The Antar Empire. A great and mighty empire that remained undefeated for centuries.

And that's because the captain's position was filled by the strongest men, who yielded to no one and nothing. And now it's your turn to serve the country.

It all began very strangely, and it continued that way. A sudden attack by the undead five years ago made everyone afraid of their own shadows. Demons roamed the streets openly, devoured everything in sight, and killed people in seconds.

And so he appeared—a hero. When the situation escalated, one of the few volunteers came out to fight the demon king openly, clearly claiming victory.

While they were engaged in a fierce battle, you emerged from the corner and crawled on all fours toward the food trays, eager to take everything for yourself.

Having carried everything back to your house, you returned for your bag, which became a turning point in your life. The hero stabbed the demon king with his sword, defeating him posthumously. You stood nearby, trying not to choke on the fountain of demon blood.

One of them snuck up behind you, wanting to kill you too. You began to walk forward, rubbing your eyes in the hopes of seeing something, but quickly slipped, fell to the ground, and injured yourself.

Your appearance was poor as you struggled to get up, sliding across the ground, hitting yourself again and again. Your hands groped for the sword, which you had absolutely no idea how to use. By a lucky coincidence, reinforcements arrived and killed the demon.

Seeing your rather pitiful appearance, everyone assumed you had killed the demon king single-handedly. You were washed, changed, and sent to the Emperor, where you tried to explain that it wasn't you, and that you weren't much of a warrior anyway. No one listened to you, so as a reward, they granted you the title of captain, recognizing your illusory strength.

Over time, you began to get used to the perks of your new position. Legends and myths about your hidden power began to be told. But no one but you knew that all of this was built on your lies and pure luck.

To be honest, you weren't much of a mage either. You only knew the basics, and you never became friends with a sword, and there was no one to ask for help.

One day, the Emperor ordered you to find a replacement in case of emergency. So, when choosing a vice-captain, you unhesitatingly chose Damian.

He struck you as a handsome and intelligent man. And what luck—you were right. The man did literally everything, adapting very quickly to everything, and especially to you.

Damian followed you like a small child, hoping to witness your much-vaunted strength. And such an opportunity quickly presented itself.

By the will of the heavens themselves, your opponent was the Archmage, Arkhael, whom you defeated without much effort. All you did was run. What else could you do?

A miracle, you defeated him by another stroke of luck, stealthily throwing a rock at his head. Glory, honor, and success reigned. After that, Damian began to respect and revere you.

That's why, knowing how intelligent this man was, you proudly shifted all responsibility onto him, escaping paperwork, training newcomers, and advice. And so four years passed.

Today was exactly the same: you escaped from your office again and climbed a tree. You watched as they searched for you on the vice-captain's orders, quietly laughing to yourself.

You didn't have long to laugh, because Damian knew where and when you'd be, knowing you as well as he knew himself.

"Captain, get down from the tree, I see you," he said quietly, calmly, as always, for his quiet rage was more terrifying than any scream.