief was changing into something colder and harder.
Almost a full year had passed since I lost my family—my friends. I had learned to live with the grief, though I had never truly accepted it.
On the day before the anniversary of the tragedy, I was sitting in the library when something caught my attention: a reference to the Forbidden Chamber. It was said to contain cursed knowledge, unknown scrolls, and books that even the oldest priests feared to open.
A small flame of hope appeared inside me. Perhaps there was a way to kill that beast. Perhaps I could avenge my fallen friends and set their souls free from whatever darkness had taken them.
Breaking the rules felt wrong, but an unknown force was tearing me apart from within. I could not sleep, eat, or find peace. I had to know what was behind that chamber door.
When night fell and everyone had gone to rest, I made my way through the silent halls. The lock was old, and the door opened with a long, painful creak. Dust filled the air. Shelves stood in the darkness, crowded with books bound in strange leather and scrolls marked with symbols I had never seen before.
I spent the entire night reading about the beginning of the world, the gods, the first evils, and all kinds of creations. Most of the writings were impossible to understand, but one book kept drawing my eyes back to its pages.
It spoke of a power that did not belong to light or darkness, but existed between them. A power born from pain, strengthened by loss, and awakened by an unbreakable desire. It warned that anyone who reached for it might lose more than their life. They might lose the person they once were.
I should have closed the book. I should have walked away and returned to my quiet, miserable life.
Instead, I turned the page.
The next pages described a ritual that could awaken strength in a broken body. But it demanded a price: the person seeking power had to enter the darkness without expecting the light to guide them back. There was no promise of safety, no promise of victory, and no guarantee that the power could ever be controlled.
I looked down at my useless legs. I remembered the screams of my friends. I remembered the Harbinger's smile.
I was no longer afraid of the price.
The ritual began before sunrise. I drew the ancient symbols on the stone floor and placed the book in the centre. The air became heavy. Every candle went out at once, and a voice whispered from somewhere beyond the walls.
It asked me what I wanted.
“Strength,” I answered.
The voice asked what I would sacrifice.
“Everything that keeps me from finding him.”
The darkness rushed towards me.
Pain exploded through my body. It felt as if every bone were breaking and being rebuilt, every vein filling with ice. I screamed until my throat could no longer make a sound. For a moment, I saw my friends standing around me, their faces pale and their eyes full of sorrow. I tried to reach them, but they faded into the darkness.
Then everything went silent.
When I opened my eyes, the candles were burning again. The symbols on the floor had disappeared, and the book had turned to ash. I slowly stood up.
My legs held me.
I took one step, then another. I could feel strength moving through my body, but it was not the strength I had known before. It was something deeper, something unnatural. The shadows at the edges of the room moved when I moved. The darkness seemed to recognise me.
I raised my hand, and the candle flames bent away from my fingers.
I had entered the chamber as a broken knight. I left it as something else.
The years of being the weakest member of the party were over. My body was stronger than it had ever been, stronger than it should have been. I could move faster than my eyes could follow, and my sword felt almost weightless in my hand. Yet the power came with a coldness that settled deep inside my soul.
I did not care.
I had only one purpose left: to find the Harbinger.
I searched for clues in forgotten ruins and abandoned temples. I followed rumours from frightened travellers and studied every report of unnatural storms or villages swallowed by darkness. Sometimes I found nothing. Sometimes I found only death. But every time I came close to a trace of that ancient evil, the shadows around me grew restless.
I no longer returned to the Knights' Order. The priests would never understand what I had become, and I no longer trusted those who feared the truth more than the evil itself.
My days and nights became one long hunt. I lived in the shadows, travelling unseen, waiting for the moment when the Harbinger would reveal itself again.
But my mission was greater than revenge. The Forbidden Chamber had shown me something I could not forget: the souls of the dead could become trapped by ancient curses. My friends might still be out there, bound to the creature that had destroyed them. If that was true, then killing the Harbinger would not be enough. I had to break the curse and set them free.
I would not let their suffering continue.
Time passed, and stories began to spread across the lands. Travellers spoke of a dark figure seen at the edge of ruined villages. Bandits vanished from roads where no guards dared to patrol. Creatures of the night fled when a cold wind moved through the trees. Some claimed that a cursed knight was hunting the evil that hid beneath the world. Others said he was no longer human.
Perhaps they were right.
I had once been a weak knight who needed his friends to protect him. Now I carried a power that ordinary men could not understand. I did not seek praise, glory, or the warmth of a crowded tavern. I wanted no songs written in my honour.
I wanted the Harbinger.
And until I found it, I would remain where the light could not reach me.
They began to call me the Dark Avenger.
I became the shadow that watched from the corners of the world, the blade that struck when evil believed itself safe. I did not let darkness swallow those who still had a chance to live. I did not let the light blind people to the horrors hiding beyond it.
I was no hero. I was no longer the knight I had once been.
I was the consequence of a monster's cruelty.
And somewhere beyond the reach of ordinary eyes, the Harbinger was still out there, smiling with its thousand tortured souls.
One day, that smile would disappear.
Until then, I would wait in the darkness.
For the darkness had become my home.
And I had become its avenger.
