Storm of Shadows

Chapter 4

Alan opened his eyes and found himself on an island.

He staggered to his feet, staring at his surroundings in shock. Just moments ago, he had been stabbed in the back and fallen into a stream inside a domain. He could still remember the pain, the cold water, and the terrible realization that he was going to die.

Yet here he was, standing on unfamiliar ground with no visible wound on his body.

‘Am I not dead? Or is this the afterlife?’

A gentle breeze swept across the island, carrying an inexplicable sense of sorrow. The landscape was filled with vast meadows, beautiful lakes, and winding streams. Everything looked peaceful, almost like the forest where he had died, but something about the place made him uncomfortable.

The flowers seemed to droop beneath an invisible weight, while the trees stood silently beneath the pale sky. Even the air felt heavy, as though the island itself had experienced more suffering than any living being could bear.

Translucent clouds drifted across the sky, casting a faint, otherworldly glow over the land. Tall trees with ghostly branches stretched toward the heavens, and somewhere in the distance, the faint cries of unseen birds mingled with the rustling leaves.

It was beautiful, yet strangely depressing.

At the center of the island stood a magnificent castle. Its towering walls and elaborate spires would have looked impressive from a distance, but the dark aura surrounding the structure made it seem more like a prison than a royal residence.

Several people could be seen moving about the island, their expressions filled with exhaustion and despair. Some wandered aimlessly, while others appeared occupied with tasks.

He frowned, feeling increasingly disturbed.

‘Where am I?’

The sadness hanging over the island began to seep into him. It was more than an emotion he could simply ignore. It pressed against his chest, stirring memories he would have preferred to leave buried.

For a moment, he felt as though every painful experience he had ever endured was being dragged back to the surface.

Then, a translucent panel appeared before his eyes.

【Welcome to the Island of Sorrow, Alan Frost. Prepare for your first trial.】

Alan froze.

“Island of what? Who are these people?”

He turned to examine the people wandering nearby. Their faces were pale and lifeless, their eyes dull as though they had long since lost the will to live.

The sight reminded him of his mother.

Before her condition had completely overwhelmed her, she had sometimes worn that same expression which, according to the doctors, was a symptom of mana intolerance. It was as though a part of her had already given up, leaving only her body behind.

Alan’s hands tightened.

‘Could these people be illusions?’

He had no idea what was happening, but he couldn’t afford to stand around waiting for answers. He began walking across the sandy terrain, hoping to find something that would explain his situation.

However, the moment he took a few steps, the scenery around him shifted.

Before he could react, he found himself standing directly in front of the castle.

Alan stared at the towering entrance in disbelief. He hadn’t even seen himself approach it. It was as though an invisible force had dragged him across the island.

Several armored guards stood near the entrance, their weapons at their sides as they scrutinized everyone who passed. Their gazes eventually settled on Alan, and he immediately felt a sense of danger.

Before any of them could approach, a hand suddenly seized his arm and yanked him away.

“You look different.”

Alan gasped and turned toward the person who had grabbed him.

The man appeared to be slightly older than him, though it was difficult to tell beneath his disheveled appearance. His hair was filthy and tangled, his clothes were torn and weathered, and his sunken eyes held the exhaustion of someone who had endured years of suffering.

Everything about him screamed he was a slave.

“H-How different do I look?” Alan asked, still struggling to understand what was happening.

He glanced down at himself and finally noticed something strange.

His clothes had changed.

The outfit he had been wearing before his death was gone. In its place was a set of worn-out garments similar to those worn by the people around him. The fabric was rough against his skin, and the condition of the clothes made him look as though he had spent years living in poverty.

Even worse, the sadness surrounding him seemed to have grown heavier.

His mind drifted toward his mother and little sister. They were the only family he had left, especially after his father died several years ago.

‘What happened to them?’

The thought tightened his chest.

‘He had died in that domain, hadn’t he? If so, what had happened to his mother and sister after he was gone? Who would take care of them?’

Before he could dwell on those thoughts, the stranger shook his head, saying, “Truly, I know not what I speak of. Perhaps I have merely imagined it. But if thou dost not wish to be caught by Lord Sorrowshade, I implore thee to follow me.”

“Lord Sorrowshade?” Alan repeated, his confusion deepening.

The man didn’t answer. Instead, he dragged Alan away from the castle and into the settlement where the island’s inhabitants lived and worked.

The place was bustling with activity, but there was not a single smile to be seen.

People exchanged goods, sold their wares, and carried out their daily tasks with expressions of complete misery. Some walked through the streets with their heads lowered, while others sat in silence, staring into nothingness.

It was as though happiness had never existed in their lives.

They were slaves, not only to the people who controlled them, but also to the overwhelming sorrow that seemed to define their existence.

Armored guards patrolled the settlement, watching the inhabitants closely. Their presence was enough to keep everyone in line, and whenever one of them passed, the people immediately lowered their heads and continued working.

Alan slowly took in the unfamiliar buildings, the crude tools, and the old-fashioned clothing.

Then it struck him.

This wasn’t the modern world.

The settlement looked as though it belonged to an era long before the nineteenth century, a time when slavery was widespread and ordinary people had little control over their own lives.

Alan’s eyes widened.

“What in the world is this place?!”

His voice rose before he could stop himself.

“Is this hell?!”