A Knock at the Door

Rather than returning to the road, Edric chose a different path. According to the female ghost, the roads were safe. But Edric was strong—strong enough to protect himself. He had no need for the road's safety.

Step by step, he ventured deeper into the forest, swallowed by complete darkness. The pale green moonlight barely pierced through the dense canopy.

But darkness meant nothing to Edric. Everything was as clear as day to his eyes.

From time to time, wild, starving predators—both animals and ghosts—set their sights on him. Yet, none ever reached him. They perished before they could even lay a hand on him.

...

After five days of wandering through the forest, Edric still hadn't encountered a single Silver-ranked ghost. After his encounter with the female ghost, he had expected Silver-ranked ghosts to be more common than this.

"I'm hiding my aura, so they should assume I'm just an ordinary person… Then why are there so few high-ranking ghosts?" He frowned, feeling a tinge of disappointment.

Over the past few days, countless Average and Great-ranked ghosts had attacked him, along with a few Great-ranked beasts. The beasts, lacking intelligence, were swiftly slain. As for the ghosts, he had attempted to interrogate them, but none knew more than the female ghost he had spoken to days ago.

"It seems I should take this more seriously," he thought. Up until now, he had simply been walking, hoping to stumble upon powerful ghosts. He had made no real effort to seek them out. But with his skills and rank, if he truly tried, finding a Silver-ranked ghost would be easy.

"Flight!"

Muttering the spell, he soared into the sky.

Once airborne, he activated mana detection. Ghosts were magical mages, overflowing with mana—if there was a Silver-ranked one nearby, he would find it.

Gliding through the night sky, it took him only five minutes to sense a powerful Silver-grade mana signature emanating from deep within the forest.

Smirking, he shot toward it at full speed.

...

Orrin was once a Silver Knight. Unfortunately, he had died in battle.

His soul had nearly dissipated, fading into nothingness, but by sheer luck, a trace of aura from the Greed Fountain had contaminated him, transforming him into a Silver-ranked ghost.

That was a long time ago. How long exactly? He had no idea. 

After awakening as a Silver-ranked ghost, Orrin wandered into the depths of the forest and decided to build a permanent wooden house where he could live in solitude—and that's exactly what he did.

With the rise of the Greenblade Queen recently, things had changed. Ghosts, once wild and untamed, were now bound by her will, forced to follow her laws and respect treaties with humans—agreements that outlined territorial rights, obligations, and responsibilities.

But for Orrin, none of that mattered.

He was just a simple, reclusive ghost, living in isolation deep within the forest.

Unlike others of his kind, he never hunted humans. Not because he was noble or righteous—far from it. In life, he had been a ruthless bandit chief, a killer of many.

But he knew the truth about ghosts and their so-called hunger.

Ask any low-ranked ghost, and they would swear that consuming human souls was necessary for survival—that without them, they would suffer an unbearable hunger, a torment beyond imagination.

Only half of that was true.

Ghosts did feel hunger if they did not consume human souls. But they wouldn't die from it. A ghost could live its entire existence without ever devouring a single soul.

The reason so many ghosts believed otherwise was the same reason drug addicts thought they would die without their fix.

Not that human souls were like drugs to ghosts.

They were simply the most efficient, nourishing, and—above all—pleasurable source of sustenance. So pleasurable that once a ghost tasted one, resisting the urge for more became nearly impossible.

The forbidden fruit.

Those who never consumed human souls had an easier time resisting. But for those who indulged even once? The dam broke, and there was no rebuilding it.

That was why Orrin had stayed away.

He knew himself too well. The moment he took even a single soul, he would never stop. He would no longer be content tending to his quiet life. He would become a hunter, forever chasing prey.

Instead, he chose solitude.

Rather than feasting on humans, he sustained himself on the lifeforce of trees. It was tasteless, far from satisfying, but it was enough to keep him alive and maintain his Silver rank.

In his free time, he tended to his small garden outside his home and wrote poetry. Over the countless years, he had filled over a thousand books.

In life, he had only become a Silver Knight because of his legendary talent—he had been pushed into it. But it had never been his passion.

His true love had always been nature's beauty and the art of poetry.

Once, as a human, he had even dreamed of romance. But now, as a ghost, he knew better.

He had heard the stories. Every attempt at love between ghosts ended in misery.

To put it simply, ghosts were not meant for romance.

It always ended with one killing the other.

Just as he avoided humans, Orrin also kept his distance from other ghosts.

There were downsides, of course—one of the worst being his endless hunger for more. More poetry books, more lifeforce, more of anything that caught his interest. It was an unquenchable thirst, a side effect of being tainted by Greed Essence.

Ghosts born from greed were never truly satisfied. No matter how much they had, they always craved more of what they cherished most.

But Orrin had learned to control those urges. He had trained himself to resist, to keep his desires in check. He knew he could never feel true satisfaction—no ghost of greed ever could—but he had pushed himself as close to it as possible.

And for him, that was enough.

...

Orrin opened his eyes, awakening from a deep sleep.

"What an amazing dream… A shame it was just a dream," he thought with a sigh.

Ghosts had no bodies, no eyes, no need for sleep, and certainly no dreams. That was their natural state—the factory setting, so to speak.

But factory settings could be changed.

As a Silver-ranked mage, Orrin instinctively knew many spells. Given enough time, he could even create new ones, unique only to him.

And so he did.

He crafted Silver spells that granted him a temporary physical body and allowed him to sleep—to dream.

He dreamed of whatever he wished.

He had even attempted to create spells to suppress his greed. Unfortunately, they had little effect. The curse of his greed was too deeply ingrained, too powerful to be solved with mere Silver-grade magic.

Likewise, he had tried spells to restore human emotions, to allow himself to feel true satisfaction again. He had even tried to rekindle the ability to love—to make romance possible once more.

Most of those attempts failed.

Now, he had a physical body, yet he remained too afraid to return to human society.

The first reason was simple—the Greenblade Queen had forbidden it.

The second was that deep down, he knew that if he stayed among humans for too long, he would break the taboo, lose control, and taste the forbidden fruit.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Hmm? What the hell?" Orrin frowned.

As a ghost, he could sense everything within a hundred-meter radius. Yet, according to his instincts, there was nothing outside.

And yet, someone had knocked.

That could only mean one thing—whoever was out there had the ability to evade the detection of a Silver-ranked ghost. A feat far beyond the abilities of ordinary Silver ranks.

Slowly, he stepped toward the door.

His expression remained calm. A small defensive formation surrounded his home, giving him the advantage in any battle. Whether the door was open or closed mattered little.

If something was coming, he would be ready.

Then, he opened the door.

Standing before him was a boy, no older than seventeen or eighteen, with striking red hair and vivid green eyes.

"Who are you?" Orrin's voice carried a cautious edge.

Something about this boy was unnatural.

Even though Orrin could see him with his eyes, his senses detected nothing. It was as if the boy did not exist, as if he were more of a ghost than Orrin himself.

The boy smiled sheepishly. "I am Edric, a humble fruit picker. I got lost in the forest after being distracted by a beautiful pink butterfly! Could you please let me in?" His expression turned pitiful, his eyes pleading as if he were helpless.

Orrin narrowed his gaze. "A fruit picker? Lost? In this part of the forest?"

There were only two possibilities.

One—Edric was far more powerful than he appeared, deliberately concealing his strength. In that case, rejecting him might be unwise.

Two—he possessed a unique ability that allowed him to remain undetectable. If so, Orrin needed to learn more about it.

After a brief pause, he stepped aside. "Hmm… Alright, come in."

"Thank you!" Edric beamed and walked inside without hesitation.

As the door shut behind him, Edric turned. "What's your name?"

"Orrin."

"Nice to meet you, Orrin! Sorry I didn't bring anything as a gift!" Edric said casually, while Orrin fought to keep his mind from wandering to dangerous thoughts—thoughts of devouring this boy's soul.

"No. Stay in control," he thought.

Edric suddenly clapped his hands together. "Orrin, I have a few questions!"

Orrin stared at him, resisting the urge to scoff.

"This brat… He just walked into my home, asking for shelter, and now he wants to interrogate me? Shouldn't I be the one asking the questions?!"

But in the end, curiosity and caution won over irritation.

He crossed his arms and smirked. "Of course. What do you want to ask?"