Wastelanders

The Wastelanders. A faction made purely of people who were stranded on the Beast Continent and had learned to survive in its deadliest environments.

It was known worldwide that the Beast Continent was primarily untouched by the Hero Association. Unlike in most parts of the world where they had numerous stationed Heroes, the Beast Continent was left alone.

This was because of the continent's unforgiving landscape. It was a place that held the strongest of storms, the driest of deserts, and the deadliest of blizzards.

Due to there being an extremely low number of mana users in the Beast Continent, its mana levels are particularly high. This allowed hundreds of anomalies to swoop down on the island, changing it completely.

The Wastelanders were made up of people who were mysteriously brought there without any answer.

Their leader is a fierce man known as the Nomadian, a man who has been said to have gone to the northern region of the continent populated by frozen storms and giant beasts and returned alive after two months.

During those two months, Nomadian learned to wield his powers and then went on to establish the Wastelanders.

Since then, Nomadian has sent out multiple search groups into the continent's outskirts, looking for any stranded individuals.

This was the person the caller's supervisor was now trying to reach.

***

*ring*

"..."

*ring*

"..."

*ring*

"For fucks sake! Answer the damn phone yourself, Nomad!"

A woman of short stature pushed open the door. Her hair was blonde, and her general appearance was dirty. There was dirt and mud scattered across her mechanic-like clothes.

"Fucking hell… how could a guy so revered by the people not even be able to get out of bed? Talk about being the opposite of what his name implies."

"Hi, yes? Who is this?" The woman picked up the phone.

"Hmm…uh-huh. Yep, yep. I see."

"Gotcha. I'll send your message over to Nomadian. Thanks for letting us know."

And with that, the phone call ended just as quickly as it started. The woman pulled the door open and left.

But she forgot to do one thing: actually, put the phone back.

"Hello? Didn't you hear me? There's a strong amount of mana converging there. We'll try to send reinforcements of our own."

***

"Gah, that hurt… my ass."

Wang Jin stood up, placing his weight on a nearby bench. He was finding it difficult to move his lower body, particularly due to earlier.

No one noticed it, but Wang Jin had been flung off the infirmary and fell all the way to the ground.

"Hah… how the hell did I survive that."

Wang Jin stared at the giant hole in the infirmary wall. And surprise, surprise, it was shaped exactly like an outstretched Wang Jin's figure.

And if that wasn't enough, the infirmary was located all the way on the higher floors of the Colosseum. He estimated that the fall was at least… really big. He wasn't that great at maths.

"Hold on, I need to rest. Whoo, I'm not gonna be able to walk when I get older."

Wang Jin sat on the bench, still staring at the hole in the infirmary wall.

"I guess I won't be able to get back up there unless I fight through the lower floors again. Oh boy, that doesn't sound like something I can do."

The journey to get to the infirmary was already hard with his teammates but on his own?

"I guess I could look for other people. Digni would want me to help out. Oh, and maybe I'll find Miss Donna along the way."

That was just like Wang Jin. Even in a situation like this, he could still afford to think about women.

***

"Nomad! Open the goddamn door!"

Inside a thinly lit room, a masked man was lying on his bed. He had a reasonably toned body that had tattoos lined all over it.

This man was the "esteemed" figurehead of the Wastelanders, Nomadian.

Despite how the stories made him out to be a great warrior (which he was), he was actually quite lazy. His feats were all true, yes, but there were small… differences between the reality and the stories.

In reality, the great Nomadian was quite lazy. As seen by how he can't even be bothered to get up from his bed.

"I swear, if you don't open this door in the next second, I'll make sure to fry all your followers!"

"Wah! Alright, I'm coming."

In an instant, he was up and at the door, pulling it open for his secretary, the woman known as Cassandra.

"What is it?"

"You idiot, didn't you get my message? There's danger stirring up in the Desertian region of the continent. The Hero Association is asking us for help in taking care of the problem."

The Desertian region was used to refer to the barren wasteland that stretched across the entire southern portion of the Beast Continent. It is home to less than a hundred animal species, and the fauna is only twice that. That was just how devoid of life it was.

It wasn't too far off the mark to say the Desertian region housed many of the Beast Continent's toughest monsters. Being able to survive in a landscape that had constant dust storms alongside the scorching sun.

"The Hero Association, huh? Klein wants our help? There must be something important in that place for him to ask us for assistance."

The Hero Association and The Wastelanders' relationship wasn't exactly terrible, but it wasn't good either. The best way to describe it would be the relationship between two parasites.

The H.A. would call upon the Wastelanders for matters regarding reconnaissance on the Beast Continent. They had always sought to reclaim the fallen landmass from the moment it fell to the scourge.

And to do that, they had to request help from the very people who learned to survive in possibly the most dangerous region on the planet.

The Wastelanders were not one to refuse the H.A.'s pleas, however. The many favors they accomplished for the Association would often hang in the back of Nomadian's mind. He would sometimes stand in place for a short time thinking up ways to get them to owe the Wastelanders a favor.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go."

"Wait, wait. Since when were you so excited about heading outside? Is there something in this that I don't know?"

"Haha, nope." Nomadian waved his hand. "It's just another opportunity for the Association to owe me another favor, nothing more. And seeing as this one is a lot more important than the usual recon missions, then it means a bigger favor."

"That's all you're thinking about in this scenario, you idiot?"

"I'm not just an idiot. I'm your idiot, heh." Nomadian pulled off his oversized arm sleeve, revealing a golden ring encircling his ring finger.

***

"Hmm… maybe I should've brought someone good with directions. Where the hell am I now?"

Wang Jin had been wandering the Academy campus for the past hour. During this hour, he had not run into anyone else. Not even humans, let alone beasts.

And it didn't help that the campus was at least twice if not thrice the size of the Colosseum. It could easily fit in a good portion of the district.

"A sign to tell me where I am, finally!" Wang Jin exclaimed in surprise. He had bumped into a large metal pole in his absentmindedness and almost fell to the floor.

"What does that say…?" The contents of the sign looked tampered with. Scratches, which Wang Jin assumed came from a blade, completely obscured the word.

The only thing Wang Jin could make out from the destroyed sign was that it contained four words. The first "P", the last "K".

"I guess… it could be the park? It probably is. Damn, I'm smart."

And just as Wang Jin had guessed, the sign did indeed signal his approaching of the park. Instead of the futuristic concrete buildings he was used to, his surroundings quickly changed with the rustling of nature.

Shrubbery of every kind scratched against his legs as he made his way through.

"But really… isn't it too misty here?" Wang Jin coughed, using his Wind magic to blow away some of the fog.

He didn't notice it at first, but it slowly but surely made its presence known. The entire park was covered in a thick, dusty mist.

It eventually became so thick that the entire park was shrouded in a deathly fog, threatening to swallow everything inside.

"Blow, blow, blow away."

But no matter how much mana Wang Jin expelled as wind, he still could not find a way to remove that ghastly presence he kept on feeling scratching across his back.

It was oddly familiar, however. The fog carried a certain presence of nostalgia.

And not of the good kind. Wang Jin felt those memories were better locked away in the back of his mind.

Suddenly, Wang Jin noticed a light run past the mist. It was for a short moment, but he was able to figure out that the light came from a flashlight.

"Hey, you lost too? This mist is a real sucker, huh?" He shouted into the darkness.

There was no reply, however.