Miser Dungeoneer

A decade passed.

Human Continent.

Standing atop a cliff and staring at the burning village below, a warrior clad in tattered clothes gazed at it.

His dark eyes shined with a dull hue and his unkempt hair swayed with the breeze.

Sighing deeply, the figure said, "I don't know what to do anymore."

Though he may appear to be looking at the burning village, the focus of his eyes was somewhere else.

[Ding!]

[The apocalypse is approaching!]

[Ding!]

[The apocalypse is approaching!]

[Ding!]

[The apocalypse is approaching!]

[Ding!]

[The apocalypse is approaching!]

[Ding!]

[The apocalypse is approaching!]

The line of texts in front of his eyes annoyed him to no end. He couldn't eat, sleep, or even make love peacefully.

The looming danger and the stress of the apocalypse had always kept him on the edge all these years.

"How many years has it been? Almost three and a half centuries?"