Chapter 2: The Forgotten Valor
The battle had begun.
The sky above the town was burning orange, smoke billowing from shattered rooftops as monsters poured in like a tide of nightmares. Explosions thundered. Screams echoed across crumbling streets.
Corporal Roy barked orders, rifle in hand, a sword strapped across his back. "Form the line! Hold formation! Don't let them breach the gates!"
His eyes scanned the monsters—twisted beasts with glistening black skin and multi-eyed heads.
"I remember you," he muttered. "Category: Abyss Hounds. Weak points... upper spine and inner jaw."
He gritted his teeth. Decades ago, these were just sprites on a screen. Now, they tore through reality.
One of the front line soldiers screamed, being dragged into the swarm. Blood sprayed the wall.
"Hold the damn line!"
Just then—a blinding burst of blue energy flashed from above. Magic rained down.
An adventurer team had arrived.
Glittering armor. Dazzling spells. Swords that hummed with enchantment. They charged, unleashing powerful AOE attacks that sent monsters scattering.
"We're saved!" Roy shouted. "Adventurers are here! They're on our side!"
Relief washed over the soldiers. For a moment, they believed.
The leader of the adventurer party—an A-Rank knight named Velrun—stepped forward, gleaming with pride.
"You're safe now!" he called out, voice booming. "We're here to protect every single one of you!"
The civilians cheered:
"Velrun! You're my idol!"
"We're saved, thank the gods!"
"I want to be just like you!"
But the soldiers who had been holding the line, who stood ready to die, were forgotten in an instant.
One soldier whispered bitterly, clutching the body of his fallen friend:
"This isn't fair..."
Others nodded silently, expressions dark.
"We bleed. We break. And no one remembers."
Roy closed his eyes. Twenty-three years, and nothing changes.
He said nothing, only turning away as the crowd praised the adventurers.
As he walked alone through the ruined town, the sound of celebration far behind him, a voice stopped him.
"Hey, mister."
He turned. A small girl stood in front of him, holding a piece of bread wrapped in cloth.
"You shouldn't be out here," he said gently.
She stepped closer. "Here. For you."
Roy froze. "...Thank you."
He knelt down, patting her head.
She smiled. "Thank you for saving our town."
She turned and walked away, waving. "Bye-bye, mister!"
He clutched the bread. His throat tightened. His vision blurred.
"...Thank you... little girl."
He ate the bread quietly, like it was a feast. The first recognition in years.
Back at the inn, soldiers looked for rest.
"Any room left?" one asked.
The innkeeper scowled. "You? Haven't you done enough? A dozen died because you couldn't hold the walls."
An angry mother stormed toward them. "Because of you—my son is DEAD!"
She shoved the soldier. He stumbled back.
"Why is it our fault?!" another asked, bewildered.
"Because you're WEAK!" the old woman screamed.
Everyone froze. Guilt choked the air.
Roy stepped forward.
"We didn't want this," he said quietly. "We fought. We bled. Many of our own died protecting this town. We gave everything to stop the misery. You blame us for surviving—but we didn't survive unscathed."
The woman's face crumpled into tears. The civilians around her looked away, ashamed.
"Come," Roy told the others. "Let's go."
Inside their room, the soldiers were silent.
Roy looked at them.
"You're strong," he said. "Even when the world ignores us. Even when we lose our comrades. We fight—for the people, for our families, for the world."
One soldier nodded, eyes glassy. "You're right. We fight for everyone."
They went to their rooms. But Roy couldn't sleep.
"I'm not strong," he whispered, clutching his chest. "I'm weak..."
He covered his face, tears streaming down.
"I have to be stronger."
Morning.
Loud voices outside.
Roy opened the door. Soldiers were gathering, murmuring in disbelief.
"This can't be…"
He stepped through the crowd and froze.
A soldier had hanged himself.
The same one who always smiled. The one who made jokes to cheer others up.
Roy cut the rope and gently laid the body down.
"Rest in peace, my fellow soldier."
Others murmured:
"We didn't know…"
"He was always smiling… I didn't see it."
"I should've noticed…"
Tears fell silently.
Meanwhile, the adventurers had reached the stronghold.
A massive stone gate loomed before them, wrapped in arcane symbols and black vines.
"We camp here," said the second-in-command. "We raid tomorrow."
Campfires lit. Food was cooked. Buffs were applied.
Then—it appeared.
A white-cloaked creature, massive and grotesque, stood at the gate. Long tongue. Razor teeth. A scythe bigger than a man.
Leader Velrun stepped forward. "We're prepping for our feast, beast. Get out of the—"
SLAASH.
The scythe struck like thunder.
Velrun and his core team were cleaved apart.
The others rushed out.
"What happened?!"
"VELRUN IS DEAD?!"
Above the monster's head:
Guardian of Ancient Sanctuary
Lvl: ???
HP: 400/400
Status: Immune to Physical & Magic Damage
Notification: Quest Unlocked
Reviving the Forgotten Ancient Civilizations
Defeat: Guardian of Ancient Sanctuary
Reward: Scroll of the Past
Failure: Respawning of the Ancient Ghost King
"It's an ultra-rare quest!" someone shouted.
"But… we have to fight that thing? Our A-rank leader just died!"
"Let's try! Everyone prepare for battle!"
They attacked—magic, arrows, blades.
Nothing worked.
"We can't damage it!"
The boss raised its scythe again—cutting through dimensions. A third of the adventurers died in one blow.
"WHAT IS THIS BROKEN BOSS?!"
One adventurer used a high-level status checker.
His hands trembled.
"S-S-SSS RANK…!"
"What the—are you kidding me?!"
Then, the monster activated a skill.
Revival of the Dead Ones
Effect: Revives all fallen beings within 70 meters and controls them.
A glowing white aura spread across the battlefield.
The dead adventurers stood up—perfectly healed.
At first, the others thought it was a prank.
"You're kidding, right?" one asked.
Then one of them stabbed a living adventurer.
"Wh—why?!"
The stabbed one revived too.
More revived. More turned.
"Protect yourselves!"
Chaos erupted.
Clang. Bang. Scream. Blood.
A kneeling adventurer begged. "Please, don't… remember me? I shared food with y—"
Pierced through the heart.
He revived too.
Back in town, Roy knelt at his friend's grave, unaware of the ancient horror approaching from beyond the gates…