Bete hadn't come to the central plaza with any of his familia members.
Honestly, in the past, he would never have attended this kind of event—what he always classified as a waste of time.
Yet today, he was here.
Carrying a peculiar mood with him.
"Tch~ My brain must be broken."
Clutching a sky lantern, the young werewolf—his rebellious, hands-in-pockets attitude clashing with the delicate lantern—mocked himself out loud.
Perhaps, even someone as stubborn and contrary as him could subconsciously long for something beautiful.
Of course, he would never openly admit this inner desire.
Stubborn pride was one thing; true yearning in the heart was another entirely.
And at this moment, with all these conflicting feelings swirling… he saw her.
The Archon girl he had met once before.
The stranger who had boldly uttered "beautiful words."
Under the gaze of countless eyes, she sang a melody not born of this world.
The first notes were ethereal, delicate as stardust, trembling in the air.
Not long after…
"Some deserts on this planet were oceans once~♪"
"Some deserts on this planet were oceans once~♪"
"Sometimes I see a dying bird fall to the ground~♪"
"But it used to fly so high~♪"
…
Bete didn't understand music.
His homeland lay on the northern plains near the Dragon Valley, born into a hunting tribe. Around him were a strong chief father, a bold and lively mother, a cute younger sister named Luna, a gentle childhood friend, and… a group of same-aged werewolf children who always followed him around, calling him Big Brother.
From a young age, his father instilled in him the law of the jungle: the strong prey on the weak. He never forgot to sharpen his claws and fangs.
His tribe did not believe in gods. They followed the teachings of their ancestors, never seeking Falnas.
Even so, the werewolves thrived, hunting monsters through accumulated skill and strategy.
Especially during their moonlit frenzy, their combat prowess became nearly unstoppable.
A wolf pack is, by nature, a terrifying "monster."
Hence, neighboring nations called them the lords of the plains.
Many forces—including the Rakia Kingdom—offered alliances, but Bete's father rejected them all.
It was tradition.
Yet those who resist change inevitably fall behind.
And so, one day…
A true monster appeared.
A winged, yet flightless, ominous beast.
Its scales deflected every weak attack; its roar could shatter a warrior's eardrums.
Even the moonlit frenzied warriors were torn apart.
That day, Bete's parents were shredded, his sister stomped to death, and his beloved childhood friend, Reene, lost half her body to the beast.
The strong could do as they pleased; the weak could only endure.
Indeed, from that day on, the "lord of the plains" was no longer just Bete's tribe—it was this unchecked, rampaging monster.
"So weak… I really was so weak."
Laughing at his past pride and driven by a burning desire for revenge, Bete left his homeland.
He made a decision that went against tradition…
"It's just me left now. Doesn't matter what I do."
"As long as I kill that monster."
The young avenger set off on his journey.
He gained the blessing of a god, joined the familia, and became an adventurer.
At first, thanks to his hunting experience, he was no ordinary rookie. He did not flinch, knew how to use tactics and skills, and avoided rookie mistakes.
He gradually grew stronger.
His fangs and claws became capable of tearing apart even the most terrifying enemies.
Along the way, he found love.
A fragile, ordinary girl who relentlessly tried to keep up with him.
After deadly dungeon battles, he could rest safely with her on his lap.
Occasionally, her playful touches tickled his ears, but he didn't mind.
After warmth and comfort, she would lie in his arms, chatting about trivial daily things.
It felt like home.
He had found his sanctuary.
Yet…
"Bete, one day you must know why your claws and fangs exist."
When he had become strong enough and decided to return home for revenge, his god whispered these words, which remained etched in his memory.
Unfortunately, he didn't listen back then.
Like always, he smiled broadly at his companions and her, saying: "I'll come back once I've killed that guy."
And he did.
That night, under the moon, he fought the lord of the plains, ripping apart the armored scales, shattering the claws that killed his parents, smashing the beast's foot that trampled his sister, and removing every tooth that bit his childhood friend.
The cost: broken bones and a bloodied, battered body.
But Bete won.
He roared under the moonlight, as if declaring: Nothing will ever take away what is mine again.
He became strong.
But…
"Why?"
Bete, victorious and full of hope, only wanted to return to his new sanctuary.
Yet upon entering Orario and returning to his familia base, he received devastating news.
It was a normal occurrence: adventurers encountering "unexpected events" in dungeons, losing many comrades.
Yes, it was normal.
Many of his team returned gravely wounded, and as deputy captain… she had died covering their retreat.
"Why?"
Why was I so weak back then?
Why, after growing strong, could I still not protect the weak?
Then… what was the point of honing my fangs and claws, of becoming stronger?
If loss was inevitable, it would have been better not to get close to the weak at all.
"I thought I were no more than a bystander, till I felt a touch so real~♪"
"I will no longer be a transient, when I see smiles with tears~♪"
Bete's gaze faltered.
The lantern in his hand slipped free, slowly rising.
Undoubtedly, he could have leapt to catch it.
Yet at this moment, others around him were releasing their own lanterns unconsciously.
One by one, the lights ascended.
No commands were given; people simply acted according to their hearts.
This world had pianos, drums, and the learned he could hear the melody rising, symbolizing hope.
It was like the first light of dawn, like the sky lanterns drifting upward, silently saying: It's time to move forward.
Even though the lyrics were still sorrowful, still so raw…
"If I have never known the sore of farewell and pain of sacrifices, what else should I engrave on my mind?~♪"
…
The song unearthed scars people had long avoided confronting, bringing tears.
Not just recent wounds…
But also those from the distant past.
"Frozen into icy rocks, that's how it starts~