Callian sat at his desk, fingers tapping against the wooden surface as he skimmed through his notes.
A large map of the continent was spread before him, marked with symbols and annotations, some old and others newly added. His golden eyes flickered with quiet intensity as he analyzed the timeline he had created.
Violet is six now.
That meant, if the story was still following its intended course, the first calamity would appear in autumn—only 87 days from now.
The Great Plague.
A disaster that would sweep through the land, killing thousands, leaving cities in ruin. He had read about it in Poisonous Violet, his sister's novel. In the original timeline, the plague would become one of the earliest signs of the continent's descent into chaos.
The infection spread rapidly, turning the sick into hollow, mindless creatures before they died. No holy magic or conventional medicine could cure it. It was only stopped when the Miracle Alchemist appeared, brewing a cure just in time to prevent a complete collapse.
The problem?
The alchemist hadn't been discovered until the death toll had already reached the hundreds of thousands.
Callian exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair.
He would not let that happen.
He needed information.
"Rael," he called, his voice calm yet commanding.
A soft breeze filled the study as the air shimmered before him. From the swirling mist, a woman materialized, stepping into existence as though she had always been there.
Rael, once a high-ranked wind spirit, now his head maid, bowed gracefully. Her hair, barely touching her shoulders, shimmered with an ethereal glow. She wore a crisp, formal uniform, her expression composed yet filled with quiet curiosity.
"You called, Master?" she asked.
Callian gestured for her to sit. "Tell me what you sense about this world."
Rael tilted her head slightly, thoughtful. "Compared to your previous world… this place is strangely pure."
Callian arched a brow. "Pure?"
She nodded. "Do you remember the time before the Gates appeared in your human world?"
Callian did. Before the dimensional rifts, Earth had been normal. Then, the balance shifted—demonic creatures, monsters, and otherworldly beings spilled into their reality, permanently changing human evolution. That was how Hunters were born.
Rael continued, her gaze distant as she tried to explain what she sensed. "That world was already unstable. It had been corrupted by external influences for years before the first crack even opened. But this place… it's untouched. Too untouched. There are no lingering traces of chaotic energy—no leftover remnants of dimensional breaches."
Callian narrowed his eyes. "Then why is a dimensional crack appearing now?"
Rael hesitated before answering. "I don't know. But I do know this: something external is trying to interfere."
A foreign force.
A cult, just like in his past life.
Callian's fingers curled slightly.
He had seen enough death. Enough destruction. If something—or someone—was trying to twist this world's fate, he would crush them before they had the chance.
Rael studied him for a moment before asking, "Have you considered the Akashic System?"
Callian stilled. "...You mean the system governing fate?"
She nodded. "It existed in your previous world. Does it still exist here?"
Callian frowned, thinking.
If this world was just a novel, then its reality should be limited to the story's framework.
But what if it wasn't?
What if his sister's novel wasn't fiction, but a vision of the future?
After all, his sister had awakened with the ability to see glimpses of what's to come. What if she simply wrote down what she saw?
Rael's voice was gentle but firm. "This world may have been written, but does that mean it's fake?"
Callian's jaw clenched.
Fake or not, he was here. Violet was here. And he had already changed fate once.
Violet was supposed to be born from a drunken father and abandoned. She was supposed to grow up alone, unwanted.
But now, she had him.
She had a father who would never leave her.
Still…
The weight in his chest didn't lessen.
He had fought demons, hunted gods, survived endless battles—but fate itself?
That was something he had never been able to fight.
His fingers tightened against his palm.
Because he knew, deep down, that fate was something even he couldn't escape.
In his past life, he was cursed with immortality, forced to watch the world die and rebuild itself over and over again. He had seen how fate refused to change, no matter how many times history was rewritten.
And now…
Would his daughter be trapped in the same cycle?
Would Violet, no matter how much he loved her, still become the villainess?
His breath was slow and steady, but Rael wasn't fooled. She saw the flicker of fear in his golden eyes.
The same fear he had when looking at eternity itself.
Then—
A soft chime echoed in his mind.
[System Notification]
Callian blinked.
The system was active again.
[Quest Log]
Quest 2:
Live in Ashville Grand Duke Estate (Completed)
Be acknowledged by the three Ashville Elders (Not completed)
Find the Miracle Alchemist (Not completed)
Prevent the First Calamity: The Great Plague (Countdown: 87 days)
Callian exhaled slowly, staring at the words.
The system had gone silent for years.
Now, it was suddenly guiding him again.
Rael noticed his expression and asked, "What does it say?"
Callian passed her the parchment where he copied the quests.
Her eyes scanned the words. Then, quietly, she whispered, "...87 days."
A countdown.
A deadline.
Callian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I need to find the alchemist before the first outbreak."
Rael crossed her arms. "Do you remember who it was in the novel?"
Callian nodded.
The Miracle Alchemist was a wandering scholar, cast out by their own country due to her radical research on herbs and mana-infused medicine. No one believed her theories—until she created the cure.
The problem was finding her before it was too late.
Callian leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly.
His golden eyes darkened as his mind calculated the steps ahead.
He needed to:
1. Locate the alchemist before the plague spread.
2. Find out who was behind the dimensional crack.
3. Ensure Violet remained safe and happy, away from whatever chaos was about to unfold.
The last thought made his chest tighten again.
No matter how strong he was, no matter how many times he had defied fate—
This time, he was afraid.
Not for himself.
But for the one person who mattered most.
For his daughter.
Because even gods fear losing what they love most.
*****
The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the bedroom. Violet lay curled beneath her thick blankets, her silver hair spilling over the pillow. She clutched a small stuffed rabbit to her chest, eyes heavy with sleep yet still filled with curiosity.
Callian sat beside her, his golden eyes gentle as he tucked the covers around her small frame.
"Papa," Violet mumbled, blinking up at him, "today in class… the other kids didn't know how to read or do math."
Callian hummed, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her forehead. "Oh?"
She nodded. "Even the teacher had a hard time explaining things. But you taught me already, so it was easy!" She beamed, proud of herself. "But then… the teacher said most commoners never learn how to read. Why?"
Callian exhaled slowly, settling more comfortably on the bed.
"Because in this world, knowledge is power," he said. "And power is something those at the top don't want to share."
Violet frowned. "But why?"
He smiled faintly at her frustration. "Because those born into noble families are taught from birth that they are special—that their blood is purer, that they are meant to rule while others serve."
Violet's brows scrunched together. "That's stupid."
Callian chuckled. "It is."
"Humans are humans," she huffed, crossing her little arms. "Why does blood matter?"
"To some, it does," he murmured, stroking her cheek. "They believe it makes them better."
"But you're different," Violet said, tilting her head.
Callian paused.
"...Different?"
Violet nodded. "You can read and write. And you're really strong." She looked up at him, voice small. "But you said you're not a noble."
Callian sighed, considering how to explain it.
"In my village," he said slowly, "it doesn't matter who your parents are. What matters is what you can do. Whether you're strong, whether you're smart, whether you work hard. Anyone can rise up—anyone can learn."
Violet's eyes widened in wonder. "That sounds fun!"
Callian smiled, but his heart felt… distant.
"Fun, huh?" he murmured.
He reached for the small wooden storybook on the nightstand and flipped it open. The pages were worn from years of use, the ink slightly faded.
"Alright, time for a bedtime story," he said softly, hoping to steer the conversation away.
Violet snuggled deeper into the blankets, eyes fluttering closed as she listened to his voice.
Yet Callian's mind drifted.
Fun…?
His childhood had been many things.
Fun was never one of them.
The memory surfaced, unbidden.
A dark, cramped apartment. His mother sitting at the table, her face tired, her hands trembling as she counted crumpled bills. His father's voice, sharp with frustration.
And him—just a boy, fists clenched, teeth gritted, as he realized the truth.
"We can't afford your tuition anymore."
His mother had used up all his savings to pay for his sister's hospital bills.
"You're smart, Hyun" she had pleaded, eyes filled with guilt. "You can find another way."
Another way.
Another way to survive.
And then—
The Gate Break happened.
He had been there. Caught in the chaos. Trapped in a crumbling building as monstrous creatures poured into the streets, devouring everything in their path.
That was the day he awakened.
The Akashic System had appeared before him, granting him power.
[Blessing of Eternity: You cannot die.]
At first, it had felt like a miracle.
Then, he realized it was a curse.
He had fought, and fought, and fought—until he had enough money. Until he could return home.
But by the time he did…
Ten years had passed.
His mother had aged. His father had gray in his hair. His little sister, once a child, was a grown woman.
And yet—he had not changed at all.
He had stayed the same.
While everyone else… kept moving forward.
No matter how hard he fought.
No matter how much money he made.
He was always the one left behind.
He had watched them age. Watched them grow weaker. Watched them die.
And no matter how many times he tried—
He could not follow them.
He had stood before the graves of the people he loved, untouched by time, unable to join them.
That was the day he stopped fearing gods.
Because he could cut them down.
What he feared, instead—
Was the one thing he could never fight.
Fate.
He could not defy the Akashic System.
He could not die.
And now…
Would Violet be trapped in the same fate?
Would she, no matter how much he loved her, still become the villainess?
Would he be forced to watch her fall, knowing he could do nothing to stop it?
He had seen too many futures already.
He had hunted gods and demons alike—
But what about the Akashic System itself?
The force that had written this fate.
Could he fight it?
Or was he doomed to watch, yet again, as the thing he cherished most was taken away?
His grip on the book tightened.
"Papa?"
A small, sleepy voice pulled him back.
Callian blinked, staring down at Violet.
Her violet eyes, half-lidded with drowsiness, gazed up at him.
"You stopped reading," she murmured.
He exhaled, forcing the tension from his body.
"Sorry, sweetheart," he said gently. "I got lost in thought."
Violet made a small sound of contentment, shifting closer to him. "Mm… I like it when you read."
Callian smiled softly. "Then I'll keep going."
He resumed the story, his voice even, calm.
But deep down—
Something in him remained restless.
Even if he shattered fate, even if he killed gods—
Would it be enough?
Would he be able to save his daughter?