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Chapter 01
The Settlement of Wandering
Every person needs a home.
For some, a home might be a person, a song, or a fleeting moment spent gazing at a shooting star.
It is whatever flashes before your eyes right before you die—that is your true home.
In that sense, my home was my disciples.
I wanted to protect the children, raise them right, and one day pass away peacefully at their side.
I just never expected to die at forty.
“Cough, k-cough…”
The ground was strewn with corpses and pool after pool of blood.
There were easily at least a hundred bodies scattered in front of me—some belonged to magical beasts, others to humans. Blood overflowing from the dead stained the dirt black.
As invaders ran rampant, the city devolved into total chaos, and the other masters fell while fighting them off.
Amidst the echoing screams, I stood holding my sword.
My entire body felt as though it were shattering, but I couldn’t run away. While the surrounding buildings had collapsed, the one directly behind me remained completely intact.
Inside that building were my disciples.
My pupils.
They were still young, helpless fledglings. The youngest was barely five years old, and the oldest—though eighteen—was still just a kid in my eyes.
Even in this living hell, my disciples were fighting with everything they had. Shouting with all their might, they faced the enemy with their whole bodies.
My first disciple, who had only just reached adulthood, continued casting spells even while vomiting blood.
Their entire body was covered in scars.
Cesare, who was only twelve, was weeping while applying pressure to stop the bleeding on a fallen master’s wound. He was the most gentle and timid child among them.
He must have wanted to run, to hide away.
The other disciples were no different. Not a single one hid. Just like their masters, they were doing their absolute best to protect our home.
With their tiny bodies, they were trying their hardest to weather this storm together.
—GRRRROOOOAAAR…!
A massive dragon stood before me. Acrid smoke billowed with every breath it released.
Then, sparks flared from its maw. Its fiery breath transformed into a tidal wave of flames, cascading down toward me.
The surroundings grew blindingly bright and scorchingly hot—it possessed the scale and power to incinerate a small village in a single instant.
Evading it would have been simple. But my disciples were behind me. As their master, I couldn’t turn my back and run.
The only thing I could show them was my back as I shielded their front.
—SWOOSH!
I burned through all my remaining mana and poured it into my blade. My body screamed in agony, and a surge of blood burst from my mouth.
A tempest of sword energy severed the wall of fire in two. The moment the great blaze scattered into harmless sparks, I leaped directly onto the dragon’s head.
I drove my sword down repeatedly. My blood and the dragon’s blood mingled, spraying in every direction.
I wouldn’t let them lay a single finger on a hair of my disciples’ heads.
—THUD…!
Mutilated, the dragon collapsed. Yet, this wasn’t the end. A voice laced with groans drifted from ahead.
“As expected, the name Barlanush isn’t just for show.”
A man stood nearby. He was the one who had brought these countless humans and beasts here.
He was a formidable foe. To sever that man’s arm, my comrade had sacrificed his life. Covered in blood, the invader refused to stop fighting.
My condition was hardly any better. Hot blood was pouring from my side, soaking my body.
I raised my sword to face him. At the cost of many sacrifices, the tide of battle had finally turned in our favor. His subordinates had been slaughtered in droves.
Even so, he showed neither rage nor despair.
“I really should have come sooner,” the man muttered.
His expression was a bizarre mix—half regret, half accomplishment.
Neither he nor I had the luxury to ask or answer who he was, or why he was doing this.
The wind howled. The man charged at me. Behind me lay our home, our lives, and our disciples.
I would never allow anyone to invade this place.
—SLASH!
The wind blew again. As my sword cleaved horizontally across the man’s neck, a crimson mist sprayed through the air. From within that fog, his voice sounded one last time.
“Even so, I’ve snapped the tree’s trunk. Someday, its roots and new sprouts will…”
With a heavy thud, the man collapsed. Though I had barely managed to sever his head, he had swung his blade until the very end.
—GUSH!
Hot blood gushed from the deep gash stretching across my chest and abdomen. A single movement felt like it would spill my innards out. I collapsed directly onto the ground.
At least it was a relief that no enemies remained.
Relief outweighed my fear of death. As the surroundings fell silent, the voices of the children became crystal clear.
“Master!”
“Master Dane!”
“Hurry, someone get a doctor, quickly!”
The disciples ran toward me. Their faces were all so young. They were all crying.
I was just glad everyone was safe. If even one of them had died, I would never have forgiven myself.
I tried to speak, but no strength would enter my body.
Ah, I wanted to call out each of their names.
I could manage nothing more than a faint smile. How could I leave these young ones behind? To comfort their crying faces, I forced words out through squeezed breaths.
“I will return home… someday.”
Yes, someday.
If there was a next life, I wanted to return here again, to our home.
The wind died down.
The smell of dust, darkness, and long-passed years filled the air.
Awakened by the unfamiliar scent, I opened my eyes. Or rather, I thought I had, but everything was pitch black. Closing and reopening my eyes made no difference.
…What is going on?
It was bizarre. Hadn’t I just died fighting off the invaders moments ago?
Feeling my neck, I found the Barlanush necklace still hanging there. Had I really not died? Was I treated and brought back to life?
Full of doubts, I realized I was trapped in a narrow, elongated box-like structure. It made no sense; if I had received medical care, there was no reason for me to be in a place like this.
Furthermore, I felt no vitality in my body, and my mana reserves were miniscule.
Still, if my injuries had healed, I suppose that was something to be grateful for. Though bewildered, I couldn’t just lie here forever.
Applying pressure, I pushed upward against the ceiling, and to my surprise, it opened easily. Yet, the surroundings remained shrouded in darkness.
Groping my way forward, I encountered a set of stairs. Pushing open a door at the top, moonlight flooded in over me.
Looking back, I was taken aback. It was an underground catacomb I had visited a few times before. The lid of the coffin I had just climbed out of was standing wide open.
Did I die and somehow resurrect? I touched my stomach, but there was no wound.
For now, I felt the urgency to go find my disciples. I opened the catacomb’s exit door and stepped outside.
The night sky was clear, as if no tragedy had ever occurred. I quickened my pace, longing to see the faces I had been briefly separated from.
What happened to the children after I died? Are they safe?
With those thoughts rushing through my mind, I hurried along. Entering the city, I walked down a long road and turned into an inner alleyway.
However, something felt off. The atmosphere had completely changed. What was usually a quiet residential area now had drunks wandering about, buzzing with noise despite the late hour.
There were shops I had never seen before, and a foul stench drifted from various spots. Then, at the end of the street, I saw our home.
As I drew closer to the building, boisterous voices leaked out from inside. They were not the voices of children, but the curses and shouts of intoxicated men.
Wondering what on earth was going on, I caught sight of a wreath of dried flowers hanging on the front entrance. My blood ran cold.
That symbol meant it was a brothel.
What in the world happened here?
With trembling hands, I pushed the door open. Our home—a place where I had never allowed a single intruder to step foot.
The moment I opened the main door and stepped inside, I saw tables filling the entire first floor, packed with drunken customers.
The house my second disciple had decorated so delicately was nowhere to be found. All that remained was a man vomiting on the floor from overdrinking and an employee scolding him for it.
I stumbled across the first floor.
Where on earth are the kids?
Just as anxiety surged up to my throat, an employee walked up to me. Scanning me up and down, he let out a smirk.
“Coming to a place like this at your age? Is it your first time?”
Passing right by him, I headed up to the second floor. The moment I went up, thick smoke poured out, revealing a scene even more sordid than downstairs.
People were tangled together here and there, amidst the reek of alcohol and smoke from cigarettes or whatever else they were smoking. Just as I stood frozen in rage and shock, my eyes happened to land on a mirror mounted on the wall.
Reflected in it was me—yet it wasn’t me. The reflection should have been that of a forty-year-old man, not a youth who had barely shed his boyhood.
Why have I become younger?
I couldn’t fathom what was going on. In the meantime, the employee followed me upstairs. Crossing his arms, he spoke with a slanting posture.
“So, is there a specific kid you’re looking for?”
“This is the residence of Barlanush.”
He had a completely clueless look on his face, as if he didn’t even recognize the name Barlanush—even though there shouldn’t have been a single person in this city who didn’t know us.
“Barlanush? I don’t know if you came to the wrong place or what, but if you’re not planning to drink, I’m gonna—”
—BANG!
The moment the employee grabbed my shoulder while speaking, I slammed him straight onto a table.
The patrons’ eyes instantly locked onto me. So did the eyes of the staff.
Men who appeared to be bouncers drew the swords hanging at their waists.
“What do you think you’re doing, kid?!”
When I didn’t answer, they rushed forward with wild yells. Dodging the blade swinging down toward my head, I struck the leader straight in the throat.
“Gah!”
He collapsed on the spot. Pivoting my body, I drove a kick square into the pit of the next guy’s stomach.
Though they looked tough on the outside, their attacks lacked any solid center. Bare hands were more than enough to deal with trash like this.
Screams rang out, and customers scrambled out in a panic. Then, more bouncers emerged from the back.
Three more?
Even at a glance, they were mere amateurs.
“Get that bastard!”
Blades gleamed as they caught the light from all directions, but none possessed a true edge. Parrying their dull strikes and landing counterattacks, screams echoed all around.
Before long, six men were squirming on the floor.
Looking around the now-deserted building after all the customers had fled, only the bare skeleton of the home I remembered remained.
Shock and futility washed over me, but now was not the time for this.
I made my way toward the director’s office. The door was firmly shut.
—CRASH!
I kicked the door open and stepped inside. In the room sat a man who appeared to be in his fifties, pressed tightly against the wall. His voice trembled uncontrollably as he spoke.
“W-Who on earth are you? Are you doing this for money? Or else…?”
“Tell me what happened here. This building originally belonged to Barlanush, didn’t it?”
At that, the man assumed a bewildered expression and stammered out:
“Barlanush? Barlanush was here 15 years ago—what on earth are you talking about?!”
