Horrified, the boy ran. He ran and ran until his stomach started to ache and he struggled to breathe for air.

The scent of blood and urine thickened in the evening chill. The sky above appeared as though it had absorbed all the blood shed in the battle that took place here and painted itself in it.

It was sickening. Yet, it seemed to comfort him in some sort of way.

Various questions plagued the boy's mind — Question to which he did not have answers of.

After looking around, terror welled up inside him. All he saw was red. Rivers of red blood enveloped the battlefield.

Covered in their own entrails, soaked in blood of their comrades, deads bodies were bestrewed on the ground.

These soldiers—who might have lived a good life if they didn't participate in this battle— now had expressions of horror and disbelief on their faces, which served as the testimony to the hellish experience they must had gone through.

Weapons were everywhere — sticking out of bodies as if they were pin cushions, some still within the grasp of dead hands.

The bodies lying here were enough to create mountain out of them. It was as if Death himself had strolled through the battlefield, and no one had even tried to stop him. Everywhere, the boy saw Spellcasters, Paladins, Knights, Warriors, Clerics, dead.

The sight of a dozen or two vultures feasting upon the flesh of these dead soldiers almost caused him to throw up.

The boy found himself running towards a hill with all his might. At a distance of just 110 yards, it did not take him long to reach the top of the hill.

Looking at a man in front of him, the boy stood there, motionless.

The man in question was genuflecting with his arms swaying loosely to sideways, as if they had lost every sense of movement.

One might even mistake him to be offering a prayer if it weren't for the ghastly condition he was in. Four weapons were stabbed into him. Two swords: First one thrusted deeply into his right shoulder, severing his scapula. Second one in his heart, rupturing all the arteries.

One arrow tearing right through his lungs. And a spear jutting out across his back, severely damaging the spinal cord.

Blood trickled down from his neck. His hands were burnt off, which was possible caused by a Fireball spell. But despite that fact, he was still holding tightly onto a golden sword, as if he wanted to convey that it was his last vestige.

Several bodies were littered around his body. Different from the ones he encountered before, they were in a much more unrecognizable state. Some head their heads cut off while a few had their whole body mashed into the very picture of cruelty.

The boy moved close until he was just one foot away from the man's body. Trembling, his hands reached out to the man's shoulders, shaking them a little.

"…Big brother?" The boy's voice was low, to the point where it almost sounded like a whisper.

Silence. It was all he got in return.

The boy jerked the man's shoulders once again, but with a lot more force this time.

Responding to this forceful movement, the man's body fell to the ground.

"Brother?! Brother!? BROTHER!" Malazan woke up and found himself gasping for air.

Looking around, he saw he was still in his room. He touched his face and found it soggy with sweat.

How shameful. To think those dreams still haunt someone like me.

Malazan poured a glass of water for himself, and drank from it.

"What happened?" A coolly voice resounded in the room.

He turned to face Cloven, who stood there in the corner with his usual straight face.

"Mind telling me when you got here?"

"Just now. I thought I heard you shouting."

"You thought wrong. Anyway, how goes the mission I gave you?" Malazan asked as he slowly got out of his bed.

"It's done. Their memories of yesterday have been erased."

"That's good to hear. We can't have them spreading rumors about our strength. We must keep our powers hidden. Uncertainty can sometimes be a powerful element of surprise. By the way, which spell did you use?"

" 「Memory Tempering 」"

"A fifth tier spell, huh?"

Memory Tempering, as its name applied, was a fifth tier spell which was used to temper with a person's memory. Although it wasn't able to temper an individual's memories to a large extent, it worked quite well if one just wanted to play with memories of four-stars and below ranking adventurers.

One downside to it was that it didn't work on rank-five and above individuals. But there are many other higher-tier spells who can counter it's downside.

"Even if we know there is no one stronger than us out there?" Cloven asked.

"No, my apprentice. There is, or rather are some who are stronger than us. You shouldn't forget to take 'their' existence into account. Besides, one must always assume there is someone stronger than him out there. Can't have your master here lying in a coffin just because he got arrogant." Malazan shrugged and started adjusting his clothes.

Malazan's countless experiences had forged him into an extremely cautious individual, so one couldn't fault him for being so paranoid.

"But those beings you speak of are not even mortals." Cloven said, bemused.

"But that doesn't mean they won't interfere with the mortal world. When we make our move, they will definitely join the fray. That said, it's still too early to think about these matters. Come, let us go collect our reward"

Cloven nodded and followed Malazan out of the room.

☯☯☯☯☯☯

After entering the building, Malazan saw the counter where three ladies received adventurers with smiles.

There were warriors in full body armor, agile looking people with a bow and dressed in light armor, people in priestly attire accessorized with religious symbols... and spellcaters with long robes and staffs.

There was a large door to the left and a bulletin board to the right. He didn’t see them yesterday, but there were several parchments pasted on it and groups of adventurers were talking in front of them.

Many looked at the one-star tattoo on Malazan's neck and he could feel them gawking at his entire body, similar to the atmosphere at the tavern the day before yesterday.

Malazan observed these adventurers from the corner of his eyes. The tattoos on their necks were of two-star and and three-star, there were no one-star tattoos. Yet, without even feeling out of place, Malazan and Cloven calmly walked up to the counter.

A group of adventurer just departed, leaving one of the female receptionists free. After reaching her he asked:

"Sorry to interrupt you while you are busy, milady. We have completed our job and would be grateful if you could hand over our reward."

"O-of course, Sir. Please show the evidence to the other counter over there." The receptionist blushed as she pointed towards a counter to the right.

Malazan glanced to where she was pointing and saw a big line of adventurers standing in front of the counter. It seemed that their number won't be coming any time soon.

Ugh, I don't have time for this.

"Excuse me, but I and my comrade here are running short on time. Could please you do me a favor and check the evidence yourself?" He leaned closer, their faces drawing near, and grabbed her hands gently.

The receptionist shrieked and blushed even

further. "S-sir, but I am do not have the authority to-"

"Please." Malazan tightened his grip and his dashing blue eyes directly made contact with hers.

"I-i will do it! Please sperate your hand!" The receptionist's face was now as red as tomato. Her face was now held low and she couldn't even find the courage to look into his eyes.

Prefect.

"I thank you, milady. Please let me know if you ever need my help." Malazan winked, delivery the last blow which destroyed all her defenses.

"U-um, okay. Please hand over the evidence to me."

"Of course." Malazan reached out to a sack attached to his waist and placed it on the counter.

"Six goblins, right?" The receptionist said as she inspected the goblin ears.

"Indeed, my good lady." He gave her one of his gentle smiles.

"Here is your reward: Twenty coppers." She put the coins in front of them, which Malazan unceremoniously accepted.

"Once again, I'd like to offer you my gratitude. I will definitely repay you when I come back next time."

"Y-you d-don't have to do that, Sir."

"A gentleman never lets a favor go unreturned. Surely, you wouldn't want me to go against my principles?"

"Cheh… a gentleman my ass!"

"Shut up, Cloven!"

"Of course not! You misunderstood me!" The receptionist panicked. It could be seen that she didn't know how to handle this situation.

"Hahaha…alright then. I shall assume you now have no more protests." Malazan laughed as he made his way out of the Guild, followed by Cloven from behind.

☯☯☯☯☯☯

“That man is so cool!”

“Totally!”

"Hey, Lettrie! You are so lucky! He even flirted with you!"

"H-he did not!!

"Don't lie! We saw him holding your hands with our own eyes!"

As Malazan left the Adventurer Guild, the other two receptionists gathered around the receptionist named Lettrie, and bombarded her with various questions.

"Lettrie, what did he say?"

"Did he ask you out for lunch?"

"What are you going to say the next you meet him?"

They acted more like girls who had met the prince they pined for rather than women of poise and intelligence. A few of the adventurers in the line had jealous frowns on their faces, but they didn’t say anything because they themselves could see how elegant and handsome Malazan was.

"No, no, and no! He didn't say anything of that sort!"

"You are lying again! Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the third son of a noble!"

Nobles who don't inherit the household usually become butlers. Some even receive a part of land if their household is wealthy enough to support it.

But, that option is only available for the second sons of nobility. Third sons are worse off. Most of them are only offered a paltry sum of money, which is barely enough to open up a small shop.

Yet, there are a few of them who choose a different route: They become adventurers. Noble heirs, irrespective of their status, are required to go through knight training.

They are also taught some basic Knight Arts. Like how a spellcaster casts spells, knights make use of Arts to enhance their strength. So usually, the third son of a noble commands strength which makes him eligible to become an adventure, even if he may fit into only one-star category.

The aura of elegance that Malazan emitted, and his formal way of speaking, was what caused these receptionists to think he had the blood of a noble pumping through his veins.

"Lettrie, you must let me handle his requests when he come backs, okay?"

"W-why should I do that?!"

"What are you panicking for? Didn't you say there was nothing going on between the two of you? Don't tell me you lied to us?"

"…I-it's not like that…" Lettrie didn't know what was going on with her. Her mind was in flutters, and she couldn't make sense of this emotion she was experiencing. It made her heart race. It felt as if her whole world has suddenly been filled with various colors.

Don't tell me I have been smitten? Who is that man?

Although she didn't want to admit it, she was really looking to meeting Malazan.