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[“Notes of Jin Van Strezzhume: Mission into the Godless Continent | Objective: Locate the base-of-operations belonging to the Children of Chaos and obtain whatever information I can on them. The more information I get, the higher the Foundation will reward me.”]
Sitting behind a set of rocks, a half-elf man dressed in dark garments peeked from beyond his cover, looking upon a structure in the near distance that exuded a terrible aura; it was a pitch-black fortress, hidden behind a stretch of mist, locked away in a forsaken land. The castle was enormous, reaching high into the abyssal skies, looming over with a disgusting feeling that oozed from it.
The winds natural to the “Godless Continent” were abhorrent, carrying the smell of death with a sweeping chill that left no sense of comfort for any mortal. A place that utterly rejected humanity; that is where the man found himself.
The man with silver hair and emerald eyes pulled out a journal from beneath his black coat, beginning to write down in it.
[“I’ve discovered their hideout. Approximately four-hundred kilometers west from the mountainside entry into the Godless Continent. It can be found by passing through the mist–however, that was a task in itself. The mist…attacked me. It’s hard to explain, but just keep pushing through.”]
Finishing his journal entry, he placed the book beneath his jacket again, sitting with his back against the rock as he breathed out slowly, wincing somewhat as he held his chest.
‘My condition is worsening by the hour. I’ve been here about a week now–every minute of being in this godforsaken land is a fight for my life. It’s weakening my body–the continent itself is rejecting me. They weren’t lying about that,’ he thought.
[“Jin Van Strezzhume” | Void Rank | “The Silent Shadow”]
Even for the elite adventurer who stood near the pinnacle of the Foundation in terms of rank, he found the forsaken continent to be one not worth the pay. However, the mission he was on went beyond monetary gain; he had his own reasons for taking it on.
STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.
–As enormous footsteps thundered across the ground, coming from somewhere near him, the man instinctively activated his own magic, shrouding his body in dense shadows that blended his existence with his environment.
Arriving beside the boulder that he hid behind, a carnivorous creature with obsidian scales and a massive jaw with rows of jagged teeth revealed itself, breathing out as its beady, scarlet eyes searched for prey.
The beast reared its head, roaring up to the sky as it breathed out an explosion of crimson flames, shooting to the night sky like fireworks. It seemed only to be some sort of intimidation tactic from the beast.
Jin stayed seated in the same spot, unseen by the beast as he remained intertwined with the shadows themselves, thanks to his unique magic.
‘My magic affinity is perfect for this place. That’s why the Foundation chose me for this mission–so, I can’t fail,’ he thought.
As the titanic beast continued stomping around the field of blackened grass, the invisible man stood up, casually walking through the field as he approached the fortress. There was no sound left by his boots as he walked through the grass, still remaining vigilant as he kept a low profile while closing in on the sable castle.
‘Even if they can’t see me, I need to suppress my mana signature perfectly. If they sense me even for a second, it’ll be over. Still…If I can just find out anything about them–their abilities, names, the layout of the castle, it’ll be priceless in taking them down,’ he thought.
From what he could sense, there was nobody guarding the front of the nebulous fortress, but that didn’t sit right with him. As he sat by one of the rocks for cover, peeking towards the front gates, he instead chose to walk around to find another way in.
‘Busting through the front door isn’t my style. I’ll be walking right into the lion’s den,’ he thought.
Stepping over a rocky cliff, he looked down upon a running waterfall, finding a gap on the side of the fortress that sat by the streaming river: a sewage area–a perfect find for the stealth adventurer.
‘…If I make it out of this, I’ll buy my little sister all of the presents she wants. Wait, she’s in academy now, isn’t she? I’ll make sure to pay for that…It’s the least I can do for being absent from her life for so long,’ he thought.
He carefully descended the waterfall, using a set of vines to lower himself as he looked up, seeing colossal, winged creatures flying in the high skies above. Each of the soaring creatures continuously called out, possessing a terrifying size.
‘It wasn’t like I was the first choice to take this mission. There aren’t many in the Foundation stupid enough to enter the Godless Continent. Guess I am, though,’ he thought.
As he came near the ledge that sat around the low-profile entrance to the daunting fortress, he leapt over nimbly, landing on his feet as he looked around.
It seemed as though the colossal, black keel was embedded into the mountain itself, with the section he stood on being a mossy cliff, leading into the castle tunnel.
‘Nothing around. It’s awfully quiet, too,’ he observed.
Stopping before entering the tunnel that smelled rank, of urine and discarded trash, he knelt down, placing his hand hair above the sewage water that flowed out.
From his glove, an army of black particles swept outward in every direction around the man, extending into the tunnel and running along every inch it could reach.
“Dark Sense,” he invoked silently, allowing the veil of shadows to touch everything nearby.
He could feel it; everything that the pitch-black particles touched were felt by him—a true sixth sense. Closing his eyes to fine tune this extra sense, he took in whatever was felt by the reconnaissance spell.
‘A couple rats. Not much else but trash,’ he observed.
Opening his eyes again, the sensory spell cast itself away into dust as he entered the secret passageway without any worry, confirming the absence of lurking threats. Upon entering the sewage tunnel, he immediately found himself leaning over, clutching his chest.
BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP.
“…Ngh…”
‘Looks like the reaper will be coming for me soon…sooner than I thought. That’s even more reason why I have to do this,’ he committed.
Still, even if he could look death in the face unflinchingly, there was something inside of him that wanted to keep living; something to keep moving onward for. Ironically enough, it was that same motivation that urged him to begin moving again, onward towards the fire, slowly entering the length of the secret tunnel as he wiped the sweat from his chin.
[“I’ve been on hundreds, maybe thousands of missions, many of which I’ve come close to death. After a while, I stopped thinking. I became like a golem; only moving towards the goal in front of me, not letting anything else distract me. For some reason, right now, I can’t stop thinking of other things…home, my sister…Is death really creeping up on me this fast?”]
Slowly exhaling through his barely parted lips, he straightened himself up, walking without giving in to the near constant pain residing in his chest. His boots sifted through the repugnant water that inhabited the secretive tunnel.
The darkness within the passageway didn’t restrict him in the slightest; in complete darkness, his sight was at its best. Through the quiet path, the closer he got to reaching the nest of the nefarious group, the more that the memories buried deep within his mind began to resurface.
Images of a burning village filled his head as he winced, remembering the smell of burnt flesh and the screams of his kin; it was a sour memory, one he held onto since he was a child.
–
[Thirty Years Ago]
Above everything else, he remembered the close encounter he had on that fateful night as a child; helpless and afraid, he clutched his small sister in his arms as his parents were already slain in the very same room.
“Why do you look at me with eyes filled with such hatred, child? Death is a beautiful thing. I’ve gifted that to your parents. And soon, you will receive it, too!”
The maddened cultist, dressed in black robes, laughed maniacally, holding the bloody dagger as he neared the two half-elf children.
All the silver-haired boy could do was close his eyes and clutch his sister, protecting her as he prepared to receive the murderous blow for her, “It’ll be alright, Celly…–”
It was an experience that a child should never experience; the gravity of their own mortality as death crawled up their spine, choosing to sacrifice themselves for another. However, before the dagger could meet his back–
“Ghhk–!”
The sound of the maddened cultist wincing was followed by a squelch that resounded against the boy’s ears.