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There exists a tale from another world—a world steeped in fantasy, shaped by medieval civilization, and marking the end of an era when gods once walked among mortals.
Due to the presence of these gods, countless dangers and unimaginable creatures continued to emerge. Endless wars ensued, claiming innumerable lives. In the end, the gods emerged victorious. Yet, upon witnessing the world they had ravaged with their own hands, they chose to abandon it—leaving those external threats to be dealt with by mere mortals.
In one particular year of this new era, a man was born with a simple dream: to become an adventurer.
This man was extraordinary. From the moment he chose this path, he accomplished feat after feat—conquering dungeons, slaying external threats, and displaying strength and skill beyond comprehension.
Until one day, he reached the peak. There was nothing left to achieve. No challenges remained.
The people of this world knew him as the Lone Wolf, an adventurer who always moved alone, without a party. But that name was far too common in this world.
In a place known as the Abyssial—a region where monsters capable of toppling entire kingdoms roamed.
However, despite their immense power, the monsters there were not aggressive and preferred to avoid conflict.
That was until one day, a man arrived—challenging them.
"Haah... What a disappointment. I thought you'd be more entertaining, but this is all you've got?" I muttered, my voice laced with frustration.
"..."
"Yeah, I guess I overestimated you," I sighed, glancing around—the battlefield littered with corpses, their blood soaking the ground. "But at least you gave me a bit of an adrenaline rush... even if just barely."
The monster I had just defeated was different. It possessed intelligence, and during our exhausting battle, I heard it speak several times in a language I couldn't understand.
Was it the language of the gods? Or something else? It didn't matter.
"Fuuuh..." I let out a long breath before sitting on its head. My longsword was still embedded in its forehead, pulsing faintly as if it still carried the remnants of our battle. My gaze drifted toward the vast expanse of the Abyssial.
"I've come this far… and this is all there is?"
My name is Corrin Syxder. I am an EX-rank adventurer—one who has surpassed the limits of mortal comprehension, placing me on par with the gods of old.
Not that I ever wanted it—it just happened.
How long have I lived like this?
Completing quest after quest. Defeating one threat after another.
I only wanted to be an adventurer, yet the world kept pushing me higher, beyond the reach of ordinary people. Until finally, I found myself standing here—on the forbidden lands of the Abyssial—without a clear purpose.
"Hey, you're still alive, aren't you?" I tapped the head of the monster beneath me. Its body had gone cold, but something felt off. I could sense a faint tremor from within.
"Well, either way, we're both going to die," I muttered, lifting my gaze toward the dark mist surrounding this place. The thick, poisonous miasma slithered like a living entity, filling the air with a cursed energy that gnawed at my body. I could resist it, but that didn't mean I was immune.
I chuckled softly, my laughter hollow in the silence of the Abyssial. "I bet you're pissed, huh? You hid underground all this time, avoiding conflict, yet you still got dragged into it. I'm not saying this is fate... but yeah—" I shrugged, looking up at the dark, starless sky. "Sorry. For the sake of everyone in this world, I have to end the old era so that a new one can flourish."
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the creeping cold seep into my bones. "Ridiculous, isn't it?"
"..."
No response. Of course. The monster was already dead.
"Mmm, yeah… ridiculous." I exhaled deeply, feeling the strength slowly drain from my body. "Haah… in the end, I guess I'm going to die too. But now that I think about it, dying here doesn't seem so bad."
A strange sensation spread through my chest—a hollow emptiness that had always been there but now truly gnawed at me.
"If there's one thing I regret..."
I stared at my hands—the same hands that had wielded a sword, slain monsters, and brought peace to the world.
"Why was I never able to enjoy my youth…?"
I once believed that being an adventurer was everything. That reaching the peak was my ultimate dream. But I was wrong.
I never had companions. I never shared laughter around a campfire after a long journey. I never had someone waiting for me to return from a dangerous quest.
I never fell in love.
The wind of the Abyssial howled, carrying the swirling shadows around me. The miasma seeped past my final defenses, and my consciousness began to fade.
"If only… I could live again…"
The dark sky blurred as my vision dimmed. My voice grew weaker, almost a whisper.
"If I could reincarnate…"
Blood trickled from my lips, my body growing weightless.
"I would definitely… fall in love…"
And then, silence engulfed the Abyssial.
Corrin Syxder, the adventurer who had surpassed all reason, took his final breath.
But his story—was not over.