Chapter 1 It all began with the press of a button (1/2)

At the city gates, a throng of travelers were impatiently waiting for the inspections to be completed so they could enter the city before nightfall. It had been a busy day, with many new faces finding their way to the City of Andor's Edge.

One of the busiest days this month, thought Gries.

He was a city guardsman who was tasked with inspecting the people wishing to enter the large city. It was a mostly thankless job, but it was one of the only options for a third son of a farmer.

”Hey Bren,” he called out to his colleague, ”looks like we're almost finished for today. We heading to the usual place afterwards?”

”And watch you pathetically hit on Francine again? Haha! I wouldn't miss it for the world!”

”Ugh, don't remind me,” groaned the unfortunate guard. ”I don't think she'll ever talk to me again!”

Bren leaned on his spear after the two gate guards returned to their posts, he was thinking about his own failures at finding a good girl he could settle down with. It was difficult for a guard to woo a decent girl, especially when all the girls were too busy fawning over more adventurous types.

”I told you, she has a thing for that seeker - Julias. Every time he's at the tavern, she starts acting all proper!”

Gries didn't want to hear it, but he couldn't deny it. If only I'd been a famous seeker, an explorer, or even a successful pioneer, he sighed while gazing towards the clear blue sky.

Wiping the sweat off his brow due to the burning sun he couldn't help curling his lips in a snarl, ”Those damn seekers, they are all cocky bastards!”

”You're just mad because you aren't one of them! I bet you'd jump at the chance.”

Gries wasn't too happy to hear that, mostly because it was true. He just didn't have what it took to be a seeker. It was dangerous exploring the unknown, opening new paths, fighting monsters on a daily basis. He could fight against men well enough, but monsters were another story, not to mention dangerous dungeons and other unexplored places which were essentially deathtraps.

The disillusioned guardsman looked out into the distance. There seemed to be an endless amount of travelers waiting to enter the city, and evening couldn't come soon enough. The two of them would eventually be relieved from their watch, and then they would be able to enjoy a good drink at the tavern before possibly heading to a brothel.

He continued to idly gaze upon the crowd as he was in no rush to carry out his inspection duties before asking his friend, ”Do you think there is anything else for us out there?”

Curiously, there was no answer from his fellow guard. He shot a quick peek at him and noticed that he was approaching him in a sluggish manner. Gries turned towards him with a look of concern on his face.

”Bren, you okay?”

His friend continued to approach while mumbling something under his breath. His walk was unsteady and wobbly, almost as if he were drunk. Gries could just barely make out the sounds coming from his mouth as he kept drawing closer

”Nine-nine-eight,” he repeated incessantly.

The confused guard was becoming seriously concerned.

”Bren, what the hell is wrong with you?”

He approached his friend cautiously, not knowing what to expect. The stumbling guard had been fine just moments ago, so Gries couldn't fathom what had brought on this sudden change in his demeanor. He reached out to the strangely lethargic guard, placing his hands on his shoulders.

”Bren, snap out of it!”

These were the last words he would ever say. Bren thrust his spear upwards, right through Gries' lower jaw, puncturing his skull and ending his life in an instant. As his blood gushed forth from the wound, Bren continued with a twisted smile.

”998.”

Both their bodies fell to the floor in unison to the sound of screams.

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A dense, swirling mist formed, spiraling out of control and driving more deeply towards its center. It was blindingly cruel in its ferocity as it violently dragged something along in its midst.

It was a strange and powerful soul which was not constrained by the laws which governed this world. It was meant to be reincarnated, but somehow, it had escaped the confines of whatever system was in place for reincarnating souls.

Well, in truth, it was quite a bit more complicated than that.

'I hate this part…'

As the soul swirled furiously towards the center of the strange mist-like world, it was once again able to glimpse images of the past he could never forget.

”Ishmael… I can't believe you actually accomplished it. Is it truly finished?” The soul could feel itself saying surprisingly out of its control.

Bright laughter filled the well lit and spacious room situated towards the top of a tower that reached endlessly into the skies above. The tower was so tall that it had long ago breached the clouds and begun to grasp the very heavens.