Ethan sat inside his tent, staring at the event notification. Apparently, both generals had received a system warning—combat was forbidden after 6 PM.
Yawning, he opened the event tab.
[Event – First War: Casualty Count]
Humans: 245,000
Drenkars: 263,000
Ethan was genuinely surprised. He had expected the death toll to be much higher across the pnet.
But he knew this was just the beginning.
He had seen them—the wyvern and the enemy general.
They were too strong. Even with Jason and Michael’s help, taking them down would be extremely difficult.
The enemy had the advantage of taming powerful beasts. But humans had firearms and superior technology.
Opening his status window, Ethan frowned.
[Status]
Unique Ability: Fusion
Patron Ability: Blood Infusion
Level: 48
Css: Adaptive Blood Raider
Titles: Not unlocked
Rank: F
Body Essence Rank: E+
Mind Essence Rank: E
Vital Force: 2549/2600
Blood Essence: 1000/2200
Skills: (...)
Weak.
He was still too weak. Ethan suspected the enemy general was at least level 70.
Looking up, he saw Lisa step out of the bathroom, wearing a thin white shirt. He quickly averted his gaze.
“Lisa, what level are you?”
“Fifty. Killing humans gives a lot of XP… but it’s mentally exhausting.” A flicker of guilt or disgust crossed her face.
“At level 50, you get to choose from five random skills that match your combat style—analyzed by the system or some gods trying to score points with new recruits, you know… Maybe you’ll get something good.” She expined, noticing Ethan’s conflicted expression.
Ethan nodded before lying down on his poorly made bed, closing his eyes.
“Going to sleep?” Lisa asked.
“Just say what you want…” Ethan replied. He knew that tone, she wanted to vent.
“This whole thing is messed up, you know? Killing humans, the gods, everything... I can’t take it anymore!” She pouted.
Sitting next to Ethan, she sighed.
“Do you think we’ll survive long?”
Ethan simply nodded.
Lisa frowned at his ck of reaction and decided to push him further.
“Did you have a girlfriend?”
“What was your job?”
“How was your time in the army?”
“What about—”
“When did—”
He only answered with a few words, a short phrase, or a nod.
Then, she asked, “What about your family?”
She was about to give up until she saw his face change.
Ethan’s expression hardened. His features sharpened, and he abruptly opened his eyes.
“I don’t have one.” His voice wavered, just for a second before he covered it up with a cough.
Trauma? Lisa thought, her lips curling into a mischievous grin.
Interesting… this could be useful.
Humming, she skipped away cheerfully while Ethan drifted off to sleep.
No one knew where she was going.
***
Ethan woke up in the morning feeling… almost happy?
Walking through the city, he absentmindedly flipped a few gold coins in his hand.
“What should I eat today?” He strolled along, lost in thought.
[The war resumes in 3 hours.]
Entering a small shop, he ordered waffles and coffee.
“Lisa’s probably already training,” he muttered, taking a sip. The rich aroma brought a rare smile to his face.
But then his thoughts darkened.
“What a shame… soon, I’ll be watching humans die, their guts spilling onto the battlefield.”
His face fell.
Finishing the st bite of his waffles, Ethan let the warmth of the coffee linger on his tongue before exhaling softly. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the fleeting sense of normalcy.
But reality was never kind.
With a heavy sigh, he set down the empty cup, stood up, and stretched his arms. His body was still aching from yesterday’s battle—especially his ribs, where the wyvern had struck him. The pain had dulled overnight, thanks to his regeneration, but a lingering soreness reminded him of how close he had been to death.
Shaking off the discomfort, he stepped outside. The streets were bustling with soldiers and mercenaries, some sharpening weapons, others reinforcing their armor. The stench of blood and gunpowder still clung to the air, a bitter reminder that the war was far from over.
Ethan adjusted the straps of his gear and began walking toward the great wall that separated their city from the battlefield. His footsteps were steady, yet each step carried a sense of inevitability.
Everywhere he looked, preparations for the next csh were underway.
Some warriors were practicing swordpy, their bdes cshing in controlled duels. Others sat in quiet corners, muttering prayers to the gods, hoping for a sliver of protection. A few just stared bnkly into the distance, their eyes hollow, haunted by the horrors they had witnessed.
The closer Ethan got to the wall, the heavier the atmosphere became.
He could already hear the distant sounds of the enemy forces beyond—the rhythmic march of soldiers, the guttural roars of tamed beasts, and the occasional warhorn echoing through the nd.
The war wasn’t waiting. It would soon consume them all again.
Ethan tightened his grip on his sword’s hilt.
There was no time for hesitation.
He kept walking.
