Amidst a forest filled with towering trees and the scent of life, there was a figure walking quietly among the woods—
a figure whose gender could not be discerned, with pale white skin, long blue hair, and no face.
They wore something resembling a light-blue yukata.
They seemed to be searching for someone—until they heard a sound.
It echoed through the forest, causing nearby birds to flee their nests.
The sound was loud enough to make an ordinary human's ears bleed or eardrums burst.
The figure with the long blue hair didn't seem to mind the sound much.
They simply continued walking, feeling themselves draw closer to the source.
Yet there was no fear in them.
They walked on—until they came upon a massive dragon.
Its scales were golden, its teeth razor-sharp within its maw, and its golden eyes were as large as a house.
Its claws were sharp enough to rend even mountains apart.
The dragon gazed at the blue-haired figure with curiosity before speaking:
"Who are you?"
The figure said nothing.
Seconds passed, but they felt like years.
Then the dragon saw the figure sigh, and from nowhere, a mouth appeared as it spoke:
"I am The Creator. And you… who are you?"
In a grand mansion filled with luxurious rooms,
ornaments of gold and diamond sparkled, and priceless paintings adorned the walls.
The hallways were lined with red carpets, and the bedrooms had soft, inviting beds.
But beneath the mansion, in the basement, was something entirely different.
It was a prison—a place meant to confine people.
Strong iron cages lined the room, and guards stood watch at the exit.
It was chaotic and mad, nothing like the peace and brightness above.
In one cage, a young man with purple hair was speaking to an old man.
"Could you tell me your story—your adventures, or perhaps your name?"
The voice was warm, bright—strangely lively for such a grim place, though it trembled with age.
The younger man observed carefully, analyzing his surroundings with calm precision.
He realized he was in some kind of prison.
Instead of answering the question, he asked one of his own.
"Where is this place?"
His voice was cold as snow—so cold it was frightening.
The old man looked intrigued, then burst into loud laughter, drawing the attention of others around.
"This is the prison of the Kingdom of Nedotin,
beneath the mansion of the ruler of this crumbling realm."
The old man's laughter faded, and tears welled in his eyes.
The purple-haired man looked slightly puzzled, but said nothing.
Sensing this, the old man continued, his tone somber.
"There is a dragon of golden flame,
its size rivaling that of mountains.
Golden eyes, golden scales hard as steel,
claws and fangs sharp and merciless.
It rules the largest forest in this world.
They call it 'The King of Dragons' for its unmatched power."
When he finished speaking, he seemed exhausted.
He studied the young man's expression, but the latter remained calm, merely nodding slightly.
The old man was surprised by his lack of reaction and asked,
"You don't seem afraid of that dragon at all. Who are you really?"
His tone was doubtful, almost unbelieving.
The young man gave a small smile and replied:
"My name is Lensin.
Just another adventurer, that's all."
He said it with a soft laugh.
In a small, lively village full of color and joy,
merchants sold goods that shimmered with golden light,
drawing the eyes of everyone around.
The village was filled mostly with families,
and it was divided into two zones—villagers and visitors—
separated by a grand church.
A massive wooden cross stood at its center, radiating a sacred aura.
People came and went through its doors.
The entire village brimmed with life and laughter—
except for one quiet house.
Inside, there was a man and a woman.
The man had white hair down to his shoulders, golden eyes,
and bandages wrapped around his torso.
The woman had long black hair and gray eyes; she looked at him,
her expression shifting uncertainly.
"Who are you?"
Her voice was soft, curious, but she seemed to know she might not get an answer.
The man hesitated, then sighed.
"I can't say. And no, I'm not from another world."
He spoke sincerely—perhaps too sincerely,
as if his honesty itself were an act.
The woman said nothing for a moment,
then spoke again, almost unintentionally:
"There's a dragon—the cause of this chaos.
It's trying to destroy the kingdom.
Our village has only suffered minor damage."
After she finished, she wondered why she'd said that at all.
The man seemed curious at her words but didn't comment.
He stood up and looked at her, only now noticing her maid-like attire.
The woman realized his gaze but ignored it,
instead asking quietly:
"So… what will you do next?
Do you have a goal?"
He thought about her question.
He tried to recall what had happened before he arrived here.
He remembered being in his house, finding a letter—
but ignoring it and tossing it aside before going to nap in the garden.
He tried to remember more, but couldn't.
He concluded that he must have ended up in the dimension
offered to him by that strange man.
"Funny man…"
he muttered softly, as if trying to remember the name.
In that moment, his purpose became clear.
"I'm getting out of here."
After he spoke, his eyes caught sight of a white cloak nearby.
The woman noticed his glance and said,
"That cloak—I made it for you.
Your old one was torn, so I made you a new one."
He thought briefly of his old black-gray cloak,
then nodded slightly.
He picked up the white cloak and put it on.
As he turned to leave, he looked back at her and said:
"My name is Sentrie.
Just another adventurer."