The mortal was completely surrounded.The client of the group stepped forward with a cold smile, his eyes filled with killing intent.
"At last, we got you. How could I let such an opportunity slip from my grasp?"
He slowly closed the distance. The mortal opened his mouth to beg, but—
A hand clamped around his throat. The grip tightened. His legs kicked weakly, tears streamed down his cheeks. As the light in his eyes dimmed, his mind wandered back to the life he once had.
His name was Roth. A simple mortal. A farmer who barely made a living. His wife, Emma, worked as a servant in a wealthy household.
Life was hard, but her presence had always been his comfort. She was everything to him.
Then the change began. Their income improved, yet the distance between them grew. Cold words. Forced smiles. Nights spent away.
And then, the day his life broke apart.
He came home and found Emma there with a muscular element bearer. She wore a beautifully crafted dress—silk embroidered with silver threads and tiny gemstones that shimmered in the lamplight. A garment far too luxurious for a servant… or the wife of a poor farmer. The scent of rich food and aged wine filled the room.
He understood instantly.
Emma was with another man.
She looked at him—surprised for a moment—then calm again.
"With Master, I can finally live the life I deserve. A life impossible with you," she said. "He can provide everything you couldn't."
Her gaze was icy as she turned away. She poured wine for the element bearer with a delighted smile—one Roth had never seen directed at him.
His fists shook. His teeth gritted. But what power did he have? What could a weak man do?
Nothing.
He fled. Anger and humiliation burned inside him.
Later, the wealthy client decided to make Emma his mistress. But for that, Roth needed to vanish. So a group was formed to hunt him down.
Two years passed in fear and exhaustion. Roth ran from place to place like prey. Hatred was all that kept him moving.
One night, near a forest path, they found him again.
He escaped into the forest by luck alone, through an old underground tunnel made by elemental beasts. A dangerous place… but he had no choice.
He wandered through the forest with only one hope left—leave Floating Cloud City. Start over somewhere else. But hope was not enough.
Now, with only a few breaths left, he wanted to run again. Away from them. Away from Emma. Away from the struggles of life!
His consciousness faded. His body slackened.
Roth was dead.
The client released his neck and let the body fall. Lifeless eyes stared upward. No movement. No strength.
A long moment passed. Then the group sighed in relief. Their task was complete. They packed their belongings and left without a backward glance. To them, the story was over.
But the forest held its breath.
When silence returned, footsteps approached.
The mysterious man stood before the corpse, expression unreadable.
"Without strength, such an end is inevitable," he muttered.
"The world does not pity the powerless. "
He drew a knife. A cold light flickered in his eyes.
He cut away his ears and nose.
Then he slid the blade along each side of his face—from forehead to chin. His fingers hooked into the cuts.
And he pulled.
Blood splashed to the ground. His once handsome face disappeared—replaced by bare bone and pale strands of hair.
Next, a cut from front to back along his head. He peeled away the scalp as if it were cloth.
More cuts. More skin removed. Not a single sound escaped him.
When all his skin was gone, he stepped toward Roth's corpse. His fingers interlocked with the dead man's hands.
Their bodies connected—
And then his figure disintegrated into a pool of blood, spreading under Roth.
The blood soaked into the corpse. Slowly, fully, as if being consumed.
Then—
Roth's "corpse" stood up.
He looked down at his hands and flexed the unfamiliar fingers, adjusting to the new flesh and shape. A faint smirk touched his lips.
"Roth's life ended tonight."
He raised his head, gaze sharp, taking his first step forward with a new identity.
"But his face… will walk the world once more."