Hades felt a chill down his back and opened his eyes with slight annoyance.
The blue sky reflected in his dark pupils, dotted with fluffy white clouds.
His mind was foggy, remembering nothing. He blinked unconsciously, the bright sky making his eyes water.
So tired, he thought.
Hades decided to close his eyes and go back to sleep.
However, a damp sensation interrupted his plan.
A mule was nuzzling him, licking his face with its rough tongue. The sensation jolted him awake.
“Hey, stop it! Stop it!”
Hades had no choice but to sit up, using his hands to push away the overly enthusiastic mule.
Standing in a field, he felt an even colder chill at his back.
Where am I?
Hades wondered.
Nearby, a beautiful river sparkled in the sunlight.
He was standing on a ridge between fields. The rice paddies around him were lush and green. In the distance, sun-tanned farmers were busy working.
The water flowed, the rice grew, people farmed, and the mule kept trying to lick his face.
He was the only one standing there clueless, his mind utterly blank.
Hades decided to trust his instincts.
Looking at the mule, he noticed it was painfully thin, its ribs sticking out, and it seemed slightly lame.
Yet, it had a bridle on, indicating it had an owner.
Hades took hold of the mule’s reins. The mule obediently followed him, plodding along at a relaxed pace.
Should I find its owner?
Staring into the mule’s big, watery eyes, Hades made up his mind.
He began walking along the ridge.
The farmers occasionally glanced at him with curious eyes but quickly returned to their work, leaving him alone.
At the end of the path, he came upon a simple mud house with a thatched roof.
It was basic but seemed just right for its surroundings.
A middle-aged man stood in front of the house. His long hair was tied back, and he was adjusting his attire.
He wore coarse linen clothes and a thin, plain gray armor. In his hand was an ordinary sword, entirely unremarkable.
Hades suddenly felt he should hand the mule over to him.
“Is this mule yours?”
He asked.
The man glanced at him, then rudely grabbed the reins from Hades’ hands.
“No.”
He said.
“But now it is.”
“Hey! How can you just take it like that?”
Hades protested, unwilling to leave the mule to someone who might not be its rightful owner.
The man gave him a smug yet peculiar look.
“Do you know who its previous owner was?”
“Uh… No, I don’t.”
Hades stammered, caught off guard.
“Then that’s fine. I need a mule, and since no one else is claiming it, it’s mine now.”
“What do you need a mule for?”
Hades watched as the man skillfully mounted the frail mule.
“To slay a dragon.”
The man’s voice was calm, as if announcing a mundane errand to the village square.
He nudged the mule with his feet. The mule let out a reluctant grunt, shook its head, and began walking, slow and uneven.
Slay a dragon?
What?!
Hades quickly followed. The mule’s slow pace made it easy to keep up.
“Wait, slay a dragon?!”
The man, now riding the mule, glanced down at him from his higher vantage.
“Yes.”
Hades’ mind spun in confusion. Nothing about the scene made sense.
He looked into the distance. It was still blue skies, rice paddies, and farmers. There was no trace of smoke or dragons anywhere.
This guy must be crazy.
He thought.
But Hades’ curiosity got the better of him. He decided to follow the madman for a while—just in case there really was a dragon.
So, he trailed behind the mule and its rider. The man, for his part, maintained an air of seriousness, his face stern.
The villagers they passed greeted the man warmly, but when their eyes landed on Hades, they would chuckle and move along.
Hades blinked. What’s wrong with me?
He glanced at his own hands. They were rough and pale, as if soaked in something highly corrosive.
Corrosion... poison gas or something?
Hades suddenly remembered.
He wasn't from here
Hades knew he didn’t belong here.
But after racking his brain for a long time and failing to recall where he was from, he gave up trying altogether.
He glanced again at the farmers who smiled at him before walking away.
Ah, it’s probably because my skin is so different from their bronze complexion, he thought, brushing off their amusement.
Deciding to act like just another traveler passing through, Hades ignored them and focused on the road ahead.
The clouds drifted by, and soon the village was left far behind.
So boring.
Hades yawned. The road ahead seemed endlessly repetitive, offering no change or excitement.
But at the first crossroads, something unusual happened.
An old man stood there.
Well, stood wasn’t entirely accurate. He was upside down.
That’s right—an old man was floating upside down in the air, wearing a cloak that seemed to defy gravity, refusing to fall.
This bizarre sight made Hades blink. Suddenly, he felt a little more inclined to believe that this crazy man was truly off to slay a dragon.
The man dismounted the mule and approached the floating old man, crouching in front of him.
“Malcador, which way should we go?”
“My lord, that way,” the old man—now identified as Malcador—pointed in a direction where there was no path at all.
“Thank you.”
After expressing his thanks, the man addressed as “My lord” climbed back onto the mule and veered off the main road, heading toward the pathless expanse.
“Hey, wait for me!”
Hades quickly caught up, but he couldn’t help turning back repeatedly to glance at the upside-down old man.
“Why is he upside down?”
Hades asked.
The man, now back on the mule, gave Hades a strange look before replying matter-of-factly, “He’s not from here. That’s why he’s upside down—he doesn’t belong to this world.”
“Well, I’m not from here either!”
Hades retorted without hesitation.
The man gave him a puzzled glance, rolling his eyes as though Hades had missed the obvious.
“Take another good look at yourself.”
Huh?
A terrible thought suddenly crossed Hades’ mind.
Slowly, he reached behind himself to feel—
There’s no back to my clothes?!
His outfit only had fabric covering the front; his entire back was exposed!
Mortified, Hades wished he could bury himself on the spot.
I’d rather be upside down like that old man!
Sensing Hades’ embarrassment, the man offered a rare bit of consolation.
“There’s no one behind us. Even if you’re completely exposed, it doesn’t matter.”
No way!!!
But in this barren wilderness, surrounded by nothing but grass and with not a single tree in sight, Hades had no way to cover himself. Resigned, he half-followed the man, half-walked in his embarrassing state.
Though initially uncomfortable, he eventually got used to it and stopped thinking about it altogether.
“What’s your name?”
Hades asked.
“They call me Emperor,” the man replied.
What a strange title.
“That sounds odd to me,” Hades admitted.
“I don’t like it either,” the Emperor said frankly. “But everyone calls me that. Over time, I just got used to it.”
“Are you really going to slay a dragon?”
Hades pressed on.
The Emperor, however, didn’t seem inclined to waste his time answering the same question twice. He simply remained silent, his lack of denial serving as confirmation.
Scratching his head, Hades muttered, “Maybe I shouldn’t be following you. If we actually run into a dragon, I won’t be able to escape.”
“You’ve got nowhere else to go.”
The Emperor’s sharp words hit their mark.