Currently, the external threats to humanity refer to monsters.
However, civil wars among humans are not non-existent.
In fact, if anything, they are more frequent now, yet they don’t reach the manic scale of world wars like before the great upheaval.
The reason is simple. There is no room for it. Even in this so-called era of peace, such was the case.
Even now, somewhere, there are praises sung about how the dark ages and turmoil have passed, and a peaceful era has arrived.
It makes sense.
Comparing the chaos of about 40 years ago to now shows a night-and-day difference.
It’s normal for people to die at the hands of monsters. Yet, cases of thousands being wiped out in a single night by hordes of monsters are rare nowadays.
The emergence and collapse of dungeons are dangerous. However, it is uncommon for dozens of dungeons to burst open in succession, wreaking havoc and spewing forth hordes of monsters like in the past.
I haven’t even seen reports of a high-level monster rampaging and destroying a city. Such news was quite common in the past.
It’s not strange to think that peace has descended in many ways compared to the past.
Among the elements that led to such peace, Shio-ram was an indispensable existence, and for those who wish for chaos in the world, Shio-ram was one of the most obstructive elements.
Shio-ram, established over a century ago.
Naturally, there have been countless schemes aimed at overturning it.
According to historical records, there were invasions by monster armies, and I recall schemes by traitors just before pioneering efforts began.
Out of these, not a single one succeeded. Not one exception. Every plot was foiled.
The defenses of Shio-ram are well known throughout the world.
Even the Level 11 spec Golden Warrior found it exceedingly difficult to breach Shio-ram. They had to escape after destroying about half of it.
Upon reflection, it made sense why I was willing to step into the cradle so easily.
The first day was utterly chaotic.
But somehow, I thought I’d be safe here. I figured I could grow and at least buy some time to think.
“Cradle…”
On my way to the gate terminal for an outing.
In a way, it was a temporary step to leave the cradle.
As I toyed with the tips of the sky’s wings, I felt a strange resonance.
Thinking of the name Shio-ram only intensified that feeling.
A cradle. A device to rock and soothe a baby to sleep.
A cradle is a baby product. Naturally, there are no sharp or dangerous elements.
Rather, its role is to protect the baby from outside threats by creating a barrier.
So, am I now a baby crawling out of the cradle with my own limbs?
Such a metaphor seemed trivial. Treating myself like a baby felt embarrassing. But compared to true warriors, maybe being a baby isn’t too far off.
Take Professor Atra, for instance; she’d probably handle me like a baby.
“I’ve set my goals.”
I was undoubtedly safe in Shio-ram. Moreover, I grew rapidly within realistic limits and bought myself thinking time too.
“I will break the curse.”
I absolutely cannot continue living like this. It’s inevitable that people die someday, but…
…aside from some special cases like immortality, it’s unavoidable for people to die, yet I don’t want to live while my enjoyment of life is constrained like this.
So I amassed strength to lift the curse, and now I’m attempting to briefly leave the cradle to find a way around the curse of silence.
“Is this hasty?”
It’s only been a month. I haven’t lived long, but this isn’t enough time to prepare something properly.
Wouldn’t it be okay to invest a bit more time? I could be stronger in just a few months…
Sometimes I feel impatience. Could it be because of the curse of short lifespan, leading me to fear an imminent death?
I hadn’t realized, but I sensed there was another reason too.
Before those thoughts concluded, the structure of the gate terminal came into view.
“Sigh…”
Simultaneously, tension surged within me. A single drop of cold sweat trickled down my nape.
I still couldn’t forget what happened at the gate terminal.
I checked the gate with clumsy spatial perception, observed something, and clearly felt the dread of my head exploding.
“Would it happen now too?”
If it were the past, I certainly would have turned off spatial perception, relying only on hearing and touch to find my way.
I didn’t want to gamble with my life. Maybe with my spatial perception growing, the chances of dying increased too.
But lately, my thoughts have changed.
Spatial perception was the unique ability I used the most and became most accustomed to.
Thus, my understanding of spatial perception gradually increased.
“Haah…”
With a sigh, I shook those thoughts off and moved on. I transformed the fluttering wings of the sky into a coat around me.
The surrounding space enveloping the gate terminal came into recognition. I stepped over it.
I saw facilities including a lounge with few people. I stepped past them.
I did not turn off spatial perception. I moved onward.
And then, a blue whirlpool came into view.
“……”
The space rippled. It was a turbulent flow, appearing to plunge into the center yet also pushing back towards the edges.
It felt similar to the entrance of a dungeon, yet I was aware of the differences.
Moreover, it resembled the spatial movement of the vice president I sensed earlier, yet also differed.
The vice president creates a small hole in space, achieves a purpose, and seals it; whereas, the gate seemed to create a large hole and fix it in place.
Regardless of the method, the result was the connection of spaces with different coordinates.
What matters wasn’t that part.
Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself.
The sense I gained through understanding spatial perception. Now, I might be able to perceive it just a little.
I reluctantly accepted the information I had pushed away.
The gap between spaces. I took the information of the empty space in between.
…
…And nothing significant happened.
“?”
I tilted my head and activated spatial perception.
I felt a void. Between spaces. The abnormal-seeming gap was filled with magical energy.
It was a bit different from ordinary magical energy. It had the density of the inside of a tower and was close to pure, clean magical energy.
Other than that, I felt no particular uniqueness. I felt no brain-shaking shock. I didn’t sense anything monumental either.
It was merely magical energy.
“What is this?”
The result seemed so anticlimactic compared to what I had prepared for.
While absently observing the void, I figured staying here would waste my time, so I proceeded with the procedures at the desk.
“Identity verification completed… Destination set to Edinburgh Gate Terminal. Are there any changes, perhaps?”
[No, it remains the same]
The procedure was simple. Since the entry application was pre-filled, it just took a simple verification to finish.
Thanks to that, there was no waiting time. I headed straight toward the swirling gate.
“…Sigh.”
I gazed once more at the void. Yet again, there was no piercing headache. Something is strange…
I have a nagging feeling. Is there something I overlooked? But nothing particular comes to mind.
I pushed my body into the gate. A dizzying sensation wrapped around me as I crossed the void.
First, I would arrive at the Edinburgh Gate in Scotland.
From there, I would take the train north and search for the hidden piece I remembered. Ultimately arriving at the small town of “Shifnha” in the north, where I’d find the necklace of confession.
It was a suitable plan.
*
Typically, groups of superhumans form a clan.
A clan is a collective of superhumans organized for various interests and safety.
Clans pursue the profits of their members and may, in the process, occasionally violate ethics or rules.
The clan “Guardians of the Northern Mountains,” based in Shifnha, is no different.
They hadn’t committed any enormous crimes. They hadn’t performed evil deeds abandoning humanity.
They merely postponed dealing with a Level 4 dungeon.
The dungeon’s interior resembled caves, and the monster it spawned was the Red Leaf Hound, all of which belonged to standard Level 7.
There were no trap-like elements. It was a simple dungeon where only Red Leaf Hounds appeared.
Red Leaf Hounds are ordinary entities with no special characteristics.
Even a low-grade hero can easily defeat multiple on their own, and a party led by a mid-low grade hero can handle it without strain.
The reason for not putting in effort to obliterate the dungeon was simple.
The fur of Red Leaf Hounds sells for a good price.
It boasts excellent insulation properties and feels wonderful once processed.
Also, being monster fur, it has basic defensive effects and is easy to process.
In short, it is a profitable source. There was no reason to extinguish such a lucrative resource.
Many clans had set up such “fish farms.”
It wasn’t unusual. It was common.
But why were they in such a predicament?
– Crack, crack!
“Ah, ahhhh…!”
Low-level hero Gerard McClay clutched his empty sleeve and rolled on the ground. Beyond the pain, an overwhelming sense of loss drowned his reason.
A chilling sound echoed in the cave, filling his ears.
Gerard raised trembling eyelids and looked towards the source of the noise.
The Guardians of the Northern Mountains were objectively not lacking in prowess.
The number of their members and their ranks were adequate. One flaw was the absence of a representative strong individual, yet there were many capable fighters among them. Managing a dungeon like this was simple.
Mid-level heroes. They could belong to the raiding team of a large clan and could secure a position in lower clans.
– Crack─!
The neck of mid-level hero Robert Brand was bitten into by sharp teeth. His struggling limbs went rigid and soon turned stiff.
The scene of his head, severed from the neck, rolling into the creature’s gigantic maw was vividly visible even in the gloom.
Then came the sound of chewing. That was the cause of the earlier chilling noise. Blood erupted from the severed neck like a waterfall, staining the ground.
– Grrk─
With a rough breath, blood splashed momentarily. Robert’s corpse dangled from the hands of the monster that had crunched down on his head.
The monster raised its arms. Blood gushed forth from the upside-down corpse. The monster opened its mouth again, gulping the spilled blood.
Before him, a monster drank human blood like a beverage. Although some of the blood had soaked its fur, it was already stained a dark red.
Standing on two legs, its size was three times that of an adult man, displaying thick, muscular flesh glimmering through its matted red fur.
The Red Leaf Hound walked on four legs rather than two. Though larger than typical breeds, it wasn’t overwhelmingly so.
It wasn’t strong enough to consume a multitude of mid-level heroes in that way.
The association analyzes monsters after they assess their species and fits them into standard grades.
From the lowest 8-tier to the highest 1-tier.
After determining the strength of the monster, they recommend which grade of heroes or hunters should tackle it.
Yet, they always emphasize not to blindly trust them.
They insist this is merely a standard assessment and that exceptional cases always emerge.
“Mutations…”
That must be such an exceptional case.
An entity that surpassed the limits of its species, receiving backing from a living, active dungeon.
While his field of vision grew darker from the edges, the monster trudged forward.
The corpse held in its grip was already long spent.
The breath of the beast drew nearer. Even as consciousness faded, it exuded an overwhelming hunger.
Gerard instinctively realized how his corpse would be used.
– Snap
“Ugh…”
A gigantic claw embraced his torso. The claw was so massive, only Gerard’s toes and face were exposed to the air. With a dizzying sensation of pressure, his body dangled in the air.
The putrid breath assaulted his face. Soon the broad muzzle opened wide. Between its teeth, the remnants of flesh and bone were clearly visible.
“Damn it…”
What a laughable end.
While knowing that many heroes face unfortunate fates, Gerard never anticipated he would end up like this.
After all, he was called a hero yet now his fate was reduced to fodder for a monster.
“Don’t worry about the fish farm or any of that…”
With late regret swarming in.
– Crack─!
Gerard’s upper body was entirely devoured.
He didn’t even have the time to feel the pain in his final moments.
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