Gritting his teeth, he muttered, "Damn it. How many times must I survive the clutches of death before my luck runs out?"
The waves slammed against him, drowning out all his thoughts. Cold mist shrouded everything around him, and he stood in the middle of it all, left defenseless against what loomed before him.
He had nothing left. His Black Knight was badly damaged, and he didn't even know what he was fighting. Only its silhouette could be seen, shifting inside the thick mist of clouds.
Looking up, he noticed a shadow looming above him. A giant tentacle came crashing down like judgment from the gods. His terrified gaze froze on it.
He snapped his eyes open. He was no longer in the ocean but surrounded by faces he couldn't make out. In a normal situation, they all would have been dead before any of them could mutter a word. But what he had encountered a day ago left him traumatized.
So instinctively, he pushed himself up and leapt backward, putting distance between himself and them.
"Who are you all?" His voice shook with panic.
His eyes moved from one face to another. The people were just blurs. He wasn't sure if they were human or not.
"…Where am I?"
"Calm down, kid." A woman's voice—low, calming.
She took a few steps forward, careful not to scare him. She lowered herself and met his gaze. Her tone was smooth, almost disarming. Like honey. Then she wrapped a towel around him.
"You'll be okay."
'We are not dead… what the hell was that monster?'
"I don't know. But I never thought something could be that massive."
Whatever it was, it had done a number on his Ebony Knight. That beast had torn off both its arms and legs. He had almost lost his strongest warrior.
After bracing himself, his tone came out shaky.
"Where… am I?"
"Well, right now we're near the Bleakwater Sea. We found you lying on the shore while we were passing by."
He turned his head toward the waves. The surface looked calm, as if nothing hid beneath it.
Hallucination? Impossible. No way it was. Those bright yellow eyes—he remembered them too clearly to be a hallucination.
He had seen his share of strange creatures, but picturing that beast immediately sent cold shivers down his spine.
It wasn't a creature. It was a god.
Because he was still somewhat traumatized, he was barely able to move, so the gentle woman and her husband helped him.
Before they could go any farther, the sun had sunk into the ocean, and the silver moon rose to take its shift.
The ones escorting them stopped in the middle of what had once been a city, but now was nothing more than rubble. One of the men lit a campfire. The flames crackled against the night air, keeping everyone warm.
And sitting all the way in the corner by a dead tree stump, he distanced himself from the others. Quietly, he fed Ari—his tiny snake—some of his poisonous blood.
The little creature was drained, her body slack with fatigue. If she hadn't stunned it, he would already be swimming with the fishes. Somehow, this little thing had been able to drag him up to the surface.
"Are you a beast tamer?"
Two shadows fell over him. He looked at the man and woman, then back at Ari. After thinking for a while, not knowing how to answer their question, he just shook his head.
In their hands was a small portion of food. He stared at it with wide eyes. Real food. Something he hadn't tasted in years. He devoured it in silence, not caring how sloppy or unmannered he looked. Tears blurred his vision with every bite.
'It's so good.'
"I know."
Watching him eat like a starving animal, they passed him some scraps from their own plates, sacrificing even more of their portions. He glanced at them.
"Thank you."
He cleaned that up just as quickly. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was far better than raw snakes.
After he finished eating, the woman took his hand. Something strange flowed through him. He didn't know what it was, only that it felt familiar—like the way the two serpent spirits had moved around him before disappearing.
"Now put it on."
He studied her, then gave her a confused look, not sure what she meant.
"Put on what?"
She smiled softly, as usual, and went on explaining it to him. She had transferred two clothing shards to his core. The thing about clothing shards was that they could adapt themselves to the wearer, shifting to fit any size and shape.
'Really? That's so cool.'
Because she had given them willingly, the shards no longer belonged to her. They were his now.
But she could not explain how to access one's core. The only thing she and her husband said was that people only awakened their mana core after a traumatic event—one that forced their body to survive.
While the couple was kind, the ones they traveled with were not. Protecting them were seven hunters, hired to escort them to the next state. In a world swallowed by monsters, people paid shards and coin to buy themselves a path forward, and these hunters were no different.
And those hunters seemed worse than the monsters. Their tone was ugly, their presence heavier than the night itself. Through the night, they tormented the couple, demanding more payment, handing out less food, punishing them for the simple choice of bringing him along.
They didn't look like protectors. They looked more like the ones who might rob you rather than save you. They were the kind parents told their children to run from.
For protection, they wore scraps of light armor—cloth strapped with bits of steel across the chest and arms. Barely enough to stop a blade but light enough to move. Cheap, careless gear.
But what unsettled him most was that he saw no weapons on them. That alone made his chest tighten. Men who walked without visible weapons were either fools or far more dangerous than they looked.
'Do you think they also have those shard things?'
"I think so. People don't get that confident for no reason. Maybe that armor isn't even for fighting. Maybe it's just to move easier."
Nevertheless, he ignored their cold glances and forced himself to focus. For him, it wasn't that difficult.
Closing his eyes, he tried to picture his father. He stared at his hollow eyes as he let him drop. The wind howled in his ears, the hissing coiled around him. He braced for the stone waiting below, certain it would break him.
But nothing came.
After a few seconds, he opened his eyes. This place was dark and empty. Turning his head, he noticed his inner voice lying beside him. It wasn't just a voice anymore but had a physical body, almost like a shadow wearing his face. Just as expected, it was part of him after all.
They looked the same, except this version of him had black hair. The place around them was small, yet warm and strangely cozy.
'Oh, let's never leave this place,' the other him muttered, his expression dripping with joy.
The Black Knight shard cracked, floating in the middle of the space, slowly regenerating. His mana trickled into it, repairing it little by little.
In the corner, two bronze shards floated. He reached for them.
[Plain Cotton Shirt] (Common)
A simple piece of clothing. Offers no protection, no enhancements. At least you won't be naked.
[Worn Trousers] (Common)
Rough fabric, patched in places. Suitable for walking, sitting, and looking vaguely presentable. Nothing more.
"Oh, even clothing comes with ranking. Guessing different colors mean different rank."
'Seems so. How do we get stronger ones?' his other self asked.
He grabbed them. "We'll figure it out later."
Looking down, he realized his ripped clothes were replaced by the black shirt and loose pants. The fabric pressed gently against his skin, too soft, almost unreal. And Ari seemed to love the fabric too.
The moon cast its pale light over the field. They pitched their tents beneath it. Seeing this, he almost questioned why they would camp in the open, but he noticed the hunters were standing guard.
'I guess that's why they're getting paid,' he muttered. They would most likely take turns keeping watch.
Saying sleep came easy would be a lie. He could barely sleep, not because the tent they gave him was uncomfortable—it wasn't—but because those damn hunters couldn't keep their mouths shut all night.
He lost count of how many times he thought about killing those idiots. Not because they had ruined his peace, but because they had bad-mouthed the couple or demanded more money and shards. Even though he didn't know who they were, they had saved him, given him food. For that, he was grateful.
But not being able to sleep after going through hell and surviving death itself felt like a slap in the face. They had to be up early. According to the hunters, they had to pass a place called Hollow Lake.
He wasn't fully sure if they were making it up just to make the journey sound scarier, but the leader of the group seemed serious. A giant of a man, wrapped in the most glamorous armor. Shiny, polished, and utterly impractical. Probably bought with money squeezed out of desperate travelers.
"It seemed like the leader of the group had an armor shard."
His face wasn't bad either. A few scars cut across his features, making him look like he had actually earned the armor. The scars gave him that tough look. Too bad his men ruined the illusion.
He glanced at the others. "But the rest still look lame. They're wearing the same ones from last night."
Light armor, cheap steel strapped to their chests, and the kind of eyes that screamed they would sell you out for half a coin. He smirked to himself. Sheep in borrowed armor, trying to pass as wolves.
The Hollow Lake was about sixty miles from where they currently stood.
It was said to have once been a beautiful city until the Calamity struck and wiped out sixty percent of the population. Cities, counties, entire regions were destroyed. Hollow Lake had been a thriving city until it sank. No one escaped, not with the monsters waiting there.
"So the people just died?" he asked.
"No. The lake corrupted them."
"So… was the city near a lake or something?"
"No. It was in the middle of an open field."
He blinked a few times. 'How the hell does a city sink in dry land?'
"I have no idea. I think it's a scam. Those fools just want to charge more money."
But the way those words slipped out—too casual, too certain—made his stomach twist. He glanced at the others. 'You're all buying this nonsense?' Their looks told him they were. But one thing caught his interest.
He looked at the man with a strange expression. "So… what was the Calamity?"
They all looked at him like he was a stranger. Well, he kind of was, but their eyes said something else—it was as if he had spoken a foreign language.
It left him feeling unsettled because all their eyes were on him.
'What did I miss while I was trapped on that cursed island?'
Because this place, their world, felt nothing like the one he had heard of from people on the island.