The copper mine in the Zestrad territory was managed in practice by the Tecas merchant guild. They handled the mining, refining, and distribution processes almost entirely. However, that didn’t mean the Zestrad baronial family simply sat back and collected unearned profits. The mines were situated deep in the northern reaches of the Zeden Mountains. Thus, it was surrounded by untamed wilderness teeming with magical beasts and fierce predators. Ensuring the safety of the miners and securing the roads was one of the Zestrad family’s key responsibilities. In a forest west of the copper mine, a skirmish involving a dozen troops was underway. A pack of magical beasts, snarling and bloodthirsty, lunged at the soldiers. The beasts, called snerols, resembled large, ash-gray wolves, but their elongated fangs and claws marked them as anything but ordinary. The snerols surrounded the soldiers before letting out chilling howls. The soldiers, shields locked into formation, shouted back, refusing to be intimidated. "Thrust your spears!" Claws raked across shields, sparks flying, while spearheads gleamed as they slashed through the air. Blood sprayed, and the anguished howls of beasts echoed through the forest. Cheers erupted from the soldiers. "Focus! There are still plenty more!" Varos couldn’t help but marvel as he watched the scene unfold. "Wow. They’re holding their own pretty well." Physically, a snerol’s body wasn’t inherently much different from a normal wolf's. What made them so dangerous—and earned them classification as magical beasts—was the potent venom laced in their fangs and claws. A mere scratch could paralyze a victim entirely, making these creatures formidable foes. Back in the day, these packs alone cost countless lives, Varos thought. Now, however, most of the soldiers were handling the snerols adeptly. But this wasn’t because the soldiers’ overall skill level had dramatically increased compared to the past. This is the magic of money, I suppose. The mine’s profits had allowed a significant improvement in the territory’s armaments. Before the copper mine was discovered, even the knights had to cobble together gear, combining chainmail with scattered pieces of plate mail. Soldiers were often sent out with little more than crude leather armor—if they were lucky—or just spears and shields. But now? Even the common soldiers wore chainmail reinforced with steel guards for their arms and legs. The knights? Fully clad in plate mail, complete with expensive steel gauntlets. With this superior equipment, the soldiers no longer needed to fear every scratch or graze, giving them the courage to fight the beasts head-on. "Die, you wretched creatures!" "Come on, you bastards! Bite all you want—we can handle it now!" "Wait, no! Don’t let them actually bite you! Their fangs can still pierce armor if they get you right!" Watching the chaotic battle, Varos stifled a laugh. Suddenly, a soldier cried out in alarm, "Sir Varos!" A snerol had broken from the pack, charging straight at Varos with terrifying speed. The beast closed the gap in an instant, its claws poised to rip through Varos’s skull. And then—it happened. With a flash of steel, the snerol’s head soared through the air, severed cleanly from its body. The soldiers froze in stunned silence. It wasn’t a fancy technique. There was no dramatic flourish, no obvious technique. Varos had merely shifted his footing and rotated his shoulder, yet somehow, the beast was already dead. No one had even seen the strike. Sheathing his bloodied blade, Varos gave a respectful nod. "That was close. Thank you for the warning, Mr. Gilliman." "Ah, uh... yes, of course..." Gilliman, the soldier who had called out, blinked in disbelief before hurriedly shaking his head, snapping himself back to focus. "You don’t need to address me as such. You’re a knight now, aren’t you? Please, you don’t need to be formal with me, Sir Varos," Gilliman said with a sheepish grin. Varos scratched the back of his head with a bashful smile. "I haven’t been a knight long enough to talk down to you. That’d feel weirder, wouldn’t it?" Recently, Varos had officially been knighted. It was a direct appointment by Karnak, exercising his rights as the lord. There were no objections. Varos’s exceptional skills, his contributions to the territory’s defense, and his exemplary conduct had long earned him the people’s respect. Even now, after demonstrating such astonishing prowess in battle, he showed no signs of arrogance. For the other soldiers who still vividly remembered Varos’s unruly younger days, his transformation was a source of constant amazement. He’s this strong at such a young age, but also humble. Is that really the same Varos we used to know, the one who caused all that trouble? I guess people really can change that much. In truth, Varos didn’t boast because he had not faced anyone worth boasting about. But perception was what mattered. Meanwhile, Varos made short work of the remaining snerol pack. The last one let out a death cry, spraying blood across the ground as it fell. "That’s the last of them," Varos said as the soldiers began cleaning up. The hides, fangs, and claws of magical beasts fetched a good price as catalysts for spells and enchantments, making them a valuable side income for the soldiers. As they worked, the senior soldier and Varos’s de facto lieutenant, Toleil, approached him. "Well done, Sir Varos." "You all worked hard too," Varos replied. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵✶𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮✶𝓷𝓮𝓽 "Even so, it’s concerning," Toleil said, frowning. "Snerols weren’t this strong before." "They’ve grown at least twice as powerful compared to before. Didn’t you feel it too, Sir Varos?" Varos kept his expression neutral, though inwardly he was puzzled. How would I know if they’re weaker or stronger? His first encounter with a snerol had been during his past life, when he and Karnak were fresh-faced novices fleeing for their lives. Back then, he’d thought snerols were monsters straight out of hell. The next time he faced them, he’d already become a death knight. Back then, even just pointing at them was enough to make them explode. The gap is so vast, I have no frame of reference for how strong these ones are. Not wanting to betray his ignorance, Varos deflected the question with a modest reply. "Until recently, I couldn’t even dream of fighting on the front lines. I lack the experience you all have, so I wouldn’t know." "I guess that’s true," Toleil admitted, nodding thoughtfully. "But it’s clear the state of these beasts has changed. The only reason we handled them so easily is because of your strength and the improved quality of our equipment." The phenomenon wasn’t limited to the northern regions of the Kingdom of Eustil. Across the continent, magical beasts and creatures had been appearing more frequently, and their dangers seemed to grow with each passing day. "It seems the rumors are true," Toleil murmured gravely. Varos’s expression turned serious as well. He had heard those rumors before. "You mean the prophecy...? The one given by the goddess about the world’s end?" A few years ago, an event shook every religious order across the continent. The goddesses, who watched over the world and blessed humanity, delivered the same prophecy to all seven major faiths. The void shall open its maw, disgorging a fate unpermitted. It shall be darkness that erases light, death that claims life. The wayward beast shall gain forbidden strength, and the dead shall rise to tread upon corrupted earth. The King of Death shall descend, cleansing the world with blood and tears. And this shall toll the final knell of ruin. The priests and priestesses who received the prophecy of doom were horrified. The temples acted quickly, quietly disseminating the revelation to the various kingdoms and urging them to prepare for the coming disaster. And indeed, strange events began to unfold across the continent. The rampant appearances of magical beasts increased in frequency. Necromancers wielding forbidden powers became more common, and ordinary people fell into darkness, wielding vile forces that threw the world into chaos. At first, the prophecy was kept a secret, handled discreetly to avoid widespread panic and unrest among the populace. But such secrets proved impossible to conceal for long. The growing chaos gave rise to endless rumors and fearmongering. In the end, the seven major temples publicly announced the goddesses’ decree. "If left unchecked, the world will fall into ruin! In the name of the goddesses, rise and fight against the apocalypse!" The Prophecy of Doom spread across the continent like wildfire, eventually reaching even the remote region of Zestrad. Varos and Karnak sat together in the study, their faces grim as they discussed the situation. "What is this, young master? There wasn’t any prophecy in the past," Varos said. "There wasn’t," Karnak agreed. "Then why does the past keep changing? First the copper mine, and now this!" Karnak frowned deeply, shaking his head. "I don’t know. There’s too little information to draw any conclusions." Varos eyed him suspiciously. "...It’s not related to you, is it?" Chaos, the dead rising, the Monarch of Death washing the world in blood and tears, the world teetering on the brink of annihilation... "This sounds exactly like the stuff we used to do," Varos said. "You thought so as well, huh," Karnak admitted. He had wondered the same thing more than once. "But the timeline doesn’t match. We only returned to this era about a year ago." The goddesses’ prophecy was said to have been delivered several years earlier—well before the two of them had performed their time-reversal ritual. "It seems to have happened around four or five years ago." That was roughly the same time the copper mine inexplicably appeared. Perhaps the two phenomena were connected. "At least it explains why the whole Randolph incident was brushed aside so easily," Karnak mused. Apparently, sightings of necromantic powers had become increasingly common in recent years—not just among desperate peasants or back-alley criminals but even among knights, mages, and high-ranking nobles. "So when Randolph was exposed, they must’ve thought it was just another routine case," Varos said. "That part worked out for us," Varos added, though his face betrayed concern. "But shouldn’t we try to figure out what’s happening? They’re saying the world is going to end!" Even if the crisis wasn’t directly tied to them, the sheer magnitude of the situation couldn’t be ignored. "We came back to live as proper humans, didn’t we? What’s the point if the entire world falls apart?" "I get your concern," Karnak snapped, "but what exactly are we supposed to do? March over to the temples of the seven goddesses and demand answers?" "You said your chaos manawould let you hide your identity, right?" Varos pressed. "And then what? Do I say, ‘Hey, we’re time travelers, and the timeline has changed. Could you explain why?’" Karnak retorted. Varos slumped in defeat. "Yeah... That wouldn’t work." Silence settled over them until Karnak finally spoke again, his tone more measured. "Don’t you think we’re overthinking this? The goddesses themselves gave a warning, didn’t they? They’re telling everyone to prepare." "True. It’s not like the world will end that easily," Varos said. "You only succeeded at world domination because you built your strength over time and struck when the moment was right." "And even then, how much work did we put in to take over the world? How hard was it?" Karnak chuckled wryly. "It was hell, honestly. The Three Archmages, the Four Great Martial Kings, the Dragon Emperor Grateria..." The former Monarch of Death and his loyal death knight exchanged weary smiles. "Surely they’ll handle it," Karnak said. "Absolutely. No way this so-called King of Death is as ruthless as you were." Their discussion concluded: Trust in the strength of the world! Humanity, with all its greatness, would surely overcome whatever calamity lay ahead. The mighty dragons, the noble elves, and all the other great and powerful forces would undoubtedly unite to face the challenge. So they could afford to ignore and live modestly. They needed only to focus on themselves. —Although, the uneasy feeling remained. Damn, this feels off... We’re totally going to get caught up in this somehow. No matter how much one tries to shut themselves away, the storms of the world are not so easily avoided. Even the remote barony of Zestrad, tucked away in the northern reaches, could not escape the ripple effects of the Prophecy of Doom. About a month after the rumors began to spread, priests from the Church of Latiel, Goddess of the Sun, arrived at the barony with a request for assistance. "We’ve tracked a necromancer who was operating within Count Chad’s territory, and recent reports suggest they’ve fled to the Zestrad Barony. It’s likely they’re hiding somewhere near the Zeden Mountains. We humbly request Lord Karnak’s cooperation in this matter." Karnak readily agreed. "How could I refuse the divine mission of the goddess?" The Church of Latiel’s request was simple: they needed a few local guides familiar with the area. It was a task that required minimal effort but would bring significant goodwill. There was no reason to decline. For Karnak, it was also a timely opportunity. Perfect. If we catch this necromancer, it might give me some clues about what’s really going on.