The iron scent of blood hung heavy in the air. The battlefield seemed eternal, a grave of horrific shapes—twisting man-wolves, jagged teeth, and broken limbs, their coats matted with dark slather and ichor. Their bodies were already beginning to blink, dissolving into dim motes of white light that drifted slowly into the void overhead.
And then—
Thud.
A body tumbled to the blood-drenched ground, but this one wasn't a monster.
A lone adventurer lay sprawled on his back, breathing heavily as the crimson aura surrounding him flickered and faded like dying embers.
"Still no boss…" he groaned, throwing one arm across his eyes.
"Where are we now, Klein?"
The speaker, a brawny man with scars sprawling his revealed arms, yawned as if he had just awoken from a nap instead of a bitter fight. He sounded exhausted, but his face had an odd satisfaction on it.
Klein sat on a rock next to him, sighed, and looked at the glowing interface in front of his eyes.
"That was wave ten."
The lying adventurer sat up, wild, tired-eyed disbelief burning in his eyes.
"Wave ten?!," he said, running a hand through his sweat-drenched hair. "We've been here nearly a month, you know that?"
Klein chuckled, entertained by the response. "So even the great Berserker knows how to get tired, huh?"
The Berserker scratched his head sheepishly, then flopped back down. "Everyone knows that long fights like this are my weakness." There was frustration and boredom in his voice. "I'm actually lucky we share the same system quest."
Klein snapped his fingers, and four dull, colorless stones appeared in his palm. The runes inside barely glimmered.
"How's your runes doing?" the Berserker asked.
Klein sighed, allowing the stones to float slightly, before scattering them and returning them to nothingness. "Still not recovered."
"Honestly, I feel like I'm the lucky one. Runespeaker isn't quite made for giant fights like this."
The Berserker suddenly wailed dramatically, throwing his arms up.
"Ahhh!"
Klein raised a brow. "Screaming like a child—what's the matter now?"
The Berserker jumped up, crossing his legs with a hand under his face. "I want this system quest to be finished already." He groaned once more and then suddenly grinned.
"My reward from the quest is five full levels! Five! After this, I'll be at level 80.'
As he rifled through his pack and magically drew up one or two preserved meals and a flask, Klein shrugged indifferently.
As he spoke, the Berserker's grin stretched ever larger. "And then… that Orc Dominion?" He grinned, his eyes sparkling with certitude.
"By then, it'll be a breeze."
Klein, gnawing at a strand of jerky, hardly raised his eyes.
"You and that again? What is so damned important about defeating it?"
The Berserker cocked an incredulous look before snorting. "You're not from the capital, are you?"
Klein shook his head.
A knowing smirk tugged at the Berserker's lips, leaning in touch, voice dropping lower as if it were a secret. "It was posted by a woman named Amanda. And do you know what the quest reward is?
Klein blinked. "Gold?"
The Berserker chuckled. "No, no, no. She is the reward."
Klein stopped chewing and stared at him, her expression unreadable. "Is that common for people who can't pay?"
"It is." The Berserker exhaled. "But Amanda is not common." His voice became wistful and he looked toward the ceiling as if imagining something divine.
Klein raised a brow. "What, is she a noble or something?"
The Berserker let out a dreamy sigh. "She's like… a goddess. Like an elf who has fallen straight from the sky."
Klein gave him a blank stare. "…Sure."
The Berserker laughed at the plain skepticism. "Tsk. You think I'm kidding, but just wait until you see her." He leaned forward. "I'm telling you, she's the kind of woman that can bring a war-hardened system user to drop his sword."
Klein smirked. "And yet nobody has taken the quest?"
The Berserker smiled, "It's because of the system quest season. Everyone's too busy getting ready for the legendary World Event."
"While all those idiots are busy with that, I'll take Amanda for myself."
Klein snorted. "And you don't think any other system user is thinking the same thing?"
The Berserker's expression darkened. "…you're the curse upon my hopes."
Klein chuckled briefly and resumed unpacking their meal, shaking his head. "Keep dreaming, big guy."
The Berserker muttered but still picked up some food Klein had laid out. But beneath his bravado lurked another drive, a sense of determination perhaps.
The two ate as the battlefield surrounding them held an eerie silence. The bodies had long since dissolved into motes of light, and the ground lay empty.
Then—
The floor rumbled.
Klein froze mid-chew. The Berserker's gaze snapped to the expanse before him, his eyes brimming.
The pressure of the air changed; it was thicker, richer, and imbued with hatred. A guttural growl reverberated from the blackness beyond their sight. The flames chewed up the torches stuck into the chamber walls and bled their shadows on the mountains of stone.
The Berserker smiled, energy flowing back into his limbs as he stood.
"…Looks like we won't have to wait much longer."
The golden light of the afternoon streamed into the farmhouse windows as Amanda walked in. There was something ethereal in the way she moved, weightless, as though she had cast off a burden she had been carrying for years.
Leo, resting against the table, glanced up from his seat.
Then, he saw it.
The smile.
Not the weary, rehearsed smile she employed to hide her agony. Not the bitter, resigned one she put on to discuss the past.
No.
This was real.
Amanda had narrated the story for years—how their party had been slaughtered by the Dominion Lord, how Samuel and Claire, his parents, had driven her to flee.
Because she was the only one who could.
The only one who had Recall.
The elven race skill—a spell that allowed its caster to teleport away, but only themselves. It couldn't bear another person. It could save no one except the person who cast it.
So they had made her use it.
And Amanda had lived, for Leo.
While they had not.
That memory had tormented her for twenty years.
But now, the weight of it felt like it was gone.
Leo found no restlessness on her face—none of the bitterness, none of the guilt that all the sweetest fruit in the world couldn't ease.
Only relief.
"It's over." Amanda had a quiet, reverent voice.
She walked in circles, unable to sit still, her hands touching the furniture as if grounding herself in the present.
"Whoever did this… they've freed me," she said softly. Then she shook her head, half laughing. "I don't even know who that person was, but I owe them everything."
Leo watched her, silent.
Then, she hesitated.
Something in her expression had changed—uncertainty where joy had been.
Minutely, she turned toward her bedside.
Leo perked up, his look sharpening with interest.
Amanda reached into the hole and pulled out some sort of wrapped thin fabric.
She went up to him and put it in Leo's hands.
A scroll.
Its edges are worn, its seal long broken.
Leo frowned. "What's this?"
Amanda exhaled. "I gave a request 20 years ago."
A knot formed in Leo's stomach.
"The revenge is what I desired," she said. "For my friends. For your parents. For myself."
He gripped the parchment with his fingertips.
"The reward required was staggering," she continued. "More than I could ever afford."
She looked at him then—steadily, unflinchingly.
"So, I offered myself."
Silence.
Leo blinked. "You—what?"
Amanda took a moment to close her eyes and compose herself. Then she spoke again, her voice measured, calm.
"I offered myself to whoever could clear the Orc Dominion."
Leo stared at her, those words falling over him like a lead blanket.
Amanda went on.
"Quests are sacred, especially to elves," she said. "If someone comes to collect their reward… I won't be able to stop them."
She eyeballed him, dead in the eyes.
"I need you to promise me, Leo." Her voice was quiet but firm."Promise me you won't do anything reckless."
Leo didn't respond.
He wasn't even listening.
He peered and read the contents of the scroll.
Then—
He grinned.
"So…" he said, tilting his head. "So does that mean I get you for the rest of my life?"
Amanda said, winced and scowled, exasperated.
She swatted his shoulder. "Leo, this is serious!"
He laughed and half-heartedly dodged. "I mean, technically—"
"No," she retorted, interrupting him. "Only the one who completed the quest may claim the reward."
Leo's smirk faded.
Amanda sighed, massaging her temples. "I wasn't thinking back then. I was desperate. But what's done is done."
Leo opened his mouth to respond, but—
Bang!
The door slammed open.
The very moment Leo is saying this.
"I defeated the Orc Lord."
The words left his mouth as Ranna burst through the door, dragging Cris in her wake like a sack of grain.
But she stopped.
Cris, mid-struggle, stopped.
Amanda took a sharp breath, stiffening.
Leo's statement weighed heavily in the air, pressing up against the walls, the ground, and their breath.
Cris, who had been scowling defiantly, now simply blinked, his anger replaced instantaneously with outright confusion.
Amanda opened her mouth, but her words got stuck.
The farmhouse, which had been alive with the shuffle of footsteps, the creaking of wood, muffled sounds of some distant life outside—
Went silent.
The curtains stirred only in the faintest breeze.
Then Ranna turned to him, slowly, deliberately.
Her piercing, demanding eyes locked on his.
"…What did you just say?"