Garth watched helplessly as his team burned alive.

  They writhed in the flames, desperately trying to escape, but the Fire Wielder didn’t relent for a second. Within three heartbeats, the group stopped moving entirely.

  “Whoa! Incredible!” the Fire Wielder said, gesturing flamboyantly, a manic grin on his face.

  He turned to Garth, who stood frozen in place.

  “Wasn’t that a show. You like?”

  “What... what did you do?” Garth stammered.

  “Nothing I wasn’t paid to do,” the Fire Wielder replied as he advanced.

  “You... you were paid?”

  “It doesn’t really matter,” he said, stepping closer. “A secret is wasted on a dead man.”

  He grabbed Garth by the throat and lifted him off the ground.

  “I would’ve done away with you like the others, but I know you’re carrying more of those bombs. So...”

  Garth swung a vial of Bubonic Acid toward his face.

  “What’s this?” The Fire Wielder caught Garth’s hand mid-swing, holding it firmly in place. “Looks like some kind of acid.”

  He squeezed Garth’s hand, and Garth cried out in pain.

  “Ahhhh!”

  The vial slipped from Garth’s grasp and clattered to the ground. The Fire Wielder eyed it curiously.

  “What is this? I’ve never—”

  “Blessing,” Garth muttered.

  “Huh?”

  Garth kicked him in the face and leapt back—only to crumble upon landing.

  The Fire Wielder held his jaw, frowning. “Huh. It seems you’re stronger than I thought.”

  He grinned and let a blue aura seep out from his body.

  “Guess I’ll just have to get a little more serious.”

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  He charged.

  'Damn it. I can’t fight this guy. He’s far beyond me.'

  Garth reached into his bag and pulled out another vial. The Fire Wielder closed the distance and swung. Garth barely dodged the blow, but the next elbow caught him square in the jaw, slamming him into the ground.

  Before he could recover, the Fire Wielder punched him in the gut.

  “Ugh!”

  “I’d roast you now if it weren’t for those bombs,” he said, ripping Garth’s bag from his back.

  He began rummaging through it and raised a brow at the contents.

  “What are—?”

  Shatter.

  Garth smashed a vial against the Fire Wielder’s leg. Acid sprayed in all directions, searing through both his own hand and the Fire Wielder’s thigh.

  They screamed simultaneously as the Bubonic Acid consumed Garth’s fingers, then his palm, and finally crept up his wrist.

  Through sheer will, Garth crawled to the bag, pulled out the neutralizer, and downed half of it. By the time it began to work, his arm was gone up to the elbow.

  Gritting through the pain, he turned to look at the Fire Wielder.

  He had planned to give the rest of the neutralizer to him—but the man had fallen onto another broken vial. The acid had already eaten through his chest, reaching his heart and continuing to spread.

  “Damn it,” Garth whispered.

  He hadn’t wanted this. Taking lives was never his goal. But when it came down to it, he had chosen to survive.

  He turned to face the others.

  His heart dropped at the sight.

  He couldn’t believe it. But it had happened—right before his eyes.

  “Who could’ve ordered this?”

  He scanned the remains for any signs of life. There were none. Only ash and the faint scent of scorched blood clinging to blackened flesh.

  “Ah!” Garth groaned, collapsing to the ground. His head pulsing.

  The memory of his past life surged into his mind like a tidal wave. He saw it all—his comrades, his loved ones, the fall of humanity. Helplessness gripped him then, and it gripped him now.

  Epic, my foot. How am I supposed to save the human race? Someone else should’ve been chosen. Not me.

  A soft voice whispered in his ear.

  'Garth...'

  He raised his head.

  Standing before him was Calista.

  “Calista? Why are you here?”

  'You know why.'

  “Why did you choose me? I’m weak. I always have been. I always will be.”

  'Do you honestly believe that?'

  She sat beside him. He said nothing.

  'Fine then, she said, smiling gently. Let me remind you of some of your greatest feats.'

  A scroll appeared in her hand.

  'You, Garth Katharth, risked your life hundreds of times to protect the innocent, saved millions, an entire Kingdom, slayed a Leviathan, became the first human in five hundred years to reach the rank of Epic—and not just that, you killed ten demon kings.'

  She vanished from beisde him and stood before him, meeting his gaze.

  'But that’s not why I chose you. I chose you because you never give up. No matter how impossible things seem, you keep going. That’s how you became an Epic in the first place.'

  'Yes, watching the world die took a toll on you. But deep down, you’re still a fighter. There’s no one else I’d entrust with the lives of all my children.'

  'You try to save everyone, and I love that about you. But you must accept that you can’t save everyone. If you can’t accept that, you’ll lose the ones you can save. Do you understand?'

  Garth looked at her. His voice trembled.

  “I... I understand.”

  'Good. Now get up. You have a world to save.'

  “Right,” he replied, still saddened.

  'Oh, and since I’m here...'

  She reached out and touched his arm. Light engulfed the stump, and in moments, his arm was whole again.

  “Thank you.”

  'No worries. Just... try not to get injured so much. It’ll be a while before I can speak to you again.'

  “I understand.”

  'Goodbye, Garth.'

  She vanished in a plume of light.

  Garth sat in silence for several minutes before finally rising to his feet. He stepped into the circle of light at the center of the chamber, and was hoisted upward, then thrown onto solid ground.

  He made his way to the Guild carriage that had brought them. At his knock, the coachman peeked out.

  “Oh. Valet.” His eyes scanned behind Garth. “Where is everyone?”

  The look on Garth’s face told him everything he needed to know.

  ***

  Back in the capital, Garth gave his testimony to the Guild. They didn’t press him too hard—just the usual complaints about the failure rate of low-tier Void assignments.

  They asked about the space ring and whether he had collected any cores. He lied through his teeth.

  When the questioning ended, he returned to the spot where he had hidden the ring.

  After a deep breath, he headed home. The sky was still bright. It was just past five in the evening.

  His heart was heavy with grief. But if this tragedy proved anything, it was that he’d been slacking. No more. From this moment forward, he would train, grow stronger, and reclaim the rank of Epic—only this time, he’d do it in a fraction of the time.

  He would slay every demon king. He would save the world.

  Even if it cost him his life.

  As Garth approached his home, the setting sun cast golden rays against its walls.

  He stepped inside.

  “Father, Lionort, I need to ta—”

  He froze.

  “You’re back. So soon,” said a voice.

  The Raid Leader from the first failed mission stood beside Garth’s father, who knelt helplessly on the ground.

  Branded on his forehead was the unmistakable mark of execution.