Faint marks expanded across the damp, earthen ground. There were the prints of formal shoes, a smaller pair of boots, and… bare footprints, presumably belonging to a young girl.

The explorer, Wardlin, noticed the echoes of dozens of screams drifting from beyond those faint traces. He followed the trail of footsteps. Before long, he arrived at a startling sight.

“Ke… kheee…”

Whoosh. Rumble.

There lay a pack of mysterious monsters reduced to ash by fire, and Guardians—easily twenty feet tall—crushed to death under massive boulders.

‘What in the world…’

Even the lingering traces of cruel, ruthless Magi remained. Wardlin began to retrace his thoughts, wondering exactly what kind of entity he had been tracking to end up here.

Keyaru couldn’t hide a sense of helplessness even after receiving the quest. His worry was justified; he was inwardly fretting over whether another variable would crop up, just as before. Though, usually, “variables” for him meant issues with the payout.

However, Keyaru’s usual calm and cool(?) composure—always observing his surroundings—was currently crumbling for a different reason.

Slash. Thud.

It was because of the two women currently butchering the monsters right in front of him. There was no need for Keyaru to release his Magi, nor any need for him to step in personally. All he had to do was snap the necks of the small fry trying to escape during the chaos.

Even then, if Keyaru didn’t move or if his judgment was even a second slow, Elaina or Libera would instantly fly over and demolish them.

“I’ll kill anyone who touches Papa.”

“Anyone who lays a finger on Master is going to die—”

After delivering those chilling warnings, the monsters that tried to pass me were popped like bladders, becoming cold corpses. Simply for the sin of entering my line of sight, they were crushed by the fierce bloodlust of these two women, meeting a fate more miserable than a quick death.

For the first time in my life, I actually felt sorry for the monsters.

Driven to desperation and suppressed by terror, the monsters shrieked and lunged at Elaina. The result was, of course…

“Kerghaaaak…!!!”

“Aaaaaagh…!!”

They were blown away, drenched in their own blood. The sight of gouged organs and intestines spilling out was like a scene from a grotesque horror movie. No, it was worse. Movies use props and CG; the scene before me was raw reality. They were dying in a manner far more brutal and wretched than how I used to slaughter goblins.

The ones with their guts hanging out were actually the lucky ones. One had its neck twisted and brain oozing out, pinned by its jaw to a tree root as it bled out. Another was being sliced alive by the Wind Spirits guarding the perimeter, being broken down into powder… no, into atoms.

To put it plainly: it was a stomach-churning sight. To put it mildly: it was disgusting.

enN1WnIzcFhHMVJuR0JvdkNPc013MkgvcExXZ1pDL2ZHMjdLYkNlSW93bFUrdlZnYlNwclJaOUtuZEcwcUpmcg

Who? Elaina and Libera? No, of course not. I’m talking about the corpses rolling on the ground.

‘Well… zombies and skeletons were originally human, so calling them “corpses” is technically correct…’

The settlement of the reward began.

“…..”

The staff member began to tally the spoils they wordlessly presented. 200 Skeletons, 20 Forest Undead, 15 Zombies.

Looking at this alone, it seemed like a decent haul. It was a level that a party of second-rate adventurers could eventually manage to subjugate. Skeletons are a headache due to their numbers, but a mid-tier Mage can solve that. Forest Undead use magic, but they aren’t a problem if you have a fast-moving Assassin in the party. As for zombies… well, let’s not even go there.

However, there was a different reason the staff member was gasping in awe, as if looking at something impossible.

2 Undead Kings, 3 Guardian Henchmen, 1 Shaman of the Lush Forest.

“….You handled all of this in less than half a day?”

“Yeah.”

“The… the three of you…?”

“Yes.”

Libera, sticking close to Keyaru’s back without emotion, and Elaina, crossing her arms and pressing her chest forward, gave a slight nod. The staff member stared wide-eyed, examining the physical condition of the two women clinging to the man. There wasn’t a single major injury—not even a scratch.

“No, this is… I mean…”

They had returned far too pristine, which was baffling. The staff member swallowed hard and began to calculate. He couldn’t help but be horrified.

‘An Undead King is at least equivalent to a top-tier Second-Rate adventurer…’

The number of monsters, their strength—the staff member’s head began to spin. An Undead King is a giant specter over four meters tall; it wields a sword forged from its own flesh and bone with enough power to shatter an entire area. Even veteran adventurers who have spent their lives on the field avoid them. Why? Because they are nearly immortal. Their flesh knits back together the moment it’s cut. Unless you are a High Mage, they have a massive resistance to almost all magic and curses. Even if the head is blown off, it regrows.

If the Undead King is that bad, what about the others? The Guardian Henchmen use magic comparable to High-tier Mages. If two of them appeared in the middle of the capital without interference, they could annihilate the city. They could level a small village in a single strike.

And the Shaman of the Lush Forest? Words are unnecessary. It’s a catastrophe. Adventurers struggle even with Goblin Shamans. But a Shaman of the Lush Forest…? The one that makes the woods tremble and the earth shake just by walking? The one that can beat a top-tier First-Rate adventurer party like they’re stray dogs just by slamming its staff into the ground?

In the history of the Adventurer’s Guild, across this northern region and the world, there hasn’t been a party that brought back the corpse of such a Shaman. From the Shaman or Lord rank upward, these aren’t enemies for adventurers; they are enemies for Heroes. Dealing with beings that transcend humanity is a task only for those chosen by God. No matter how hard commoners try, they cannot transcend the power of a Hero.

Yet today, for the first time, a Shaman—and not a mere Goblin Shaman—had been taken down. A subjugation request that had been rotting for decades because no one dared to take it was completed in a single day. The first adventurer party to drive out the kings of the forest and turn that place into their grave was born.

Their name: ‘Edric’.

‘Huh…? I’ve heard that name somewhere before…’

The reward for killing the Shaman was staggering. Perhaps it was because this is an era where Heroes take the stage. Unlike a King or a Duke’s son who can bring a Hero into their home, a commoner—or even a high-ranking noble—usually couldn’t dream of it. Heroic tales of subjugation are common, but those who actually meet a Hero are few.

This is partly due to the game system of TBG Heroes. Heroes aren’t necessarily born as Heroes. They must join a guild as a member; only then is an oracle delivered, granting them the power of a Hero. This includes stat boosts and the awakening of special skills or traits they didn’t have at birth. You can even see humans becoming beastfolk or vice-versa. Even if a Kingdom or Empire “owns” a Hero, that Hero must have passed through a guild—even a minor one—at some point.

This was why one of the biggest worries for newbie Guild Leaders was whether their Heroes would secretly run away. Without keeping Heroes in the fold, a guild cannot prosper. A guild without a Hero is like a blacksmith without a hammer or a bodyguard without a sword. And since some people take the stat boosts and then selfishly quit the guild, management is nightmare-inducing.

Heroes are made through guilds. In TBG Heroes, no more than one person could connect to the same server. Since it was a single-player game from the start and had no true servers, the multiplayer aspect was just a slight addition. Essentially, the worldviews are different.

So, what does that mean?

‘The Heroes in those kingdoms and empires where all those heroic tales come from…’

Keyaru gripped the heavy pouch of gold coins tightly with one hand.

‘They’re our kids.’

The path for the half-demon boy was set. Since settling in this unfamiliar world, he had vowed to find the Heroes again, receive their favor, and make them smile once more. A cold sense of guilt pricked his back. He had always had the ability to carry this out. He was just short on cash.

“Our next destination will be the Kingdom.”

We arrived at the inn. As I unpacked, I found myself whispering those words.