The morning sun painted the ridgeline of the Hairei Mountains crimson. The city of Lostclare was beginning to wake. Merchants preparing their market stalls, the smell of cooking drifting from homes, the distant cry of roosters. Nothing remarkable—just the morning of a small frontier town. Leon pushed open the door to the Adventurers' Guild, bathed in that morning light. "Welcome." The receptionist offered a mechanical greeting. Her eyes glanced toward Leon for just a moment before looking away. Sympathy and faint disgust. That complex mixture of emotions in her gaze—Leon had received it hundreds of times before. Deep wrinkles etched across his forehead. White hair mixed in at his temples. A worn copper-rank adventurer's badge pinned to the chest of his black shirt, which hung loosely from his shoulders. Forty-two years old. Or rather, he looked older than that. His physical body was close to fifty-seven. The price paid twenty years ago, when he was twenty-two and activated the forbidden magic "Life's Sacrifice." He felt the cost of that debt in his skin every single day. "Please help yourself to the request board." Leon walked in the direction the receptionist indicated. The request cards pinned to the guild's wall numbered in the hundreds. Dangerous silver and gold-rank assignments, down to simple copper-rank labor. The Azure Flame Leon, who once held a rank approaching platinum, could now only pick up jobs from the very bottom. Herb gathering. Repairing collapsed houses. Transporting food to isolated villages. Every single one was a shamefully low-paying request. "Leon." A slow, considerate voice came from behind. It was the branch director, Helda Brunn. The former silver-rank adventurer looked at Leon with furrowed brows. "Wouldn't assignments of this caliber be a waste of your abilities? Perhaps a silver-rank—" "That's enough." Leon cut him off quietly. "Attempting silver-rank without magical power is like walking toward death. I understand that much." Helda stared into Leon's eyes. Resignation seeped from that gaze. Completing minimal work to survive, filling his hunger, maintaining the will to face tomorrow. That was all Leon's life had become. He removed "Herb Gathering Around the Holy Grounds" from the request board. The reward was two gilza. Enough for three days of meals. "Then, I'll take this." Leon bowed and left the guild without waiting for whatever Helda was about to say. --- Three days later, Leon was deep within the ash-green forest. Thirty-five kilometers southeast of Lostclare. Lush broadleaf trees covered the sky, and unnamed medicinal herbs clustered beneath his feet. This forest, where ancient magical power had seeped into the soil, was a dangerous zone inhabited by oversized monsters. Most assignments here were silver-rank recommended. But herb gathering was low difficulty. Leon walked the moss-covered path with only a basket in hand, carrying no weapons. A nostalgic place. Twenty years ago, he and his companions had explored this forest many times. Back then, they were all young. Full of strength. And full of hope. (Stop thinking foolish things.) Leon shook his head. The past was the past. It would never return. The Silent Holy Grounds lay deeper within the ash-green forest. Countless crumbling stone pillars stood upright, and moss-covered stairs descended underground. A place where one could feel the layering of time unique to ancient ruins. This must have once been some kind of temple. Traces of a long-dead ancient civilization remained, crumbling away. The herb-gathering assignment was supposed to be completed near the surface. But Leon's feet naturally led him downward. The first underground level was a prayer chamber. A corridor-like space stretched for approximately two hundred meters. Perhaps the footsteps of monks once echoed here. Now, only Leon's footsteps resonated through the silence. (It was here that Hannah...) The image of a silver-haired woman surfaced in his mind. Twenty years ago, a bow-user among his companions. She had come to this place on a separate mission, and then... Leon stopped walking. "Stop it." He muttered under his breath. Don't remember. Don't dwell in the past. Surviving is enough for now. He found the passage to the second underground level. It was called the Magical Experiment Chamber. True to its name, traces of experiments conducted by ancient sorcerers were visible throughout. Broken magical circles, shattered stone tablets, blackened traces of magical power. As Leon searched for herbs, he ventured deeper. That's when he found the collapsed wall. Weathered by time, part of it had caved inward. Through the gap, a faint light—no, a different color—was visible. Leon pushed aside the stone blocks. Physical labor was well within the capacity of his body, even without magical power. The opening gradually widened, and eventually a small chamber came into view. "..." Leon held his breath. In the depths of the small chamber, on a simple stone pedestal, lay a grayish-white stone tablet. Stone polished by ancient techniques. Upon it was carved a seal. Complex, beautiful, and emanating something dangerously energetic. Curiosity moved Leon's feet. (What is this...?) He reached toward the tablet. In that instant— Searing pain. Lightning coursed through the back of his left hand. No—it was more than that. Something burning raced through every blood vessel in his body. Leon couldn't even scream, falling to his knees. "Ugh... ah..." His vision blurred. He couldn't breathe. His entire body felt engulfed in flames. An overwhelming torrent of magical power—something he hadn't felt in twenty years—pierced through him. He looked at the back of his left hand. A seal was burning into his skin. Its outline became clear, etched in red. Twenty years. For the first time in twenty years, magical power filled Leon's body. It was equal to, or perhaps greater than, what he once possessed. Magical power approaching his prime, or possibly exceeding it. Joy and terror filled his chest simultaneously. "...It's back." He whispered, but the voice wasn't Leon's. It was the voice of a warrior awakening after twenty years. The voice of that man who once bore the name Azure Flame. As the seal settled, Leon felt something else awakening. The combat instincts he had suppressed. And something else. A bestial passion he had long kept buried beneath reason. Lust. His breathing grew ragged. His heart pounded violently. His fingers trembled slightly. Every muscle in his body convulsed as if seeking something. "This is..." Leon looked at the tablet. Beside the tablet, ancient characters were carved. His knowledge of ancient languages was incomplete, but he could barely decipher them. "Offer life, gain power." That was all. The rest was missing. (Blessing or curse...?) Leon clenched his left hand. He felt the seal pulsing like a heartbeat. It was converting his life force directly into magical power. The price was— (My lifespan. It's consuming my remaining life.) He understood. This power came at no cost. It was burning through his remaining years, literally, to grant him strength. And yet. "I can fight again." Leon stood up. His body felt light. That sensation itself was nostalgic. Twenty years—the sensation of having strength, of being a powerful self. In the darkness of the ruins, Leon's eyes gleamed. A dangerous, bestial light. --- At dusk, the tavern "Sooty Lantern" in Lostclare was bustling. Normally, standing behind the counter was the proprietor and former adventurer Golt Hargen. The fifty-eight-year-old man deftly poured drinks from a barrel despite having lost one arm. "Hey, Leon. You're here again?" Golt's voice carried a hint of exasperation. "The usual—" Leon started to say, but different words came from his mouth. "Goat meat in black beer stew. Three portions." Golt's eyes widened. "...And bread. Four loaves." "Are you alright?" Golt looked at Leon with concern. His former companion had been saying "just bread and water" for the past few months. Because he had no money. "Ale too. Two glasses." Leon answered quietly. The adventurers around them began to chuckle. They thought the old hero had finally broken. But Leon heard none of it. The food arrived. Immediately, Leon began eating ravenously. Abnormal appetite. The seal was consuming his life force. His body instinctively demanded nutrients to compensate for that consumption. The goat meat stew was the tavern's specialty. Meat tender from long cooking, rich sauce clinging to it. Leon finished three portions in no time. He slurped all four loaves of bread in the soup. He drained both glasses of ale in one go. "More." Leon said. Golt silently poured another glass. The laughter of the adventurers around them grew louder. The decline of a former hero. A washed-up old man. That was the extent of their regard. But in that laughter, Leon simply drank quietly. Once his hunger was satisfied, he gradually regained composure. The pulsing of the seal continued in the back of his left hand, but the acute sense of starvation faded. He looked at his left hand. In the dim light of the tavern, the seal was faintly visible. Complex geometric patterns. Ancient. Forbidden. (This power. How do I use it?) Leon considered. The joy of regaining strength, and simultaneously, anxiety about the price it demanded. The surge of combat instinct. Lust—that bestial passion. All of it swirled within him. (Can I control it? Or...) Leon set down his glass. He left the tavern and stepped outside. Night had fallen on the city. Stars twinkled beyond the Hairei Mountains. A new fate was beginning to move. Leon himself didn't realize it, but at that very moment, in another part of the city, two women were seeking to know him. One was a fairy-race woman standing on a hill at the city's edge. The other was a purple-haired woman gazing at the night scenery from a window on the second floor of an inn. Three lives were about to intersect. But that was still in the future. At this moment, all Leon knew was one thing. The beast within him had awakened. And what it sought, he did not yet understand.