Chapter One
Upon an isolated hill, where violent winds raged and their echoes tangled within the void, a lone man stood.
His long black robe flowed down to his ankles, his features cold as a blade. His face was clear and sharp, dark hair scattering around his eyes, a short cascade descending to his neck, pierced by fractured moonlight slipping between the strands.
He was silent, watching from afar. His eyes did not blink, his gaze driven deep into a nearby village—a village that had once been green and radiant… and was now ash dripping with blood.
The greenery had turned crimson, and the dawn had become a distorted blackened face. Blossoming buildings had collapsed beneath the weight of fire, flames raging in a maddened red glow, while savage beasts tore at corpses and devoured men, women, and children alike—without distinction, without permission, without mercy.
A shattering sight, a horrifying scene no human could witness, nor even endure… save for one man.
At last, the stranger upon the hill exhaled.
A cold breath, tinged with a faint, inexplicable satisfaction as he contemplated the ruin.
Little by little, the sounds faded: no human screams, no howls of beasts. Only the whistle of wind remained, fanning the tongues of flame and lashing what little was left of the bodies.
A deadly stillness replaced the chaos, as though death itself had extended its hand.
The man finally moved.
He stepped down from the hill, paused for one final glance at the village, then turned his back and walked on, crossing the tall grass and passing through the shadows of towering trees.
With every step, the echo of devastation behind him diminished until darkness swallowed it whole.
Nothing remained in that night but the moon shining coldly above him.
Then he hummed in a low voice, as if singing to himself:
"Hah… this grass… it reminds me of that night."
His lips curled slightly upward as he ascended the first step upon the true path of dominion… the path of the Qaz.
And with the rise of dusk, a new scene formed before his eyes:
Lofty, imposing walls rising on the horizon, a great city shrouded in mystery.
[Adventurers' City].
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Thanks to his early arrival, only a few adventurers who had just completed their mission stood before him in the line.
The scent of blood clung to them like travelers who had bathed not in water but in the blood of their prey, and their loud laughter shattered the quiet that accompanied the stranger's steps.
He paid them little mind, though he felt a tightness creeping into his chest from their noise.
When their inspection ended, it was his turn. He stepped forward confidently until he stood before a massive wooden gate reinforced with iron edges. On the left side of the door was a rectangular slit.
A pair of eyes watched the man standing before the gate…
The eyes of the inspection officer.
The officer lazily gestured to his subordinate.
"Finish him quickly."
The giant wooden door opened, and the stranger entered a reception room filled with disorder.
The wooden floor creaked beneath each step, and the air was heavy with the smell of cold food mixed with traces of dried blood.
To his right sat the supervising inspector, wrapped in a long gray tweed coat, his tilted hat covering most of his face.
Only one eye was visible—cold, sharp—casting a swift glance at the newcomer.
What he saw was a tall man in strange attire, exuding an unexplainable suspicion.
The inspector adjusted his posture and asked flatly,
"Your name?"
"Karsu," the man answered coldly.
The inspector rubbed his chin and muttered,
"A strange name… And your reason for entering the city?"
Karsu's brow twitched for a moment; it was not customary to ask an adventurer his reason for entry. Yet he answered without hesitation.
"It is said that Adventurers' City bears its name because it opens its gates to all. I am one of them, simply."
The inspector lowered his gaze for a moment, contemplating the answer. Then his eye briefly slid toward the muddy footprints the man had left at the entrance.
A thought crossed his mind:
"A polished, prepared answer… And his footprints… are they reversed? As if he entered while walking backward?"
He shook his head to dismiss the absurd notion. Just another bastard who liked drawing attention with strange tricks.
He did not voice his suspicion, merely gesturing to his subordinate.
"Brand, search him."
Karsu stepped toward the white wall, removed his coat calmly, and leaned back, waiting.
Brand approached until only a single meter separated them. Then he extended his palm and whispered:
"Detection Qaz."
The center of his palm began to throb like a small heart. The skin suddenly cracked apart, revealing a strange oval form marked by a thin black line at its center.
Abruptly, the line split open like a tearing eyelid, unveiling its truth: a demonic eye. A black iris encircled by grayish-white sclera tinged with decay, red veins pulsing slowly as if it were an independent being.
The torn lids blinked twice before fixing their gaze upon Karsu, flooding him with a harsh sensation—as though stripping his skin and searching beyond his bones.
Karsu remained expressionless, as if the scene were entirely familiar. After a few seconds, the eye shriveled and sank back into Brand's palm as though it had never existed. Lowering his arm, he said indifferently:
"He carries nothing dangerous… except this."
He pointed to the sword resting beside Karsu's coat.
The inspector understood immediately and extended his hand.
"Give me the sword and proceed inside."
Karsu looked seriously into the inspector's eyes. His gaze resembled that of an enraged predator.
The inspector and his subordinate exchanged a brief look, assuming him either a fool or one pretending to be. Karsu's features began to darken toward a frown before he said in a cold voice dripping with threat:
"I do not recall any law forbidding me from entering the city with my sword."
The inspector growled irritably.
"How insolent! You haven't even paid yet… and you want to keep your sword?!"
The inspector stilled slowly, his fingers tapping mockingly against the confiscated blade, producing a faint metallic hum.
"In this city, strength is the law… and this sword is now proof of my strength…"
He paused, then tilted his head to look at Karsu with poisoned superiority and continued, "…and your weakness."
He raised the sword to eye level, studying the reflection of his cold features upon the blade before adding, "Perhaps if you begged more convincingly—"
He did not finish his sentence.
It was not a movement, but a displacement. A disappearance from one place and an appearance in another.
The inspector felt a sudden chill, followed by a warm liquid flowing across his face.
He saw Karsu's arm had already returned to his side, his sword dripping blood in his hand.
He tried to ask, "How?" But his lower jaw separated from his face and fell upon his chest. There was no scream—only the sound of flesh and bone striking wood.
Brand turned, only to find a thin vertical red line appearing along his commander's body from head to midsection. Then, as if an invisible thread had been severed, the two halves of the body slowly slid apart and collapsed onto the floor with a heavy thud.
Brand's eyes widened in terror as he reached for his sword, but his hand froze midway. He looked down at his chest to find Karsu's blade had already pierced through it. He felt no pain—only astonishment.
He whispered weakly, blood flowing from his chest and mouth:
"W-Who are you? To kill… a Qaz Lord in moments…"
The subordinate fell, lifeless.
Silence lingered briefly.
Karsu approached the inspector's corpse and knelt, placing his palm upon the man's chest. He whispered two words, more like a low vibration than a voice:
"Stone Qaz."
From the point of contact, decay began.
A pale gray spread across the skin like a lethal dye, cracking like dried clay.
A savage cracking sound followed—the sound of bones calcifying and turning to stone beneath his touch.
The effect spread like a silent contagion to the second corpse. Within seconds, both men had transformed into grotesque gray stone statues, frozen in the moment of their horrific deaths.
Then, without warning, the statues began to crumble.
They disintegrated from top to bottom, collapsing in on themselves like sandcastles struck by waves. Nothing remained but two piles of dense metallic dust upon the floor.
Karsu wiped his hand on the inspector's discarded coat, then picked up the wallets of both the inspector and his assistant.
The technique "Rock Disintegration," one of the techniques of "Stone Qaz" mastered only by a Fourth-Level Qaz Lord or above, was a high-level technique that had already consumed two-thirds of Karsu's energy.
He bent to retrieve the shoes he had removed before entering, put them on calmly, then stepped over the dust of the corpses and walked toward the heart of Adventurers' City.