The once-beautiful Earth is now nothing more than a distant memory; its remains are scattered across the universe. Humanity had destroyed itself with endless wars, greed, and the rise of nuclear power. The planet was gone, but somehow, Icarius Fokuna had survived.
In the peaceful village of Tyouga, Icarius stood as the last surviving human. At just fourteen years old, he had managed to escape a fate that should have been deadly. He was hurt, but strangely, he didn't feel any pain. Maybe it was because of the mysterious power he had in this new world.
Sitting on the floor, Icarius took a deep breath and looked at his mother's bracelet—the only thing he had left of her. "I won't forget you, Mom," he whispered. Using his powers, he healed his injuries with ease and stepped outside to breathe in the fresh air. The view from the hill was beautiful—rolling hills and green fields as far as he could see.
But his peaceful moment didn't last long. In the distance, he saw people struggling to climb the hill toward his house. He knew they needed help, so he went to meet them and guided them to the village.
As they reached the village, the chief, Asula, approached Icarius. "Where have you been for the past two days?" Asula asked, his voice serious.
"I... I got lost in the nearby forest," Icarius replied, hesitating. He didn't want to reveal too much.
Asula's eyes narrowed. "That forest is dangerous. Many from the kingdom have gone in to defeat its monsters and never returned. Our village stays isolated for a reason."
Icarius nodded, feeling the weight of Asula's words. "I understand, Chief. I was just trying to prepare for the magic exam in seven months."
Asula's stern expression softened a bit. "It's good to see your dedication, but be careful. That forest is cursed."
Later, as Icarius walked back to his house, he felt a mix of relief and determination. He didn't really need to prepare for the exam—he was powerful enough already. But he decided to focus on learning more about this world and finding a way to make some money.
Standing behind his house, he thought of Boris and his mom. "I need to remember them," he said quietly. So, he built a gravestone for them—a small but beautiful tribute to the people he had lost.
That night, Icarius slept peacefully, far from the chaos of his original world. When he woke up the next day, he had a new goal. He was going to become a wandering trader, but first, he needed to buy the right equipment.
He started by checking the prices of horses and a large cart. "How much for the big cart?" he asked the shopkeeper.
"85 silver coins," the man replied.
Icarius's eyes widened. That was a lot of money, especially for someone who had nothing. "I'll buy it in a week," he promised, not realizing how impossible that would be until he walked out of the store. "What was I thinking? I'm broke."
Determined, Icarius looked for a way to earn money. He found an office in the village that was connected to a guild in the nearby city of Gyrok. They paid for monster parts—like the head of a green dragon or the arm of a goblin. The stronger the monster, the more money they offered.
"This could work," Icarius thought. "But I'm running out of time." The office was closing in two days because of financial problems in the main guild. "I need to find something valuable fast," he muttered, feeling the pressure. "If I want that cart, I have to make this work."