When I was eight months old, I received my first book.
When they handed me the book, both Shirley and Alton were trembling, though their eyes showed more concern than fear.
I understood. From their perspective, their infant—who hadn't even reached his first birthday—had chosen to ask for a book instead of uttering their names as his first words.
Maybe I made a mistake. There's still a part of me that fears they'll discover that their son's soul isn't truly their son—but the reincarnation of Cindy's spirit.
But my curiosity got the better of me. Time in this world moveed like a crippled tortoise. There was no internet, no phones, no movies.
And this energetic body needed only a few hours of sleep and woke up at dawn, brimming with tireless vitality until midnight.
I needed something to feed my curiosity so boredom wouldn't kill me—or worse, dull my ambition to seize this opportunity. An opportunity to be someone different. Someone like Alton.
...…
And now!
My book was in front of me, open.
I was in full possession of my seventeen-year-old mind, and my eyesight was perfect… yet I couldn't understand a thing.
In the attic of our house, I lay on my stomach, propped up on my arms, using them like bookstands for my head.
Morning light filtered through the attic's glass window, illuminating the space. The shadow of the half-open closet door cast itself partly over my body—and theirs.
I wasn't alone. Alton and Shirley lay on either side of me. To my left was Shirley, a stunning woman in her mid-twenties. Her emerald-green hair shimmered and was tied in a braid. Her head rested under Alton's massive hand like a nest.
Alton, with his dark eyes, lay to my right, staring at me intently. Every few moments, I'd feel his arm drop behind Shirley's back, and she would flinch in alarm.
"Alton!" Shirley shrieked.
Yeah… Alton wasn't really helping me to focus here.
Not that focusing would help—I couldn't make sense of these letters. They looked like Chinese ornaments to me. And if I stared too long, I'd probably get a headache.
For an hour nothing changed.
The couple was watching me with such intense curiosity… as if their eyes were trying to crawl out of their sockets and into my mind.
Damn, I was starting to regret speaking up. I should had just yelled "Mom!" or something.
"Reo," said Alton, his voice deep, rough, and calm. "Want me to read it to you?"
My eyes widened.
Of course! Why didn't I think of that?!
If Alton read the book aloud, I could match the sounds to the written letters and start learning how to read!
Alright, I know it wouldn't be that easy, but the concept was simple—I would learn through repetition, vocabulary, and letters.
I turned my head toward Alton, locking eyes with him.
Dear Alton, take my softest, cutest look and smile and begin!
And it worked.
I giggled. My baby mouth stretched wide. Alton's face, in contrast, shrank in horror.
"What is this?!" Alton cried. "How can you even do that?! Are you human?!"
"Oh my god, he's a snake," said Shirley, eyes wide with panic. "A cunning, adorable little snake." Then, swallowed her saliva nervously with sweat visibly breaking all over her forehead, "Come on, Alton, give him what he wants."
Alton's cheeks flushed red, and he muttered awkwardly, "You little trickster… all I have to do is read? Fine! You've got it!"
Haha, the magic of children was truly something.
Alton read for about five hours straight.
Of course, I didn't learn to read during that time, but I did start picking up a few letters.
The historical book pulled my mind into the story of this world—my new world, which I had known nothing about. I started learning About it. about Kias.
Kias—this world—was made up of four main continents.
Three of the continents were arranged in a ring, separated by mountains or seas, with the fourth continent at the center.
Many species inhabited Kias, but the dominant ones were humans, monsters, and demons.
Each continent had its own king, and no species would enter another's continent without a royal permission.
The central fourth continent, however, was open to all.
Interbreeding between races was strictly forbidden. Still, some individuals defied this rule, giving rise to hybrids—half-breeds—but these were extremely rare.
—The Demon Continent was divided into two layers: the Lower Continent, home to Dark Demons, and the Upper Continent, home to Light Demons.
Why all these strange laws? Because history demanded it.
#############
In an era without rules—about 800 years ago—the races were in constant, senseless conflict, driven by pride and stubborn honor.
The demons wanted to dominate and killed humans. Humans wanted to dominate and killed demons and monsters. Monsters didn't hesitate to devour either.
The races fought for decades, even centuries. But amid all the bloodshed, compassion emerged. some humans loved a demons; and some monsters chose to walk beside a men.
Hybrids began to appear—creatures born from cross-racial unions. These beings were truly different. And were hated and rejected by humans, monsters, and demons alike.
As wars raged, intermixing increased, and so did the hybrids.
The tipping point came when the hybrids became groups, and became numberd in thousands.
They could no longer bear the hatred. The half-human, half-demon wasn't welcome in either society. His "dirty" blood denied him a dignified life—or any life at all.
Those who bore the marks of three bloodlines were welcomed nowhere. They spread across Kias in search of sanctuary in lands abandoned by the pure races.
And some time in this chaos, a tri-racial hybrid appeared and united the hybrids under his banner and uttered the phrase that would be immortalized in the hybrid chronicles:
"Let us kill our parents and grandparents."
Thousands of hybrids ignited with rage in Sektica, the coastal land with the only port linking the central continent to the Monster Continent, rumored to once was a home to the sirens.
The hybrids first blow to the three races came in the war now known as The First Hybrid Victory (170 B.V.).
200,000 humans, 200,000 monsters, and 100,000 demons faced off against just 10,000 hybrids.
The battle lasted seven days and nights.
The result was terrifying.
The hybrids wiped out all 500,000 enemies. Their own losses? Fewer than 1,000.
No one expected such a loss. They had assumed hybrids inherited only superficial traits.
But the truth was—they inherited the strengths of all their bloodlines. When they combined them, a devastating new power emerged.
Twenty-five years after the First Hybrid Victory came a second war—The Second Hybrid Victory.
This time, the hybrid Emperor gave a peculiar command: "Avoid killing women if possible."
The hybrids didn't understand at first, but their records later revealed the reason.
Two million of the three races' forces faced fewer than 10,000 hybrids.
The hybrids won again, losing about 3,000 of their own.
What terrified everyone was that the hybrids burned all enemy corpses to ash.
In the chaos, the human king died of old age, leaving the throne to his wise young son.
The new king's name was Sasha.
Sasha met with the other two kings, proposing peace.
Sasha believed the real reason the three races lost both wars was that they had fought one another as well as the hybrids. And with peace that problem would be gone.
But the other two kings refused. To them, these wars were a chance to prove supremacy—if demons destroyed everyone, they would reign supreme, and monsters thought the same.
Sasha's plea failed and he returned home empty-handed.
Years passed. Sasha turned fifty-six.
For forty years, the hybrids stayed silent. So did the other races.
Sasha grew uneasy, convinced this calm was foreshadowing a storm.
And he was right.
Suddenly, the demons declared war—not just on the other races but on the hybrids too.
The war's battleground was far from the human kingdom. Sasha gave an odd order: the humans would not fight; they would focus solely on defending their lands.
When the war came, it was the storm Sasha had feared.
Seven million demons and monsters combined—20% of all demons, 30% of all monsters.
But that wasn't the real horror.
The true storm… was the hybrids' numbers.
They now numbered sixty thousand.
In mere decades, they'd multiplied sixfold. And once again, the result was predictable.
The hybrids won. Their losses? Fifteen thousand.
The hybrid king's strategy was simple: capture as many women as possible. A human-demon hybrid would breed with a monster to produce at least eight tri-blood hybrids—ensuring both quantity and terrifying strength. Burning corpses also concealed the kidnappings.
Afterward, Sasha once again summoned the kings.
This time, both had shed their pride. Their only question was:
"Is victory even possible?"
"It's not just possible," Sasha answered. "It's certain."
When he shared his plan, their eyes widened in astonishment.
The first step: initiate the next war within five years—to prevent the hybrids ant time to breed.
Step two: only male soldiers.
The enemy's growth was clearly linked to captured women.
Step three: gather and train as many small animals as possible.
Five years passed.
War was declared in the morning—and executed at night.
Under moonlight, the hybrids saw lights approaching…
They ran to meet the lights—only to find small animals, tied with glowing lamps.
A strange, eerie trap.
In that moment of stunned silence, beautiful lights descended from the sky—artillery fire from the three races.
It lasted a full day and night—killing half the hybrid force.
As panic spread, the melee began. The three races had deployed 37 million soldiers. Only children and women remained behind.
Even the kings joined the war.
It lasted nine days.
The hybrids were exterminated.
The cost? 17 million lives from the three races.
But the survivors wept with joy and danced together for a week straight.
They named the war The Victory of the Patient, a tribute to their endurance in pursuit of peace.
##################
This is the summary of the book—compiled from four historical volumes, each written by a different historian from one of the three main races who lived through that era.
That's why it offered every perspective on that war.
It's said that after this war, history was reset and rewritten. That meant we were now in a year somewhere between 800 and 900.
Not a bad bit of information to have.
But honestly, I felt bad for the hybrids. They didn't really do anything wrong. They just wanted a normal life… without always being seen as the bad guys.
Then again, I suppose it's not surprising.
The oppressed dying unjustly… was just another day in an unfair world.