People called him a mutant, a viper, and a crow. They saw him wielding a sword among monsters, and they also saw him being chased by even more terrifying beings and running away. He is a demon hunter and a failure. His childhood memories have been completely erased by magic, leaving only the restless but useless ancient power in his vagina - a secret that even he himself cannot touch, but it has become a sharp sword hanging above his head. The warlock's pursuit is like a gangrene attached to the bones, the elf's eyes are full of persistence that cannot be refused, his creator is spying in the dark, and the knights of the Wild Hunt are pressing forward step by step under the moonlight. He didn't know why he was being chased, nor what truth was hidden in those broken memories. He only knew that only by holding on to the hilt of the sword and struggling forward could he find some breathing room in this indifferent continent.
Determination: Destiny has given me a desperate situation, and I use my sword to find a way out.