The southern forest of Taranach felt different from the moment Hax stepped into it.
The trees here were older. Their roots sprawled across the ground like the veins of the earth itself. Sunlight struggled to pierce the dense canopy, leaving a constant twilight —like an eternal dusk.
Hax walked alone.
In his hand, the A-Rank quest scroll was still clenched. But he hadn't opened it for a while now.
Because what lay ahead... didn't match the quest description.
Not a monster's lair.
Not a crude wooden fortress.
Not a pile of bones and remains of victims.
But...
a field.
A small field with irregular crops. A few withered corn stalks. Half-ripened vegetables. And in the corner of the field, a pile of monster bones —not human bones —buried neatly.
Hax stopped.
In front of him stood several wooden huts with straw roofs. Not tall. Not sturdy. But enough to shelter from the rain.
There was a remnant of a campfire in the center of the area. Still warm ash. A few half-burnt pieces of wood.
And around the campfire...
footprints.
Large footprints. Three toes. Blunt claws.
Troll footprints.
But...
no signs of violence.
No blood.
No human remains.
Hax stood in the middle of the area.
"..."
He lowered his quest scroll.
Then the System activated.
[System Analysis:]
[Troll Settlement]
[Population: 47 Trolls]
[Hostility: Low]
[Human Attack Record: 0]
[Current Status: Starvation]
Hax fell silent.
Starvation.
The monsters that were supposed to attack humans... were starving.
He walked further.
The troll huts grew closer.
Hax could see movement behind the animal hide curtains hanging over the doorways. Low whispers. The sound of children —sounds he had never heard from trolls before.
Then...
"Stop."
The voice was heavy. Old. And it spoke in the human tongue.
Hax stopped.
From behind the largest hut, a troll emerged.
His body was smaller than an average troll —but his posture still towered twice the height of a human. His skin was dark gray, covered in scars across his entire body. His eyes —pale yellow —watched Hax carefully.
Not with hatred.
But with fear.
"You... a hunter sent by humans?"
Hax looked at him.
"No."
The old troll fell silent.
"Then why are you here?"
"I accepted a quest. About troll attacks on the merchant route."
The old troll lowered his head.
"..."
"Kill us if you came for the reward."
Hax didn't move.
"You expect death?"
The old troll raised his head. His eyes —pale yellow —looked at Hax with a sadness unusual for a monster.
"Humans always bring swords when they see monsters."
Hax answered flatly.
"And monsters always attack humans."
The old troll fell silent.
Then he said quietly,
"Then perhaps both sides are wrong."
Hax didn't answer.
But behind his helmet, something stirred.
Not emotion.
But recognition.
He had once been on the side of "monsters." He had once been a creature hunted simply for existing.
He understood.
"I didn't come to kill," Hax said finally. "I came to investigate."
The old troll stared at him for a long time.
Then he sighed.
"...I am Gorath. Leader of this village."
"You may enter."
Inside the Troll Village
The village was small. Only about a dozen huts. But Hax could see everything clearly from the highest point in the center of the village.
Troll children —smaller, thinner —ran between the huts. They looked at Hax with curiosity, not fear. Some even smiled.
Hax noted that.
The troll children aren't afraid of me.
Because they've never seen a human who didn't attack them.
Gorath led Hax to a hut larger than the others. Inside, there was a simple map drawn on animal hide —showing the forest paths, rivers, and areas safe for foraging.
"We don't attack humans," Gorath said.
Hax looked at the map.
"But the reports say otherwise."
"The reports are wrong."
"Evidence?"
Gorath sighed.
"You saw the wagons that were raided?"
"Yes."
"Did you see any wounds on the wagons?"
Hax remembered the report he had read. "No clear wounds. The wagons were destroyed, but no one was killed."
"That's because it wasn't us who destroyed them."
Gorath pointed to a spot on the map —an area north of their village.
"There's something there. Something that forces us to steal food."
Hax looked at the spot.
"Force?"
"Yes."
Gorath raised his left arm.
On his gray skin, there was a mark.
A symbol.
A symbol Hax recognized.
And he could also feel the cursed mana within it.
"We don't want to attack humans. But if we don't steal food... we'll starve."
Gorath lowered his arm.
"And if we don't obey... this symbol will kill us."
Hax stared at the symbol.
He touched it.
[System Analysis:]
[Detected Curse]
[Type: Domination Magic]
[Source: Unknown]
[Similarity Detected]
[Item Database Match: 87%]
[Possible Origin: Artifact — Staff of Domination]
Hax froze for a moment.
"Impossible."
That artifact...
should have been just an item.
An object that existed in his game's database.
Hax knew that item.
Staff of Domination.
In the game he created, that staff was a rare artifact that could only be used by a master necromancer.
Its function was simple: control living creatures around its user.
But there was one detail that made it dangerous.
He had never finished designing it.
He had left it as an incomplete item.
And now...
someone in this world had used it.
"Why is a game item also appearing in this world?"
Gorath stared at him.
"What?"
Hax didn't answer.
But behind his helmet, his thoughts raced.
"I'll investigate this," Hax said finally. "But for now, don't attack humans. I'll make sure you get food."
Gorath stared at him with wide eyes.
"You... will help us?"
"You don't attack humans. You don't deserve to be punished for starvation."
Hax turned.
"I'll be back."
He walked out of the hut.
Behind him, Gorath and the other trolls stared at his back with expressions they couldn't believe.
Behind the trees, Oscar followed Hax from a distance.
He couldn't believe it.
He followed Hax out of curiosity —because he wanted to know who the man in black armor really was.
But what he saw...
changed everything.
Hax didn't kill trolls.
Hax talked to trolls.
Like humans.
Like equals.
Oscar lowered his spyglass slowly.
"..."
He didn't know what to think.
He thought Hax was a threat. Maybe a killer. Maybe someone dangerous.
But dangerous people don't help monsters.
Or perhaps that's exactly what a dangerous man would do?
Oscar gripped his notebook tightly.
"I should report this," he murmured quietly.
But...
for the first time, he hesitated.
Was reporting Hax the right decision?
Or would he be reporting someone who was actually trying to help?
He closed his notebook.
"..."
"Later," he said finally.
"I'll find out for myself."
---
Meanwhile, at the palace...
Faolan read the latest report from his spies.
"A-Rank quest complete."
"Troll settlement found."
"No massacre."
"Target alive."
"Hax spoke with trolls."
"He didn't kill them."
Faolan lowered the paper.
He smiled.
"..."
His master once said:
"True strength is not the ability to destroy enemies."
"But the ability to choose when not to destroy."
Faolan stared at the katana in front of him.
He had waited a long time.
He had observed from a distance.
But now...
it was time to meet.
"Grail," he called.
Grail Silverhart stepped in.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Prepare my horse."
Grail raised an eyebrow. "Where will Your Highness go?"
Faolan picked up the katana.
"To meet someone."
He walked out of the room.
Behind him, Grail watched the prince's back with a careful expression.
"Finally," he murmured quietly.
"The prince is making his move."
---
Hax stood on a small hill.
Below him, the troll village looked peaceful. Campfires burned. Troll children played. Gorath sat in front of his hut, staring at the stars.
Hax noted everything.
"..."
He took out the symbol from his Inventory —the same symbol that was on Gorath's arm.
He stared at it deeply.
Someone was using this magic.
Whatever it was...
it wasn't a coincidence.
Hax stored the symbol away.
"Mimic."
The shadow behind him moved.
It was one of Mimic's abilities —to release several shadows as places for him to appear and shift between.
Mimic emerged —his face still smiling.
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
"La-."
He stopped.
Mimic tilted his head.
"Your Majesty?"
"..."
Hax was silent for a few seconds.
Lately, he had been calling Mimic far too often for various tasks.
Watching Faolan.
Gathering information about the kingdom.
Investigating the source of the strange magic.
Now looking for the source of the troll curse.
If he still had a human body, perhaps he would feel a little guilty.
But he no longer had a heart that could beat.
So all that remained was...
a calculation of efficiency.
Hax looked at Mimic.
"Do you feel that your workload has increased?"
Mimic fell silent.
That question clearly caught him off guard.
Then...
he smiled.
"Did Your Majesty just ask about the condition of his subordinate?"
"..."
"Interesting."
"That's not an answer."
Mimic covered his mouth, suppressing a laugh.
"Then, the official answer..."
He bowed slightly.
"As Your Majesty's servant, my duty is to carry out Your Majesty's orders."
He paused.
"But as someone who has known Your Majesty for thousands of years..."
His smile widened.
"I think Your Majesty is becoming a better master."
Hax stared at him without expression.
"That sounds inefficient."
"But it's true."
"..."
Hax ignored him.
"Mimic."
Hax handed over the curse symbol.
"Identify this."
Mimic took the symbol.
He turned it over.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
Then he shrugged.
"Don't know."
Hax fell silent.
"..."
Mimic smiled.
"Sorry, Your Majesty. I'm good at infiltrating places I'm not supposed to enter."
He tapped his head.
"But understanding strange objects like this isn't my specialty."
Hax looked at him.
"At least you realize that."
"Of course."
Mimic returned the symbol.
"I know my limits."
He smiled.
"I can find who owns this object."
"But I can't explain what it is."
---
The sun was beginning to set when Faolan reached the edge of the southern forest.
He brought no troops.
No guards.
Only Grail behind him —keeping his distance, like a faithful shadow.
Faolan stopped at the forest's edge.
Before him, the troll village was visible from afar. Campfires burned. Troll children ran around. Gorath sat in front of his hut, staring at the twilight sky.
And on a small hill beside the village...
a black figure stood motionless.
Not moving.
Not speaking.
Just watching.
Faolan smiled faintly.
"He already knows I'm coming."
Grail, from behind, nodded quietly.
"It seems so, Your Highness."
Faolan began walking up the slope without haste.
Each step was clear among the evening breeze.
Behind him, Grail followed in silence.
His right hand slowly rested on the sword at his waist.
Not to attack.
Just to be ready.
At the top of the hill, Hax hadn't moved at all.
However...
the shadow behind him suddenly rippled.
Like the surface of water touched by a small stone.
A black-haired man slowly emerged from within that shadow.
Mimic.
He stood a few steps behind Hax.
His smile was still relaxed as always.
But his eyes were now watching Grail without blinking.
"..."
Grail immediately noticed the man's presence.
Fast.
Too fast.
Just a moment ago, there was no one behind Hax.
His fingers unconsciously gripped the sword hilt a little tighter.
Mimic's smile widened.
"Relax."
Grail remained silent.
His gaze never left Mimic.
"...I didn't even notice when he appeared."
Faolan raised one hand.
"Grail."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Lower your guard."
Grail hesitated for a moment.
"..."
Then he released the sword hilt.
On the other side, Hax spoke without turning.
"Mimic."
"Yes, Your Majesty?"
"You too."
Mimic let out a long sigh.
"Very well."
"I'm not planning to cause any trouble either."
Even so...
he didn't stop smiling.
The atmosphere on the hill fell silent.
Four people.
Four pairs of eyes.
No one was truly off guard.
Only after a few seconds...
Faolan stepped forward once more.
"I've wanted to meet you for a long time," Faolan said.
"I know," Hax replied.
Faolan raised an eyebrow. "You know?"
"You sent spies to the guild. You read the reports about me. You decided to come here yourself."
Faolan fell silent. Then he smiled.
"You're right. I've been watching you."
"I've been watching you too," said Hax.
Faolan chuckled softly.
"Seems like we're the same."
"No. We're not the same."
Faolan didn't seem offended. Instead, he looked intrigued.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I know what you're looking for."
"..."
"You're looking for answers. About your master. About your past. About something you can't explain."
Faolan fell silent. His eyes studied Hax carefully.
"You're right," he said finally. "I'm looking for answers. And I think..." He paused. "...you might have them."
Faolan extended his hand.
In his hand, a short sword rested quietly.
Its blade was curved —unlike the straight swords commonly used by knights in this kingdom.
Hax stared at it.
For a moment, he didn't move.
Then, unconsciously, the word escaped his lips.
"...Katana?"
Faolan froze.
His eyes widened.
"How do you know its name?"
His voice sounded different —not as calm as before. There was a tremor in it. Hope? Surprise?
Hax nodded slowly.
"I've seen it before. At the place I came from."
Mimic glanced at the sword briefly.
"Hm?"
"A curved sword."
"First time I've seen that shape."
Grail also looked at Mimic.
"Same here."
Faolan gently stroked the scabbard.
"Then... do you know my master?"
Hax was silent.
"..."
"No."
Faolan stared at him.
"I don't know your master," Hax said. "But I know that sword."
Faolan fell silent.
The hope in his eyes dimmed slightly.
But it didn't fade completely.
"You... really don't know him?"
"No."
"But you know the sword?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Hax didn't answer immediately.
He looked at the katana —its curved shape, its wrapped hilt, its thin and sharp blade.
"Because in my homeland... that object isn't rare," he said finally.
Faolan fell silent.
Then he smiled faintly.
"So... it's just an ordinary sword?"
He sheathed the sword again.
"I wonder how strong the people in that country are."
Hax raised his head. "Your master came from a place that doesn't exist in this world."
Faolan wasn't surprised. He just smiled faintly.
"I suspected as much. He never said where he came from. But the way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he saw the world..." He paused. "Everything was foreign."
Hax didn't answer.
Faolan continued.
"He said: 'If you meet someone stronger than me, don't fight them. Ask for their help.' I never understood what he meant. Until now."
Hax was silent.
But behind his helmet, something stirred.
Not emotion.
But recognition.
Those words...
were too precise.
Too familiar.
As if the one who spoke them had prepared Faolan to meet someone like Hax.
"Your master..." Hax said quietly.
"Yes?"
"...I wouldn't assume he's dead."
Faolan fell silent. For the first time, his expression changed —from calm to fragile.
"I've wondered about that for years. But I was never sure."
"But there's something more important."
He looked toward the troll village below.
Faolan followed his gaze.
"What?"
"That village didn't attack humans of their own will."
Faolan frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"There's a curse on them. Domination magic. Someone is forcing them to steal food."
Faolan fell silent.
"If that's true... then the kingdom's reports have been wrong all along."
His eyes narrowed.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm not asking you to believe me."
"Come and see for yourself."
Hax raised his hand —showing the symbol he had copied from Gorath's arm.
"This is the mark of the curse. I don't know who did it yet. But I'll find out."
Faolan stared at the symbol —long, as if trying to remember something.
"..."
"I've never seen it before," he said finally.
"But..."
He looked at Hax.
"...if you find who did it..."
"I'll tell you."
Faolan smiled faintly.
"Then... we might be working together."
Hax didn't answer.
He looked toward the troll village below the hill.
Campfires began to light up one by one.
Troll children laughed softly as they ran around.
Their voices carried on the evening wind.
"..."
"I don't work with kingdoms."
Faolan didn't seem offended.
"Then who do you work for?"
Hax stared at him.
"People."
"People who share my objective."
Faolan smiled faintly.
"That's more than enough."
Soon after, he turned.
"I won't interfere with your investigation."
"But if you need my help..."
"...just say so."
Hax only nodded quietly.
Faolan began walking down the hill.
Grail followed him.
Soon, both of them disappeared behind the trees.
--
A few moments after they left...
the bushes on the other side of the hill rustled softly.
A man emerged slowly.
Oscar.
He held his notebook tightly.
His face was filled with confusion.
"..."
He had just seen everything.
The Second Prince of the Taranach Kingdom.
Talking to a foreign adventurer.
Without guards.
Without threats.
As if they had known each other for a long time.
Oscar opened his notebook.
His hand paused for a moment before he began to write.
Secret meeting.
Location: Southern Forest.
Parties involved: Prince Faolan Cian Taranach and Hax.
The tip of his pen stopped moving.
"..."
He didn't know what to write after that.
Was Hax a threat?
Or was he...
someone trying to save the kingdom?
Oscar closed his notebook slowly.
"If I report this..."
"...things could change."
He looked toward where Hax had stood.
But...
the hill was empty.
Hax.
Mimic.
Both had vanished without a sound.
Oscar let out a long sigh.
"Who exactly are you two...?"
The evening wind blew through the trees again.
No one answered.
Only the soft rustling of leaves.