Six years.
That's how long Skei had been hiding in the back alleys, surviving on scraps and leftovers. Every day was a struggle, and all he really wanted was a simple taste of fresh food.
But he couldn't risk it—not with the Association hunting for people like him, and the endless trouble that came with being noticed. So he stayed hidden, watching the world pass him by.
He saw the pain around him—people beaten and bullied just for a single piece of food. It was a harsh reality, but Skei had no choice but to keep his head down.
He was a Wanderer, one of those hunters who drifted through the world without any grand purpose, just trying to survive in the shadows.
"Man, I'm so bored of this". The thought hit him hard.
He toyed with the idea of sneaking into the city to steal some food, but the risk was too high. The Association's dogs were everywhere, and getting caught meant certain death. Instead, he made a decision—he'd hunt.
He flew deep into the most dangerous parts of the wild, searching for a bull monster. When he finally found one, he held back his strength, careful not to crush it outright.
With steady hands, he notched an arrow, aimed, and fired. The arrow flew true, striking the bull's head from a hundred meters away.
Skei approached the fallen beast, dragging it into a ruined building. As he cooked the meat, he watched a group of four hunters battling a fierce lizardman.
The monster was tough, barely wounded by their attacks. The hunters were exhausted, their movements slowing, but they refused to give up.
The team was made up of a swordsman, a tank, a healer, and a bowman. They fought together, the tank holding the monster's attention with a massive shield. After an hour of grueling battle, they finally brought it down.
They celebrated, unaware of the danger lurking nearby in Zone 4, where monsters roamed freely.
Suddenly, a frying mantis appeared out of nowhere. In a flash, it slashed through the healer and the mage, leaving the group frozen in shock and fear.
The healer's scream echoed as the mage's blood splattered across them. The mantis attacked again, but the tank managed to block the blow.
The swordsman countered, only to have his sword shattered.
Despair settled over them like a heavy fog. Is this how it ends? the swordsman thought, heart pounding.
Then, without warning, a flash of light erupted from the ruined building. A tiny stone pebble flew through the air, striking the mantis's head and blowing it apart in an instant.
Skei sat quietly inside, flicking the pebble with calm precision before disappearing without a trace.
The swordsman, Wesley, stared in disbelief at the spot where the pebble had come from. He bowed his head in gratitude, but when he looked back, Skei was already gone.