CHAPTER 2

Return to the Past (1)

1.

Maple World was a world of adventurers.

Nothing functioned without them.

Every history was written by their hands.

Then, one day, something called the Mystic Gate appeared.

"Beyond the Mystic Gate, there are monsters. Not only the monsters of Maple World but also creatures never before seen in this realm."

Beyond it lay terrifying beasts.

"And there are items—things difficult to obtain in Maple World, and things entirely impossible to find here, existing only in legends and heroic tales."

Items were abundant.

Naturally, adventurers were ecstatic about the Mystic Gate's arrival.

They abandoned their usual quests and rushed toward the new frontier.

Soon, everything in the world revolved around the Mystic Gate.

"In the past, we had to cross mountains, sail across oceans, and tear through the sky for an unforgettable adventure. But now, we just have to find a Mystic Gate that appeared on the nearest hill."

Adventurers called this the greatest era in their history—the era of dreams.

But for those who were not adventurers, things were different.

Such was the case for Elpham.

A twenty-year-old young man working odd jobs in the port city of Lith suddenly lost his livelihood.

Adventurers who once aided in transporting goods abandoned their tasks for the Mystic Gate, causing a drastic decline in available work.

Of course, a twenty-year-old could manage to support himself.

"It's Black Blood Disease. A sickness that makes you cough up blackened blood until you die. Your father has it."

But life was different for a young man with a dying family member.

"A cure? Yes, there is one. You could get it—for about a million mesos."

He needed money.

But for someone as insignificant as Elpham, having a million mesos was unthinkable.

In the end, he signed an outrageous contract just to borrow the money.

Yet, his father still passed away.

"As per the contract, you now belong to the Gafor Trading Company. You're a slave."

And the one left behind became a slave.

"Remember, you're just bait. If you don't lure that monster, you die by our hands instead."

And in the era of the Mystic Gate, there was only one place for slaves—beyond the gate.

Most bait slaves didn't survive past six expeditions before being devoured by monsters.

"This one survived again?"

But Elpham survived.

It wasn't luck.

A slave who lived through their role as bait was only given one option—to be used as bait again.

Despair only led to more despair.

"Eventually, I'll die anyway."

That was the only outcome—being eaten by a monster.

But Elpham's fate changed when a black ring appeared around his left wrist.

The 1st Circle, a prerequisite for adventurers, had awakened.

Naturally, the Gafor Trading Company stopped using him as bait.

Of course, that didn't mean they freed him.

"An adventurer's worth isn't the same as a slave's. Work hard, and you'll pay off your debt eventually. Work hard."

So he worked like a dog.

"Well done. Your debt is now repaid."

It wasn't until three years later—after he had awakened as an adventurer—that he was treated like a human being.

And on the very day he gained his freedom, it began.

"Monsters are pouring out of the Mystic Gate!"

The catastrophe that began to bring down Maple World.

Thus began Elpham's desperate struggle to survive.

"Elpham, are you okay?"

Amidst those battles, he stumbled upon his hidden talent.

"You just used Thunderbolt, didn't you?"

In an effort to save his endangered comrade, he cast Thunderbolt.

It was an insane move.

"But you're a fire attribute mage, aren't you?"

Using a spell outside one's innate attribute was as reckless as playing with fire—it inflicted severe damage to the caster's body.

Elpham knew this. He cast the spell anyway. He couldn't let his comrade die.

"You're seriously fine?"

But contrary to all expectations, he suffered no harm.

"Could it be… you're naturally attuned to two elements?"

At the time, that's what everyone—including Elpham himself—assumed.

"That's incredible."

And that alone was already an extraordinary feat.

"Damn it, the mushrooms are swarming in! Those damned zombie mushrooms! Everyone, get ready for battle!"

But the reality before them left no time for him to explore his abilities.

It took more time before he fully realized his true talent as an All-Master.

"…I can use poison magic too."

When all his comrades were dead, in a moment of desperation, he cast Mist Eruption, a deadly 5th Circle poison spell.

Even knowing that casting it would kill him, he did it.

But standing unharmed within the suffocating poison mist, he finally understood.

"I can use them all."

He possessed the talent of an All-Master.

From that moment, Elpham's fate changed.

The All-Master.

He became a powerful mage.

The Infinite Sorcerer, the Shadow Butterfly Hunter, the Balrog Slayer… countless titles were attached to his name.

But his circumstances never changed.

Slay a powerful monster, and an even stronger one would take its place.

Fighting for his life remained a necessity, and things only worsened.

Survival only earned him new titles.

That was all.

There was nothing left for him.

He merely stood alone, staring at his so-called glory.

Even now.

"Ah…"

Elpham looked up at the sky.

There, Horntail flapped its wings, soaring away.

It had lost one of its three heads.

But it wasn't a victory.

Horntail couldn't die unless all three heads were severed.

Given time, it would regenerate and return.

This wasn't triumph—just borrowed time.

"I survived alone."

At the cost of all his comrades' lives.

Elpham didn't despair.

"Just like always."

He had drowned in this kind of despair too many times to count. It wasn't worth dwelling on anymore.

He rose to his feet.

And he prepared.

"Next time, I'll hunt it."

He would take all of Horntail's heads and claim the title of Horntail Slayer.

Whether it was possible or not didn't matter.

Fighting monsters was the only way to survive in this world.

The last adventurer of this era, Elpham, stood up.

"I need to find some items."

And he started planning.

"First, Victoria Island. Sheryl's Resistance fought there—her squad's items should be gathered there."

Step by step, he plotted his course to hunt Horntail.

"If I can get my hands on Gerekter's collection from the Cross Hunters… I can improve my tactics. If that's not enough, I'll head to Edelstein. The Resistance supposedly hid Aran's polearm in their base's vault…"

Then—

His legs suddenly gave out.

It wasn't an attack.

"Ah."

His body simply wouldn't move.

Not because of any external force.

His mind commanded his legs to move, but they didn't.

"I'm… out of strength."

He had none left.

Not even the strength to stand.

With a thud, Elpham collapsed like a puppet with severed strings.

And yet, he wasn't startled.

"So, it's time."

When death came, it always arrived like this.

"Just like them."

He had seen it too many times.

"A last word…"

He knew what dying people did.

"But no one's here to hear mine."

Unlike his fallen comrades, who had him to listen to their last words, no one remained for him.

The only thing he could do was tell his own story to himself.

"A lot has happened…"

And so, his memories began.

With that moment.

"It all started then."

The day he awakened as an adventurer.

"The day I got slapped."

2.

SMACK!

As Elpham lifted his head, something struck him hard across the face.

"Wake up, you bastard!"

A sudden curse, a sudden slap.

Dazed, Elpham looked up at the man who had hit him.

The muscular man glared down at him. Then, without hesitation, he slapped him again.

SMACK!

"You damn slave! Who the hell do you think you're glaring at?! Get up! Now!"

Only then did Elpham rise.

But his mind wasn't clear.

His face was devoid of expression, and his eyes were unfocused.

Because—

'What is this?'

He was recalling his past.

He was supposed to be dying, lost in faded memories.

'Why does this hurt? Why is it so vivid?'

But this felt nothing like a distant memory.

'This feels… real.'

His swollen cheek, the metallic taste of blood from his split lip—this wasn't just a recollection.

And then—

"Throw the bait in!"

A sudden command.

A boot struck Elpham's back.

THUD!

He collapsed face-first into the dirt.

And as he looked up—

"The Orange Mushrooms are coming!"

Hundreds of Orange Mushrooms charged toward him like a stampede of raging bulls.

"Ah."

Seeing this, Elpham felt a greater shock.

Not because of the monsters.

For him, monsters were like trees in a forest—just a part of life.

'This is real.'

He recognized this moment.

'This is that day.'

Not just any memory—an unforgettable one.

Of course.

'The day I awakened my 1st Circle as a bait slave.'

The day his fate changed.

The day the last adventurer was born.

Elpham was shocked because he realized the truth.

'I've… returned to the past.'

He had regressed.