Year 1812, Imperial Era.
Far to the south of Northan City, within the territory of the Tur Raya Kingdom, lay the Lixy Forest—a vast stretch of dense and silent wilderness, a place where monsters and magical beasts claimed the forest as their home. Towering trees grew tightly packed, blocking out sunlight, while the air within was always damp and cold.
An adventurer named Ren was carrying out a mission to eliminate a pack of monsters known as Wulfaz. Their steps were steady as they moved through the forest, eyes alert, one hand never straying far from the hilt of the sword.
Wulfaz were white wolf-type monsters with a Rank D threat level. They usually lived in groups, consisting of five to seven individuals or more, and attacked in a coordinated manner—surrounding their prey, applying pressure from multiple directions, then finishing it off without leaving any opening.
Within every pack, there was always one leader—
the Wulfaz Alpha.
A Wulfaz Alpha was far stronger than ordinary Wulfaz, with a threat level one rank higher. Its body was larger, its combat instincts sharper, and its roar alone was enough to strip novice adventurers of their courage. This monster often became a nightmare for low- to mid-ranked adventurers—not only because of its strength, but because its presence frequently marked the beginning of a fatal mistake.
However, this was not a problem for Ren. As a Rank B adventurer, monsters of Rank C and below were not a threat to him—rather, they were prey he had faced countless times before.
A Wulfaz suddenly leapt from the left. Its jaws opened wide, fangs sharp like razors—enough to tear a human arm apart in a single bite.
Ren caught the movement from the corner of his eye.
He pivoted half a step, swinging his sword in a single reflexive motion. A brief flash of steel cut through the air—then the Wulfaz's body split in two, collapsing to the ground without ever reaching Ren.
There was no sweat on his brow.
His breathing remained calm.
A pack of Wulfaz was nothing in the face of Ren.
Until…
From behind the trees, something moved.
A Wulfaz far larger than the others emerged slowly, brushing aside bushes and branches that blocked its path. Its body was massive, its fur thicker than the rest, and its gaze locked onto Ren—sharp, filled with hostility, as if assessing the opponent standing before it.
It was a Wulfaz Alpha—the leader of the pack.
"Finally," Ren muttered softly. The corner of his lips lifted faintly. "This time, the leader didn't hide for too long."
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze remaining calm. In a mocking tone, Ren continued, "How rare. Aren't Alphas usually cowards?"
The words left his mouth casually, as if the monster before him could understand human language—or at least sense the insult directed at it.
The Wulfaz Alpha moved at once.
Without warning, its massive body lunged forward. The ground beneath its feet was struck hard, the tremor reaching all the way to where Ren stood.
Its sharp claws swept toward Ren's right leg.
The attack came in an instant—far too fast for an ordinary human to react.
Ren perceived it.
He immediately leapt backward, the soles of his feet striking the ground lightly yet decisively, maintaining a narrow distance between them. The claws sliced through empty air—the sharp rush of wind brushing past the side of his leg.
But the Wulfaz Alpha did not stop.
The moment its first attack failed, the monster adapted instantly. Its body lowered for a brief moment, then lunged again—this time with a bite.
Faster.
Stronger.
And far more lethal.
Its aggression surpassed any Wulfaz Ren had ever faced before. This was not mere instinctual assault—it was focused pressure.
Deflecting a Wulfaz Alpha's attack was no simple task.
The monster possessed strength nearly five times that of an adult man. When its jaws clamped down on Ren's sword, the brutal force was enough to hurl Ren's body several meters backward.
A heavy impact echoed as Ren was slammed into the ground.
He landed flat on his back, his breath knocked from his lungs for a brief moment. With both hands, Ren held onto the sword now trapped between the Wulfaz Alpha's jaws, the muscles in his arms tensing until they trembled.
The pressure was overwhelming.
And it did not end there.
The monster's claws struck Ren's body repeatedly—wild and heavy—leaving deep wounds and bleeding that could not be ignored. Pain spread rapidly, pressing down on his consciousness.
It was at that moment that Ren began to sense something was wrong.
A Wulfaz Alpha should not have been this strong.
This was the first time he had faced a Wulfaz Alpha capable of overwhelming him to such an extent. If not for the protective artifact he was wearing, his body might have already been torn apart by the monster's claws—without a trace left behind.
"Damn it! Are you pissed because I called you a coward? You damn monster!"
Ren continued to struggle, his breathing growing uneven. The muscles in his arms screamed under the pressure, his body forced to endure even as every movement became heavier.
At the same time, the other Wulfaz began to close in.
Their steps slowly narrowed the distance, forming a semicircle. Yet not a single one attacked. They merely stood there—poised, their eyes fixed on Ren.
Waiting.
As if a single command would be enough to end everything.
The situation tightened its grip. The air felt heavy, time itself seemed to slow. Ren realized—if this continued, he would not leave alive.
His life stood right at the very edge.
Then—
Without any warning sound, without any sign—someone appeared.
Ren sensed the presence first, even before truly seeing it.
The figure looked like a child. Long black hair flowed down their back, swaying gently in the wind. At a glance, they resembled a girl—but when observed more closely, they were neither male nor female.
Even when they opened their mouth, their voice was the same.
Neutral. Impossible to define.
Ren did not know what to call them.
They stood there in silence. Almost soundless, showing no intention at all.
Yet by their presence alone—
The Wulfaz showed fear.
Their bodies stiffened, their steps halted. Some even retreated half a step without realizing it. The Wulfaz Alpha let out a low growl, then shifted its gaze—its attention split.
That was enough.
Ren immediately took advantage of the opening, rolling away and drawing in a rough breath as distance was finally created between them.
What he saw next was difficult to put into words.
The child stepped forward—and the battle began.
They faced the Wulfaz Alpha directly, a monster that now appeared far larger and stronger than before. The Alpha's movements grew increasingly wild and aggressive, each stomp of its feet striking the ground until it cracked, leaving massive destruction in its wake.
Yet what shocked Ren the most was the child.
Somehow, they were overpowering the fight.
Their gaze was empty. Their face nearly devoid of expression. There were no shouts, no visible emotion.
They simply moved.
Attacking.
Defending.
Every step was precise, every motion efficient—without showing the slightest sign of being overwhelmed.
A thunderous impact echoed as their forces collided.
The Wulfaz Alpha moved—not fast, but too fast. Its motion surpassed sound itself, to the point that Ren's eyes could not follow its trajectory.
A claw swept in from the child's blind spot.
The attack narrowly missed.
The air split apart. The trees behind were instantly destroyed, trunks torn apart, the ground deeply cleaved by the lethal trail of the claws.
Had that strike landed—
But the child was unharmed.
There was no blood. No wound. Not even a sign that they had avoided the attack in panic.
Calmly, as if it had been calculated from the very beginning, the child stepped forward.
Then struck back.
A single punch.
Not excessive. Not accompanied by any elaborate movement.
The blow landed squarely on the Wulfaz Alpha's face.
The monster's body was lifted from the ground, sent flying hundreds of meters away before crashing into a rocky cliff with a thunderous roar. Stones collapsed, dust filled the air—and when everything settled, the Wulfaz Alpha no longer moved.
Instant death.
Ren stood frozen.
Several seconds passed before he realized his own breathing was still trembling. Then, without realizing it, he let out a short, dry laugh—faint, almost disbelieving.
What he had just witnessed was clearly not a battle at Rank C.
Even Rank A felt far too low to describe it.
This was already on the level of a clash between Rank S beings.
And that was a realm he had never truly understood—no matter how experienced he was as an adventurer.
Ren's bleeding was severe. His shoulder was nearly torn apart, blood still seeping through the ripped fabric of his clothes and protective gear. This was not an injury that could be resolved with an ordinary Healing Potion.
He knew that.
His body required immediate treatment—advanced healing magic.
Ren drew in a heavy breath, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Pain came in layers, dull yet constantly pressing, making it difficult for him to focus.
He did not know what had truly just happened.
This was the first time he had faced a Wulfaz Alpha that was far stronger, larger, and more aggressive than it should have been. It was not merely a matter of strength—something was different. Its movements. Its pressure. Its instincts.
As if something had influenced the monster.
Something even adventurers did not understand.
In the midst of his critical condition, Ren noticed movement ahead of him.
The child was walking toward him.
Their steps were calm. Neither rushed nor overly cautious. As if the battle moments ago had left no trace on them.
Ren lifted his gaze, suppressing the pain that stabbed again as his body shifted even slightly.
"I'm glad… you saved my life," he said with restraint. His voice was hoarse, his breath short. "But unfortunately, I was hit directly on the shoulder."
He paused for a moment, steadying his breath.
"This isn't a wound that can be healed with a potion," he continued quietly. "At the very least… it requires advanced healing magic."
The child did not respond.
They continued walking until they stood directly before Ren, who was seated and struggling against the pain. The distance between them was so close that Ren could feel their presence—cold, silent.
Without warning, the child extended a hand.
Their fingers touched the wound on Ren's shoulder.
A sharp surge of pain shot through him, piercing straight to the bone. Ren flinched, his jaw tightening, nearly screaming—but he forced himself to hold it back with what little consciousness he had left.
"What are you doing?" Ren asked tensely, his voice trembling.
There was no answer.
Ren did not understand what was happening. Just as he was about to open his mouth to ask again, the child finally spoke.
"Your wound—it has already stopped."
The voice was soft, yet clearly heard. Flat. Without emotion, without emphasis.
"What?"
Ren froze.
Slowly, his gaze dropped to his right shoulder. The wound that had been torn open and bleeding moments ago was no longer releasing a single drop of blood. The skin around it had closed neatly—more precisely, it had been sealed—as if stitched together by something invisible.
And only then did Ren realize something else.
The pain was gone.
Not reduced. Not suppressed.
Gone completely, without him realizing when it had happened.
Ren fell silent for a moment, trying to grasp what he had just experienced.
This—was not healing magic.
Nor was it a Healing Potion.
The wound had indeed been closed, but it had not regenerated in the way magic or potions accelerated the body's recovery. There was no warmth. No flow of mana. No sign of natural healing.
The injury had simply been sealed.
Not truly healed.
That realization slowly settled in his mind, giving rise to a strange, difficult-to-describe unease. How had the child done it? He was certain—there had been no chant, no magical medium, no special movement.
They had merely touched the wound.
And yet the result was this.
Ren wanted to ask. The urge rose strongly—not from curiosity alone, but from caution.
But he knew.
The child would not answer.
Not everyone was willing to reveal their secrets. There were things deliberately kept hidden—not to be protected, but because they were never meant to be known.
Ren was the same.
He had secrets—secrets he did not want anyone to know.
"…"
Ren drew in a slow breath.
"I'm truly grateful," he finally said. His voice was still hoarse, but steady. "Not only for helping me, but also for treating my wound."
He paused for a moment, looking at the child earnestly.
"If you wish, you can take the extermination reward," he continued. "Consider it my way of expressing thanks."
As an adventurer, Ren knew the rules well. The reward for completing a mission was meant to go to the party that truly finished it. And this time, that was clearly not him.
He had failed.
It was the child who had intervened—saving his life and bringing the battle to an end.
It was only right that the mission reward be given to them.
However, the child showed no interest at all. Their gaze remained empty, fixed on Ren, without any change in expression, without a single word spoken.
Ren blinked.
There was no refusal.
No acceptance.
No response of any kind.
The atmosphere gradually grew tense. Ren felt a strange sense of distance—not physical, but something difficult to put into words. He did not know what to say, or what he should do next.
The child remained silent.
They simply stood there, observing Ren from close range. Their gaze was calm—too calm—as if waiting for something even Ren himself did not understand.
"Um…" Ren let out a short breath. "Is there something you want from me?"
Silence.
No answer.
Ren fell quiet. All he received in return was the child's vacant stare—no signal, no hint.
Slowly, a realization surfaced in his mind.
It was not merely because he had never encountered someone like this before, but because he had never even heard of their existence at all.
Among adventurers—especially those of higher rank—names and reputations always circulated. Whether through mission reports, conversations within the guild, or simple rumors passed from mouth to mouth.
But about this child—
There was nothing.
Even among the Rank S adventurers Ren knew, not a single one possessed traits, an appearance, or an existence that came even close to the figure before him. It was as if someone like this had never been recorded in the world he knew.
Ren observed them once more.
The child's eyes were black, carrying a faint reddish tint when caught by the light. Their hair was long, flowing down to their waist, moving gently in the wind.
Their build resembled that of a child—around sixteen years old, perhaps slightly older. Their height was roughly one hundred and sixty centimeters, their body slender and seemingly light. Their skin was smooth, white like milk.
Their face appeared feminine—yet not that of a woman, nor that of a man.
They wore black clothing from head to toe, giving off a somber, cold impression. Their expression remained flat, nearly unchanged since the moment Ren first looked at them.
At that moment, a possibility began to form in Ren's mind.
Perhaps this child was not an adventurer.
Perhaps they were a Wanderer—those who traveled without binding themselves to any guild or nation, searching for something only they themselves understood. Ren had heard a little about them. Some were rumored to possess extraordinary power, even said to be on par with Rank S.
The thought did not arise without reason.
There was no guild mark. No rank insignia. No attitude of an adventurer accustomed to being evaluated or acknowledged.
Only a presence that stood on its own.
At the same time, Ren realized something else.
He did not even know their name.
Perhaps, by introducing themselves to each other, he might begin to understand who the child standing before him truly was.
"Sorry," Ren said quietly. "It seems I haven't introduced myself yet."
He straightened his seated posture slightly.
"My name is Ren Lewin, a Rank B adventurer."
Ren drew in a brief breath before continuing.
"If you don't mind—may I know your name?"
Just like before, the child fell silent again.
The silence made Ren think that they truly did not wish to reveal their identity.
But—
"Arma—"
The voice was brief. Just a single word.
Ren understood its meaning.
Just a name—and nothing more.
"Arma? I see," Ren replied slowly. "Once again, thank you… Arma."
A sense of relief washed over Ren, though he did not know why. He did not understand the child's purpose, nor the reason for their presence.
Yet something lingered—
His meeting with Arma might be a beginning.
The beginning of changes that would follow—whether good or bad.
But beneath all of that, Ren's thoughts focused on a single thing.
His younger sister.
Seeing Arma stirred old memories—memories he had nearly buried deep within himself.
They were the most precious things still left in his mind.
Family.