5 years later

Village Of Alterwood A quiet little village, hidden among lush trees and the ruins of ancient buildings, held forgotten stories of the past. Its small population—only seventy-three people—made it a warm, familiar place, but also left it vulnerable to threats from the outside world. On the edge of the village, near the border shared with the Elf and Beastman territories, stood a modest tavern, serving as a meeting place for adventurers and locals alike.

The sun was still high when a waitress briskly approached a lone adventurer seated in the corner of the tavern. His silver hair shimmered under the sunlight, and his brown armor bore the wear of many battles, making him stand out among the other patrons. His name was Sean. He sat calmly, sipping his drink.

"Are you done, Sean?" the waitress asked kindly.

Sean gave a slight nod. "Yeah, I left the coins on the table."

A sudden scream shattered the afternoon peace, drawing everyone's attention. In the shadowy alley beside the tavern, a young man was thrown violently, his body slamming onto the ground.

"Hey, what should we do with him?" barked a man gripping a scimitar tightly.

"Let's just toss him into the border river," replied a tattooed man nonchalantly, throwing a cracked sword into the encroaching darkness.

The young man lay on the ground, staring blankly at the discarded sword. Heartbroken and defeated, despair crept into his soul as he struggled to process his sudden misfortune.

"Damn mercenaries..." he muttered, frustration thick in his voice, his fist clenching in silent anger.

Without warning, a heavy foot crashed onto his face, stealing his breath and filling him with sharp, blinding pain.

"Did you say something?" snarled the tattooed man, grinding his boot into the youth's face. His shadow loomed, eclipsing what little light remained.

"Could you leave that guy alone?" Sean interjected, scratching his head, attempting to de-escalate the growing tension.

A tense silence followed, broken only by the faint breeze. "H-Him..." someone muttered, voice trembling under the weight of the moment.

"Hey, what's going on?" the tattooed man asked the scimitar wielder.

"H-Hey! Who are you? Mind your own business!" the tattooed man shouted at Sean, his tone turning hostile.

"Wait, are you yelling at him? Do you even know who that is?!" the scimitar man stammered, clearly unsettled.

"Who cares who he is? Just another swordsman like this brat. Nothing to be scared of," scoffed the tattooed man.

"I-I’m not helping you this time. Good luck!" muttered the scimitar man before quickly fleeing the scene.

"Hey! Where the hell are you going? Tch..." the tattooed man shouted, his voice trailing off as the other vanished.

"I'll say it again. Leave the kid alone," Sean repeated calmly, the sharp shadows of midday casting long lines around them.

"And if I don’t? What will you do?" the tattooed man sneered, drawing a massive axe from his back. The sun reflected off its scarred metal.

"I was warned not to kill anyone inside the village... So maybe I'll just scare him," Sean muttered under his breath.

He gripped his sword hilt, eyes narrowing. "Be prepared to lose a limb."

"Heh... You threatening me? Try it if you—"

Slash!

"W-What!?" the tattooed man gasped. Sean's blade hovered inches from his neck.

"Are you sure you want to lose something? If so, I won't hesitate," Sean said, voice eerily calm.

"Ugh... I-I’ll leave..." the man stuttered, trembling as he fled toward the village gate.

"Whew. That worked," Sean muttered, sheathing his sword.

"You alright?" he asked the youth still lying on the ground. His voice was slightly shaky, but full of concern.

"Yeah... just some bruises," the young man said, slowly rising. Pain was clear on his face.

"My sword... I shouldn’t have trusted those mercenaries," he groaned, eyeing the broken weapon with regret.

"Anyway, thanks for helping me—eh?" he turned, surprised to see Sean already walking away.

"Hope the rest of today stays quiet..." Sean muttered, eyes scanning the surroundings.

"Sir, wait!" someone called out, breathless.

Sean stopped and turned, his gaze sharp.

"My name's Shu Sashiki. I’m a swordsman," the young man said, placing his fist over his chest in a respectful gesture.

"So?" Sean replied, puzzled.

"Can I come with you?" Shu asked, eyes gleaming with eager determination.

"No."

"Rejected again... That’s six times now. Five before joining those mercs, and now this," Shu said with a sigh.

"Leave me alone," Sean said bluntly, walking away.

"So cold... Does he even have friends? Maybe I could be the first," Shu mused, quietly following after him.

Sean’s eyes flicked toward a faint glimmer from a jewel tucked into his cloak. Instantly, he closed his eyes and touched the gem.

Less than a minute later, Sean darted off without a word.

"Huh? Where's he going?" Shu muttered.

"I can't fall behind!" he shouted internally, breaking into a run to keep up with the mysterious swordsman.

Path to Temple Garden A thin mist veiled the ancient ruins of Temple Garden. The cobbled road, once the lifeblood of a bustling trade city, was now nothing more than fragments of memory—overgrown with moss and choked by roots. Tall trees stretched upward through the dying twilight, their shadows elongated like ghostly hands reaching for the ashen sky.

Sean walked slowly through the ruins, his sharp eyes scanning for traces of contamination—faint remnants only detectable by those who had once touched its sinister essence.
That evil energy… It wasn’t the usual kind.
Something was different here—something far more sinister than mere corruption.

He halted.
The mist thickened abruptly, descending like a gray curtain from the heavens.

“…This mist…” he muttered. “It’s not natural.”

The wind stilled.
Birdsong vanished.
Silence fell.

Then, a soft chuckle drifted through the fog—gentle like a whisper, yet sharp enough to pierce the ears.

“How interesting… you can feel it, can’t you?”
A woman’s voice. Smooth, with a teasing lilt that pricked like thorns.

Sean turned sharply, drawing his sword from its sheath. The mist obscured his vision, but he could feel it—someone was watching him.

“Who are you?” he asked cautiously. “Come out and show yourself.”

A silhouette emerged through the mist—a young woman in a crimson cloak, standing atop a moss-covered pillar. Her long hair shimmered silver in the dying light, and a faint smile curved her lips.

“How rude… pointing your sword at a lady,” she said playfully.

Sean narrowed his eyes.
“You’re not ordinary. This mist—did you summon it?”

“And if I say yes, what will you do?”

In a blink, Sean dashed forward.
The glint of his sword sliced through the air, aimed straight at her.

“Moon Wave!”

A crescent-shaped arc of light surged forth—but in that instant, the woman vanished. The mist swirled violently in her wake like a vortex.

“Oops, too hasty,” she whispered behind him.

Sean twisted around on reflex and slashed—only to cut through empty air.

She reappeared again, closer this time—standing leisurely atop a collapsed altar, watching him with quiet curiosity.

“I thought you’d be more cautious… especially after seeing what this mist can do.”

Sean scoffed. “Are you part of the contamination cult?”

Her smile widened, but there was no joy in her eyes.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just a bored observer.”

She raised a hand.
A dark blue flower bloomed in her palm—Duskmire Bloom, a rare plant that only grew in places soaked in dangerously high contamination levels.

“Don’t look too hard for answers, Black Sword Knight. Some truths… are better left alone.”

Sean tensed.
“…How do you know that name?”

She didn’t reply.
Only a soft chuckle escaped her lips, and then—her body melted into the mist.

“Wait—!” Sean called out, but it was too late.

The fog began to thin.
The wind stirred once more.
The silence broke.

But she was gone—along with every trace of her presence.
All that remained was the Duskmire Bloom, now slowly withering on the ground.

“…Who was she?” Sean muttered, his brow furrowed.

A sudden rustle broke his thoughts. He turned toward the noise.

“Ugh—ow! Damn this branch!”
A familiar voice.

“Shu…” Sean sighed, sliding his sword back into its sheath.

Shu stumbled out from the brush, dirt smudging his face and breathing ragged.

“Hey! Finally caught up! You walk way too fast, y’know?”

Sean shot him a glare. “Why are you following me?”

“Well… ‘cause if I went alone, I’d probably die! And also, I—”

“I told you. Go back.”

“No way! I’m sticking with you until I get enough money and a new sword!”

Sean exhaled a long, tired breath.

“If you die, that’s your problem.”

Shu grinned and gave a thumbs-up. “Got it!”

Sean turned away without another word, his mind still clouded with questions.
Who was that woman in the red cloak?
And why did her presence feel so… wrong?

The entrance to Temple Garden stood like an old witness—long silent, yet never forgetting.
A once-grand gate—symbol of prosperity for an ancient city at the border of three races: humans, elves, and beastmen—now reduced to a crumbling skeleton, fading into history and tragedy.
The carvings on the stone arch had worn away, the emblem of the three races now nothing but faint shadows, marred by the scars of a war that never truly healed. The wooden door, once rich with color, had dulled with time—coated in dust, dried blood, and moss.
The evening wind whispered through the ruins, creaking faintly, as if the corpse of the building itself was trying to speak—of war, of death, of contamination.

The world had long since lost its light.

Before the shattered gate stood two figures—humans. A man in priest robes, and a silver-haired young woman.
The priest leaned weakly against the broken wall, his body slumped, covered in wounds. His right arm dangled uselessly, bleeding heavily, and his face was pale as a corpse. His eyes stared blankly ahead, yet remained alert. Beside him, the young woman knelt, trying to wrap his wounds with a torn piece of her own robe. Her breath was shallow, her hands trembling.

But her eyes had not given up.

Footsteps echoed—boots striking the stone ground, approaching steadily.

From behind the ruins, Sean appeared.
His black cloak fluttered gently behind him as his sharp gaze swept across the scene, finally locking onto the priest and the girl.

“Are you two alright?”
His voice was flat, but a subtle tension ran beneath it.

The priest raised his head with great effort. His eyes, bloodshot from fatigue, met Sean’s.

“That ogre... shattered my arm. I can’t use healing magic… and I’m out of potions.”

“Me too.”
The young woman added quickly, biting her lip in frustration—not at Sean, but at herself, for being unable to do more.

Sean nodded slightly and glanced around.
The air still carried faint traces of contamination—like invisible poison clinging to the world.

“You two fought that ogre, then?”

“…Yes,” the woman answered quietly. Bitterness edged her voice.
“Thank the gods… you came just in time.”

Sean knelt, examining their injuries more closely. He murmured,

“Are you the only survivors here?”

The priest turned his face away, his jaw clenched.

“No… the others are dead. That ogre… we thought we defeated it… but it rose again. Stronger. More feral.”

“What? It came back after being killed?!”
A new voice interrupted—Shu emerged from behind a collapsed pillar, face pale with shock.

The girl nodded, her voice growing faint.
“It must be… one of those contaminated monsters. We weren’t ready for that kind of power.”

Sean closed his eyes for a moment, frustration boiling beneath his calm expression.

“…Damn it. I was too late.”

“Hey, Sean. Why the silence?”
Shu’s voice broke the stillness, but Sean didn’t respond.

Instead, he opened his magic satchel and took out two small vials filled with a translucent green liquid. He placed them on the ground in front of the priest and the girl.

“Drink these. Then get out of here. The road to the village is clear—for now. No monsters should be nearby.”

The priest looked at the potion as though it were a divine miracle.
“Thank you… sir. You’ve saved our lives.”

The girl could only nod, her voice catching in her throat.

Sean stood and looked deeper into Temple Garden—toward the valley veiled in dark aura and lingering miasma.

“All that’s left… is to deal with that monster.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. His figure vanished into the ruins, leaving behind only swirling dust and wind.

“Ah! H-Hey! Wait up!”
Shu shouted, scrambling after him with uneven breaths.

The girl watched as Sean disappeared into the mist of the ruins, then whispered:

“He… he’s different.”

“That’s the Black Sword Knight,” the priest said quietly, gazing toward the darkening sky.

“The last contamination slayer left in Alterwood… and our only hope for this city.”