Time flows swiftly, carrying within it blessings and curses—scattered at random, sparing no one.
Some are lifted by those blessings, rising beyond their limits… while others are dragged down, consumed by the curses that befall them.
Perhaps the hunters are the clearest example of this truth.
Many perished without purpose, achieving nothing… while others seized the chaos, emerging stronger than ever before.
Among the countless hunters trapped within Old Ashvarn, Ethan Heart stood as a prime example.
A man who exploited every second, every fleeting opportunity, pushing himself to the brink.
He remained alone in the outskirts, slaughtering monsters one after another… until their blood painted the dark streets deeper and deeper in crimson.
A color that clung to the land—coagulated, eternal, destined to stain its corners for years to come.
In the blink of an eye, a full month passed.
