Welcome to SteelWall

The group entered the town cautiously.

From a distance, the towering walls gave the impression of a mighty fortress, but once past the gates, the reality was far less impressive.

The houses were simple—mostly wooden structures with a few cracked concrete buildings scattered around. The streets were paved, though time had left them uneven and broken.

It was hard to gauge this world's technological level—a strange blend of antiquity and modernity.

Despite being "heroes" sent by the gods, there were no cheers or celebrations waiting for them.

The streets were eerily quiet.

The only sounds came from hushed whispers behind shuttered windows, where wary eyes peeked out, filled with curiosity and suspicion.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, shadows stretched across the town, making the already somber atmosphere feel even heavier.

The group, however, seemed unfazed. They laughed and chatted like nothing was out of place.

All except Finn. He walked with his head down, dragging his feet beside Daion, avoiding eye contact with the villagers.

The tension in the air thickened—until a sudden burst of laughter broke the silence.

Daion turned his head.

In a nearby alley, a group of children were playing—except their "toys" were old helmets, rusted rifles, and battered spears. The weapons were real, but the kids treated them like they were nothing more than playthings.

Jack noticed Daion's interest and stopped beside him, watching.

At first, the children didn't seem to notice them. But then, one by one, their laughter died down as they realized they were being watched.

Their expressions shifted. Curiosity turned into wariness.

A boy—grimy-faced, dressed in ragged clothes—stepped forward, gripping a rifle that looked heavier than he was.

He locked eyes with Daion, his voice firm despite the slight tremble in his hands.

"What are you staring at, Summoned?"

Daion felt a pang of pity.

"...Are you guys okay?"

The children exchanged glances, momentarily caught off guard by the question.

The boy with the rifle lowered his weapon for just a second. There was fear in his eyes, but also defiance.

"Don't be stupid." His voice wavered, but he forced himself to sound tough. "What do you want? Here to screw us over again?"

Jack took a slow step forward, brows furrowed at the boy's words.

Before he could speak, the kid raised his rifle again—and pulled the trigger.

Click.

The empty chamber echoed in the alleyway.

Daion flinched, his heart pounding.

When he looked up, the boy was smirking.

"Heroes?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with bitter amusement. "Yeah, right. Just a bunch of cowards."

He turned away, rejoining his friends.

Then, with a casual flick of his hand, a brick flew straight toward Daion.

By pure instinct, Daion dodged just in time, the brick whizzing past his head.

The boy's laughter rang out behind him.

"You should leave." His tone was sharp. "We'd be better off without you."

The group stood in stunned silence.

Daion clenched his fists. Not just because of the hostility—but because of what he had just witnessed.

Telekinesis...?

How the hell had the kid done that?

But more than that... a much darker question gnawed at him.

What had the previous heroes done to make these children react like this?

A memory surfaced—the hooded man looting corpses, unbothered, like it was just another task.

And then, Daion remembered the words of that god.

Nothing special.

They weren't chosen.

They weren't heroes.

Just a bunch of unlucky bastards who had the misfortune of dying.

Jack was the first to break the silence.

"Let's go."

Daion exhaled, forcing himself to move forward.

As they walked, the villagers' murmurs followed them like ghosts.

Jack smirked slightly. Daion noticed—but chose to ignore it.

After a short walk, they arrived at what looked like a church.

Or at least, it should have been a church.

The massive steel doors, the spiked windows replacing stained glass, the sealed bell tower—nothing about it felt holy. A faint, eerie toll of a bell echoed from within.

Inside, the layout resembled a traditional place of worship. Wooden pews, kneeling benches, and a few scattered worshippers praying in silence.

But the moment the group stepped inside, the prayers stopped.

The worshippers stood abruptly and left without a word.

Daion swallowed hard.

At the far end of the hall, a priest sat on a raised platform, watching them in silence.

Behind him, a massive stained-glass window shimmered in the dying sunlight—depicting a gathering of radiant gods in an idyllic garden.

At the center of the image, Daion immediately recognized someone.

Dark skin. Snow-white hair.

The bastard who brought him here.

They were led into a back room, a reception area with a waiting lounge.

Behind a desk, a pale-skinned woman with dark hair and deep markings on her face was reviewing documents.

Jack strode forward without hesitation.

"Wait here. I'll get our reward."

Without another word, he approached the receptionist.

The rest of the group settled into the chairs.

Still lost in thought, Daion finally asked, "Reward?"

Haruka plopped down beside him, resting against his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"For the Eyes we killed earlier," she said casually.

Daion tensed slightly.

Is this girl always this touchy…?

"So, we get paid for killing monsters?" he asked, trying to ignore her closeness.

Across from them, Minjae was sprawled out on a couch, arms folded behind his head.

"Only if we're hired."

Finn, however, remained standing, staring at the floor in silence.

Daion scanned the room, his mind weighed down by everything that had happened.

His first day in this world had been a complete nightmare.

Even now, his left arm trembled from the memory of that "bat" sinking its teeth into him.

And worst of all...

He still had no answers.

And that was starting to drive him insane.

Daion let out a slow breath, rubbing his temples.

"Alright..." he muttered, trying to piece his thoughts together. "Can someone finally explain what the hell is going on? Because, seriously... I have no idea what we're even doing here."

The group exchanged glances.

After a moment, Haruka was the first to speak.

She leaned forward slightly.

"Well, to put it simply…"

Her voice took on a rare seriousness.

"Remember the monsters we fought?"

How could he forget?

"You noticed, didn't you? They weren't normal animals. They were... things that don't belong in this world."

Minjae spoke up, his voice low.

"I'd call them demons."

Haruka nodded.

"We don't know exactly why, but they're invading this world. This war has been going on for three hundred years, and despite all efforts to stop them…"

She hesitated before finishing her sentence.

"At this point, ninety percent of the population is already dead."

Minjae sighed.

"The territory has shrunk to a single peninsula—about forty thousand square kilometers."

Silence fell over the room.

And Daion finally realized.

This wasn't just a battle.

It was extinction.

"As the gods told us," Haruka continued, "this kind of thing happens all the time across the universe. But this planet… for some reason, they couldn't just let it fall. So they started sending humans with… certain 'gifts.'"

"That simple?" Daion asked, skeptical.

Haruka nodded with a lopsided smile. "Pretty cliché, huh? Feels like something out of a cheap novel."

Daion crossed his arms, glancing at the others. "Any idea what makes this world so special? Anything actually worth protecting?"

Silence.

No one had an answer.

After a moment, Minjae shrugged. "Maybe it's just a distraction for the gods. Like some kind of… experiment. Seeing what a bunch of humans can do when given the right tools."

"Sounds exactly like something an all-powerful being would do," Daion muttered, recalling that twisted smile from before.

But Finn, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up. His voice was unexpectedly firm.

"I disagree."

Everyone turned to look at him.

"There's something special about this world."

He leaned forward slightly, eyes locking onto Daion's.

"Remember that child from earlier? The one who attacked us with… whatever the hell that was?"

Daion nodded. "Yeah… it felt like telekinesis."

"Exactly." Finn narrowed his eyes. "Now tell me… was magic in your world?"

"I Don't remember" Daion answered without hesitation. "But watching him do that so naturally… it definitely felt… off."

A thought lingered in his mind before he finally asked, "Wait… is magic common here?"

Haruka smirked and raised her hand.

From the gemstone on her wrist, a multicolored flame flickered to life, casting vibrant hues across her face.

"You tell me."

Finn leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, deep in thought. "That's what I figured… Omega Energy can be transmuted into many forms, and that's what people call magic."

He paused, frowning. "Though to be honest… I still don't fully understand what it is."

The others nodded silently.

"In my world, magic didn't exist. Same for Haruka and Minjae," he continued, gesturing toward them.

Daion thought he understood where this was going, but he stayed quiet, listening.

"At first, I thought it had to be extremely rare. But then Jack mentioned something… in his world, sorcerers exist."

"For real?" Daion asked, surprised.

"Yeah, but he also said they're incredibly rare—almost nonexistent," Finn explained. "Meanwhile, here, in this world… every single person has the ability to use magic—or rather, Omega Energy."

Daion frowned. The creatures in the forest… Now that he thought about it, they were undeniably mystical.

"That means there's a massive concentration of Omega Energy in this world…"

"Exactly." Finn's expression grew serious. "And that's why it's so important."

Minjae rested his elbows on his knees, fingers intertwined. "The monsters feed on it… they steal it, leaving the land barren and lifeless."

A war over resources… it made sense. The gods must have detected the sheer amount of energy in this world, which was why they couldn't afford to lose it.

But something didn't add up.

Daion's brows knitted together. "If this world is so important… why don't the gods intervene directly?"

Silence.

"they acts in misterius ways?" added sarcastly.

Finn averted his gaze, and an uneasy tension settled over the group.

Finally, Haruka sighed, shrugging. "That's the million-dollar question."

Minjae broke the silence with a grim theory.

"Maybe… they can lose."

Finn turned to him, eyes sharp.

"And if that's the case… what chance do we have?"

No one answered.

A heavy sense of dread settled over them.

Daion clenched his fists. He didn't want to be the one to drag everyone's mood down… but the thought wouldn't leave his mind.

"Then… what exactly are they?"

Finn looked up.

"Corrupted beings. They use Omega Energy, but in a twisted way."

Minjae scoffed. "And they're not just mindless beasts. Some of them are as intelligent as humans…"

A chill ran down Daion's spine.

"The way they wiped out the population…" Minjae murmured, eyes dark. "It proves they're organized."

Finn nodded.

"They even form battalions to overrun cities. They don't act like wild animals… they act like an army."

A heavy silence fell as everyone processed the implications.

"Someone is leading them," Finn continued, his voice low. "And whoever it is… has driven us to the brink of extinction."

His gaze hardened.

"Even with the heroes the gods summon… most don't survive long."

Daion swallowed.

"A leader? Like… a Demon King?"

Finn crossed his arms.

"That's the most likely scenario. But usually, there's more than one."

Haruka let out a sigh, leaning on the table with a wry smile.

"Not exactly the most hopeful revelation… but it's not like we get to choose."

The atmosphere turned somber. No one spoke, but the weight of reality loomed over them like a storm cloud.

Daion lowered his gaze, frustration bubbling inside him. Not only had he woken up with no memories, but everything he'd learned so far pointed to one thing:

He was screwed.

The sound of footsteps broke the silence.

Jack had returned.

The moment he stepped through the door, he scanned their exhausted faces and let out a sigh.

"Quite the warm welcome," Jack said with a smirk. Then, without hesitation, he tossed a bag of coins to each of them—including Daion, though his was noticeably smaller.

Daion caught it midair, frowning.

"What's this?"

"Your cut," Jack shrugged. "You took one down, so you get something."

"But that was just me being reckless," Daion protested, holding the pouch out to return it.

Jack ignored him, his smirk widening.

"Keep it. Consider it a gift—I'm feeling generous today."

Daion hesitated before lowering his hand, eventually tucking the pouch away.

"Money's important. Spend it wisely… though, to be honest, it's not much."

"Uh… thanks, I guess?"

Jack laughed, and despite the lingering tension, the rest of the group couldn't help but crack small smiles. The atmosphere, though heavy, started to lighten.

"Alright, enough of this existential nonsense," Jack declared, slapping the table. "I know exactly how to lift your spirits."

Without another word, he stood up and walked out of the church. The others exchanged uncertain glances before following him.

By now, night had fully claimed the city. Oil lanterns flickered along the streets, casting long, restless shadows over the cobblestone roads. Warm light spilled from the windows of homes, and hushed voices of townsfolk mixed with the gentle whispers of the wind.

Jack led them straight to the one place still bursting with life—Rosie's Haven, the town's busiest inn and tavern.

The moment they stepped inside, silence fell over the room.

The place was packed. Men, women, and even a few children turned to stare at them. Some villagers subtly rested their hands on their weapon hilts, while others narrowed their eyes in open suspicion. A couple of them flexed their fingers, faint glows betraying their readiness to cast magic at the first sign of trouble.

Jack noticed. He just didn't care. He walked straight to the bar without missing a step.

Behind the counter stood a blonde woman with freckled skin and sharp, symmetrical features. Her waist was slim, but her curves were noticeable even under the simple fabric of her tavern attire.

Daion blinked, shaking his head. Not the time to get distracted.

Jack slowly raised his hands, slipping them into his coat. The tension in the room spiked.

Several villagers shifted, ready to react. Daion's group tensed as well.

Then, Jack pulled out… a coin pouch.

With a flick of his wrist, he dropped a couple of gold coins onto the counter with a solid clink.

"Five drinks."

The tension shattered instantly. Murmurs of relief spread through the tavern, followed by a few nervous chuckles—and even some sighs of disappointment.

The bartender gave them a long, scrutinizing look before exhaling.

"Alright, 'heroes,'" she said, dragging the word with clear disdain. "But if you cause even a single problem, the booze stops flowing."

"Understood," Jack replied with an easy grin.

Rolling her eyes, the woman grabbed several mugs and poured their drinks.

"You eating too?"

The group nodded, ordering their meals. Daion, however, hesitated.

"What do you recommend?"

The bartender arched a brow, smirking.

"For heroes like you? The 'special stew.'"

Daion caught Haruka and Finn shaking their heads frantically, looking genuinely unsettled.

"On second thought… I'll just have whatever Jack's having."

The woman clicked her tongue but took the order without another word.

They found a table, and gradually, the tavern returned to its usual rhythm.

As drinks flowed and conversation picked up, Jack suddenly turned to Daion.

"Hell of an entrance you made, huh?" he chuckled. "Literally fell into the middle of our fight and stole our kill."

Daion laughed—albeit a little nervously.

Before long, their food arrived.

The waitress who brought it immediately caught Daion's attention. She had striking blue hair, and atop her head, a pair of feline ears twitched subtly.

A demi-human?

She placed their meals down with smooth, practiced movements. As she turned to leave, Daion noticed a faint mark on her neck—but decided against asking.

The food was incredible. His plate held a thick, juicy slab of meat drenched in a rich, aromatic sauce, with a side that vaguely reminded him of mashed potatoes.

Between bites and sips of his drink, time slipped away unnoticed.

For the first time all day, Daion felt like he could breathe.

The weight on his chest gradually lifted. Just for a moment, he stopped thinking about his missing memories, the monsters, the war, and the gods.

He took another sip, letting the warmth spread through him. A small, quiet smile crossed his lips.

If people could still laugh and celebrate on an ordinary night like this…

Maybe hope wasn't entirely lost.