{Chapter 1}

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In the frozen tundra of the north. There was a teen, no more then eighteen, sitting on a mountain of dead soldier corpses. They had a face of hopelessness and fear, their bodies mutilated and bisected to halves.

The boy's hair is pure black, almost as dark as the night, and his eyes were a dull gray, almost a dead look in them. He wore a black trench coat with a white undershirt, and a pair of black slacks with white lines on the rims. He also wears a pair of black combat boots with metal studs on the end.

Dangling on his neck was a chain necklace with a white diamond attached to it. On the side, a name was engraved on it, but the letters weren't visible and smudged.

The boy was sitting on his throne of corpses, almost motionless and dead. The cold was unbearable, but he wasn't even bothered one bit. He was already used to it.

After a moment, he finally stood up from his throne and walked away, passing more corpses on his way out of the fortress. Some of the corpses were brutally or painfully killed. There were machines on fire or pulverized to the ground.

There were barrels of gunpowder in one of the corners of the fortress, a trail of the powder leading outside.

The teen was used to it, it was his living after all. He also knew these were the soldiers of one of the most sadistic generals in the Empire.

Like he cared.

He fought stronger and more terrible enemies then that ice flake.

He was requested by a bunch of people to kill the soldiers occupying in this fortess. Some of them were even crying for him to avenge the people the soldiers killed. He of course couldn't just kill those beggers because of a promise.

The teen slowly grasped the necklace on his neck, gently stroking it as if it was alive.

"Don't worry... I'll keep my promise..." The teen said, his voice stoic and devoid of any emotions.

He sighned, already outside of the fortress, with a torch in his hands, their embers pitifully trying to reach the trail of gunpowder under his feet. He raised thet torch high, and dropped it casually.

The torch touched the trail, igniting it to life. The fire ran back into the fortress, while the boy walked away, his job was already done.

The fortress exploded, lighting up the dark blizzard in an inferno of explosives. The structure crumbled on itself, not being able to support the weight by itself anymore. It was a worthy burial for those damn soldiers, buried under a fortess, a place where they belonged.

He didn't blame those soldiers, they were ordered to, they were afraid to say something. Just like him, he was requested to kill them by a bunch of poor people of this country, but this time he wanted to kill them, instead of being afraid of something.

It was a win-win situation for him.

He then heard a growl infront of him. He cracked open an eye, seeing a big wolf infront of him.

There were about a dozen wolves surrounding him, their teeth bare and drolling, they were hungry, smelling the scent of blood on the boy like moths to a light.

The wolves began to circle the boy, trying to find a right time to strike. He was their game for today.

The boy looked around him, being surrounded by danger-beasts weren't on his to-do list. He stretched his arms out, a few pops and cracks were heard in the sea of growls. He was already annoyed that his day was occupied at killing those soldiers, and now he's surrounded by wolves.

He was already tired at this.

One of the wolves let loose a loud howl and pounced behind the boy, going to for his throat for a quick kill. It was only a few inches away, before it was suddenly kicked between the eyes. The kick was so strong that it's eyes popped out of it's sockets and it's brain turned into putty.

The boy lowered his leg, blood on his toes, with a few bits of brain matter on the studs. He leaned back, dodging another pouncing wolf, only inches away from his face. He then raised his leg again, kicking it in it's abdomen, his foot went through the body.

He threw the dead wolf at another one, making it bite on it's dead brethren. But before it could get away, it's head was smashed open by the teen's foot, more blood staining the snow red.

Three wolves down, nine to go.

Three more wolves charged in, trying to use numbers against the boy. But instead of being overwhelmed, he kicked one in the head, another one in the stomach, and the last one on it's legs, making it howl in pain.

The wolf tried to limp away, but it was suddenly grabbed by the tail, and was used as a makeshift club, slamming it on another wolf, making another bloody stain.

The remaining wolves growled, slowly backing away from the teen. He was able to defeat seven of them without a sweat. They were about to run away, but suddenly a lone howl interrupted them.

Their Alpha has arrived.

The wolves backed away, making way for a heavily scarred and larger wolf. It's fangs were bared, it's claws stained with blood by it's earlier battles. One of it's eyes had a large scar over it, making it useless. It's own growls were full of authority, it's opposing size belittled the other wolves.

It was a battle hardened warrior.

And the teen was bored already.

"Finally... I thought you won't ever come out." He said, cracking his knuckles. He pulled out a knife from his coat, hovering it over his open palm. "Let's see if you're worth it?" He then sliced his hand open, letting his blood drop freely into the stained snow.

The wound suddenly closed up, not even leaving a single scar. The blood under the teen began to move, crawling up to his feet, and onto his open palm. It then began to form, making a handle.

The teen grabbed the handle, letting it form into a single bladed sword.

It was made out of his own blood.

The sword's form was constantly wiggling, as if it was still forming. It then finally hardened, making a beautiful single-edged shortsword.

The teen twirled his weapon around, letting it sing around the dark blizzard. He pointed his sword at the Alpha, challenging it to a one-on-one duel.

It undertood and growled at it's pack to leave, letting it fight against the teen alone, without any help whatsoever. The other wolves back away, giving both combatants space to fight.

The teen and the Alpha circled each other, giving few to none openings to each other.

The teen knew that this danger-beast was much older and more experienced among it's pack. He won't give this thing any breathing space whatsoever. He then took the initiative, charging straight at the wolf in a show of incredible speed.

The wolf dodged a slash from the teen, and retaliates by swinging it's giant muscled paws, but the teen dodged them as well. It then tried to bite the teen, but instead of biting on flesh, it bit on pure cold air, and it's head was slammed with the pommel of the sword.

The wolf shook it's head from the daze, it felt it was hit by a super danger-beast. When it's head came, it couldn't see the teen anywhere, seeing only the snow and it's pack. But suddenly it felt it's own neck feel warm, a wet sensation on it.

Before it could understand what was happening, it's head fell off, rolling on the stained snow with more of it's kind's blood. Before it's brain died, it saw that the teen was fast enough to avoid it's sight, going in for a clean and precise strike, a strike which will guarantee a painless and clean death.

The teen twirled his sword around, and then stabbed it into the snow, letting it liquefy and stain the snow redder. The teen turned around, starring at the remaining wolves, he had a face full of boredom, his face stoic as stone.

The wolves felt their instincts screaming at them to run, and so they ran, leaving their brethren's corpses to freeze in the hard blizzard. They didn't looked back, fearing that the teen might catch them and kill them as well, just like their leader.

The teen didn't pursue any of them, letting the wolves escape with their tails behind their legs. He then released a sigh, and began carrying the corpses. He piled all of them over each other. He pulled out a bottle full of alcohol, he took a small sip, tasting the bitter drink. He threw the bottle at the pile, smashing it and letting it drip on the corpses.

He then pulled out a small box of matches, lighting one and then throwing it into the pile, setting it ablaze. He dropped to his knees and prayed a simple prayer, giving those who fallen against him respect.

After the prayer, he stood up and watched, letting the fire devour everything in it's sight. The embers dancing around him, with the blizzard breeze blowing his trench coat. When the fire ended, only ashes were left from the pile.

Done with the small funeral, the boy turned around and left, dissapearing into the dark blizzard.

On a small hill near the fortress, two soldiers saw everything. From conquering the fortress, to burning those wolves to ashes. They were slack-jawed, a mere teen was able to defeat the personal army of the most sadistic general in the Empire.

Both of them looked at each other, nodding to themselves.

They need that boy in the Revolutionary Army.

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"Dying is relieving, and isn't a punishment."

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Author: Sup, was bored and made a fanfic about an oc.

Okay, in all seriousness. I saw that there weren't a lot of AgK fanfics, so I tried my hand on one. Just hope this one does better, then my other ones. So hope you guys enjoyed.

Oh, and I want you guys try to guess my Oc's Teigu as the story goes on, just the abilites. If you find out what are those abilities, then you guys would understand what he can do.

P.S: If you don't like, then don't read. That's all, thank you!