"I wish, 𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖾 𝖺lready."

Under the grace of morning light, revealed a young man that has his cheek laid atop a table inside the Guild in Hazaren, Manila

𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗋-𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, abandoning all hope as his adventuring partner in the time, his companion, a sorceress named Roselia left him for a far promising, gold-ranked knight class adventurer named Derrick.

Magical Prowess, Noble Family Background, and Wealth have backed the blonde-haired and buffed Derrick into blazing through the adventurer ranks.

And with his blazing broadsword cuts through far more advanced monsters with ease, he thus claimed the adventurer nickname "Blazing Blade."

Where, his ex-adventurer partner, Roselia, a red-haired silver-ranked sorceress that is masterful in each element of magic that she wields, might've gone tired of complimenting his shortcomings.

"I thought we will stick together through thick and thin. But, why?"

"..."

"... I understand."

"𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌, 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗁𝖺𝗁𝖺𝗁𝖺.... 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅...𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁. As I'm still... A wood-ranked, classless adventurer."

He gazes empty into the wooden floor, eyes progressively becoming clouded.

"..."

Until his tears start to fall, as realizing his incompetence has made her drift from him.

He can't blame her or be upset at all, as he knows it is better for her.

It is just, he was struck by realizing his unfortunate reality, of having a very weak mana manipulation capability and low mana capacity.

He can't fuel the mana capability evaluator, let alone operate it to evaluate him.

Therefore, after some certain moments, he halted his tears, then wiped his eyes with the 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖿 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝗄𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾.

He lifted his face and briefly stares at the ceiling.

"Welp..."

"At least, I am getting used to the almost same scene every day."

"And, I still have God with me."

He reminded himself then a smirk appeared to contradict what he is feeling.

"𝖠𝗅𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖼𝗋𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒. 𝖫𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝗀𝗈 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗎𝗇𝖾."

H𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗎𝗉 to walk 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 the other adventurers 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗀𝗎𝗂𝗅𝖽.

And as he walks pass by each of them, he can't avoid 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 ill gossips 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

"As if a woman like her would be dumb enough to stay with such a burden like him."

"𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖿𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗀𝗎𝗒. He'𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖽𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗇𝗈w. A𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝖾𝗌, 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺 𝗐𝗈𝗈𝖽-ranked."

"Would he just quit being an adventurer?"

He can't quit being an adventurer, it is the only work he can do, as he has never gone to school in his whole life.

𝖧𝖾 𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆, 𝖺𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 such treatment.

"𝖨'𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗌."

𝖧𝖾 announced to himself whilst 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇ing 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋, which 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 dirtied leather 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗍.

𝖠nd as soon he opens the double doors of the guild entrance, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗎𝗅𝖿𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆 to 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖺l him 𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗍.

𝖧𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇-𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍.

"Time to die out there.."

.

.

.

Late afternoon, as he strides on the dirt path under the shade of the treelines of Acacia Forest...

"There should be something at least in this final spot, a piece of a guide."

He announced crossing out two illustrations of a camping ground and an overlooking cliff in his small notebook, leaving the illustration of the church unmarked.

"Don't be a waste of time, please. I don't want to eat instant ramen for dinner again."

His will was announced as his feet brought him into the face of the ruined church.

Passing through the entrance, a supposedly double wooden door is already missing, only crumbs of wood were left in the said spot.

The mosaic windows that have many colors are already shattered, and broken, which some shards scattered on the ground beneath them.

Broken church seats are scattered around in disorder and ridden by mites.

And the setting sunlight hits his face as it pierces through the small and big holes of the church's roofing as he progresses

"Looks like this church worships another goddess."

A comment came out from his lips as the large design of an engraved imagery of a pleaded maiden could be seen in the wall behind the seemed to be the altar of the church.

The wavy, long-haired maiden who is facing to the right, appears to be wearing a gown, with arms and her cheek appearing to have some sort of streak of Laurel leaves crawling on them.

And in the pleaded hand, has some sort of a floating orb on it, with a pair of two small comets orbiting it on opposite sides

Therefore, as for the church and everything was already ruined by nature and time, molds and weathering were visible to ruin the image.

And he felt compassionate as he discerns the emotion of the maiden in the imagery.

"It must be lonely to be abandoned by your worshippers, letting you crumble down with time."

He is about to move closer, but his observant eyes stopped him as he saw the tracks on the floor that leads to the altar, and with the design of the tracks, he easily discerned it as the tracks were still prominent in the accumulation of dust.

And he followed the tracks that leads him to the back of the altar, and the tracks ended in one ground before the wall of the engraved maiden.

"That's weird."

He commented after realizing the tracks unnaturally become missing in the said ground.

And his curiosity has led him to be interested to look closer at the wall where the engraved maiden is designed.

Looking from the front, nothing is unusual, and he decided to look from the side, having his cheek stuck to the dusty wall.

"Bingo."

His observant eyes made his finger mark the unevenness in the wall and he lifted himself from the wall, to see what his finger marked.

It was the orb, and it was made obvious, as an experienced adventurer, seeing the fingerprints that were made from dust and as he looks closer, there is a tight crevice around the design of the orb, he was certain it is a button.

"Okay, we got no time to waste. Trapdoor or whatever, I'm ready!"

He already noticed the cut in the stone floor, but he chose to not mention it, as he can't waste more time.

And without further ado, he pressed the button.

*creak*

The floor before he rang into creaking of stones.

"Hey!"

And with this sudden sound, his eyes widened in surprise even though he anticipates it.

His reflex made him turn back and leap from the protruded floor, but the stone floor quickly flipped open downward in half, to reveal a very dark below.

His leap of faith in the intent of escaping the trap has failed, and he was helplessly sent down to such a dark fate, into the darkness below.

After a brief moment...

*Bump

*Slide

He fell face first, crashing into some sort of a stone slide, he rolled and scrambled but, in the process, he lifted both of his arms to brace his neck and head.

Until he manages to make himself slide into a proper position with some scrapes and minor wounds he can't avoid.

"Shuushhh...Shuushhh...Shush....!"

His eyes widened, clenching his teeth into a manic smile. He breathes heavily as if the air were bursting from his teeth and lips that are busted.

But he is used to such moments, as the reaction has become his mannerism. He fears every threat that came before him, he is afraid of what might come next, but, instead of having this emotion best for him, he turns it into a thrill.

As he was more afraid of dying without doing anything, to escape from such an ill fate, as he thinks, he only deserves a grandiose and explosive death.

"What a fun way die, how nice!"

He complained as his arms were locked into a cross to stabilize himself that is sliding.

He could only expect the worst to happen, landing in a pit filled with stakes or spears, scorching lava, or some carnivore creatures that wait for him below.

And he could only prepare, to lunch himself quickly from the sliding plane. He peeks on his below, it is dark and empty.

Until, some sort of an opening become visible from the darkness below him, and he prepares to time his lunch correctly.

And as he was about to reach the end of the slide, he jumped and landed safely with a safety roll.

Therefore as he rolls, he felt that his body pressed something, which might be a pressure plate from the stone ground.

He's been to places, and he was sure what would come next. He hastily recovered, standing to untie his tattered scarf, spreading it into swaying it around in a desperate attempt to catch the incoming projectiles with the scarf, and he becomes sure that it was flying arrows as it struck the scarf.

With luck, he managed to overcome the arrow trap. He sees that his scarf were pinned by counts of arrows, he imagined if he doesn't escape, he could become a human pincushion.

And he realized that his right shoulder and one of his legs were hit, but, instead of complaining and trying to tend to it fully, he just snapped it, leaving the arrowhead in his wounds.

"This ain't new."

He told himself as something like that wasn't anything new for him, to only walk with a dry smile as he chose to endure it.

And as he progresses, the torches decorated in the walls were lit by themselves.

He moves forward to be greeted by a swinging guillotine that he passed through with ease.

"Classic."

His advance was halted, as a curtain of dripping, bright green dense liquid was blocking the path.

"Well, that's a first."

He commented then inspected the dripping liquid. He searched his pocket for something he could douse it with.

A twig was pulled out from his pocket, and he doused the liquid with it. But, as soon as the twig touches the liquid, it burned and melted instantly.

"High-potency acid? Scary."

He grinned and a grain of sweat appeared in his temple after witnessing the capability of the liquid to consume his flesh.

Therefore, as he was stuck in the daze against the liquid, he noticed that the dripping of the acidic liquid suddenly become insistent.

Unexpectedly, a small hole formed was formed in the middle of it, which soon became an opening.

Until dripping acid came to a halt and without a second thought he leaped through it. He doesn't know there is a very small drop of the acid that lands on his back as if the trap tells him that he should have a small taste of it at least.

*toss...

He heard the hiss of the dew drop of acid that burns through his clothing and skin.

"Uhmmmmphh...."

He tried to endure the sting.

"AHHHHHH!!!!"

The sensation of the sting melting his skin is new and overwhelming even though it is just a small dewdrop of that acid. And he can't help but yell out the pain he feels from the sting.

"Shushhh~"

"...shusshhh~"

"AHHH!"

He was skippy as he removed his leather chest armor and wiped off the liquid by pulling the ends of his shirt and using it to scrub along his back.

Finally, the burning sting is gone and the acidic liquid evaporated, but the lasting sting of the small opened wound stays.

"Mphhh... That was annoyingly painful."

His anxiety about what happened is drawn on his face as he wears his leather chest armor again.

After a few moments in his progress, he finally reached the heart of the gallows. Opening old wooden double doors, a wide circular room that is only graced by the light of torches in the stone walls greets him.

The torches also reveal the iron maiden that stands in the middle of the near-empty room. And now, he chose to be careful, as his instincts and senses rang the signal of danger.

He laid down in his spot and inspects any unusual unevenness in the floor and threw stones along the floor, then threw a stone at the iron maiden to check it.

Only hearing a "Thunk~`" and nothing happened, he finally decided to progress into the room.

"The torches can't even kill the cold of this room."

He commented as his eyes roam the walls of the room. And out of a sudden, he felt heavy and his instincts violently rang louder.

A faint sound of wind hissed, and his reflexes made him leap to avoid something that may come with his trained agility.

He felt the incoming wind, and kissed his right lower leg, flying through and away before him.

Landing, he realized he is unable to stand, only kneeled. Then, something fizzing made him realize something, he looked at the lower part of his body and pain started to ring.

Blood was sprinkling from the missing part of his leg that painted the stone floor and his eyes widened in horror, terrified.

He expects, that in the least, the dismembered leg should be lying on the floor.

He also realized that he should at least have seen or heard that his leg was being slashed or flying away.

Without his knowledge, the wind devoured or somewhat removed the part of his right leg that it touches from existence.

Without giving him time to complain or be in pain, the wind roared again behind him. And without any choice but to be in haste, gritting his teeth, braving it, and with the support of his arms, he picked himself up and stood from the blood-painted ground with a single leg.

He skipped forward at a steady pace, to be far from the incoming violent wind, to avoid it.

Hearing the violent wind closing in on him and assuming that it will be flying at him at his chest level horizontally, he decided to let himself fall face first.

But, his assumption was wrong, removing his whole left arm from existence as soon as it connects, as the wind was vertically fluttering.

"....AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

The sudden addition of agonizing

sensation, was now far from bearable, he can't prevent himself to let out a pained scream that harmonizes with the blood fizzing from the arm that he lost as he is now facing the ground.

Without mercy, not giving him a breather, another violent wind came from the ceiling and rushed downward to him, harassing his torso, then devouring it.

"....Blerghh!"

His eyes almost popped out of the sudden pain striking his senses, then, violently puking blood.

The indescribable pain made his senses numb, and he decided to move his head to look ahead, seeing the iron maiden.

He can't feel anything anymore, he crawled his way to the foot of the iron maiden, leaving a trail of blood.

"...this...is...like when...I was on... my...teenage...years..."

He remembered the day in his adolescent years when he avoided being branded as a slave, almost dying because of being beaten to death by handlers in an alley.

When the handlers decided to take a break, leaving him for a moment to buy some cigarettes after seeing he is already hopelessly beaten up, he managed to escape by crawling into an open manhole and letting himself float into the drainage, to escape the handlers that have decided to finish him for good in their late return.

He managed to lift himself, to lay his back against the iron maiden.

"This is...just...like... the last Christmas..."

He reminisced about a certain Christmas day, in a special event, where dungeon spoils selling price are up by 50%.

He was sabotaged and left behind by his party as a scapegoat for a very powerful boss-class chimera monster in the dungeon tower, due to his weakness, he is treated just like a ragdoll by the Chimera.

Left behind, expected to be dead, the rest of his party celebrated their huge haul of loot and Christmas in a pub as soon as they leave the dungeon tower, completely forgetting about him.

Luckily, when his life force is already faint, enough to make the Chimera think he is dead, he managed to play dead, rest, and sneakily crawl his way out of the Chimera's domain, then successfully makes his way out of the dungeon tower.

And there to live another day, to helplessly see how he was never important to be remembered by anyone, to see that party that left him behind to die celebrating without him.

As he has no family, friends, or anyone he can trust, nor money and power, he cannot even chase after the people that done bad things to him.

He can't think or needs a reason anymore why he has to be with the iron maiden, he just wanted to be in there, letting himself daze in the sight of the bloody floor

"..Even...at death's...door..."

"No one...would...even cry...."

"Nor bury...me..."

"No, would bother...to...remember me..."

Realizing his solidarity even at death's incoming embrace, his sadness holds him tighter than the pain. Then tears were uncontrolled as they drip upon his blood-deprived features.

"....I just...wanted...a fair chance..."

"....to have a....normal life..."

"..to fight...for my dreams..."

"...for greatness..."

"...Blazing...like a Phoenix..."

"...in the...battlefield..."

"...with a fair chance..."

"... I couldn't...even leave... a legacy..."

He has this dream, that if he has a high capability of manipulating fire mana, where he dominates the arena, the dungeons, and the defense against threats upon humanity, blazing everything with Phoenix wings.

".. I..couldn't even...experience."

"...what...romance... from...

" the...novels..truly...is..."

"...to love...a woman...to marry..."

"..to have children..."

"...living in...a log cabin..."

"...by the lake.."

"...and to live a humble..."

"...and contented life..."

"...with someone I love..."

"... at the end of my days..."

He imagined a scenario where a woman

falls for him, he courts her day by day, going on dates, taking care of each other, exchanging wedding vows, raising a loving family, in a log cabin by the lake, and dying just by old age.

"...Ah...I almost forgot..."

"...I'm dying..."

"Maybe...it is..not..that bad.."

"...As...I can...finally..."

"Rest...."

"...And, at least,....i..."

"imagined...my dreams...clear.."

"as.. the..sky.."

".even..in the..bitter..."

"..end..."

"Please...God..."

"..if you are true there.."

"...have my...soul to keep..."

He managed to muster the final strength in muttering his dying words by controlling his breathing.

Unexpectedly, a warm smile formed on his lips, as he at least, had picturesque imagination of his broken dreams before death would help him finally escape such an unfair reality.

He can't hear anything anymore, he can't feel his own body or smell anything anymore.

And his eyes closed their curtains, having no light enter his senses anymore.

Until everything went pitch black.

.

.

.

.

.

"That looks like it. Finally leaving such a cruel reality to be living."

"I wonder... if there is a heaven or hell."

"Or, do you even really exist...God?" written

his thought echoed in the dark space.

"Of course, son. I do exist."

"What!?"

He got an answer to his question, and he was surprised as he doesn't expect someone or something would reply to him.

The voice in his thought resounded as to be from a man and lucid, making him trust that it might be "Him" that he believes accompanies him from birth and helped him even from the toughest parts of his life.

"She wants to hear more of your stories and wants to witness your dreams come true. It is not your time yet because of her."

"Who?"

He asked again.

"Hey, God, who is she?"

"Hey... God, please tell me who she is."

But, his next questions were not responded to even though he started to make his tone louder.

.

.

.

.

Warmth touched the sensation of his skin, and the light that is bundled with it tried to pry open his eyes that have their curtains closed.

"You are not allowed to die yet, as I would like to know more of your stories." A voice of a woman echoed in his ears and the young man bolted into suddenly being seated, having his sight quickly hovering around to check and be wary of his surrounding.

Or rather, to find out whom or where did the voice come from.

"Tell me more of your stories, and once I can finally be free from here, I'll make your dreams come true."

-End of Chapter-