In the midst of a swarm of monsters, Nazari stood firm like a brave cat facing danger. It was a terrifying situation, with escape feeling impossible. Yet, undeterred, Nazari fought back fiercely, like a cornered cat defending itself with all its strength.

Amidst these perilous circumstances, his mind and heart seethed with unyielding fury. An unquenchable fire raged within him, aimed at the Black Fenrir that had devoured his companions and departed. He also carried the weight of worry for Elijah, feeling the burden of what had happened pressing upon him.

A sense of self-hatred crept in. He kept thinking that if he had gone alone and been stronger, perhaps Elijah and Khyne wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe if they hadn't crossed paths with him, then misfortune wouldn't have attached itself to them. He blamed himself, feeling as though he had led them to their deaths.

'It was all my fault.'

Nazari swung his broken swords with all his might, trying to hit the goblins closing in on him. But his attacks were messy, and the goblins easily dodged most of them. They scratched and bit him in return, taking advantage of his clumsy fighting.


He was new to all of this, and it showed. The goblins saw his vulnerability and attacked fiercely. Nazari managed to take down only two goblins, and the others had just a few shallow cuts. He was so weak that only five goblins bothered to attack him, while the rest, along with the orcs and kobolds, just watched. It was strange—usually, these territorial monsters acted on instinct, but now it felt like someone was making them do this.


Nazari struggled to defend himself, his every move seeming like an invitation for the goblins to hurt him more. The monsters circled him, almost playing with him. It was like a weird, deadly game, and Nazari was the one losing.


"Kereke!" a little goblin chuckled, sneaking up on Nazari's exposed back. With no second thought, it jumped wildly and stabbed him. The rusty blade went right through his chest.


Nazari stumbled ahead, pain ripping through him, blood streaming from his mouth and chest. It felt like he was being strangled, fighting just to catch a breath. Oddly, a smile crept onto his face as he looked up at the sky.


It was as if he were casting a curse upon the world.


Nazari bit down on his lips, fighting against the alluring grasp of death. "If I'm going down, it won't be without a fight..." The knuckles on his weapon tightened as his gaze bore into his target. In that fraction of a moment, the tiny goblin froze, incapable of moving while locked in a stare with Nazari. Without hesitation, Nazari swung his sword, the blade cutting through the air with deadly precision, effortlessly severing the monster's neck. The head soared through the air, and as Nazari watched the gruesome spectacle, a chilling realization dawned upon him.


'I'm sorry... Zarani... Nobelle...'


In the face of death, he understood that this time there would be no chance to see Zarani again or to rescue the village children. Regret gripped him like a vice.




Simultaneously, as the severed head dropped, Nazari's body collapsed heavily onto the harsh ground, succumbing to unconsciousness. The battlefield around him blurred and faded, leaving him stranded in the void between wakefulness and impending darkness.


The goblins, giddy with anticipation at their prey's impending death, erupted in manic laughter. Their chilling voices reverberated through the surroundings, creating a macabre symphony in celebration of the upcoming feast. With eager fervor, they leaped towards Nazari, hungering for the taste of fresh human flesh. Yet, in a bizarre twist, their jubilant cries turned into terrified shrieks as their quivering hands disintegrated.


At that moment, Nazari's body emitted a dense, black smoke. Each monster grazed by it transformed into a dark dust of mana, horrifyingly absorbing into the open wound on Nazari's body, especially into his heart.

His body underwent a gruesome change. The shredded heart and muscles regrew, ligaments and tendons slowly mended, and the skin began to reform. 


Dark and light mana particles swirled in a haunting display, visible and tangible, intertwining but refusing to blend, contorting as they seeped into Nazari's body.

Just then, a thunderous beat echoed through the surroundings, akin to a colossal drum struck in an agonizingly slow rhythm. The ground trembled beneath its intimidating resonance, sending shockwaves through the very core of the world.


As creatures guided solely by their instincts, the monsters were instantly aware that death was closing in. A primal fear gripped them, a chilling awareness that their end was near.

In terror, the monsters scrambled to escape, but their efforts were futile. In just a few desperate steps, their bodies froze involuntarily. Under their feet, ominous shadows sprawled, casting a suffocating darkness across the entire ground.

Unconsciously, their gazes turned towards Nazari. He stood elevated in the air, surrounded by a dense fog of shifting shadows. Even his once silky red hair had transformed into an inky black. What sent shivers down their spines, however, were the pair of radiant jeweled eyes, shining like golden light, glaring coldly at them.


Their very souls wailed in acknowledgment, realizing that this human embodied pure, unbridled fear.


As Nazari lifted his hand, countless water droplets materialized in the air. With a downward motion of his arm, the water transformed into a ghastly black, swiftly piercing through the monsters' bodies like bullets, boring hundreds of holes in their forms.


Their cries were stifled and cut short before they could fully escape their throats. In the blink of an eye, their bodies disintegrated. Everything in Nazari's vicinity crumbled into nothingness. The goblins, the orcs, the kobolds, and even the once lush grasses and trees—all turned to dust. The entire span of a hundred meters around him became a desolate wasteland, devoid of any sign of life.


Just then, the echoes of applause filled the air, accompanied by leisurely footsteps. Since Nazari first set foot into the Nabishi forest, this young man has observed, predicting every move and decision Nazari would make.


Dressed entirely in black, from his hair down to his shoes, even the blindfold he wore, the young lad bowed slightly, hand over chest, a wide smile etched across his face.


"This humble disciple welcomes the Omniscient Shadow. Welcome home, Master."