A light rain fell throughout the night, but it was not enough to drown out the screams, the cries, or the sound of dimensional fractures growling across the sky of Verlyn.
After the clash with the remaining 9 Fog Walkers, Verlyn looked like a city awaiting its final verdict. Buildings were cracked, streets split apart by miasma energy that continued to seep from the direction of the dungeon, and the sky still displayed purple lines like the scars of a giant wound.
Sakuya Makoto stood on the inn's balcony, his face pale, his clothes covered in bloodstains and soot that he had not yet had time to clean. Lyona slept restlessly in the back room; exhaustion and the confrontation earlier that day had caused her to collapse.
Makoto stared at the city.
There was no warm light.
No sound of markets.
No laughter of children.
All of it was replaced by suspicious stares, whispered accusations, and a widening distance between himself and the townspeople.
"Why did all of this start happening after that Fog Walker arrived?"
"That kid… the one with white hair… he's strange. He brings misfortune."
"That rift appeared when he was here!"
Those whispers had been stabbing at his ears since that afternoon. He knew most of it was fear without direction. However… some of it was clearly being guided.
Something intelligent.
Something watching.
Something that wanted him to collapse.
Makoto felt that strange throbbing in his head again — like a faint voice forcing its way inside.
"All of this chaos is his fault… Marchaos' fault… kill him, and everything will be over…"
Makoto shook his head quickly, biting his lip until it nearly bled.
Not the voice of the townspeople.
Not the voice of his own thoughts.
A voice of manipulation.
The Main God.
Makoto did not know the name of that entity, but he knew its motive:
to separate him from Marchaos, to make him believe that Marchaos was the source of the disaster. To shape a narrative that Makoto was nothing more than a pawn.
And the pressure grew deadlier with each passing day.
---
Dungeon Waves Increase
At midnight, a violent tremor shook the earth. Makoto grabbed the balcony railing with all his strength.
BRAGHHH!
A wave of energy exploded from the northern part of the city. Thick miasma surged out like the breath of a dragon rising from the depths of the world.
Makoto moved instinctively.
His body reacted on its own, as if following a new instinct that had formed over the past few days.
Extreme adaptation.
Accelerated combat instincts.
Sharpened focus.
Since the Fog Walkers had begun targeting him, Makoto's body had changed. As if it were being forced to evolve, as if his brain were accelerating its ability to understand and respond to threats.
He felt buffs he had never possessed before:
drastically increased danger perception,
faster reflexes,
a stronger awareness of dimensional energy.
"This isn't Marchaos' power… nor is it from this world…" Makoto muttered softly.
It was as if the world itself was forcing him to survive.
---
The Royal Army Arrives… Late and Not Enough
When Makoto descended into the streets, he saw the banners of the Kingdom of Ardestria in the distance — around two dozen knights entering Verlyn with cautious steps. They had clearly heard the reports about the rifts, the monsters, and the rampaging Fog Walkers.
But their numbers were far too small.
The increasing dungeon waves could not be held back by two dozen knights, especially with dimensional rifts splitting open at three different points.
Their commander, a large man with a gray beard, approached Makoto with a deeply furrowed brow.
"Fog Walker… you are the one named Sakuya Makoto, correct?"
Makoto nodded slowly.
The commander stared at him with eyes full of suspicion and exhaustion.
"Listen. We've received reports that you are one of the causes of these rifts."
He continued before Makoto could respond, "However… there are also reports that you fought against ten rogue Fog Walkers. Very inconsistent."
Makoto let out a breath.
"Believe whichever version you want. But the dungeon waves aren't over. Your forces aren't enough."
The commander clenched his teeth. "We know. The kingdom only sent an advance force. Major reinforcements will take three days to arrive."
Makoto almost laughed bitterly.
"Three days? This city might not survive even one more day."
"That's the reality of politics," the commander replied grimly.
---
The Rifts Go Mad
ZZZRAAAKKKKKK!
The largest rift — gaping above the Verlyn Guild headquarters — expanded to twice its previous size. Purple energy mixed with black swept through the air like scorching wind that burned the lungs. Shadow-shaped monsters began crawling out.
Makoto drew his short blade.
Lyona, who had just awakened, ran over while gripping her staff. Her hair was messy, her eyes red with exhaustion, but her resolve had not broken.
"Makoto… we have to help the people. If this city falls, they'll blame you forever."
Makoto looked at her.
Lyona's face was weary, yet she never left Makoto's side — and that made his chest feel slightly lighter.
"…Alright. We start with the eastern rift. Commander, direct the knights to the southern point."
The commander stared at him for a long moment, as if judging whether Makoto intended to trap them.
But in the end, he nodded.
"Fine. But remember… we're watching you, Fog Walker."
Makoto did not reply.
---
Marchaos Watches
As Makoto and Lyona ran toward the eastern rift, a dark figure stood atop a partially collapsed tower. Its silhouette was nearly invisible, blending into the dark rift — only faint red eyes occasionally glimmered.
Marchaos.
Makoto from the future.
The anomaly hated by the Main God.
The "bug" that should not exist.
He watched everything in silence.
Not offering direct help.
Not intervening.
Only… observing.
"Your adaptation is fast, far faster than mine was back then…" Marchaos murmured quietly.
"That god is becoming more aggressive. And you… Makoto… are being pushed toward the same decision I once made."
The rift wind tugged at his black cloak. He closed his eyes.
"The question is… will you choose the same path?"
Marchaos vanished back into the side dimension — like mist swallowed by shadows.
---
The City of Verlyn Becomes a Breaking Point
Makoto and Lyona arrived at the eastern rift. Shadow monsters poured out in insane numbers. Local knights were thrown aside one by one, despite using all their abilities.
Makoto stepped forward, his gaze sharper than it had been just days ago.
The rift pulsed like a heart.
Makoto felt another energy beyond it…
as if there were an invisible hand forcing the rift to open wider.
The hand of a god.
"Damn it…" Makoto tightened his grip on his blade. "He really wants to destroy this city."
Lyona stood beside him. "Makoto… don't face this alone. You're not the cause of all this."
Makoto shook his head.
"But I am… the center of it."
He looked at the rift once more.
"And this city… is starting to hate me."
Taking a deep breath, he leapt into the battlefield.