The last sparks of battle died away, leaving behind a suffocating silence, broken only by the harsh, uneven breaths of the exhausted. The forest stood still, as if it, too, were catching its breath after the violence.
Lance stepped forward and bent toward Chris, who was barely holding himself upright against the rough trunk of an ancient tree. Without a word, Lance extended his hand.
Chris stared at it.
For a moment, he didn't move. His gaze lingered on the boy's palm—stained with blood for the first time. Not just any blood, but the blood of enemies he had personally struck down. Something flickered in Chris's eyes—shock, realization, perhaps even a trace of pride.
Then, silently, he took Lance's hand.
With effort, he rose to his feet.
No words were exchanged, but gratitude passed between them all the same.
Nearby, Shane dusted off his clothes with cold indifference, as if the battle had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. His voice cut through the quiet, firm and commanding:
"It's over. Gather whatever they left behind. We've got a long road ahead if we want to reach the nearest kingdom.
The others didn't argue.
They moved quickly, searching the bodies of Jeff and his fallen men, collecting supplies, weapons—anything of value. Soon enough, they were ready to move again, and without looking back, the four of them disappeared into the suffocating darkness of the forest.
They had been walking for some time when Shane suddenly stopped.
Without warning, a laugh escaped him.
It wasn't a normal laugh.
It was bitter. Hollow. It echoed strangely through the trees, as though it didn't belong to this world—as though it was meant for someone unseen.
"How ironic…" Shane muttered, his voice laced with something dark. "There was a time when I stood so high… even saints dared not whisper in my presence."
He paused, his smile twisting.
"And now… nobodies like these dare to block my path."
The words struck like thunder.
Chris and Lance exchanged uneasy glances.
A chill crept into the air.
Chris frowned, unable to hold back any longer.
"What do you mean by that, Shane?" he asked, his voice tense. "Who are you… really?
Shane didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he smiled—a quiet, unreadable smile.
Before he could speak, Thantos's deep voice rumbled beside them:
"Are you hiding something that could get us killed?"
For a moment, the forest seemed to lean in, waiting.
Then Shane turned and continued walking as if nothing had happened.
"Every story has its time," he said lightly. "We'll leave the past where it belongs… for now."
No one pressed further.
But the unease remained.
After a long and grueling journey, the forest finally gave way.
On the horizon, towering walls rose into view —massive, unyielding, stretching toward the sky as if defying it.
The Kingdom of Gaven.
At its gates stood heavily armored guards, their expressions sharp and unwelcoming.
"Halt," one of them barked. "State your names and your business in Gaven."
Shane stepped forward without hesitation.
"We're adventurers," he said calmly. "We've completed our work and are here to claim our reward… and to rest."
The guards studied them carefully, their eyes scanning every detail—bloodstains, weapons, exhaustion.
A long moment passed.
Then With a deep groan, the gates began to open.
And just like that, the heart of the kingdom revealed itself.
Inside, the world changed.
Noise. Movement. Life.
Before anyone could get comfortable, Thantos spoke, his tone leaving no room for debate:
"I'll find us a tavern ."
He glanced at Shane.
"You—food."
Then his gaze shifted to Lance and Chris.
"And you two… explore. Learn the streets. Entrances. Exits."
The group split without argument.
Lance found himself alone.
The city was alive in a way the forest never could be—crowded streets, voices overlapping, the scent of food and stone and history blending into something overwhelming.
He walked slowly, taking it all in.
The buildings towered above him, their stone walls whispering stories of time long past.
For a moment… he almost forgot everything.
Almost.
Then it happened.
As he stepped into a narrow alley between two towering structures—He stopped.
A strange sensation shot through his spine.
Sharp. Electric.
His breath caught.
And suddenly—The system appeared before him.
But something was different.
System
Name: Lance
Primary Ability: Between Worlds [Activated]
Secondary Ability: None
Souls: 0
Sacrificed Souls: 0
Revivals: 0
Domain: None
"Activated…"
The word pulsed.
Lance's eyes widened.
And then—
Reality broke.
The alley vanished.
The noise disappeared.
Everything collapsed into nothingness.
He was floating.
Endless darkness stretched around him, filled with distant stars and fractured strands of something… unnatural.
At the center of it all—
A gate.
Massive.
Ancient.
Its surface was covered in symbols he couldn't understand, glowing faintly with an otherworldly light.
Lance swallowed.
Fear clawed at his chest.
Every instinct screamed at him to turn back.
But something else—something deeper pushed him forward.
Something in his blood.
Something that didn't belong to the boy he used to be.
Slowly… he took a step.
And crossed the gate.
The world on the other side was… wrong.
At first glance, it seemed normal.
Trees. Sky. Silence.
But it was too silent.
Too empty.
There was no life.
No movement.
It felt like time itself had stopped breathing.
Lance lifted his gaze.
In the distance, he saw it—A castle.
Massive. Dominant.
As if it ruled over this lifeless world.
He took a step toward it.
Then another.
And then—Everything shook.
A deafening explosion tore through the air, erupting from the heart of the castle.
A shockwave followed.
Violent. Unstoppable.
It hit him like a hammer.
Lance was thrown backward, his body lifted and hurled across the ground.
The castle—
It disappeared.
Gone.
As if it had never existed.
He crashed into the earth.
Pain. Confusion.
Silence.
When he lifted his head, the world had changed again.
No castle.
No trace.
Only a quiet forest.
And behind him—
A river.
Its water flowed gently, peacefully… as if mocking the chaos inside him.
Lance staggered to the riverbank and collapsed, burying his face in his hands.
"Why…?" he whispered. "Why am I here?"
His voice trembled.
"Did I really make such a mistake… to end up in this… painted hell?"
Memories surfaced.
Warmth.
His parents.
A life that felt like it belonged to someone else.
And now?
Now he was here.
Dragged into a world of blood and madness.
Forced to kill just to survive.
Crack.
The sound came from behind him.
Sharp.
Unnatural.
Lance froze.
Slowly… he turned.
And his heart stopped.
They stood there.
The two men he had killed.
"No…" he breathed, stumbling backward. "That's not possible… you're dead!"
They didn't answer.
They didn't speak.
They weren't human anymore.
Their forms twisted into something dark… something wrong.
Shadows wrapped around them, pulsing with a terrifying power far greater than what they had possessed in life.
They moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
They lunged.
Lance ran.
He didn't think.
He didn't look back.
He just ran.
Branches tore at him as he pushed through the forest, his breath ragged, his chest burning.
But it wasn't enough.
His body gave out.
He collapsed.
Hard.
His vision blurred as he turned his head—
They were still coming.
Relentless.
Unstoppable.
Desperation took over.
He crawled, dragging himself across the ground until he found a large rock and pressed himself behind it, trembling.
This was it.
The end.
He shut his eyes.
And in the darkness—
He saw them.
His parents.
Smiling.
Warm.
Safe.
For a moment… he was a child again.
Then—
The sky split open.
A blinding force descended—
Two bolts of lightning.
One white.
One black.
They struck the ground before him with overwhelming force—And the world shook.