"He's really alive—man, how did that stupid monster escape from us?"
"I honestly don't know. It's like it suddenly sensed something strange and changed its behavior. Luckily for this kid, we were nearby."
Another person asked:
— "Is he branded?"
— "It seems so. The hand that was cut off regenerated. Honestly, this guy has unbelievable luck—the hand that was severed was the one with the mark, not the other."
Another man spoke:
— "What should we do with him now? He doesn't even have an identity or anything that could lead us to his village or kingdom."
— "Rako, carry the boy. He's coming with us. I don't know his story or how he ended up in this forest, but it doesn't matter. Pick him up, let's return to the kingdom."
— "Hansu, bring that monster with you. It's a mutant, so it'll fetch a high price. Judging by the color of its eyes and body, it's clearly high-ranking—after all, the three of us had to combine our strength just to defeat it."
— "Understood, Captain…" Hansu replied.
The captain looked at the boy in astonishment. How could someone like him end up here in the first place? This was one of the three most dangerous forests: the Shrine of Beasts.
He sighed softly.
— "It doesn't matter. I'll learn everything about him once he wakes up."
Inside our hero's unconscious mind:
Damn it… I'm back in that dark place again. I really don't know—am I alive or dead?
That voice kept trying to speak, but why—despite how loud it was—I couldn't hear a single word?
I don't care. I just want to know what my fate is.
I remembered… what was that mark on my hand?
It looked like a strange mark shaped like a shattered hourglass. But what was it? And why would I get a mark like that in the first place?
Darkness is truly dangerous—it nearly drives me insane. I had only been there for a few minutes… or maybe half an hour… What is this? My body feels like it's moving?
Finally… I see light.
Our hero reached out to grasp that light—and finally woke up, finding himself in a strange room. It wasn't small, nor was it large. It looked like a medical infirmary, yet incredibly luxurious.
The walls were white, adorned with beautiful carvings of a golden chalice, as if it were a cure for any disease. The bed was extremely comfortable, and a grand glass window allowed golden sunlight and a gentle breeze to flow inside. Numerous shelves filled with various medicines lined the room. To me, the place seemed to glow with pure whiteness.
Is this heaven?
Wait… why do I know all of this despite not remembering anything?
I truly don't recall seeing any of these places in my memories.
I fell back into my thoughts once more—but… wait!
A scream of shock.
How is my arm back in place?
I'm certain it was severed—how could this possibly happen, by the heavens?!
The sound of a door opening.
— "Oh, you've finally woken up. You were unconscious for two weeks."
— "What?!"
Two weeks? How? It felt like I hadn't spent much time in that place at all! I asked in disbelief within my mind.
— "It seems you truly know very little. My name is Grace, captain of the Storm Unit. I and two members of my squad were hunting a certain monster that came out of the forest and attacked a nearby village, so we went there to kill it."
— "But then I found you lying there. You had lost a lot of blood, but I'm relieved to see you safe now. Still… why do you look so shocked? Did something happen?"
I looked at the man before me—his expression serious yet kind, with blond hair, blue eyes, and elegant clothing befitting a noble.
— "First of all, I want to thank you for saving my life. I'll consider it a debt I'll repay someday."
— "But… something truly strange happened. I'm scared and shocked because of it."
— "What is it?" Grace asked.
— "The monster cut off my arm. I felt the pain and passed out because of it, but… my arm is back, and I don't know how that happened. Did you do this?"
Grace laughed with faint sarcasm.
— "How can you not know about your arm regenerating when you're branded?"
— "Branded? What is that?"
Grace looked at me as if stunned by an unbelievable answer.
— "Did you just say something strange?"
— "It seems you truly don't know who the Branded are."
— "Boy… what is the mark on your arm?"
I looked down, only to see that the hourglass—once cracked and broken—seemed less damaged now…
—or as if it had shrunk.