“So, in the end, we agreed to work together… but how exactly do you plan to find the master? Avoiding the same areas won’t change much—it’s no different from what we’ve been doing alone.”
“Let’s put out a bounty.”
“…Are you insane? This is someone who’s been hiding from us for years. The moment they spot search notices, they’ll bury themselves even deeper. We might never see them again.”
“We won’t plaster it everywhere. Just discreet postings—inns, taverns, roadside stalls. Like you said, this person’s been avoiding our eyes so far… maybe it’s time we borrow other people’s.”
“Our own reach has limits, after all.”
“……”
“So, any objections?”
Caa, caaak.
Flap, flap.
A flock of black crows flooded the sky, blotting out the sun, their wings stirring the air with an ominous screech—as if heralding an end.
Amid that unnatural, oppressive scene, a lone man stood still, his gray, lifeless eyes drifting upward, searching for the source. His gaze, however, swayed unfocused, as though caught between reality and illusion.
Moments passed, and then—through the flurry of wings—a dry voice broke the heavy silence.
“…Enough with the games. Come out already.”
“……”
“I know you’re there.”
He had come too far for them to ignore him now.
As if in response to his quiet words, the chaotic sound of wings began to fade.
The black crows, previously unseen yet ever-present, converged to a single point—until a figure emerged from within the darkness. A chilling voice followed.
“I was curious to see who would dare look for me… and it turns out, it’s you.”
The crows perched calmly on the stranger’s shoulders or circled lazily overhead as he stepped closer, his narrow eyes studying the man before him with slow precision.
“I didn’t expect it to be you.”
A smirk—perhaps genuine, perhaps forced—curved his lips.
“You, the one who plunged the world into chaos… made my life infinitely harder. And now you come, bold as ever, seeking me. Isn’t that rich?”
“……”
“Well, no matter. You’ve caught my attention, so I’ll let it slide for now. Besides, finding me means you’re connected to ‘her’ somehow—and that… intrigues me. But that can wait.”
As the words left his mouth, the figure shifted forms—his body morphing into that of a woman. Her eyes glittered, her wide smile dripping with playful menace.
Her face radiated hypnotic allure, decadent and sharp enough to snare anyone, man or woman. Yet the man before her—his dull gray eyes—remained empty, unmoved.
Undeterred by his cold indifference, she reached out a hand.
“…!”
A shiver traced the man’s spine as her icy fingers brushed the corner of his eye. His instincts screamed to recoil—but he stood his ground. His stillness seemed to amuse the being, who let out a soft, low laugh and spoke as if reciting verse:
“Those who surrender to death call me.
Those who crave life seek me.
But you… You come to me with eyes that abandoned life, yet you still found me.”
Her form changed again—a crone, a child—before reverting to the original male figure.
Their voice shifted with every guise, playful and teasing. Finally, they stepped closer, leaning in to whisper, their breath cold as winter.
“What is it you desire?”
Their tone was honeyed, but the frost clinging to their presence stirred a primal rejection—deep, suffocating fear.
The man shut his eyes slowly, his lashes trembling, unable to fully mask his hesitation and dread.
At last, he exhaled, pressing down the turmoil twisting within, and spoke:
“To extend my life.”
There once was a figure who shook the world—
No, not a person, but a whisper. A rumor.
The tale of the “Servant of Death” spread like wildfire.
The stories varied. Some said he wasn’t human at all. Others whispered he was the criminal behind the Portal Incident. Some claimed he was an Awakened—or a sorcerer who defied forbidden boundaries.
Yet, at the core of every rumor, a few details remained constant: long black hair, and piercing green eyes glowing with eerie light.
They said he appeared when Death failed to claim its due—harvesting souls. Sometimes, they spotted him closing portals. But wherever he went, death followed.
Despite countless versions, no one could clearly recall him.
His presence alone marked him as a harbinger of misfortune.
And so, they gave him a name: Raven—the Raven of Misfortune.
But rumors fade without fuel.
Testimonies of those who encountered him vanished over a decade ago. What once felt undeniable became myth—forgotten tales scribbled in old records.
Now, more than ten years later, only fragments of those records remain. No one remembers the man.
And that very being, now—
“…Had an unpleasant dream.”
He stood alone, sealing a portal deep in a place rarely touched by humans.
[The guardian spirit ??? inquires about the dream.]
“A dream of when I first made my contract with Death.”
[…]
“Strange. A capable sorcerer like me doesn’t have pointless dreams… yet today, I can’t shake the feeling—like I’m about to have an unwanted guest.”
[The guardian spirit ??? urges you not to tempt fate with ominous words.]
“Well, so what?”
Raven chuckled softly as he drove his blade through the last monster’s skull.
“I didn’t say it was definite.”
With that, he methodically finished off the remaining creatures. Now came the tedious task—finding the portal’s core hidden within the monstrous corpse and destroying it.
‘A portal where the core’s swallowed by monsters…’
In a way, it was fortunate. Hunting through this wasteland was tiresome, but still better than carrying the core and fending off hordes of beasts indefinitely.
That’s why people usually tackled portals in groups. But now—where was the core?
Twirling the knife between his fingers, Raven cut into the body, searching.
“…And yet, I can’t shake this discomfort. Feels like something’s trailing me… Something unknown.”
[The guardian spirit ??? assures you—no one’s following.]
“That’s not what I meant. It feels like… my past is creeping up behind me.”
Could someone be thinking of me?
Unlikely. After all these years, surely no one remembers. Maybe they stumbled on a record, poked around out of curiosity.
That faint sensation had always been there—but now…
‘It’s stronger than ever.’
His frown deepened, but he brushed off the unease, finally locating the core.
The stone pulsed with foul energy. As he raised his blade to destroy it, a message interrupted him.
[The guardian spirit ??? hesitantly asks—do you truly have no intention of seeing anyone again?]
Raven’s shoulders stiffened, his grip faltering. His glowing green eyes darted, veiled with unease, before lowering again.
If it were anyone else, he’d silence them—but the guardian spirit was different. They’d been with him long before immortality… He couldn’t afford arrogance here.
Avoiding their gaze, silence was his only defense.
But the guardian spirit wasn’t finished.
[The guardian spirit ??? reminds you—it’s been ten years since you severed all ties.]
“…I know.”
[They cautiously add—your already pitiful social skills have probably hit rock bottom.]
“What? What’s wrong with my social skills…?”
He grumbled, but the “cautiously” tacked onto such blunt words made it all the more irritating.
“And I told you—stop calling me ‘little one.’”
In the eyes of an ancient guardian spirit, maybe it made sense. But for someone over a hundred, nearing two centuries? It was maddeningly inappropriate.
[The guardian spirit ??? insists—you’re dodging the point.]
“…”
Raven fell silent.
The truth clawed at him—made worse by his refusal to face it. The absence of more messages weighed heavier than words.
Finally, after a long pause, he whispered:
“…They’ll forget me again.”
[…]
His bright, glowing eyes dimmed—vivid yet void of life—as they fell to the blood-stained earth.
“And even if I stay near them, clinging to visibility… if it happens again…”
He lacked the strength to endure betrayal twice.
It was easier to have no bonds at all.
[…]
The guardian spirit sent no more messages—there was nothing left to say.
Sighing, Raven rubbed his eyes, turning back to the task at hand—closing the portal.
But before he could finish, an unfamiliar voice interrupted.
“You can’t live like this forever.”
“…!”
“For both of us.”
It wasn’t his voice. Nor the familiar tone of the guardian spirit.
It was cold. Unmistakable.
Raven bolted upright, blade in hand, scanning the shadows. A heavy, suffocating chill swept over him—the green in his eyes flickering like a dying flame, fading toward gray.
Despite his blurred vision, he found the source.
“I knew dreaming of the past wasn’t coincidence…”
Caw, caw!
A lone crow cried out, deepening the eerie stillness.
A dry, humorless laugh escaped him.
“So… I have a visitor.”
“…”
“It’s been a while.”
Raven smirked, spitting the name like venom.
“…Death.”
What business brings Death so deep into the abyss?
“At the very least, you could’ve waited ‘til I left the portal. Your timing is as awful as ever.”
“You think I care about timing?”
“What if monsters come?”
“You’ll kill them.”
“…And who’ll do that, exactly?”
“You.”
…Hah.
Such charming words.
Rolling his eyes, Raven dropped the knife—it plunged into the corpse at his feet.
Expression blank, he carved into the beast’s flesh, mind churning.
‘…I can’t let this drag on.’
Even within the portal, nerves frayed dangerously thin.
The abyss, Death’s oppressive energy, this encounter—everything gnawed at his composure.
He couldn’t afford a mistake now. Not in front of Death.
Retrieving a magic stone from the corpse, Raven shifted the topic with feigned calm:
“This isn’t another ‘job,’ is it? You could’ve sent a crow.”
“You know perfectly well—it’s not that.”
“…”
“Ten years.”
Death’s voice was flat as stone.
“Ten years you’ve wasted—your life indefinitely extended, yet hollow.”
“Hollow? That’s harsh. I’ve honored the contract.”
Death’s cold words met Raven’s quiet defiance—sharp, mocking.
“Did I violate the ‘contract’ somehow?”
Why?
With a sardonic grin, Raven tilted his head, blood-stained fingers tracing the black collar tight around his neck, smearing crimson in their wake.
“Are you so insecure you needed to leash me like a stray dog?”