Faint footprints expanded across the damp, earthy ground.  

One set was clearly from boots, another slightly smaller, and a third appeared to be the bare footprints of a young girl.

Explorer Wardlin noted that beyond these faint traces, he could hear the distant echoes of screams—repeated and chilling.  

He followed the trail of footprints forward.  

And then, before him…  

“Hehehe…kehh…”  

*Whoosh*  

*Thud*  

He came upon the burnt remains of mysterious creatures and crushed guardians, each at least twenty feet tall, lying beneath a massive boulder, lifeless.  

“What… what on earth is this…”  

Wardlin shuddered as he looked around, sensing faint traces of dark energy lingering in the air. He began to question what he was tracking and where it had led him.  

---

Even after accepting the quest, Keyal couldn’t shake a feeling of anxiety.  

There was a reasonable level of concern, of course. But more than that, he worried about unexpected complications arising like before.  

Though this time, it wasn’t about payment or bounty—it was more about managing the… support.  

Keyal’s usual calm demeanor began to crack as he observed the scene around him.  

*Swish!*  

*Thud!*  

Right before him, two women were mowing down monsters with brutal efficiency.  

He didn’t need to wield dark energy or even lift a finger.  

All he had to do was twist the necks of the small fry who dared to escape the onslaught.  

And even if he chose not to act or hesitated for a moment, Elena and Rivera would swoop in and obliterate the enemy before him.  

“Touch my father, and I’ll kill you.”  
“Anyone who dares to harm even a hair on my master will die.”  

The threats they issued were laced with cold finality, sending any creature that crossed their paths into immediate terror. One by one, the creatures tried to flee, only to meet horrific fates.  

The only “crime” these monsters committed was being in Keyal’s line of sight, which led them to face a merciless wrath far worse than death itself.  

For the first time, he almost felt sorry for the monsters.  

Now it was a free-for-all, and the monsters—driven mad by fear—charged at Elena in desperation.  

And as expected…  

“Keeeekaaaahhh!!!”  
“Aaaaaargh!!”  

They fell, soaked in blood, their organs spilling from their bodies in grotesque displays that were worse than any horror film.  

No, it was even worse. Films could rely on props and CGI, but this—this was raw, brutal reality.  

The goblins he’d dealt with before looked downright merciful compared to this.  

The monsters with exposed entrails were the “fortunate” ones.  

One had his head twisted until his brain spilled out, pinned to a tree root as he bled to death.  

Another, near the edge, was sliced apart alive by a wind spirit, reduced to dust… no, down to atomic particles.  

The sight was nauseating, a scene that churned the stomach.  

If put another way, it was simply revolting.  

Who was at fault—Elena and Rivera?  

No, not them.  

The hapless dead lying sprawled on the ground.  

“Well… zombies and skeletons were once humans, so I guess calling them the ‘dead’ makes sense…”  

---

It was time to calculate the reward.  

“……”  

Silently, Keyal and his party presented the spoils to the attendant, who began tallying everything.  

Two hundred skeletons, twenty forest undead, and fifteen zombies.  

The numbers alone would have been impressive.  

This was an amount that even a party of mid-tier adventurers would struggle to handle.  

A skeleton horde could be overwhelming in sheer numbers, though bringing along a competent mage could simplify the task.  

Forest undead, while capable of using magic, were manageable with a quick-footed party member like an assassin.  

Zombies… well, let’s not even go there.  

The attendant’s amazement, however, stemmed from the other names on the list:  

Two Undead Kings, three Guardian Lieutenants, and one Shaman of the Overgrown Forest.  

“…And you… took them all down in less than half a day?”  

“Yes.”  

“All… all three of you?”  

“Yes.”  

Rivera, who was attached to Keyal’s side, nodded, as did Elena, who stood next to him with her arm linked through his.  

The attendant’s eyes widened as he scanned their bodies.  

Not only did they return, but they bore no signs of injury—neither severe nor minor.  

“What… this… I mean…”  

They had come back completely unscathed, which was unsettling in itself.  

Swallowing nervously, the attendant began recording the details.  

*Undead Kings.* Each one was at least three meters tall, wielding a sword forged from its own flesh and bones, capable of decimating entire areas with a single swing.  

Seasoned adventurers and lifelong veterans alike feared such monsters. Why? Because…  

Undead Kings were practically immortal. Any wound inflicted on them would rapidly heal, and their resilience to magic and curses was formidable unless faced by a high-level mage.  

Decapitate one, and it would simply regrow its head. Even on the brink of death, it would still regenerate.  

And that was just one Undead King.  

Guardian Lieutenants wielded advanced magic rivaling the most powerful mid-level mages.  

If two of them appeared in the heart of a city and faced no opposition, they could destroy it with ease, let alone a small village.  

And the Shaman of the Overgrown Forest?  

Simply put, a walking calamity.  

Adventurers struggled with even goblin shamans, but this shaman was something else entirely—a being whose mere footsteps caused the forest to tremble and the earth to quake.  

One strike of its staff could pummel a top-ranking adventurer party, as easily as a town guard might beat down a common street thug.  

There had never been a party in the world, even in the entire history of adventurer guilds, that had managed to bring back a Shaman’s corpse.  

The Shaman and Lord-class creatures were adversaries fit only for heroes, beings who could contend with non-human threats, those chosen by the gods themselves.  

It was a job reserved for the few, and no amount of training could elevate mere mortals to that level of power.  

Today, however, the Shaman had fallen. Not just any Shaman, but the Shaman of the Overgrown Forest.  

An extermination request that had sat idle for decades had been resolved in less than a day.  

This was the birth of a legendary party—the first to dethrone the king of the forest and turn it into a burial ground for monsters.  

The party known as “Edric.”  

“Wait… that name sounds… familiar…”  

---

The reward for slaying the Shaman was substantial.  

In an era where heroes were valued highly, only the kings and noble families of powerful duchies could afford the luxury of having a hero in their home.  

For commoners—or even most nobles—keeping a hero in their household was unthinkable.  

While stories of hero-slaying achievements were common, actually meeting a hero was rare.  

This was due in part to the game system of *TBG Heroes.*  

In *TBG Heroes,* heroes weren’t born—they were forged.  

Heroes could only gain their heroic powers by joining a guild, where a divine blessing would later grant them unique skills and traits.  

Stats would be boosted, and they could even gain special abilities.  

With a divine blessing, even humans could transform into beastfolk, and beastfolk could become human.  

So even if a hero served a small guild or a large kingdom, they would have, at some point, joined a guild.  

This led to one of the greatest fears among new guild leaders—the possibility of their heroes sneaking away.  

Without heroes, guilds could not flourish.  

A guild without a hero was like a blacksmith without a hammer or a guard without a sword.  

Some heroes received a blessing and then left their guilds, making hero management incredibly difficult.  

In *TBG Heroes,* heroes could only be made through a guild, and only one person could play on each server at a time.  

Since the game was single-player at its core, with no server, multiplayer was barely an option, making each world unique unto itself.  

This realization struck Keyal.  

“All the heroes in kingdoms and empires… they’re all…”  

Gripping the large bag of gold coins, Keyal’s expression hardened.  

“They’re our people.”  

The half-demon’s path was set.  

Now settled in this unfamiliar world, he vowed to find the heroes once again, to be a guiding light for them and bring back their smiles.  

A chill of guilt pricked his spine.  

The ability to achieve this had always been within reach—only money had held him back.  

“Next destination: the kingdom.”  

Having reached an inn, Keyal muttered this to himself as he began unpacking.