Gil tore a sharpened piece of bone from the warrior's leg, and man groaned.

- The last - he exhaled and looked around. A place on a hill, from which a wonderful view of the mountain peaks, quiet and gloomy, stood on the horizon. Clouds gathered above them, driven by strong gusts of wind. It was Haldmir . Part of the world, covered with snow, tormented by endless storms and blizzards. Abnormal weather, harsh conditions, even compared to the unfriendly Gilfors , left the lands untouched. Not even monsters lived there before… Before.

This creature lay under the rocky hill. Surrounded by many symbols, it formed a circle of light haze. It didn't take a genius or monster connoisseur to figure out just how poisonous these miasma were. The grass had already turned yellow and crumbled, barely touching the suffocating fog. The battle with this creature claimed the lives of at least a hundred inhabitants of this world, although they were all here voluntarily and understood what they were doing, the loss was great.

Pitiful fragments remained of the army, for all these ten years of travel, the goal was still so far away.

“We must continue, if we stop now, we will definitely lose. This bastard is gaining strength, attacks are becoming more frequent… And these creatures, Goddess save us. I never saw the dead continue to writhe in agony, even decaying bodies, life had to leave them. Damn you, Lord of Darkness!” His thoughts were interrupted by a voice, loud but muffled.

- Do you still think we're on the right track? Are you sure about this, Gil ? - Said the man sitting on the stone. His hair hid his rough face, still covered in blood from the battle. The drops began to dry, settling on his bare, muscular torso - I told you it wasn't clean. But you kept rushing, wasting all those lives, look what your blind faith has led to!

Gil clenched his fists, his red armor creaking with the power running through his body, ready to activate profound energy and charge at the man.

- Shut up, Ner!

- Why would I? Can you tell their families the same? We are embroiled in another world's war, there is no point! This lord of darkness sat in his snowy ass, on his ass, and did not touch anyone until we appeared here and took the first step! The goddess leads us by the nose, forcing us to sacrifice everything, even newfound friends! And if this is really a war of heroes, where are the others?! Where is the monk? Where is the mage? Why exactly do we have to fight?!

- I told you to shut up - Gil rushed forward, already raising his fist, as he was stopped by a short, slender woman.

- Stop! Haven't we lost enough people today! - Her hair, reaching to her shoulders, was a mess, and the long edges of her robe braided his armor, leaving blood stains on it - If you have any strength left, better help move the wounded!

- Forgive El, I, I got angry ... - Gil looked down, he could not resist her. A priestess of the Goddess who showed him the true path. Real kindness, deep relationships, complete integrity. She could not even kill a demi-human who was ready to tear her to pieces.

Ner fell silent and looked at the ground, indulging in bitter thoughts. Over the years, he has lost everyone he loved. First in one world, now in this one. All he has left is a small party of four. Warrior Gil , thirsty for retribution, surrendered to the will of the Goddess. Nice fellow, but too straightforward. El, a kind girly priestess who wants peace in the world, he has never met such a naive person. Zwei , a cold and lonely archer who will never leave a comrade in trouble. And he himself. The first of the heroes. The one who is cursed for eternal battles. Berserker.

Once upon a time, Ner dreamed of quickly sorting out the problem, returning to his world, asking Airia to resurrect his family. But a year later, he realized how weak he was. Then he lost his first friend...

- Sorry, Gil - He got up and stomped to a shallow stream to wash off the blood from himself and think about the future.

El returned to the wounded, along with other priestesses, they walked between the ranks of the fallen soldiers, looking for those who needed to be helped first. Many lost limbs, their bodies were covered with lacerations, their bones were crushed. But worst of all was the curse of the beast. The flesh slowly rotted, even amputation did not always help. The infection penetrated the flesh, making its way deeper and deeper, as if reaching for the vital energy of the victim's heart. Only a high-level blessing could destroy it.

“If only I were stronger…” She had double vision, the mana loss was too high, even for the chosen one. The battle exhausted El, but she continued to heal and heal the wounded.

Other priestesses lost consciousness in the ranks, their zeal was brought up from childhood, in many orphanages and monasteries, where faith was instilled in them, and wise mentors shared their most secret skills in order to alleviate the suffering of this world. And now their zeal forced them to spend all their energy on such a complex ritual that Saint El had taught them. She set the example and they followed it.

On her knees, El breathed heavily as she finished healing one of the soldiers.

“A couple more minutes and he would have been dead… But his legs, I couldn't save them…” Someone picked her up and carried her to the tents.

- You've done enough; you need to rest.

- But Gil ! There are so many, I must help! - She protested, waving her unruly hands.

- If you die here, it will all be in vain. Remember, you don't have a limiter... You have to take care of yourself. At least for my sake…

When he lowered her onto the camp bed, El tried to get up, but her legs would not obey, and her eyelids were filled with lead. Sleep took her into his arms.