Walm grabbed the sword in a haziness. But he knew that, in front of him, an enemy with a shimmering blade was screaming unbearably. His body reacted to a nostalgic sight as if trying to correct itself. Trampling the body of the enemy, who broke the fighting stance, he wanted to put an end to the shacking arms.

The tip of the sword tasted a human skin after a long time, tore the flesh, and was welcomed by overflowing fresh blood. A few centimeters more, blood would spurt out of the artery. It had experienced enough with the people of Liberitoa, Myard, and Ferrius.

A, Aah?

But Walm stopped.

Waar, yes, war war

Sudden discomfort rushed to him. The words of the bar owner were lingering too much in his mind. It forcefully mobilized the blurry brain, which was heavy and didnt want to move.

Strange

What was it ah, be more social, huh

A promise must be kept. Especially since the liquor that was offered, had filled the stomach. But, an enemy soldier was aiming for life. Enemy soldiers must be killed, couldnt be overlooked. Giving too much pity would only lead to being the old self, and it would only hurt more to live in this world.

Something, is wrong

Something cloudy and invisible trying to cling to his mind. While turning the entwined brain, he arrived at the true nature of the sense of incongruity. Although it was a vague memory due to alcohol, Walm continued to fight on the battlefield as a soldier of the Highserk Empire. As a result, his comrades, family, neighbors, and nation he lost everything he wanted to protect.

eah ight. thats, right. I, have, lost.

Walms reason, who had escaped to alcohol, slowly returned to reality. The brain revived a memory he didnt want to recall.

Hu, ha, aha, ha pa, thetic.

The men who saw Walms bitter laugh made a noise. His brain, which was full of alcohol, was screaming.

Please. Stop. We were stupid. Forgive us.

I will never do such a stupid thing again. I swear to God.

God, huh

Walm believed that if there was a God, that fucking bastard must hate him.

Trying to clear the cloudy mind, Walm squinted his eyes and carefully observed the man under his eyes.

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No, not these guys

The fact that the war had been over.

The fact that he wasnt a soldier anymore.

It struck him.

Yeah Im just, a pathetic defeated soldier, who failed to die

Then, what are these guys? Why is he pulling out a sword?

He turned the questions that came up to the adventurer who crawled under his eyes.

Something, is wrong You, pulled out a sword. Must be, Enemy, right?

Walm stabbed something like a breastplate with the tip of his sword and urged the adventurer to answer.

Squeaking the teeth, the adventurer began to respond.

I-it, it, it was just a fake threat. I-I wasnt serious. I-I picked a fight but was ignored, so the blood rushed to my head.

Fight? A-ah, a fight, huh. Sometimes, you threaten others, by pulling out your sword, huh.

On the battlefield, once you pulled out the sword and directed it to someone, it wouldnt end until one died. That was the absolute practice in a crazy struggle.

Forgive me, Ill pay for bothering you, please dont kill me.

The adventurer spoke as fast as the mouth allowed. Walm turned his eyes to the fellow adventurers with a stunned face. He couldnt feel the spirit of the soldiers who bore the prestige of the country, nor the bare instinct for survival. It was really just a bunch of stupid people who asked for a quarrel.

The bloody eyes subsided, and the alcohol began to dominate the brain again. In a word, it was a turn off.

Walm, who was pulled back to reality, received the money offered.

Hah, dont, get, involved, with me anymore.

Put the sword in the magic bag, picked up the flask thrown on the side of the road, and checked the contents. It was unknown to Walm whether the contents were spilled or he drank it all until empty.

Wait, I changed my mind

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The adventurers necks awkwardly moved the head at Walm, as if they were rusty metal dolls.

You guys, got some drink?

A, aaa, yes, we have. Take as much as you like.

Satisfied with the collected liquor bottles and the new flask, Walm returned home without looking at the adventurer again. A liquor bottle was brought directly to the mouth and the contents were poured, slowly mixing with the distilled liquor and wine in his stomach.

Fu, uuuuhhh

The throat was burning and the stomach welcomed the new alcohol. Blood pulsated. Thoughts that were about to become clear, became cloudy again. But this was fine, Walm didnt need to work his brain again for today. His consciousness was only for alcohol.

There was no taste. However, if the body and mind were dominated by the feeling of drunkenness, it was more than enough. That was all Walm needed.

A soldiers scream.

A compatriot, who had been chewed together with his armor by sharp teeth, weakly hit the monsters body with a broken sword.

A militia, who volunteered to protect his family, exposed his viscera to the atmosphere while muttering the names of his wife and child.

Citizens seeking asylum were slaughtered in turn in a castle with no escape.

A monster approached from behind the infant. Walm shouted with all his might.

RUUUNN!!

Right, it was useless. Everything was useless. Walm understood that clearly. After all, it was all over. The clock hands would never turn in reverse. Still, he couldnt help screaming.

He couldnt reach his comrades, the adventurers who once were his enemy, and those who seek salvation.

He couldnt live up to the wish of the weak girl who showed her determination on the battlefield.

He couldnt fulfill the promises he had made.

All he could do, was only stand by.

Hell Perhaps it might sound cheap. Still, it was a word that would really fit this. The hell that should have been ended, was still going on in Walm.

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From the mouth of the family who once saw him off when he was dispatched with a good luck, a curse word was spun with a groaning voice, and the bloody arms spread out to the fullest asking for a hug. He felt as if they were trying to celebrate his return, but also hungry for his living flesh. One thing that was certain, was that Walm smashed his parents skulls from under the chins.

The feeling that he could never forget, was like a curse.

The corrupt memories were rapidly breaking down. The muddy world slowly cleared.

When Walm opened his eyes, it was a dirty, muddy-looking room.

Morning? Its morning again, huh

There was no furniture in the room other than the built-in shelves and beds. The armor that once shared the battlefield was now lonely covered with dust in one corner of the room, and the mask was hung from a window.

Walm tried to put the mask in the magic bag, but for some reason, he couldnt put it in. Vibrated, again and again, it also refused to get dust with his armor. Feeling loss, he decided to hang it on a window with a panoramic view of the outside. Only by then, the mask stopped vibrating.

The mask trembled a little as the sun rose.

There was no day when Walm didnt have a nightmare. Even if he woke up, the memory never disappeared. It had been a year, but he still remembered it as if it were yesterday.

The bed was littered with liquor bottles that had been abandoned, and the room was dominated by alcohol from the turned-over bottles.

Walm hated early morning. Despite the stomach packed with so much alcohol, just a short sleep completely awakened his body. He wasnt sure whether to be happy with having a body with good metabolism or not. After all, if he got sober, the memories would be revived even if he didnt like it.

The determination to move forward was never made, and the holes in the heart were never filled.

Going crazy with alcohol and cigarettes, he spent days as if waiting for time to erase his memory. To heal his hearts.

Goods and coins plundered from the corpses and abandoned supplies supported Walms laziness. The former owners who would have wanted to live, their wishes couldnt be realized even after they gave such a reward.

Knowing that, Walm was self-loathing his useless self, which enjoyed the days of rotting. This lifestyle might continue until his death. There was no other choice in Walm. Other than slowly letting himself decay in this small room. There was no other salvation for him.

Ah, uh, Uurrgghhh

Sudden memory revival.

Walm quickly opened up the sealed liquor bottle with his quivering hands, and poured it into his oral cavity all at once. Alcohol ran around the body, paralyzing the brain. Even if you could pretend to be a crazy person with alcohol, didnt mean you were completely crazy. Walm understood that. But nothing more he couldve done.

Ha HAHA, ha

Nothing was interesting or funny. But a laugh echoed in the room. A dry laugh. As if just trying to warm up the facial nerve.

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Like it or not, another day to live started.

Looked outside. Somehow, the cloudless blue sky felt ominous.