Taragon had been sent on countless missions over the past ten years of war, surviving hundreds of battles. He had suffered serious injuries, many of them fatal wounds that left him on the brink of death.
However, he could say with certainty that none of them had hurt as much as the pain he felt in his forehead right now. It was beyond sharp and almost dizzying. The pain was so intense it felt like his senses were about to short-circuit the moment it struck. And yet, it was a familiar pain.
“Keter?!”
There was only one person in the world who could inflict this kind of pain. It couldn’t be an illusion. Taragon shot to his feet and grabbed Keter in a tight embrace.
“Keter, it’s really… it’s really you!”
Like a child afraid something precious might vanish if he let go, Taragon held on tightly.
Keter grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away, clicking his tongue.
“Damn, look how old you’ve gotten. How much time has passed?”
“Keter… you really don’t know?”
To Keter, it had felt like no more than a week. In the outside world, though, ten years had passed.
It’s been at least five years. Damn you, Heavenly Venerable. I’m going to get back at you no matter what.
Taragon opened his mouth to explain, but Keter stopped him.
“Wait. The ones who can survive should get out.”
And then, Keter vanished like a mirage.
Startled, Taragon looked around frantically, but there was no trace of him.
“Keter? Keter?!”
The Crusaders’ crossbowmen specialized in urban warfare, pursuit, and stealth. Taragon himself was the best tracker in Sefira. And yet, there wasn’t a single trace of Keter anywhere. Still, Taragon no longer thought it was a dream as the monster-human’s severed ankles remained.
“What does he mean, the ones who can survive should get out…?”
“One down.”
Keter’s voice suddenly came from beside him. Startled, Taragon turned. Instead of Keter, he saw Caesar staring at him blankly.
“C-Captain?”
“Caesar?”
“Am I dead? I’m sure my neck was cut…”
Taragon and Eren had drawn the enemy’s attention to save Caesar, but another monster had pursued him as well. A bird with a sword-like beak had chased him down. He had been caught, moments from death.
Caesar had shut his eyes, and in that instant, Keter had appeared, saved him, and brought him back. Everything had happened too fast. One moment, he felt like he was floating in the air. Next, he was standing in front of Taragon.
And it didn’t stop there. More of the Crusaders’ crossbowmen—those thought to be dead—began appearing one after another beside Taragon.
“Garen! You’re alive!”
“Captain? And Caesar?! Am I dead?”
They had all been scattered, each on the verge of death or locked in desperate battles against monsters. Keter found every one of them and rescued them.
When all ten had gathered, Keter finally appeared before them.
“I saved everyone I could.”
At those words, Taragon swallowed back the tears threatening to spill and pressed his fist to his chest.
“Thank you, Keter.”
Hearing that, the crossbowmen stirred.
“Keter? Don’t tell me… that Keter?”
“The one they call the Divine Bow…!”
“He looks a bit different from the portraits… but it’s definitely him!”
Ten years had passed since Keter disappeared.
In that time, many young people of Sefira had become soldiers and knights, and others had joined from outside. To them, Keter was a legend—someone whose feats they had only heard about.
Now, seeing him in person, they couldn’t hide their awe.
Keter glanced at them and said simply, “Follow me. The last one gets no food.”
* * *
The underground hideout in Keter’s tower in Liqueur was dusty, but strangely intact. This was something even Keter hadn’t expected.
And right in plain sight, as if meant to be found, was a single sheet of paper. Keter picked it up and read it.
—Thank you for everything. Take care. July 2, 1662
The rough handwriting, and the thoughtfulness of leaving a date… It was clearly from Black and White, the old men who were guarding his office.
“1662…”
Keter had arrived in Liqueur in 1657, which meant the old man had stayed here for five years, maintaining the place.
…Damn. Thank you, grandpas.
There was another letter. This one was from Rognel, the one Keter had saved before descending underground. Unlike the short note from Black and White, this one was densely written.
—Keter. There’s no way a lunatic like you would die. I’ve written down everything I know about what’s happening in Liqueur. I hope it helps.
It described the situation in Liqueur, and what he had seen and heard. It wasn’t extremely detailed, but one line put Keter at ease.
—The Mercenary Guild and the White Lotus Society have joined forces. They’re gathering the surviving residents of Liqueur and heading to a safe place. For reference, the guild leader is Joyray, and the leaders of the White Lotus Society are Stella and Balt. I’m going with them as well. Oh, and if you’re reading this, Joyray told me to pass this message on: ‘You crazy son of a bitch.’ I’m just writing what I was told. April 7, 1661
“…Seriously.”
Unfortunately, there was no mention of where they had gone—no code, no clues. It could have been just in case someone else saw it, or maybe even Rognel didn’t know. Still, Keter couldn’t help but smile.
Knowing that Joyray, Stella, and Balt were alive gave him a strange sense of relief.
Grrrrr…
A loud stomach growl echoed through the hideout. Taragon scratched his head awkwardly.
“I haven’t eaten anything for a week…”
“Same.”
There was a food storage area in the hideout, but Keter didn’t expect much. He had stocked supplies before, but not enough to last ten years. Plus, this place had been occupied by Black and White and Rognel. There shouldn’t be anything left.
“There is.”
There wasn’t much: just a single sack and several glass bottles. Inside the sack were crude, hard biscuits. Inside the bottles was a pale pink liquid. This wasn’t what Keter had prepared. Someone had restocked the place.
“Ha.”
The biscuits were hard and salty, and the liquid was diluted elixir. Whether it was Black and White or Rognel who left them, Keter silently thanked them both and carried the supplies upstairs.
“Whoa!”
The moment the others saw the food, they practically drooled. Even the rough biscuits made them salivate. Seeing that, Keter didn’t even feel like teasing them.
“Let it dissolve in your mouth slowly. You’ll tear up your gums otherwise.”
Though Keter looked like a young man, he spoke to the seasoned soldiers like he was calming children. However, no one found it strange because to Sefira, Keter was practically a god. Since Transcendentals didn’t age easily, they assumed he was far older than he appeared. Some even teared up, thinking his casual tone was an act of mercy.
Despite the dusty underground and the meager food, the Crusaders acted as if they had arrived in paradise.
“Like Keter said, eat slowly.”
Even then, Taragon divided his share among the others. Keter walked over to him.
“Big Brother.”
“I’m fine without eating.”
“No, I want an explanation. How many years has it been? And what happened?”
“Ah… right. That’s why I stayed here waiting for you.”
Taragon hadn’t remained in Liqueur just to find Keter. Keter had disappeared here; if he returned, it would most likely be here. And when he did, Taragon’s mission was to tell him everything that had happened.
“Keter. It’s been ten years since you disappeared. During that time, this country…”
Taragon didn’t ramble. He had always believed Keter was alive, so he had rehearsed what to say, and how. Because of that, in just thirty minutes, Keter fully understood everything that had happened during his ten-year absence.
“…So the world alliance’s main force is advancing on the Demon King Rukan, and we’re under attack by monsters? Kekeke…”
After hearing everything, Keter ran a hand through his hair.
“So you guys were having all the fun without me?”
“Keter, what the hell happened to you?”
“Just a bunch of messed-up shit.”
Summing up his entire experience in a single sentence, Keter stood up.
“Do you know the way from here to Sefira?”
“If we’re not attacked, it’s possible to get there. But why?”
“I’ll go ahead first. You stay here a day or two, then move.”
“Wait, Keter…”
Taragon was going to warn Keter—that it was too dangerous—but he stopped himself. He suddenly remembered that something like this had happened before. When that happened, this was what Keter had said.
“I’ll show you who it’s really dangerous for.”
After all, Keter had just killed a monster they couldn’t even wound in a single strike.
“Looks like I’m in your debt again. Thank you.”
Taragon changed what he was about to say.
Keter grinned. “As long as you know.”
And just like that, Keter set off on his journey home.
* * *
Teresa was a city famous for its vast fruit orchards. Once bustling with merchants and full of life, it had now become a ghost town.
After the fog of Liqueur spread across the land, the fruits could no longer grow properly without sunlight. Even the ones that somehow managed to grow became toxic, turning into poisonous produce.
The worst part was that the city was dangerously close to Liqueur. Of course, Liqueur had never posed a problem since it was geographically separated by rugged mountains. But to the monsters that emerged with the spreading fog, such terrain meant nothing.
Sefira had long ago urged Teresa’s residents to evacuate, warning that it was too close to Liqueur and far too dangerous. Most people left, but some refused to abandon their homeland. Among those who stayed was the Zepirus family, who governed the city. They chose to remain and protect the remaining people.
And they endured remarkably well due to their large stockpile of dried fruit. More importantly, they hadn’t stayed out of stubbornness alone. For years, they had been improving fruit varieties. And when food shortages became severe, they focused all their efforts on developing crops that could survive in harsh conditions.
And now—seven years later—they had finally succeeded. They had invented an apple that could grow even in barren conditions. Upon discovering it, Tris, the alchemist, prepared to take its seeds to Sefira. But the day before she was to leave, monsters attacked the city.
Until then, the monsters had largely ignored Teresa’s survivors. There were few humans, and the defensive barriers they had built were dense and sturdy. But this time, a hundred monsters descended upon the city. No matter how strong the defenses, they couldn’t stop such overwhelming force.
“My lady, take the seeds! Without them, all our efforts will be for nothing!” shouted Regan, the commander of the Zepirus knights, as he cut down the tentacles flying toward them.
The young woman addressed by Regan hurriedly grabbed the pouch of seeds. Fear filled her heart, but her movements were swift.
“I’ll leave the rear to you!”
“Yes, my lady! Haaah!”
With a battle cry, Regan swung his sword in a wide arc. A massive sword aura erupted, forcing the monsters back for a moment. He seized the opening.
“Do not look back! Keep your eyes on my back only!”
As instructed, Tris ran, focusing only on his back. Behind her, she could hear the desperate battle cries of the knights, but she never turned around.
Thanks to their sacrifice, the two barely managed to escape the city. Panting heavily, they stumbled to a stop.
Regan kept his eyes closed, likely having injured his eyes during the escape, and said, “I’ve sent an emergency request to Sefira, but it’s uncertain whether reinforcements will arrive. I prepared a shelter for situations like this. We’ll hide there, assess the situation, and then depart…”
“R-Regan?”
“Why is your voice shaking?”
“Th-there’s something over there.”
“That’s impossible. You must be mistaken. Though I’ve lost my sight, I’ve expanded my sensory perception. There’s no one here but you and me.”
“No, there really is. A-a person. A man.”
“I see. Which direction?”
Regan assumed she was seeing things out of fear. Still, just in case, he raised his sword and moved toward where she pointed. Though blind, he was a six-star Grandmaster; his other senses were more than enough.
She probably mistook a tree for a person.
Still, there was a chance he could be wrong. As such, he coated himself in aura and advanced, ready to strike at any moment.
“H-he’s right in front of you!”
Slash!
At her words, Regan swung his sword like lightning toward the figure before him. It was a strike powerful enough to cleave through trees or stone, but…
Clang!
It was blocked too easily.
“What?!”
Regan couldn’t believe he was wrong—that there was truly a person, or some kind of monstrous being, in front of him. Instead of retrieving his deflected sword, Regan let it go and formed an Aura Sword in his hand, thrusting forward.
“Thought you looked familiar. You’re the guy who fought Anis, right?”
At the unfamiliar yet oddly recognizable voice, Regan felt an intense pain in his forehead, then collapsed backward.
Keter, who had knocked him out with a single flick to the forehead, frowned.
“Didn’t expect him to pass out in one hit.”
Normally, Keter had perfect control over his strength. But after breaking through Liqueur’s underground floors, his power had grown so much that he hadn’t adjusted to it yet.
“Kyahh!!” Tris screamed, thinking Regan had been killed.
Keter’s face immediately twisted in annoyance. Among the things he hated most in the world, women screaming was near the top.
“Shut up. Who are you?”
“P-please spare me! I’ll give you everything I have!”
“What do you take me for, a bandit?”
“Th-then who are you?”
“I’m Sefira’s Solver.”
“Huh?”
Tris looked confused, clearly unfamiliar with the title. Keter felt a bit bitter.
Guess after ten years, no one recognizes the title of Sefira’s Solver anymore.
After a moment of thought, he tried another title.
“You know Sefira’s Divine Bow, right?”
“Of course! He’s the savior of this nation, Sefira’s spiritual pillar. He is wise, compassionate, and a pioneer who redefined archery…”
There was a bit of exaggeration, but Keter puffed out his chest proudly.
“Heh. That’s me.”
“….”
Tris looked him up and down. She was a devoted admirer of the Divine Bow, but Keter looked nothing like the image she had in her head. He was cocky and rough around the edges. Still, Keter had just taken down a six-star Grandmaster instantly. So, she quickly dropped to her knees.
“If you truly are Sefira’s Divine Bow, please, help me.”
“Ah, don’t worry. I was going to help anyway.”
“R-really?!”
For a moment, Tris began to believe him… until his next words.
“First, hand over everything you’ve got.”
…You said you weren’t a bandit.
Tris swallowed those words.
