He was here again.

A world so unimaginably horrific and yet existed somewhere in reality.

The screams of horror, the wails of hell, and the scenes of carnage. 

It was all here. 

An overflowing graveyard of the unburied; hundreds of thousands and thousands and thousands of corpses were strewn.

They piled in mountains, formed rivers, too many to count, and yet were littered and splattered like jigsaws and waves under the unceasing havocs of war.

Towering the fields of blood were figures from the ages of apocalypse.

Skyscraping monsters, sizes reaching heights of gargantuan dinosaurs, trampled, crushed, killed, everything in their passage of wake.

Their appearances were too monstrous to be described as oversized animals or beasts. 

And their sentience was nothing but instinctive.

Such abominations must have been a mistake from birth. 

On the other side, he was there. 

Past the crenellations of the forts, on the mortal field of slaughter. 

He was only one amongst the millions of the motherland, banded together. 

From afar he saw, the comrades assembled further in, swarming together to fight back the plague of destruction. 

In the face of the common enemy that threatened the entire extinction of all kind, there was no disharmony and only unity.

From this distance, they resembled a storm of hungry locusts, travelling through a farmfield of 'dessert'.

And yet to his perspective, they resembled a storm of dead locusts, dropping like flies upon confronting the planes that bombed insecticide. 

The tallying death toll was ever-increasing.

Nauseating stenches reeked from the odours of death.

Enough to induce the sensitive noses to be caught in a fit of coughs and some to puke, apart from the pain and hellish scenery.  

The succulent tissues and pungent smells of bodies allured pests to scavenge over like rats, but they merely settled to pick off the bodies far from the field. Otherwise, they would simply be inviting their eradication in this land of disaster. 

Throbbing his ears were not only the drums of war.

There were also the cacophonies from the deafening cries of the people, roaring of monsters, and the racing beatings of his very own heart. 

At one point, he had collapsed from the exhaustion of slaughter.

He stared at the sky, which could only be described as muddy.

The dark clouds loomed overhead, tainted and bloodied with a crimson overlay.

Judging the forecast, the first thing he hoped for was for the sky to not rain.

As this place, only rained with droplets of blood. 

There was no such thing as rain without blood. 

Nor was there a natural sun and moon above this place.

“THE BLOOD RAIN IS COMING!!”

Unfortunately, his prayers were betrayed. 

Once word was caught from ear, the words were spread and repeated like a wildfire.

Everyone halted their advancement, and began to run like chickens towards the nearest bases, protection formations, and the alike. 

The united kind were crumbling, pushing, and shoving as they squirmed to their safety nets. 

Some of the malicious ones, who cared for only their safety, revealed their vile natures and used their peers as bait to fend off the approaching monsters.  

In the heat of panic, the inexperienced and weak were ravaged from their moments of distraction, and many were killed before the ensuing next phase of chaos. 

He was not idle for a second. 

Jumping to his feet in alarm, he shouted at the top of his lungs of the impending catastrophe.

Then he bolted around and aided his nearby comrades. In preparation to deploy and settle in the protective barrier. 

“THE BLOOD RAIN IS FALLING!!”

 

 

The weight of those words felt a thousandfold heavier than the slumped elderly soldier he held on his back.

Twisting his neck to look behind, he saw the crimson sky running a deeper red than ever before. 

And the drops of red, calmly drizzling.

What came out of his mouth and resounded in his ears were the shrilling screams of incarcerated captives in the very depths of hell.

He knew in his heart—

 

—No words could describe this place better than 'hell' and 'chaos'.

 

***

 

“Haah . . . Haaah . . .  Haah . . .”

Dalis roused from the bed of his dormitory. His cheeks were wet, and his body was bathed in cold sweat. One of his arms was already clutched to his robe, close to his heart. 

He squinted in a daze. The sunlight filtering through the windows left a criss-crossing pattern on his face. Feeling the warmth, he took liberty to bask in the morning rays. 

The sheets were a twisted mess around his limbs, probably because he was thrashing in his sleep. 

On reflex, he rested his hand on his forehead as he tried to settle and relax his breathing. He thought back to the abysmal nightmare he managed to wake up from.

But it was the same as always: futile.

He could not recall anything that happened.

At the very least, the emotions that welled from his dreadful experience were still vivid and palpable. 

The nightmare he had experienced was a dream stemmed from his lost memories.

Or at least that was what he believed. 

They weren’t always this bad though. Most of the time when he was woken, he was doused with a feeling of nostalgia.

As for whether that was a good thing, he was unsure or rather, he did not want to think about it. 

Ugghh. Today is not going to be a good day. I can sense it. 

He glanced at the door. The familiar loud sounds of running footsteps were approaching. 

"How much longer do you plan to continue sleeping Daaaaaaliiissss?!"

With an audible thud of the door, the doorstop hitting the wall, a girl came into the room. 

Thumping the floor with her steps, she stared down at him with a grumpy look. 

The girl's name was Stilla. 

She had brown, bobbed shoulder-length hair with vivid green eyes. 

Her body was toned, defined with muscle where needed, and balanced. It was shaped through work and served as physical proof of her capabilities. 

Consequently, this accentuated her softer curvier parts. This meant that one 'notable' part was unexpectedly . . . still developing, considering their already impressive size given her age.

"How noisy . . . " Dalis mumbled careful not to invite a beating—this was not a girl Dalis would usually disobey if he had a choice. 

One look at her expression and Dalis knew what was coming. 

It wasn't that Dalis feared Stilla. It was more to do with regards to the physical punishments that she had in store. Furthermore and most importantly, he couldn't be bothered.  

“You actually managed to wake up before I got here. So strange, it must be because of Sister Edna. Since you love sleeping so much.” 

Her words flustered Dalis to furtively remove the beads of sweat that she may notice. To aid his deceit, he began to mutter complaints to mask his actions.

He did not wish to worry her. 

"What are you mumbling about?" Stilla asked in a voice laced with annoyance. 

"Let's go," Dalis stated. 

Dalis stood up from the bed and slipped past Stilla, who continued to view him with hawk eyes. He headed towards the usual hall where they ate their morning breakfast.

"Always doing what he pleases! Wait for me!" Stilla grumbled, and then quickly followed Dalis from behind.

"Stop running in the hallway." Dalis lazily turned his head to see Stilla who had caught up with him.

"I wasn't running! I was jogging! You left me behind!" she angrily retorted. 

"Yeah yeah," he casually remarked. You were running to our room before you came in, by the way.

He slowed down his speed to match her pace. The two walked side by side, idly chatting until they reached the dining hall. 

The dining hall of the Caleyar Orphanage would make anyone feel surprised by its large interior. Although the Caleyar Orphanage was, indeed, an orphanage, the institution was quite excellent in quality. 

After all, it was an orphanage that not only takes in children who have lost their homes, but also a facility that educates children and trains them for real-life combat. 

In particular, the Dining hall was one of the few places of the Orphanage one would be able to encounter other children that you wouldn't be able to normally see easily. 

This was because each dozen or more children would be supervised by a Sister. 

Considering that there are over two thousand children, this would mean having at least a hundred sisters. To be able to hold that amount of people, only areas such as the Dining hall would be applicable. 

"Hurry, look everybody is waiting," Stilla said, dragging him with one arm to their designated table. 

When they approached the table, they saw a few unpleasant faces coming from their roommates. Some of the children began to voice out on their arrival. 

"Ah look Dalis is getting dragged in again by Stilla~" 

"Haha ha . . . she really pampers him, doesn't she?" 

"It's about time. I can finally eat . . . " 

" . . . That insect."

"Ahhh, sorry everybody for the wait," Stilla apologised on behalf. 

"It's fine, it only happens from time to time. Besides, our group is hardly religiously strict, in regards to such practices," Sister Edna kindly said.

Dalis's group was one of the many combat-oriented orphan groups. In the future, they will be tested to become soldiers-in-training. From that point, they would be eligible to take the next step—become Vanquish Soldiers. 

Vanquish Soldiers are often referred to as ‘Vanquishers’. 

Thus, the Church did not endorse the rites of the Church heavily onto them, nor were they required to be devout to the Church. 

This is mainly due to the complications pertaining to people's backgrounds since they are not all solely from Church soil or picked up. Though the majority of children, or ‘Orphans’ they could be referred to as, are genuine orphans that have been taken in. 

One instance is the issue with Mana seeds that each individual had. 

Mana seeds tend to dictate one's background, so those with a ‘blessed mana seed’ are likely to originate from the Church. While those who don't are likely to be residents of other nations. If so, they're boarding children who have applied for an internship program.

Stilla and Dalis sat quickly on to the vacant seats of the table. Despite being empty, the seats were not really vacant: the spots were tacitly reserved. 

When they were seated, Sister Edna clapped her hands in attention. 

"Now everyone let us recite before we eat: May Caleyar, bless upon our mortal selves."

Everyone: "May Caleyar, bless upon our mortal selves."

"Good, now you may all dine-in!"

. . .

. . .

"Mmmm today's food is also very delicious. Thank you, Sister Edna!" Stilla cheerfully exclaimed, as she proceeded to take small-sized bites out of her sandwich and tangy mayonnaise-dressed salad. 

Stilla always took small-sized mouthfuls in order to savour the food she eats. However, it was a whole ‘nother different story when there was more food on the table . . . 

"Yep, it is good as always,” Allen agreed. 

"Yum yum yum, Sister Edna is the best!" Stephanie also agreed. 

"It's not half bad.”

"Hey, be more appreciative Koji!" Jessica reprimanded. 

"It is my pleasure," Sister Edna kindly responded. She looked at everyone eating their food. She always felt satisfied after watching people enjoy the food she made.

“Big Sister will be back in a moment.” Having remembered there was something she needed to ask from another fellow Sister, Sister Edna departed. 

"Stilla," Dalis called.

"Hmm? What is it Dalis?"

"Your face." He pointed to where pieces of food had clumsily stuck to her face.

"Ah!" Stilla let out a gasp. 

She placed her utensils on the table and then quickly reached to pick up the handkerchief to wipe off the grains. Her face flushed a little in embarrassment. 

"Thank you Dalis."

The nonchalant Dalis took this opportunity to mock her. "Such a waste of delicacy, you always admonish me if I don't finish eating my supper, ‘big sister’. Perhaps I should have wiped it off for you." 

"Eh?" 

TING!

The fork and knife used by the blonde boy named Melvin Serven, sitting next to Stilla, suddenly fell onto the plate. Chatters began to stir up from the table. 

"Oh boy."

"Here it comes again."

"Melvin and Dalis?"

"Good thing that I haven't finished my breakfast, this needed some extra spice."

"Hmph." 

The table went silent as a dismissive scoff echoed from beside Stilla. 

An impatient tapping rhythmically rang out, time slowed, and the air grew still.

Melvin straightened his back, right hand raised above his mouth, and his left slowly picked up the knife he had dropped. He looked down upon the shorter Dalis before swerving his head away from him as if he were disgusted by the mere sight. 

"It appears a little boy has accidentally found his way to the grown-up table. My neck would hurt if I were to bend it enough to see you down there. Go on now and return to whence you came," said Melvin while he elegantly tried to cover up his dropped utensils.

"If you're so worried about bending your neck . . . I could show you Stilla's massage technique she demonstrated to me the other day," Dalis casually remarked, unfazed.  

"When did I—"

"Oh? A massage technique? I'd be delighted, but I doubt a pipsqueak like you would be able to satisfy me." Melvin then ignored Dalis before focusing his attention towards Stilla, lowering his head and mustering in a voice as suave as he could achieve—

"Would you provide me with the honour to witness your massaging technique?"

Stilla's expression flashed in apprehension but quickly returned to a smile before Melvin could move his head up to see.

Dalis wore an expression of bewilderment. He turned back to his food and chose wisely to wash his hands off of Melvin's perversion.

Most of the other spectators felt the same as Dalis, returning to their food as if nothing happened. Though, they were clearly whispering between themselves. 

As Melvin continued to bother Stilla, Sister Edna had returned to the table to find nothing out of the ordinary. 

I have yet to check my stats for today. It would be quite rude to open the window here, but a mysterious compulsion is compelling me. How peculiar . . .

Thankfully, accessing the system window was invisible by default. Dalis helplessly opened the stats page. 

 

 

No silent stats gained.  They’re difficult to obtain after all. 

Trying not to catch attention, he scrolled down the daily quest list and opened a particular quest.

 

 

Dalis’s lips crept to form a smile. 

It was such a silly quest without any real reward. But he knew it would make Sister Edna happy. For someone like him who really loved to sleep, it seemed like an impossible task. Surprisingly enough, he has managed to still maintain this quest intact after it was tasked to him four months ago. 

Yes, it made him happy too.

Whether it was accidentally or something done subconsciously, his eyes hovered over to another quest separated from the daily quest list.

[Destiny Quest]

Dong! 

Dong!

Dalis felt his entire being quake as his hands trembled in trepidation, almost dropping the fork heading to his mouth.

He mindlessly read the sudden System notifications.

 

 

Dalis was about to reflexively accept the next line. Yet, what was written there was . . .

'The System will display to you the extracted result regardless of your will.'

Before he could react. 

The tiny message was presented.

[Ț̶̿́͘w̶̻̝͆͘͘o̶͈͝ ̵͚̬̏̊y̵̭̒̅e̷̺͠a̴̢͚͕̅͆͂r̶̠̬̓ͅs̴̙̗̿͐]