What am I fighting for?
The question echoed in his mind—soundless, yet heavy enough to make his consciousness tremble.
What am I living for?
Another question followed, like a dull blade scraping and tearing at his thoughts.
What am I surviving for?
There was no answer. There never had been.
Why am I not dead yet?
The final question was no longer confusion—it was rage.
WHY?
WHY?
WHY?
WHY?
WHY?
WHY?!
Silent screams piled atop one another, crushing his soul like a bottomless pit.
---
Between the Clouds
Lioren lay on his back upon an ashen-gray cloud, his body so light it felt weightless. The cloud drifted upward through a murky sky where the light made it impossible to tell day from night.
There was no wind.
No sun.
No ground.
Only him—and the questions.
He stared into the sky, his empty eyes reflecting layers of overlapping clouds, like memories long sealed away. Each layer was a fragment of a past that had never been allowed to rest.
"…Right."
His voice was hoarse, as though it hadn't been used in a long time to say anything real.
"Everything… began back then."
He closed his eyes.
And the world collapsed.
---
The first thing to surface in his memory was the dirty gray of paper.
A wanted poster.
It fluttered in the wind, nailed to stone walls, wooden pillars, city gates—everywhere people passed by, it was there.
On it was a crude drawing of a figure in a black cloak, the face completely obscured. No name. No origin. Only a single bold line of text:
THE MASTERMIND BEHIND
THE ELARON FORTRESS MASSACRE
At the bottom was a bounty large enough to make people sell their conscience without hesitation.
And the hunted man… was sitting right in the middle of the busiest tavern in the district.
Laughter, the clinking of mugs, the stench of cheap ale and sweat blended together. Lioren sat in a shadowed corner, back against the wall, his cloak pulled low to hide half his face.
He ate while staring at the wanted poster lying on the table.
His fingers trembled slightly.
(The massacre of civilians at Elaron Fortress.)
(And they chose me.)
---
The Hunters' Guild building stood tall in the center of the district—new, bright, like a promise not yet broken. It was a newly founded organization, meant to handle the jobs people were willing to pay to have done.
Lioren stepped inside.
(Money… I need money first.)
He approached the quest board, where dozens of commissions were pinned atop one another.
The words spoke of death, monsters, danger—but all of it felt tasteless.
(None of these are worth my attention.)
Then his eyes stopped.
A red commission.
EXTERMINATE MONSTER
AT NOBLE ESTATE FARM
REWARD: 1,000,000 COINS
A huge sum.
Lioren tore the paper down and walked straight to the reception desk.
"I'll take this commission."
The receptionist looked up—and immediately recognized him. Her gaze wavered for a moment.
"I'm sorry… this commission requires a minimum of four people."
Lioren looked at her calmly.
"How I work here—
You know how strong I am."
She exhaled softly and shook her head.
"I know… but rules are rules."
Lioren turned away.
And at that moment—
"We'll take this job."
The receptionist turned.
"Team Basle? But your team only has three members."
The one who spoke stepped forward and turned to look at Lioren.
"Want to join us?"
Their eyes met for a brief instant.
"Fine," Lioren replied.
---
Meeting Room
"I'm Basle.
Earth-element swordsman."
"Topas," the large man said.
"Tank. Stone element."
"Avana," the girl smiled.
"Support mage."
Lioren nodded.
"Lioren. Fire-element swordsman."
Avana leaned toward Basle and whispered,
"How did you manage to invite Lioren?"
He heard her.
"I'm only joining to complete the commission.
Once it's done, I'm leaving."
---
ON THE WAY TO THE COMMISSION SITE
"Lioren…" Basle asked after a stretch of silence.
"Why does everyone in the guild… respect you so much?"
"I've just completed many commissions," Lioren answered.
Avana chuckled softly.
"You really don't know?"
"He's only been in the guild for a month."
"But he's done things no one else dared to."
She spoke of the Bogeyman Cave.
Small creatures with terrifying strength.
They were intelligent. They reproduced by capturing females of other species.
When the victims were no longer useful—they became food.
"Thanks to him… many people were saved."
"And the guild became known."
Topas spoke up, his voice heavy.
"The incident where monsters flooded the city…"
Basle clenched his fist.
"Over a hundred people died… I remember."
"Everyone risked their lives," Topas said.
"But the one who saved the most… was Lioren."
"He blocked the monsters, bought time, forced them to retreat."
"Even the king praised him."
Basle looked at Lioren, eyes shining.
"You're amazing."
Lioren turned away, embarrassed.
---
They reached the farm as the sun began to slant downward, golden light staining the cultivated fields stretching to the horizon. The noble's farm lay outside the city walls—a land forced to exist between two worlds: the weak protection of law and the endless hunger of monsters.
The fertile land inside the city had long been claimed. What remained outside was distant, dangerous soil—yet still had to be cultivated. For taxes. For ownership. Because nobles would not accept reduced profits.
Here, monsters ran rampant, destroying crops, killing people without reason. And yet every day, farmers still went out to the fields, heads bowed to earth and sky.
Basle looked around, hand on his sword hilt.
"We should ask the locals."
No one answered immediately.
Lioren walked slowly between the cracked rows of earth. His gaze wasn't on the buildings, but fixed on the ground.
(Barren soil…)
(Polluted water…)
(Crops destroyed.)
All of that was understandable outside the city.
But then an off-beat sensation arose.
(This isn't right.)
He stopped.
(If this is a noble's farm…)
(…the land should be alive.)
Lioren crouched and scooped up a handful of dirt. It crumbled between his fingers, too dry to hold any shape.
And in that instant—
(…there's magical energy.)
Not much. Not strong. But unmistakable.
Lioren narrowed his eyes.
(Why are there mana particles in the soil?)
Topas, who had made a wider sweep, returned shaking his head.
"No sign of anyone."
They continued on—past abandoned shacks, collapsed fences, farming tools left behind as though their owners had vanished mid-task.
Avana stopped, lowering her voice.
"This is strange… there's no one here at all."
Basle frowned.
"No traces."
"No bodies."
"No blood."
"It's like… no one ever lived here to begin with."
The air grew heavy.
Lioren said nothing. He stood in the middle of the field, silently observing. Everything was too clean for a place ravaged by monsters.
"Avana."
She turned.
"Yes, Lioren?"
"Can you use holy light?"
She nodded without hesitation.
"Yes."
"We'll wait until night."
He opened his hand and showed them the dirt.
"Try holding it."
Basle took it and squeezed lightly.
"It's just… dirt."
Topas tried too, shrugging.
"Yeah. Just a clod of earth."
Avana closed her eyes briefly, then shook her head.
"I don't feel anything."
Lioren wasn't surprised.
(They can't sense the mana particles.)
(Then there are two possibilities. The one who created this… is a monster capable of using magic.)
(Because if it were a human, they would have erased the mana particles—and forgetting wouldn't make sense, since this is a noble's farm.)
The sun fully set. Darkness flooded the farm like water through a broken levee.
Avana stepped forward, raised her hand, her voice low and clear.
"Holy light—the gaze of the gods."
A pale golden glow spread from her—neither blinding nor hot, yet piercing. The eyes of the group lit up simultaneously, as if covered by a thin veil.
Lioren pointed to the ground.
"Do you see anything… beneath the soil?"
Basle and Topas shook their heads.
"No."
Avana froze.
"…I see it."
"There are countless mana particles beneath the ground."
"They're connected, stretching across—"
"A magic circle enveloping the entire farm."
Topas frowned.
"Why can't I see anything?"
Lioren turned away and walked toward the far edge of the field. He moved slowly, counting each step, feeling the subtle shifts in the flow of magic.
Then he stopped.
"Here."
He pointed to the ground.
"This is where the mana particles stop."
An invisible boundary.
No wall.
No fence.
Yet absolute.
Basle tightened his grip on his sword, eyes sharp with caution.
"Then…"
"Let's move."
"Let's find out… what's really happening in this place."