Danmachi: Fated Hero or Foolish Demise?

Prologue RW

Author's Notes(A/N): Hello everyone! This A/N serves a varying purpose depending on how much you've read of this story. If you are a newcomer, and Chapters 1-9 have the letters RW, then the rewrites have been completed (Yes, I decided to include Chapter 9 to fix some very slight issues), and you can skip to the last paragraph of this A/N. If Chapters 1-9 don't all have RW, then be aware I am rewriting them before I continue the story, and you can skip to the last paragraph of this A/N. If you have read the original Prologue, I suggest you read the next paragraph.

Aside from adding more context and improving my original quality with a set style, the original ending, involving a specific faction, will be moved to the start of Chapter 1 RW. It will flow much better. Also, I've decided to turn on the mature rating to be on the safer side as a chapter in my rewrite, and future chapters will contain elements leaning on the darker side. Also, I'm sorry this took so long. I am fairly certain the others, say for chapter 8, won't take as long.

For the newcomers, first, thank you for giving this story a chance. This chapter will follow my OC and starts just before the main series. I want to assure you of two things regarding my OC. First, his identity is set in stone and will not be a bait and switch. Second, his identity is not the story. That said, I hope you all enjoy the beginning of this very massive story.

As a pair of crimson eyes became enthralled with what stood before him, the white-haired boy sprinted into the city larger than kingdoms. Excitement plastered across his young face—dreams running through his mind.

But elsewhere in the world, the silver eye of a figure remained unvarying in the presence of a wasteland, masquerading as a farm. The winds blew fallen leaves. The sun's rays warmed the earth beneath his feet. The man, wrapped in shadows, remained unmoving despite all these. No matter how much his robe fluttered or the sun beamed down upon him, he would not budge from either.

His gaze ignored the destruction as it was attached to the distant horizon. His face was not whole but of fragments. The left side, in its entirety, was sheltered by the hood of his robe. The right side, while visible, was darkened by blotting out the rays from above.

His physique, past a height of 6'2", could not be determined. The part of him not hidden away inside his robe was his hands. They rested atop a wooden cane, reaching his chest. Besides a single black line that ran down the shaft, it resembled all others that possessed a hook for the head.

In contrast to the young boy's amazement at seeing the magnificent city where he envisioned a bright future ahead of him, the man's sight left the horizon to reconvene at the decrepit farm, emotions forsaken.

A farm drained of life. A farm missing a soul. A farm... to serve as but a momentary dwelling for the man and the quest he must uphold.

The farm, a few acres in size and outlined by fallen fences, encompassed three structures of varying size. A shed where wooden flakes would become dislodged and ride the wind. A barn where the paint that remained resembled that of accidents. A house that was the sole survivor of the forces of decay, located in the center of everything.

He stood just past the outskirts of the farm, next to where a gate would be. After a few minutes of allowing the air to flow around him, he would find himself walking down the path leading to the house. His left hand would leave his cane, greeting his forehead.

"Of all the offers... why did I select his to impede my search? Better question: why am I sacrificing a year? So much can be-"

His mental dialogue and movement paused just as he was about to crush something. He knelt down, removing his hand from his forehead.