Garth did not wait for an answer to his question.

  He steeled his nerves and put himself to work. Getting on the floor, he proceeded to do push-ups.

  The sooner he became stronger, the better.

  Before he could utilize his knowledge of potions to accelerate his growth, it would take time. And before he could cultivate, that would take even longer.

  So, for now, he did what he could.

  As he completed his eighth push-up, he took note of the lack of flesh separating his skin from his bones. He immediately ignored it and continued his push-ups.

  When the sky began to brighten, he left home, not waiting for the sun to fully rise.

  He raced through the city until he reached a colossal building—one that stood apart from the rest.

  Unlike the surrounding structures, which were built from wood and stone, this one was forged entirely from steel. A massive statue of a warrior wielding a giant sword stood atop its peak.

  Garth dashed to the enormous front doors.

  Bold letters at the top spelled out: Southern District Raid Guild.

  Inside, the sheer size of the hall matched the exterior. The space was vast and impressive, but at this hour—six in the morning—it was nearly empty.

  During busier times, armored Venators, healers, and a few Elcanas would be roaming the halls. But at this moment, only guild workers were present.

  Ignoring the reception desk, Garth headed straight for the notice board on the far right. His eyes scanned the pinned requests until they landed on one.

  "Yes."

  The note read:

  [Six Sun Sparrow Void.]

  At the bottom of the request, there was a list of raiding party roles—most still unchecked, except for one.

  [Raid Leader]

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  Apparently, he wasn't the only one up this early.

  Garth searched for the section labeled [Valet] and marked it without hesitation.

  A long table beneath the board held numerous badges. He picked up the one he needed and made his way to the designated waiting room.

  Inside, a Venator sat on a sofa, neither smiling nor frowning, waiting expectantly.

  He was dressed for battle, armor and all. A sheathed sword leaned against the sofa beside him, clearly his. The only contrast from his battle set was the scarf wrapped around his neck.

  Garth studied the man, wondering if they had ever crossed paths before.

  His features didn't seem familiar.

  Garth had met countless people in his past life, yet he was sure this man was not among them.

  He appeared to be in his mid-forties, maybe pushing fifty. But his body disagreed with that assumption.

  His green eyes were sharp, untouched by wrinkles. His hair and neatly trimmed beard radiated life, their brown hue vibrant and rich.

  Physically, he could rival any freshly trained Venator straight out of the academy. He wasn't overly bulky, but his strength was evident by the aura he radiated.

  What gave away his age, however, was his gaze.

  Garth had seen those eyes before—eyes that had witnessed too many battles, too much bloodshed. The weight of fallen comrades, loved ones, and endless pain reflected in them.

  Sadness washed over Garth.

  Realizing he had been staring too long, he turned away.

  "Take a seat."

  The man's voice was strong yet gentle.

  Garth turned back to him. His expression remained neutral, neither hostile nor particularly inviting.

  "Thank you." Garth walked over to a sofa in the left corner of the small room and sat down. "My name is Garth. I'll be the Valet for this raid." He held up his badge, marked with a V.

  "I am Kareous. I will be the Raid Leader."

  Unlike Garth, he didn't bother displaying his badge, which should have borne an R.

  "Yeah, I saw on the notice board." Garth settled into his seat. "What's your Wielding?"

  "Lightning."

  "A powerful one."

  "And yours?"

  "Oh… I don't have one yet."

  For the first time, an expression crossed Kareous' face—one of genuine surprise.

  He quickly masked it, turning his head away. "Is that so." He did not press further.

  Instead, he leaned back into his seat.

  Garth had nothing else to ask, so he did the same.

  They sat in silence, waiting.

  The only thing that caught Garth's attention was the sudden bulging of Kareous' neck arteries.

  They darkened momentarily as a violent cough wracked his body.

  Garth's expression fell.

  He recognized this symptom. It was the sign of a dangerous ailment.

  Kareous didn't have long to live.

  The scarf… it made sense now. It was likely meant to conceal the condition.

  Minutes passed. Then an hour.

  Finally, their party was complete.

  Kareous stood and filed the necessary documents with the receptionist. Once done, she handed Garth two Space Rings.

  With everything settled, they exited the Southern District Raid Guild and boarded a carriage bound for their destination.

  The ride took no more than thirty minutes.

  During the journey, Garth studied the information on the Void they were about to raid.

  His heart lifted when he realized it was one he still remembered how to exploit.

  Back in his early years, he had memorized countless dungeons. But as he became an Epic, he had relied solely on brute strength, no longer needing to strategize against weaker Voids.

  Now, he regretted it.

  He wished he had remembered more than just ten.

  Garth smacked himself on the head at the realization.

  Every party member turned, raising their brows.

  He forced a laugh. "Sorry, just a mosquito. Those things really annoy me."

  They didn't question further, returning their focus to the raid.

  The carriage stopped.

  They stepped out and approached their destination—a glowing pool devoid of vegetation around its vicinity.

  As Garth drew closer, he took in the sight before him.

  The pool was vast and eerie, its surface swirling in slow, hypnotic motion. The deep blue color of the vortex indicated its rank—Sparrow.

  Inside, white orbs floated in a circular motion.

  He counted them.

  Six.

  Just like the documentation had stated.

  Seeing the Void up close for the first time since his reincarnation sent a chill down his spine.

  The aura it radiated was suffocating, unnatural.

  His body trembled.

  He had faced worse horrors in his lifetime, but his weak flesh refused to be as strong as his spirit.

  Garth clenched his fists.

  He forced his fears aside and steeled his resolve.

  This was only the beginning.