As I sat reading the Beast Breathing book, I noticed something strange.
Compared to the other books—
this one was thin.
Barely thirty pages.
The first five pages contained only the breathing formulas.
How to breathe.
How to circulate aura.
How to store it.
I had read those five pages more than a hundred times already.
So this time—
for the first time—
I skipped them.
And opened the sixth page.
At the very top, a single line was written:
"For knights who wish to walk the normal path—do not learn this breathing style."
"This style is only for those willing to embrace madness… and survive it."
"Know my story."
I narrowed my eyes and continued reading.
My name is Runderg.
I was born in the slums of the Imperial Dominion of Drakoryn.
In that empire—
strength ruled above everything else.
The weak suffered.
The strong decided what truth was
Even the Emperor believed in that principle.
My parents abandoned me when I was young.
I was raised in an imperial orphanage.
And there, we were taught only one thing:
"If you are weak, your suffering is your own fault."
I was smaller than the other boys.
So they bullied me.
Beat me.
Humiliated me.
Most of the time, they attacked in groups.
I often slept with split lips, dirt in my mouth, and blood drying on my skin.
Every morning hurt.
The teachers never stopped them.
They only watched and said—
"Become stronger."
I tried to fight back.
But I was too weak.
So I trained.
While others slept—
I trained.
While others ate—
I trained.
The only happiness I had came from two things:
My friend.
And my lover—
Reinam.
Children in the orphanage were allowed to choose breathing methods only after turning thirteen.
But before I was old enough to choose one—
I had already learned what weakness meant.
So I trained my body until it broke.
Eventually—
I became strong enough to fight back.
The boys who once bullied me came again one day.
That time—
I punched once.
Only once.
One boy collapsed instantly.
Blood spilled from his mouth.
The others didn't even dare approach me afterward.
For the first time—
I felt power.
I thought Reinam and I would finally leave that place together.
I was wrong.
A noble's son noticed her.
Wanted her.
And took her away.
Just like that.
Something inside me broke.
I locked myself inside my room for days.
Crying until my throat burned dry.
One of the orphanage instructors eventually came to me and said:
"Strength is the only thing that matters in this empire."
"If you were stronger… no one could have taken her."
Those words burned into me.
At the age of twelve—
I ran away.
Straight into the forbidden zones of the Dark Forest.
Most people believed anyone entering that place would die.
At first—
I nearly did.
A pack of Dung Rabbits hunted me for three days.
I survived only by killing them first.
I still remember the cold nights.
The hunger twisting my stomach.
The mud sticking to my body while I hid beneath roots and broken trees.
I slept shaking from exhaustion, gripping stones like weapons because I feared dying in my sleep.
But while hiding inside a crude shelter I dug myself—
I began observing monsters.
Studying them.
Watching how they moved.
How they hunted.
How they survived.
Back at the orphanage, children around thirteen were allowed to choose breathing methods from the library.
But I had already realized something important.
Monsters didn't fight like humans.
They didn't gather strength calmly.
They exploded.
Violently.
Instinctively.
That idea became the foundation of Beast Breathing.
This breathing style gathers aura differently.
No grace.
No elegance.
No steady accumulation.
Instead—
it forces the body into overdrive.
Blood pumps faster.
Heat rises.
Muscles activate beyond normal limits.
The heart accelerates violently during combat.
Then slows during recovery.
Again.
Again.
Again.
A cycle similar to beasts hunting prey.
The greater the output—
the greater the burden.
Power and self-destruction existing side by side.
It took me nearly twenty years to perfect it.
As I read that part, I finally understood something.
"…So that's why."
Every time I used Beast Breathing intensely—
my muscles became sore afterward.
My body heated up.
Sometimes even hurt for hours.
It wasn't just exhaustion.
The technique itself was forcing the body beyond normal limits.
If used carelessly—
it could destroy the user from the inside.
When Runderg finally left the forest—
I was thirty-five years old.
No wealth.
No status.
No family.
Only strength.
I walked directly to the noble estate that took Reinam away.
The guards tried to stop him.
I defeated them.
More came.
I defeated them too.
No techniques.
No elegance.
Only Beast Breathing.
Only violence.
I kicked open the mansion doors—
And saw something—
that turned my vision red.