In the stillness not far away in the forest, behind dense foliage, a trembling gaze followed his departing silhouette. She held her breath, fearing even the slightest sound might make him turn around.
"...De... Demon Lord...?" The elf girl's voice escaped like a mere whisper, yet even that was enough to send a chill down her own spine.
She collapsed to the ground, her limbs soft and powerless. Her trembling legs could no longer hold her upright. Her hands pressed against the cold, damp grass and soil, nails digging in as if to grasp at reality, to avoid slipping away into the dizzying shock.
In that moment, she had witnessed—witnessed a scene far beyond any fairytale or dark legend ever told among the Elves. That leap that defied all laws of nature, the earth-shattering impact that tore the sky, and his form. A form not of a living being, but of something eternal—untouched by the concepts of good or evil.
Though he had long departed, the air still clung to his presence, as though even the forest held its breath in fear that he might return.
"...He... the Demon Lord..." she whispered again, more audibly this time, as if trying to convince herself that what she'd seen was real. Her eyes widened in horror. "He's... heading toward the Capital?!"
A chill ran down her spine. She immediately bowed low, forehead touching the earth, her lips moving in a silent prayer in the ancient tongue of the Elves—a language reserved only for rites of farewell and soul passing.
It took a long while before her body stopped trembling with fear. She slowly, shakily rose to her feet. A hand brushed away tears from the corners of her eyes. She looked toward the path he'd taken, still unable to believe what she'd witnessed.
A single question echoed in her mind: "Who... is he?"
"A demon... or a god?"
But deep in her heart, she knew. That being did not belong to this world.
"Hehehe..."
A shrill laugh pierced the silence like rusted metal tearing through a velvet curtain. The elf girl gasped, whipping her head around, her breath caught in her throat. Her hand instinctively gripped the hilt of her sword—a reflex honed by experience.
Just then, five figures emerged, like predators tracking the scent of blood. Filthy faces, greasy eyes, twisted smiles full of lust. Wearing adventurer cloaks, they shed all pretense—their rotten nature laid bare.
The elf girl immediately knew trouble had arrived—the kind she never wanted. Perhaps the earlier noise had lured these scavengers in.
"What do you want?"
Her voice was low, sword drawn in one smooth arc. The cold glint of steel mirrored the narrowed eyes filled with extreme caution.
Their disgusting gazes slid over her like dull knives scraping against flesh. The largest of them grinned, revealing yellowed teeth.
"Fufufu..." He snorted, licking his lips like a starving dog, his raspy voice scratching like claws on stone. "Didn't expect to find such a pretty flower left behind..."
"Not bad! I thought you were just some useless wandering Elf... turns out you're a fighter. But—"
He squinted, voice oily and venomous.
"It won't change your fate."
"Come quietly, girl... You'll fetch a fine price from the slavers in the Capital!"
"Hahaha!"
Their foul laughter echoed through the forest like wild demons catching a whiff of fresh blood. The elf girl stiffened, her eyes narrowing.
The word 'Capital' ignited a different flame in her—not one of humiliation, but because she knew what was heading there.
"Look, she's scared!" one of them howled gleefully, sending the group into another round of manic laughter. They closed in, surrounding her like a pack of hyenas.
But amid their arrogance, her eyes sharpened. A flash of resolve, cold and steely, sliced through the darkness like a blade.
Whoosh!
Without warning, the elf girl dashed forward like lightning. The sudden burst of speed caught them off guard. The man in the center instinctively drew his sword and swung in defense.
But it was a feint.
She twisted mid-move, darting outward like a flame-kissed gust of wind. Her silver blade carved a brilliant arc through the air.
Slash!
A burst of blood followed the clean cut. One man froze, then collapsed, a deep wound from shoulder to chest spilling crimson. His scream triggered panic among the others.
"Shit!!"
Another shouted. Before he could retreat, her sword had already drawn another arc.
Thud!!!
A masterful spin. Her blade slashed across his throat—his head nearly severed. His body hadn't even hit the ground before death claimed him. Blood sprayed across the leaves as the morning light pierced through red droplets, illuminating the fall of the first mocker.
"Surround her!!"
A shout of rage. The three remaining spread out, forming a triangle—ready to grind her down. Their eyes locked onto her, cautious yet thirsty for the kill.
---
The elf girl's breaths grew heavy. Those bursts of swordplay had drained her strength. Sweat beaded on her brow, seeping through her clothes. Her movements slowed—not from hesitation, but fatigue.
She knew—now that they were alert, defeating the remaining three was near impossible. Every step they took was calculated, each angle covered.
They weren't fools. They no longer charged recklessly but attacked in a rotating pattern, each blow like waves crashing against worn stone.
"It's over, bitch..." The man with a cleaver licked his lips, ready to strike from the side.
"We'll break you until you can't stand," sneered another, his thin whip snapping toward her waist.
Crack!
Gritting her teeth, she dodged the lashing strike.
Just then, as she focused on the two ahead, a third attacker lunged from behind, blade aimed at her back. Sensing danger, she turned swiftly to counter—but slashed only air. He had already withdrawn.
As she tried to reset her stance—
Thwack!
A brutal blow struck the back of her head with the hilt of a sword.
Her eyes widened as the light shattered in her pupils. Her body stiffened, then collapsed onto the grass like a trampled flower.
"Stubborn bitch..." One spat, glaring at the bodies of their fallen comrades.
"What now?" another asked, voice trembling—thankful he wasn't among the dead.
"What else?! Tie her up. We're taking her to the Capital. We lost two men—gotta make up for it!" the leader snarled, his greed thinly veiled by anger.
Laughter returned—mocking, crude, and cold as rusted steel. It echoed through the trees, mixing with the forest's sigh.
---
"Oh, how magnificent!" Gen voice brimmed with awe as he set foot on this land. Before him stood a grand kingdom, encircled by towering walls. From afar, he could already glimpse the outline of a splendid castle—a golden dream etched into the sky.
This was Kakor, once a kingdom of renown, now a mere province under the mighty Adelaide Empire. Gen knew well how the Empire devoured smaller realms—draining resources, oppressing people. But he hadn't known Kakor had become just another tiny outpost under Adelaide's heel.
He picked up his pace, following a winding path along the fortress walls. The main gate was not in this direction.
Eventually, his patience was rewarded. The city gate came into view—but the unusually noisy scene gave him pause. A crowd of commoners murmured in concern, all eyes fixed ahead. Gen easily recognized them as nobodies—confirmed by the dull white letters above their heads, lacking any rank.
Wading through the crowd, he spotted two gate guards and stopped in front of a middle-aged man who seemed informed.
"What's going on?" he asked.
The man sighed, voice as mournful as wind over a winter graveyard.
"It's Princess Charlotte. You haven't heard? They say she and her escort entered the Dungeon almost two weeks ago—and haven't returned. The King's worried sick, so they posted a mission notice." He gestured to a large paper pinned on the wall.
Dungeon. The name stirred ancient memories—of a world brimming with mystery and danger. Monsters thrived within, priceless treasures hidden in the shadows. Dungeons had existed since the age of the Demon Lord—the Dark Era. But that age ended a thousand years ago, when a Hero from another world, alongside brave companions, defeated the Demon Lord and brought light to the world.
Even so, these perilous Dungeons remained, filled with deadly traps. Most levels remained unexplored—heaven to adventurers hungry for power.
"I see..." Gen muttered, eyes still locked on the notice.
"Yeah..." the man added wistfully. "The reward is 5000 gold and a luxury house in the Capital. I heard dozens of adventurers already departed this morning."
"Not my concern," Gen thought, turning toward the gate. But then—
[Warning: Safe Zone]
A small alert appeared before his eyes, halting him. "Hey, you there!" One of the guards stepped forward—clearly having watched him for a while.
"Which unit are you from?" the guard asked, pointing at Gen's uniform—standard issue from the Imperial army.
Gen said nothing. He didn't know how to respond.
"I don't remember," he finally admitted. It wasn't entirely true—but he truly couldn't recall anything.
"What do you mean, you don't remember?" the guard's brow furrowed.
"Let's take him in for questioning," the second guard suggested, eyeing Gen closely. "Do you remember your name?"
"Gen," he replied calmly, voice as still as an autumn lake.
"That's your name?" Suspicion laced the guard's tone.
"Yes." Gen paused briefly, then confirmed.
"Alright, come with us."
"Where to?"
"If you really are part of the Imperial army, there should be records—or someone who knows you. We'll figure things out." They quickly discussed and then one turned to Gen and issued the order.
Half an hour later...
...
Gen sat in a damp cell, face shadowed.
The moment he realized he'd been thrown in here, he nearly exploded—safe zone or not.
But he held back. This feeling wasn't unfamiliar.
Memories of Earth surfaced. He'd traveled the world—often skipping tickets, getting caught, temporarily jailed. If he wanted, he could've escaped any of those situations—quietly like a breeze or violently like a thunderclap. But sometimes... he just wanted to know what it felt like—to live as a regular human, drifting through the chaos of life.
"Gen... Alexander Gen?"
Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway, followed by a deep, stern voice that shattered the silence of the prison.