RE: ZERON I will return for you, even in million times

The world that changed overnight

​

​The world of galam was once a place where various races lived in harmony. Guided by the Prime Spirits and the blessings they bestowed upon all living things, countless nations and kingdoms flourished in an era of unprecedented abundance.

​That peace shattered over a hundred years ago. Great wars erupted within the borders of the Zeron kingdom, leaving nothing but devastation in their wake. Over a hundred million lives were lost during five years of relentless conflict. The chaos only ceased with the death of the King of zeron, the man who had held the four provinces in an iron grip.

​The war left a legacy of poverty. With natural resources depleted and the brightest leaders dead, the nation struggled to reclaim its former glory. Even now, the scars of that era remain etched into the land.

​This is Hayem City. Once a wealthy hub teeming with resources and vibrant commerce, it is now a skeleton of its former self—a sprawling slum where sturdy buildings are a myth. Broken houses, murky rivers, and parched earth are all that remain. Life here is a constant struggle, yet the residents have no choice but to stay; the lands beyond the city walls are infested with bandits and monsters.

​For a century, this has been the refuge for war survivors and their descendants, all just trying to endure.

​My name is Aren. I'm sixteen years old, a typical citizen of Hayem working as a town guard. It's a thankless job. Bandits constantly raid our meager crops, and every night is a desperate struggle to protect the little we have left. It's dangerous work—every time I head out to fight, I never know if I'll make it back alive.

​To be honest, there's nothing good about this place. But I was born here, so I'll likely die here. To cope with the monotony, I spend my free time at the local tavern, drowning my frustrations in ale.

​"I'm so sick of living like this," I muttered, staring into my glass.

​As I drank, a young woman entered the beer house. She had snow-white hair and wore a simple white dress. She didn't look like a local; she had the polished air of a traveler from a distant town.

​She walked straight to the counter and asked if they sold milk. I couldn't take my eyes off her—there was something... different about her. The bartender gave her a baffled look, informing her that they only served alcohol.

​"You won't find milk in a beer house, miss. Only booze here."

​Disappointment clouded her face. She then asked for hot chocolate, but the bartender's answer remained the same. After a brief, stubborn argument, the bartender lost his patience and kicked her out, telling her not to come back. She had no choice but to leave, looking utterly defeated.

​"What a weird girl," I whispered.

​Hours later, stumbling slightly from the alcohol, I began the trek back to my dilapidated shack. Suddenly, a man with a black cloth covering his face slammed into me. The impact wasn't heavy, but it was enough to make me stagger back.

​"Ah, my apologies! I didn't mean to," he stammered before scurrying off.

​I took a few more steps toward home before my hand brushed my pocket. It was empty. My pulse spiked—my wallet was gone. I spun around and saw the man sprinting away.

​"Hey! Wait! Did you take my wallet? Hey!" I yelled.

​I gave chase, but he was fast, weaving through the cramped alleyways of the slums. We ran in circles until he vanished into the shadows. My lungs burned, and the alcohol made my legs feel like lead. I collapsed to my knees on the dark pavement, gasping for air. He was gone. My money was gone.

​A wave of self-loathing hit me. It's hard enough to earn a living in this town, which is exactly why it's crawling with thieves. Now, I'd have to work double shifts just to afford a meal. I was beyond exhausted.

​As I finally reached my doorstep, I reached for my pocket again, only for a fresh wave of horror to wash over me. My house keys were in that wallet.

​"You've got to be kidding me! I hate this world!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

​"I hate it! I absolutely hate this world!" another voice screamed in perfect unison with mine.

​I froze. A few feet away, the girl in the white dress was standing in the middle of the street, looking absolutely livid. We stared at each other in stunned silence for a long moment.

​"Wait... you're the 'milk girl' from the tavern," I said.

​"Ugh. Why is there no milk or chocolate in this town? This place is the worst!" she complained, ignoring my comment.

​I sighed, leaning against a wall. "You won't find milk at night, especially not in a place like that. I agree, though—this place sucks. But we don't exactly have a steady supply of luxuries here."

​I looked her up and down. "Aren't you a traveler? You should know that stuff is only available in the capital or the major trade hubs."

​"Oh... I don't know much about the towns lately. I've been asleep for almost a century."

​I stared at her, unsure if she was joking or just crazy. Before I could respond, she stepped closer. She told me she hadn't eaten since yesterday and explained that she was traveling to find information about the Seven Warriors of Destruction.

​The Seven Warriors were the leaders of the Black Scorpion group—the ones responsible for igniting the wars in Irysh a hundred years ago. They had decimated provinces and assassinated lords. Rumors said they sought the twelve Celestial Items; others said they just wanted conquest. Regardless, history claimed they all perished after the war.

​"You're traveling just for that?" I asked. "Why do you care about them?"

​"Because my siblings made a lot of mistakes," she said casually. "Especially when they created those Spirit Items and scattered them across the world. It gave mortals too much power, and that's when the destruction started."

​She rambled on about how Celestial Items were treasures of the Prime Fairies, given to humans just to see what would happen. It sounded like a drunken fairy tale.

​"Look, it's starting to drizzle," I interrupted. "You should head home before the rain picks up."

​"I don't have a home. Or money," she replied bluntly. "I walked seven days from the south just to get to Hayem."

​I let out a dry laugh. She was asking for milk in a bar without a single coin to her name. As the rain intensified, I sighed and pointed to my shack. "Fine. You can take shelter in my place until the rain stops. But you leave as soon as it's over."

​Since I didn't have my keys, I had to shoulder the door open. I lit a small gas lamp on the table and pulled a piece of bread from the cabinet. Even in a dump like this, I couldn't just let a guest starve.

​"It's not much, but it'll keep you going tonight."

​The alcohol was finally winning the battle for my consciousness. I slumped onto my bed as she sniffed the bread suspiciously before taking a bite.

​"Do you know anything about the Black Scorpion leaders?" she asked between bites. "I've tracked down six of them with the help of the spirits. I only need the seventh to complete my study."

​"Spirits? The seventh?" I mumbled, my eyes drifting shut. "Are you serious right now?"

​She didn't stop. She talked about "fixing the world" to prevent the war that ruined everything. To her, the current world was too "ugly" to enjoy. She wanted to go back to the beginning and stop the catastrophe before it ever started.

​"Sure, whatever," I slurred. "The world is ugly. Food is trash, and booze is too expensive. If you can change it, go for it. Why should we suffer for mistakes made a hundred years ago?"

​She sat on the edge of my bed, her eyes bright. "So, you agree with me?"

​"Of course. Who likes living like this? I curse this life every single day."

​I didn't really care; I was just talking to a pretty girl while half-asleep. But she seemed genuinely moved. She admitted she had been doubting herself, wondering if she was just wasting her time.

​"I've been traveling for over a year," she said softly. "If you're truly sick of this ugly world, then help me save this country."

​I chuckled. She sounded like a child with a wild imagination. Thinking it was all a game, I played along.

​"Sure. Why not? Let's go change this ugly world together," I said, my eyes finally closing.

​The next morning, habit kicked in. I groaned, rolling over to get ready for my shift as a guard. But as I stood up, I slammed my forehead directly into a door.

​"Ow! Wait... why is there a door here?"

​I rubbed my head and looked around. This wasn't my shack. I was standing in a clean, well-furnished room. My heart began to race. Did I break into someone's house in my drunken stupor last night?

​Panicked, I fumbled with the handle and burst outside, terrified of being arrested. But the sight that met me made my heart stop.

​The street was paved. The buildings were pristine. The air was filled with the sounds of a bustling, healthy crowd.

​"What is happening? Where am I?"

​I didn't recognize a single face. I ran blindly through the streets until I reached the town square. I stopped in front of the chapel, my jaw dropping. It was the same bell, the same Phoenix statue...

​"This is Hayem. But the houses... the plaza... everything is new."

​I looked down at my feet. I could feel the warmth of the clean cobblestones. This wasn't a dream.

​Overwhelmed by a mix of terror and confusion, I screamed at the top of my lungs in the middle of the crowded square.

​"What the hell is going on?!"