67 more deaths.
"A dungeon will be cleared today."
They entered.
He feels it—not the overwhelming aura of the being they will soon face. The screams of his body, his mind, his soul. Dread washes over him.
"I will die," he mutters.
"I don't want to die."
His comrades observe him, confusion palpable.
"Are you oka—" Mira is cut off.
He leaps. His body moves on its own, the fear visible on his face. He's scared, but still charges, rushing toward this being with madness in his eyes.
"I will die."
He mutters under his breath. He steadies his resolve. He unsheathes his sword in a swift movement, his eyes locked on a singular target—the silhouette of a being.
He swings his sword in a quick and precise arc, hoping to end it once and for all.
"DIE!!!!" he yells, his voice reverberating, his gaze portraying his willingness to survive, to end this cycle.
Its neck is all that's in his sight. A singular powerful swing, mustered with all his strength.
The sword shatters. The sound of broken pieces of steel echoes around the cave.
"Huh?"
Confusion, disbelief, tension, despair—all could be felt in the room.
"Ha… ha," he scoffs.
Death.
A dream. A peculiar dream.
In this dream, he dies over and over again.
In the same place, in the same way, at the same time.
He sees it—how his teammates die, how many times they die, how many times he dies. Not clearly, but fragmented. It may not have been perfect, but the message was clear.
If he and his party enter that gate—
THEY WILL DIE.
Alarm rings.
He jolts awake, sweating, panting for air. Eyes red, heart pounding so fast it feels like it'll explode at any minute, his head throbbing like it was smashed by a brick.
"Huff… huff," he gasps.
He cries. His tears overflow, his muffled sobs, his strained sniffles. Even in this moment of sadness, he laughs. "Haha." He's relieved. In this small moment, there exists a feeling—a feeling of triumph, of victory.
"Finall—"
"!"
He rushes out of his house, the TV playing in the background.
"Another dungeon…"
"…will be cleared toda—"
Door slams.
He runs with all his might, losing breath. He's never once in his life run so desperately, but this situation calls for it.
"Is he still not here yet?" Kade asks.
"No… oh, here he comes…" Mira replies, confusion visible on her face.
Their leader—an S-rank hunter, a man they've known for so many years, always calm, always composed—runs so desperately. Despair and helplessness are visible on his face, tears flowing from his eyes.
"WAIT!!!" he yells.
"WE CAN'T GO IN!"
"What?" Kade replies. "And why is that? We've been preparing for week—"
Shock. Kade notices his expression. He sees the tears flowing from his leader's eyes.
"Please," he whimpers. "We can't raid it… at least not yet. I've seen it… we die."
"Over… and over… and over again."
His cries become louder. Confusion and pity spread. Some sympathize, some are dissatisfied, some disappointed.
"O-okay," Kade replies. "Let… let's just go back. We can come back another day."
Mira chimes in, pity visible on her face. "Fine… everyone fall back. We'll be retreating for now."
A smile creeps onto his face. Relief washes over him.
"Finally…" he mutters. "…I won't die."
In a faraway place, somewhere no human can be present, a place only a being beyond comprehension resides, a silhouette is seen. A higher existence watches.
He is pleased.
He is amused.
A grin forms on his face.
"Interesting," he utters.
Just his voice alone shakes the entire environment—truly a higher existence.
He gets up, happy over his victory. His heart is beating intensely. Is it happiness, or is it something else?
Burst.
His heart explodes. Next, his brain. Blood—blood overflowing from his eyes, his ears, his mouth. He can't even muster the strength to cough. He loses the color in his eyes, his skin turning pale.
"HEY!" Kade yells.
He can't hear it. It sounds distant.
He collapses.
Death.