PROLOGUE

In an Unknown Land filled with gloom, death, and—paradoxically—the prosperity of natural resources, there was a place called the Grave of Villages.

It was located right at the heart of the human territory, in the geographical center of this world.

The number of villages destroyed in the area through the millennia was immense, and so were the villages continuously built in the place due to the available resources.

It was also one of the better hunting grounds for low to mid-level fighters because the monsters were not too weak, but not too strong for people above the Villager level. In the terminology from their hometown, it was a perfect 'grinding spot'.

At this time, this was where a small group of foreigners—men from another realm—were staying to train in the most efficient way available to them.

"This place is really creepy," one person said as he chewed on his barbeque, some of the sauce falling on his shoes.

His name was Turbo, a combat medic, though at this time his main enemy was wasted sauce. The man was not bad-looking (he was even known to be a bit of a male fashionista back home) but his blonde hair had turned taupe from all the grime accumulated from their endless adventures lately.

All his previous cleanliness had long gone down the drain, which had irked him so much when they first arrived at this place but, fortunately, he adjusted well. "I mean, seriously..." he mumbled, looking around.

Even if it was dark, they had enhanced vision and the two moons provided enough illumination for them.

What crept him out was that this place had great resources, but the monster mobs were consistent at certain times.

It was as if the resources were there to attract food for the mobs…

He shivered.

No wonder villages—which only had fighters around level 10 or so—would almost always give way after a while. The consumption of energy and manpower probably couldn't keep up with the barrage of enemies coming at them.

The others didn't say anything, though they understood his sentiment. It was just that they weren't here to stay, only to train, and so that was what they ought to focus on.

Seeing that his teammates were being boring, Turbo looked around and realized someone wasn't there.

He frowned. "Where's the captain?" The dark-skinned man beside him looked at a nearby hill, nodding in that direction.

"I saw him go over there."

"Surveying?" he asked. "It's our third day here..." "Just focus on your own food, Turbo." A voice next to them sneered, before taking away the remaining barbecue stick.

"Hey!" The blonde frowned and glared at the newcomer, who was crossing his arms as he stood above them, arrogantly holding someone else's food. 

Jake was a man with quiff hair that he somehow managed to maintain despite their lack of resources. He ate the food he 'borrowed' in a few bites, making the other gasp.

The man didn't seem affected by the stares and met Turbo's eyes. He pointed at him using the now-empty stick.

"Don't talk behind the Captain's back! Don't you know he has eyes everywhere?" The others were prepared to beat him up but then he looked in a direction, shoulders slightly slumped. "He… probably just wanted to be alone for now."

He would've looked cool and introspective... had he cleaned up the remainder of the sauce on his mouth.

So he still received that small beating regardless.

...

At this time, the aforementioned 'Captain' stood still above the hill, his form illuminated by two moons. His handsome silhouette formed a contrast to the otherwise desolate view. His body was tense and alert, ready for whatever major changes would occur in a while.

However, he also knew that night would be quiet for a bit longer, so he allowed himself a moment of respite. He knew that he wouldn't be able to rest for a long time after the fight began, after all.

The man took out a phone from his void space, his sharp eyes immediately softening as he saw the image of his beloved.

A small smile crept up his lips, making his features even more prominent. Normally, the man had an undeniable aura of masculinity and strength—the type of person who demanded attention wherever he went.

At this moment, however, he was alone, somber, and simply looking intently at the photos on his palm. He now revealed a rare vulnerability that had only ever been visible to one person.

Unfortunately, that person wasn't there with him.

But, unlike the others who had lost hope, he refused to believe he wouldn't be able to go back to her.

He would reunite with her—he felt it in his bones.

Even if he didn't, he would find a way to make it happen.

As he stared at her lovely image, his striking blue eyes shone like sapphires even in the night. They not only reflected the light of the two moons, but they also shone with the light of determination and longing.

"My wife…" He said, tone filled with tenderness. "Wait for me…"

However, the screen abruptly went black. He frowned, his face paling as he saw that his phone's battery was dead.

In this world where there was no electricity, would he be able to see her image again?

His jaw hardened at the thought of not seeing her again while he remained in this hell. The softness in his eyes transformed into one of annoyance and bitterness.

If any one of his teammates were there, they would fear for their lives. This happened to be the sight that one of his subordinates, his right-hand man, ended up seeing.

The newcomer was also quite dashing, with prominent features, lean muscles, and shoulder-length hair flowing with the wind. He had pale skin not fit for a soldier, but his sharp demeanor would shut up anyone who dared point it out.

His edge faded as he felt the atmosphere surrounding the Captain turn cold—literally. He shivered a bit, but he quickly gathered himself and walked to the man he respected the most.

"Captain Garan," he said, getting straight to the point. "They're here."

With his words, the remaining vulnerability in the man's eyes was replaced by his characteristic sternness. His well-defined jaw tightened in seriousness, as he turned to move, walking past his right-hand man.

"Let's go," The ebony-haired man said, his deep resonant voice echoing across the eerie hill.

They joined with the few dozen soldiers from their homeland—an air of gravitas that demanded everyone's respect oozing off of him.

They stood in a formation, waiting for the arrival of creatures they never thought they'd see outside of horror movies.

Soon, the black wave of such grotesque monsters appeared in their line of sight, sending shivers down their spines.

The Captain, however, was unmoved, and his stability affected his people. He did not say anything to them—as he had already told them everything he could in their hundreds of battles together—but his very presence calmed down whatever anxiety they were feeling.

Instead, he walked forward, posture erect, with his every movement exuding strength and discipline. He walked toward the approaching mob and their grotesque forms soon came into view.

Within a few blinks, a monster faster than the others quickly reached him. Garan raised his arms and the air around him shifted. The temperature dropped, and a small patch of land under him froze solid, and the ice quickly spread to ensnare the monster's feet.

ROAR!

The monster desperately struggled to escape, causing some cracks within the ice. Garan quickly took out a weapon from his space, not intending to give it a chance to free itself.

The sharp edge fell with impressive force, beheading the monster. He used the same movement to defend against a new monster that similarly closed the distance between them.

Meanwhile, the rest of his team had also sprinted to the mob, their hands gripping various weapons, while at the same time, a supernatural aura emanating from them.

As they met with the monsters head-on, different elements—whether it was fire, earth, water, or wind—illuminated the dark skies. From afar, one would think that this small group of people was going to drown in a sea of ravenous monsters.

However, Garan believed in his people. He knew they could still handle a low-level mob like this.

With this thought, he quickly moved deeper into the mob to kill more of these beasts.

His eyes were shining with determination with every swing of his sword, and every stab of his ice ability.

This was the time for them to fight and become stronger. Only in this way could they have the ability to return home.

And he would definitely go back to her—whatever it took.