“Come quickly, Adrian, he’s opening his eyes!”

A soft, gentle voice reached me as I forced my eyes open for the first time in this world.

“Oh my God… I’m coming!”

That delicate voice was soon joined by a deeper, masculine one, sounding distant, as if several walls were standing between us and muffling his words.

My vision slowly began to clear. A blurry silhouette of a woman appeared in front of me, brown hair flowing down over her shoulders and back.

When will my sight focus so I can actually see her…?

She looks beautiful even like this.

Who is she?

My questions were cut off by the sound of hurried footsteps rushing toward me until the man stopped at my side.

Why is he running like that?

And why do they both look gigantic?

“Look at him. Doesn’t he look just like you?”

“He definitely inherited the beauty of your eyes, my dear.”

Are they… flirting with each other using me as a reference?

Who took what from whom exactly?!

“Hahaha, maybe so—but he has your hair and eye color.”

While they continued exchanging compliments and using me as a shared “specimen” for their flirting, my vision finally cleared up.

The woman in front of me was just as beautiful as I’d imagined, and beside her stood a man as handsome as those you only ever see in fantasy stories.

These features are nothing like the people from my old world and my old life.

But I’m definitely not dreaming… right?

Jet-black hair, soft brown eyes leaning toward a pure honey color, a body well-built and carefully trained.

Alright, let’s try to talk to them and ask who they are.

“Bah… bah… bo…”

What?.

“Ahhh, his first word. His first word. Did you hear that?”

“He’s trying to speak. Come on, try again; you can do it.”

“Haha, he’s still just a baby. How could he talk already?”

Baby? … Baby?.

I attempted to move my hand toward myself only to find a tiny, chubby little arm.

Oh God. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“I was worried when he didn’t wake up at all since he was born yesterday… I’m so happy right now.”

The woman started crying, looking down at me with a gentle, warm smile.

It appears that I really did get transported into the game world, just like that message told me.

And these two… are apparently my parents in this world.

How I hate this…

This world…

Will be destroyed...

No matter what.

******

(Three days earlier)

“Ugh… my head. This job is killing me.”

My name is Park Kim. I’m twenty-seven years old, and I work as a marketer in a marketing company.

From the outside, that might sound decent.

Inside? It’s pure hell.

Working for more than five clients a day, each with a different field, different system, and different demands…

Oh God, do they think they bought a slave, and now they want to squeeze every last coin’s worth out of him?

I walked toward the convenience store next to my apartment, bought two bags of chips and a bottle of soda, then went back upstairs and changed my clothes.

Some might ask, “What makes you put up with this hell of a job?”

If I had to sum it up in a single word, it would be: “Azorith.”

A game I’ve been playing for a long time, and I still haven’t finished in a way that satisfies me.

The thrill of trying to clear it “properly,” and the way every run leads to different events and routes, makes me dive into it and forget my personal hell for a while.

The game is famous for one thing above all:

The story changes based on your choices, your actions during events, and key moments.

You don’t have full freedom, of course—certain major events cannot be changed—but the ability to make your own path, whether noble or cruel, is what made the game explode in popularity and turn everyone obsessed.

Despite all of that, it has one of the worst endings I’ve ever seen.

If not, the worst.

The world ends in ruin and corruption, completely beyond repair.

The people who could have saved it die one after another, no matter how hard you try or what choices you make.

Because of that, many players got fed up with its misery and gave up, quitting before even trying other approaches—even though the game technically lets you re-choose and search for alternatives.

In spite of all the complaints, the company never apologized or patched the ending.

They stayed silent.

Why wouldn’t they?

Even though many left, just as many new players joined to replace them, and the profits they made were enough to fund a dozen new games.

Yet somehow, they never released anything else.

Five years have passed since Azorith came out, and they haven’t announced a single new project.

People have been speculating about it on social media for years now.

Sigh… whatever.

What matters is that I have to save the world this time.

I’ve tried over and over to get a good ending where the world survives, but it never works out.

There’s always a point where I can’t protect the heroes anymore, and I can’t save the world either.

I’ve played so much that I’ve lost count of all the nights I sacrificed sleep before work just to give it “one last try” and break that tragic ending.

Some people would probably laugh—or cry—if they knew I used my official days off just to stay home and grind this death-obsessed game, more than I use them to actually rest.

My manager scolded me more than once for these “mysterious” vacations, and I kept insisting I just needed rest.

Well… I wasn’t exactly lying.

The job itself sucks the life right out of you day after day, and if I don’t escape into something, I’ll lose my mind.

Clients making impossible demands, asking for absurd revisions, expecting miracles in no time—as if I owned a magic wand that grants wishes on command.

Today will be my first attempt—again.

I’ve lost track of which number this try is.

No matter what it costs me, I have to succeed today.

I turned on my PC, placed my bags of chips and my beloved soda within reach, and logged into the game.

“Hm… looks like new players are trying to break the game’s curse again.”

So it’s still going strong even after all these years, huh.

“Hm?”

Someone is trying to talk to me.

Alright, let’s see what they want.

“Hey, Hell-Returner, how are you doing?”

Yeah, that’s my in-game name.

Maybe it sounds weird, but a guy like me, working in a living nightmare of a company and playing a game with a tragic, hopeless ending—what else should I call myself? “Lucky Angel”? Seriously?

“Hello. I’m fine.”

Best not to waste too many words until I know what they’re after.

“I wanted your help with the quest ‘Gaining Emilia’s Trust.’”

Hahaha, that quest? People still struggle with it?

If he knew she was destined to die in the end, no matter what, he’d probably smash his screen, quit the game, and go into an existential crisis.

She’s one of the strongest and most beloved characters—beauty from her mother, strength from her warrior father.

Even her personality, as far as I remember, stole the hearts of players everywhere.

Alright, alright, no need to dump that truth on him. Let him enjoy the game while he can.

“I’ll just tell you this: do not leave her when she asks you to.”

“Won’t that be bad?”

Normally, I’d agree.

But at that time, she needs someone to stand beside her, someone who tells her he won’t leave until she regains her confidence.

Most people don’t know this, but Emilia’s self-confidence is actually pretty fragile despite her strength.

It’s something only players who spent way too many hours on this game would notice.

“Don’t worry. Try it.”

He stayed silent for a moment, then replied again.

“Alright. I’ll trust the famous ‘Treasure of Information’… see you.”

“Haah…”

A deep sigh escaped me.

So he knew who I was—that’s why he came asking for help even though his level was higher than mine.

Some time ago, I became kind of famous on the forums as “The Treasure of Information,” since I always helped other players stuck on certain quests or events get the “proper” outcomes.

I never expected those posts to blow up like that or that I’d become “treasure” to anyone.

Still, no matter how much I help them, it doesn’t change the fact that the story ends in tragedy.

I just hope I can break that ending this time…

Please.

**********

(Two days later)

Mercy… someone show some mercy to my miserable life.

After spending two whole days trying to finally get a satisfying ending—losing hero after hero, scrambling around to awaken others, only to fail again at the end… I’m furious.

I feel like screaming.

“Damn this game and that cursed company. I hate you.”

I shouted with everything I had, but the burning anger in my veins refused to calm down.

“I’ll send them a message and teach them how to write a story with a logical plot, not this trash.”

I force-quit the game, stormed onto their official website, grabbed their contact email, and started pouring my rage into words, hoping the letters would crawl out of their monitors and choke them one by one.

I wrote that the game’s plot had so many holes that if you piled them all together, you’d probably plug the ozone layer.

Okay, so I still have a sense of humor even when I’m mad.

Anyway, I finished the message by expressing my absolute refusal of such a miserable ending, especially when it could’ve been avoided if we were allowed to properly protect certain heroes and change certain events.

I began listing those events one by one, explaining how each one could logically go differently instead of forcing the same doomed scenario, no matter what choices you made.

God, I was really pissed.

I ended my email telling them they needed, just this once, to listen to the players who had poured so much time into trying to find any hidden ending besides this one.

“Haah…”

I let out another long sigh as I hit “Send,” hoping this message would be the one to finally break their arrogance and force them to change something in this cursed story.

“It’s a bit late to say this, but I really should sleep. I’ve got work tomorrow.”

I headed to my beloved bed to get some rest.

I didn’t notice that my message had already received a reply.

**********

“Waaaah…”

I yawned at my desk at work, eyes heavy. I hadn’t slept well at all.

This game and that damned company… I hate them.

Who’s going to compensate me for all the precious time I’ve lost?

To be fair, it’s not entirely their fault.

I’m the one who keeps deciding to try again and again when so many people gave up long before me.

“You didn’t sleep again, did you?”

John, the guy in the cubicle next to me, broke my train of thought.

He’s one of the few people I genuinely respect—someone who keeps grinding despite family troubles and debts hanging over his head.

He never lets those things poison his attitude.

“Yeah… I lost track of time again and ended up sleeping late.”

His expression shifted into a look of mild disapproval, which irritated me.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He seemed surprised by my defensive tone, as if he hadn’t meant anything bad by his reaction in the first place.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything. I was just surprised you still perform so well despite such a hectic schedule that you can’t even sleep early.”

If only you knew what keeps me up every night…

You’d probably laugh and curse me at the same time.

“That’s nothing to be impressed about. There are plenty of people like me. I’m not special.”

“Yeah, you’re not.”

“Huh?!”

What is this idiot saying?

I just said I’m not special, but you’re not supposed to agree that quickly!

Does he not know how to sugarcoat things to keep the mood light?

God… have mercy.

“You’re not special because of that. You’re special because you keep trying even when you fail.”

…What?

“I don’t get what you mean.”

He scratched his head, searching for a simpler way to explain, then looked at me more seriously.

“What I mean is, you’re different from others because you didn’t quit during training. So many people quit within the first month because of the pressure, but you powered through, insisted on finishing it, and didn’t just survive—you did well. They even praised your work. That surprised me at first, but it made me respect you a lot.”

Damn, man…

Now I’m embarrassed.

I didn’t know I looked that impressive to anyone.

Well, I guess I should thank that game for training my patience and persistence.

“Thanks for seeing me that way. I respect your work too.”

Working next to this guy is the one good thing about this job.

He always treated me like a younger brother and never hesitated to help me at the beginning, explaining as many concepts as he could, even with his own problems and workload.

Seriously… thank you.

“Alright, let’s get back to work so we can escape this place.”

“Yeah.”

Time passed, I finished my tasks, and I bolted out of that cursed office as fast as I could.

Once I got home, I turned on my PC to see if anything new had happened since last night.

“Oh… I forgot to shut it down. Hm? What’s this?”

I noticed a notification in my inbox and opened it, only to see that the company had replied to my email.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

The company everyone calls “the Fortress of Narcissism” actually replied?

Are they going to show off their arrogance to me directly now?

I opened the message to see what they had to say about my long rant.

(We thank you for your detailed message and your criticism of the story we presented to you.)

(We understand that you’re dissatisfied with the ending and that no one with a shred of feeling for this world and its inhabitants would favor such a fate. However, we tried many times and could not find a way for it to be saved.)

(You suggested several possible solutions, and we would be delighted to discuss them with you. Therefore, when you read this message, please contact us again, and we will reply without delay. Thank you for your understanding.)

That was the text.

Formal, polite, and strangely soothing—like they’d taken all my anger and tossed it straight into the trash.

I still couldn’t believe they had answered me, especially when so many others had tried and never gotten a single response.

Fine. I’ll respect that and reply.

I sent them a message saying I was available if they wanted to discuss things, then went to prepare lunch.

No way they’d answer that fast… right?

Message notification sound

“They replied?!”

It had only been a few minutes.

Did they really answer that quickly?

I turned off the stove under my food, which would have to wait yet again, and went back to my PC.

“Let’s see what this company is up to first.”

(To our esteemed Hell-Returner, greetings…)

They knew my in-game name.

Looks like they really are taking this seriously.

(Greetings.)

(We read your message very carefully, and we can see you’re not someone who babbles nonsense. It seems you’ve spent a great deal of time playing, and you know how to correct its flawed course.)

So that’s why they never replied to anyone else?

Hmm… but what’s with that “babbles nonsense” part?

Does that kind of wording match their polite tone?

(That’s why we wanted to talk to you and ask you one question, and we hope you’ll answer honestly without hesitation.)

Are they going to test me now or something?

(What’s the question?)

I waited.

This time, they took a bit longer than usual to respond, which was odd given how fast they’d been before.

Were they… thinking up the question?

Ah, they’re typing.

(Are you willing to change that world’s future yourself from this moment on?)

Huh?

It sounded exactly like the cliché question given to a protagonist right before his journey to save a world from some lurking evil villain.

Is this supposed to be a serious question, or are they just a bunch of game-obsessed weirdos who can’t separate fiction from reality?

Fine. I’ll play along.

(Um… yeah. I want to change it.)

(^_^)

(??)

What’s with that face?

(Good. Then you will be transferred to that world, chosen hero. We knew you were exceptional, and that the prophecy must have meant you. Please, protect it. Please, save Azorith, Park.)

What?!!

How do they know my real name?

And what prophecy?!

(Wait, what are yo—)

Before I could finish typing my reply, the screen flared with blinding light.

Something yanked me forward with staggering force, dragging me into the monitor despite my frantic attempts to resist.

I was pulled into a strange place, like the wormholes I’d seen in space documentaries.

No matter where I looked, there was only darkness around me, crisscrossed by glowing streams of light rushing past in the opposite direction faster than my eyes could follow.

I looked at my hands—at my body—and they were shining.

“What’s happening to me? Am I… dreaming?”

I didn’t understand what was happening, but I realized one thing:

Whatever they said at the end of that conversation…

It was real.

He might not have been lying. He might—

“Ghhhhh—AAAAAAAGH!”

Pain.

Agonizing, unbearable pain.

My body felt like it was being torn apart, shredded from the inside out.

“Someone… h-help… AAAAAAAAGH!”

The pain didn’t stop. It didn’t even slow down.

It just kept increasing, and the more it did, the further I felt my body drifting away from me, like I was being skinned alive.

Tears streamed from my eyes. Drool spilled from my mouth.

I couldn’t control any part of myself anymore.

All I wanted was for this torment to end.

The pain went on and on until, finally…

…I blacked out.

When I opened my eyes again—

I was no longer Park Kim.

I woke up again to find myself in the arms of the woman they call “Mother,” with the man they call “Father” staring at me with a strange look in his eyes.

As my vision cleared and I started to truly recognize the two faces looking down at me, a wave of emotion washed over my heart.

I think this is what they call “unconditional love”—the love of parents for their child and the love of a child for his parents.

I had felt something like this once before, toward my parents in my previous world, when I was very young… before I lost them in an accident.

Fortunately, I had been so young back then that I couldn’t even remember their faces, so the grief did not drag on for years.

Let’s say: no memories, no ghosts chasing me from the past.

Now… I’m actually grateful that they died before I came here.

What would’ve happened if I had simply vanished and never returned to them…?

Aaaaah, no.

Let’s not go down that road.

Focus on the life in front of you now…

“You know, little one, we decided to name you Ed… Ed Rosfield.”

Ed Rosfield?

Was there a character with that name in the story?

I don’t remember anyone calling that at all.

Is he new? Did I miss him somehow?

Why have I never heard that name before…?

Weird.

“Hurry up and grow strong so that I can teach you swordsmanship and the arts of combat.”

Yes, Father, I absolutely need that.

In a world as chaotic as this one, I’ll need every fighting skill I can get.

“As if I’d let you do whatever you want with my precious son.”

Mother, please…

This is not a world where motherly overprotectiveness is going to help, trust me.

Mothers are almost always driven by emotion and fear of anything that could hurt their children.

“I’ll teach him magic dueling and elemental compatibility.”

…Huh?

Who exactly are my parents, in the name of the gods?

“But swordsmanship and combat techniques are more effective when magic is weakened.”

(Hm, hm.) I nodded.

“But magical duelists are a fusion of both swordsmanship and magic. They’re incredibly rare.”

(Hm, hm.) I nodded again.

I could feel Father trying to hold his temper, and for a moment I had the impression that Mother was enjoying this a bit too much.

To be fair, if I had to give my own opinion…

Magical duelists really were extremely rare in the game, and it was hard enough to find someone with natural talent for magic, let alone someone who could also master the sword.

If you were born a magical duelist, it was considered nothing less than a gift straight from the gods.

“All right, all right… When he grows up, we’ll let him decide for himself. He might not even have the magical talent needed to be a magical duelist.”

Mother looked down at me with a warm, almost dreamy smile.

“He’ll be talented. He’s our son—he’ll have all the talent he needs to become the best.”

It was a bit embarrassing, but her words and the way she looked at me filled me with warmth and happiness.

Having someone trust you so completely—someone ready to encourage you no matter how little they know about your future—that’s… a wonderful feeling.

Maybe this world isn’t that bad after all.

**********

(Five years later)

After I grew a little, my parents decided it was time to start teaching me what they knew.

Father began by building up my body’s foundation, then slowly introduced the basics of swordsmanship.

Mother, on the other hand, had me try to sense the mana and the natural energy of this world.

Luckily, I inherited her perception of both, and once she confirmed that, she moved me into “vessel training”—strengthening my body so it could hold as much mana as possible.

She didn’t start teaching me magical dueling yet.

According to her, it was better to build a strong core first.

Once that was in place, learning magical dueling wouldn’t be that difficult for me.

That plan also fit perfectly with Father’s lessons in basic swordsmanship.

After a not-so-short while, my mind finally accepted that this was my new life, a life I’d been granted from scratch.

These were my parents now, the family I had to protect and cherish.

I managed to overcome many difficulties, despite our rural lifestyle.

At first, I assumed I’d been reborn into a simple countryside home…

But Father’s skill and Mother’s power quickly shattered that illusion.

They didn’t look like villagers at all.

Their abilities and instincts came from a much harsher, more refined environment—somewhere that had honed them into what they are now.

We lived in a wooden cabin on the outskirts of a small village, surrounded by open green plains.

I loved the life there—the calm, the warmth, the natural scenery all around us.

You could almost envy the peace of this place.

Which only made it more confusing.

How did two people this strong end up in such a simple and quiet environment?

There were no rampaging magical beasts nearby, no bandits, no obvious threats.

It felt like there had to be a story behind why they were here.

But it didn’t feel urgent enough to ask—yet.

For now, I focused on squeezing every bit of time I had into strengthening myself and preparing for what was to come.

From what I could tell after these five years, I was living in the period before the game’s main story officially started.

I hadn’t stepped into the core of the plot yet.

That was fortunate.

It meant I still had time to get ready, as much as I could.

“Dear… it seems someone has sent a messenger for you.”

Mother’s voice cut through my thoughts as she looked at Father, worry clouding her eyes.

I didn’t understand who had come or why she was this anxious.

But she was peering out the window, so I followed her gaze.

Outside, four knights were approaching, the emblem of some noble family I didn’t recognize painted on their breastplates.

In front of them walked a man in extravagant clothes—garments only worn by those who serve under a high-ranking noble house.

“Stay here with Ed. I’ll go see what they want.”

The same worried look settled over Father’s face, but his fear didn’t seem to be for himself.

He looked more concerned about Mother and me.

As much as their expressions made me uneasy, they also made me… happy.

To have parents like this in this world was something I didn’t want to lose.

Father stepped outside to meet them.

I tried to eavesdrop from the window, straining to catch their voices.

“Sir Adrian, how have you been?”

“I’m in good health, Marshal. What brings you all the way out here?”

I lifted myself just enough to peek out.

For some reason, they were trying to keep me hidden, though I didn’t know why.

From my vantage point, I could make out the man called Marshal: a narrow, tapered face, half-lidded eyes, his expression betraying nothing but indifference.

What is your relationship with my father…?

“Is my visit that unpleasant to you?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”

I could hear the nervousness in Father’s voice, and honestly, it annoyed me.

I didn’t like seeing him like this.

While I watched, Marshal’s gaze shifted, his eyes sliding toward where I was peeking.

A strange smile curled at the corner of his lips when he spotted me.

“I wonder… have you considered coming back and fixing what you ruined?”

“I ruined nothing. I simply decided to build a family away from my father, so I wouldn’t be a nuisance.”

Was Father from a noble family?

Then why was this man speaking to him with such arrogance?

“The Rosfield family’s greatest failure dares to talk about ‘building a family’?”

Father’s hand clenched into a fist, his jaw tightening.

Beside me, Mother’s grip on my shoulder grew tighter, as if she was barely holding herself back from leaping at them.

She wasn’t the only one who wanted to beat them senseless.

My father is not a failure or a burden.

He’s strong—very strong.

They’re the fools for not seeing it.

“Marshal, I left everything to you. Can you not just… leave me alone?”

Because our house was at the edge of the village, no one had noticed the unwelcome visit.

Had the villagers seen them, a crowd would have gathered, forcing these men to leave quickly.

But with no one around… they were taking their time.

Far too much time.

“Do you really think, Adrian, that we’d simply let trash like you wander freely outside the family’s lands?”

That’s enough.

“You should at least recognize the value of—”

“How dare you speak like that to the son of the head of the family, you worthless trash?”

Everyone froze, startled by my sudden interruption.

I had stepped right into the middle of their conversation and cut that bastard off mid-sentence.

I was truly angry.

Who did he think he was, talking to my father like that?

I hated it.

“And who might you be, little one?”

Marshal looked down at me with condescension, as if he was silently telling me to learn my place and stay in it.

That might have worked… if I didn’t already know who I was.

“I am Ed. Ed Rosfield, grandson of the head of House Rosfield.”

Marshal’s eyes widened slightly at the way I introduced myself.

That was the only proper answer to people like him.

You remind them of who you are, so they remember who they are in relation to you—no matter how much they try to forget.

He smiled again, sending a ripple of disgust down my spine, then quickly hid it and glanced at the knights.

“Go and prepare the carriage.”

Once they were out of earshot, he turned back to Father.

“I apologize, Sir Adrian, for my rude words earlier. I simply wanted to see what kind of metal your son was forged from.”

“Your words hit a sore spot, but I’ll forgive you, Marshal. You haven’t seemed like yourself lately.”

Marshal gave Father a small nod, and for the first time, genuine worry flickered across his face.

Chapter 1 – A New Life in a New World

“Your father and brothers have started a smear campaign against you. They’re spreading rumors that they kicked you out of the estate after you committed countless shameful acts I refuse to mention. They’re also claiming you’re frail, and that your weakness is what led you to those sins.”

Father laughed, then looked down at me with a calm smile and gently patted my head.

“Nothing new from my family. They won’t change, no matter how much time passes.”

Sadness clouded Marshal’s features.

Then he turned his gaze to me and gave me a soft smile of his own.

“Perhaps… there is still hope waiting outside the family walls.”

“All that matters to me is that my son grows up in a good environment, and that he builds his own name far away from my family’s poison.”

Marshal bowed his head slightly, almost in shame.

“I apologize for my weakness and my lack of power, Sir Adrian. But I will do whatever I can to help your son and your family. Please forgive me… I must take my leave now.”

Father nodded, and we watched in silence as Marshal climbed into his carriage and disappeared down the road.

“Ed.”

“Yes, Father?”

“Don’t be weak.”

There was a faint pain hidden in his voice, as if those words were directed as much at himself as they were at me.

I answered his advice with a bright, innocent smile and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Don’t worry, Father. I’ll make you and Mother proud of me, always. I’ll make your name echo above all of them.”

Father stared at me, stunned.

How could he not be, when his five-year-old son was saying something so heavy… and so resolute?

A moment passed, then a smile slowly spread across his face.

“Ah… I trust you.”

For a heartbeat, I felt like I’d given him a small ray of light—just a faint one, but it was there.

And for me… that was more than enough.

Since the day Marshal came to visit us, Father and Mother had taken my training much more seriously.

They focused on me without rest, as if the entire weight of the world—and its future dangers—had suddenly become very real to them.

I’m sure the thought crossed their minds more than once:

One day, there will come a time when their son will no longer be by their side, and when that time comes, he’ll need to be ready for whatever threatens him.

And they wouldn’t be wrong.

This is not a world where the weak get to live in peace, no matter how calm and gentle it may look on the surface.

That face hides too much underneath.

Humans oppress the humanoids—beings who look like humans but possess various animal traits and abilities.

Because of their unique powers, humans decided they were a threat that must be suppressed.

Persecuting them and looking down on them became a “normal” social custom.

And humans aren’t the only ones.

Among the fae, high elves oppress regular elves.

They see themselves as the “true” original race, the chosen ones, and consider the elves to be nothing more than a distorted, impure branch, far removed from their noble root.

And that’s only one example among many.

This world was never rosy.

But it was realistic.

Painfully, brutally realistic…

Lost in thought, I swung the wooden sword Father had made for me—made light enough for a child my age to lift while still building my strength.

My small body was drenched in sweat, soaking my clothes.

Father stepped out of the house and walked toward me, his eyes sharp.

“Aren’t you tired yet, Ed?”

I stopped, wiped the sweat off my face and body, and gave him my brightest innocent smile.

“No, Father. I can still keep going.”

He might think I’m being impatient, and to be fair, no one would recommend training this hard at my age.

But there was something I hadn’t given enough thought to before.

I don’t know who I am supposed to be in this world.

I don’t know what the future holds for my family or me.

That uncertainty made me want to grow stronger as fast as possible.

I had no idea what was waiting for us down the line.

If this family truly existed before…

Why did neither they nor “Ed” ever appear in the game?

There’s a very real possibility that it’s because they all died before they had a chance to matter.

If that’s the case, then I have to be ready to prevent that from happening—no matter what it costs.

I’ve accepted that I’m part of this world now, and that this is my one and only family.

I will never accept losing this warmth.

I will not abandon them to some dark fate, no matter what happens.

Even if it costs me my life…

Though, ideally, I’d prefer not to die either.

“Why don’t you rest a little, and we can have a nice talk?”

“That’s fine. Let’s do that.”

I followed Father and sat down with him on the trunk of an old palm tree near our home, at the edge of the village, surrounded by endless green.

“Tell me, Ed. What do you want to achieve when you grow up?”

It was an early question to ask a five-year-old child.

But after what happened with Marshal, maybe Father sensed that my mind and soul were older than my body.

That was fine by me.

If it meant he’d rely on me, I’d accept it.

“I want to protect you and Mother. I want to become much stronger than I am now.”

I wasn’t lying.

I truly did want to protect them.

But to protect them, I’d also have to save the world from its destruction.

That part, I didn’t think I needed to tell him.

Who would ever imagine that this calm, stable world would end in ruins?

“Hahaha, do you see us as that weak, boy, that you think you have to protect us? Seems you don’t know who your parents are.”

“To be honest, Father, I really don’t know much.”

I looked up at him steadily.

“Who exactly is this Marshal? How does the son of the noble Rosfield family end up in a place like this? And who is Mother, to be that skilled?”

And I wasn’t even mentioning the fact that she was a powerful magical duelist—a rare specialization coveted by everyone.

What was someone like that doing in a quiet, distant village, cut off from the wider world?

If I could get any information out of him, maybe I could piece things together and find some clue to this family’s future.

“I can’t tell you much right now,” he said softly. “But I can tell you this: your mother was a hero. We decided to leave everything behind so we could build a home that could hold you… and warm your little heart.”

I couldn’t help but fall even more in love with them.

The more I spoke with my parents, the more I understood just how lucky I was.

Sometimes, I felt like I might end up envying myself.

“I want both of you to always be well, Father.”

“I won’t be happy if you get hurt trying to protect me. That’s why I need to become strong enough to stand beside you when something happens.”

I found myself smiling widely without realizing it, my heart filled with his earlier words.

I’d never had the chance to live a life with parents, to build warm memories with them.

But now…

I love them.

I really, truly love them.

“I hope you never lose that bright smile of yours, son. It’s like fuel that keeps me moving forward without stopping.”

And for me, Father, seeing both of you well is what lets me focus on moving forward, without fear…

“You two are just sitting here instead of training? Are you slacking off or what?”

Mother’s voice cut in, and Father shot her a look of exaggerated annoyance.

“Aren’t mothers supposed to care about letting their families rest?”

…Aren’t they?

I was beginning to doubt that.

“Training is training. But I’ll forgive you since you just finished lunch.”

Good grief.

Was she a battalion commander in some army in her past life?

“Thank you for your generosity, my lady.”

Father bowed his head playfully to show his “gratitude,” while she stood there with her chin held high as if she had truly bestowed great mercy upon him.

Terrifying.

“Ed, it’s time for my special lesson.”

I hopped off the tree trunk and stood in front of her, smiling.

“Right. Let’s do it.”

Father got up as well and told us he’d take a short walk to check on the neighboring forest.

He didn’t take a sword with him.

He firmly believed this area was safe.

After all, ever since the lands had been cleansed of magical beasts, no record had ever shown a new threat appearing near this place.

How could it, when the entire region was surrounded by powerful kingdoms?

Even though we were on the western edge of the Kingdom of Solis, this fertile plain was bordered on the far west by three of the strongest frontier kingdoms on the continent.

In short, there was “no way” anything could happen to this village or its people.

At least, that’s what all the books I’d read since coming to this world said.

I sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Mother, placed my hands on my knees, and closed my eyes, just as she had taught me.

“Now, breathe in and out, slowly. Imagine yourself as a vessel, drawing everything around you inside. Make it a greedy vessel that wants to devour everything near it.”

I focused on my breathing—deep inhales and slow exhales—while picturing my body as a container, sucking in everything around it.

With each inhale, I focused on gathering the energy around me.

Each exhale was a moment of release and relaxation.

I had learned a lot over the past months.

Those lessons had helped me reach this level of sensitivity to the energy around me.

Recently, I had even begun to sense larger “clusters” of light within that ambient energy—concentrated spheres far denser than anything around them.

But no matter what I did, I couldn’t draw them inside.

All they ever did was circle me, as if they were… inspecting me.

“I’m going to wash the rest of the dishes, so keep training. I won’t be long.”

I heard Mother’s footsteps fade into the background, but I paid them little mind.

Because that sphere had come again.

It hovered around me, just like before—but this time, something was different.

It circled me in agitated loops, almost as if something was chasing it. Or as if it were nervous.

I didn’t know what it meant.

All I cared about was somehow being able to absorb it.

That large mass of concentrated energy could save me countless hours of breathing exercises if I managed to claim it.

…Wait.

Was it changing shape?

The sphere…

It was starting to form a distinct outline.

“Ed…”

What was that?

Whose voice was that?

“Ed… can you hear me?”

“I can hear you! Who are you?”

“Ed, open your eyes.”

I did as the voice asked and opened my eyes.

Floating in front of me was a spiritual creature resembling a fox—white fur with faint black markings, its form shimmering like mist.

“Are you… a spirit?”

“Yes. But you must hurry, please.”

This was the first time it had ever spoken to me like this.

Its frantic movements and restless circling me made it clear that something was terribly wrong.

So I skipped all side questions and went straight to the point.

“Your father… is in danger.”

The words hit me like lightning straight through the heart.

Father!!

I have to save him.

I jumped to my feet without a second thought, grabbed Father’s heavy sword, and bolted toward the door.

I didn’t even ask where he was.

There was no time. I’d figure it out on the way.

The sword felt unexpectedly light in my hand, lighter than it ever had before.

But I didn’t stop to think about it.

All that mattered was getting there.

I rushed out of the house, speaking to the spirit as I ran toward the forest.

“Where is Father?”

“Keep going straight ahead. He’s facing a strong monster—one I’ve never seen here before.”

A monster?

How could something like that get into this land?

It should be impossible for it to enter here.

What is happening?!

“I felt a surge of power filling my body. Is that from you?”

“Yes. I shared some of my strengths with you. But your body won’t be able to handle it for long, so you must hurry.”

Right…

I have to hurry.

I have to save him.

I can’t lose my father.

He doesn’t deserve to die.

************

“Phew, there were more dishes than I thought… good thing I’m finally done.”

Ed’s growth has been so fast… and beautiful to watch.

I never imagined he’d learn to sense and absorb energy this quickly.

His talent is anything but ordinary.

Hahaha… seems he really did inherit his father’s ability to learn at a frightening speed.

I didn’t fall in love with that man for nothing.

Will Ed be able to do what we couldn’t?

As a mother, I hate the thought of exposing him to danger, but whether we like it or not, danger will circle him sooner or later.

So I have to make him strong as quickly as possible.

I want him to have a better life than ours—full of joy and warmth.

He is our precious boy, the one we had after so much struggle, who brought happiness into our lives we’d almost forgotten the taste of.

Yes. I have to push him forward.

“I’ll go encourage him a little, boost his morale…”

“How far have you—”

Mother’s words died in her throat.

She froze, eyes darting left and right.

“Ed…??”

************

Hurry… hurry… I have to get there quickly…

“Where is he now?”

“He’s right ahead of you—just beyond that tree.”

Father, please… be okay.

I pushed past the last tree and skidded to a stop, my eyes widening in horror.

No… please… no…

Father’s body lay on the ground, blood soaking his clothes and staining the grass beneath him.

It felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest and run away from this scene.

A pain I couldn’t describe clenched around it, squeezing tighter and tighter.

My eyes refused to blink, locked open in sheer shock.

Every memory, every moment I’d had with Father flashed before me in vivid detail—

His laughter.

His warm words.

His embraces and his training.

The way he always stood beside me, my unshakable support.

I couldn’t remember anything else.

There was only him.

I wanted to cry.

I wanted to curse this world.

I wanted this nightmare to end.

I didn’t want him to die…

“F… Fa… Father, please… don’t die… I beg you…”