Ten years ago, a great surge of adventurers began appearing. There were a lot of factors that could have been added but the most noticeable—money!

Edward was still a young man, on the cusp of adulthood and with no other means to fend for himself. He didn’t have family, barely even a place to call home. It wasn’t just him, many people needed work and even more people needed coin to survive.

So he did what everyone else seemed to do, he set his sights above—he set his sights on the Tower.

It didn’t take long to find out what made it so impressive, after his first day Edward had already slain his first monster. Granted the small alley knife wasn’t the greatest weapon but it was strong enough to kill a Funk, which meant he had enough to survive the first floor.

It wasn’t long before he made friends—comrades—they shared their gear with him and helped him reach greater heights in the Tower than he could have ever done alone.

Nearly several months passed and Edward’s party had reached the ninth floor but…his attack power paled in comparison to theirs.

It was as if he had never really gotten stronger, he felt weak. He felt as though he had only gotten there thanks to the strength of his friends and that his comrades would leave him. No matter how much they assured him, they couldn't get his nerves to settle. He didn’t feel comfortable on the front lines anymore and they couldn't deny him that.

He had no choice, as soon as they returned to Istoria he quickly traded in all his money for a shield. In no time at all, he had become their party’s shielder.

The first trip to the Tower was full of cheers and excitement, morale and glee were at an all-time high—even Edward felt it was a time to relax. That wasn’t to say his nerves hadn’t crept up on him, he felt the weight of all those emotions balancing over him. The only difference was that for the first time, he just felt the load had lightened with his comrades at his side.

With them, he could relax. Where he slacked off, they could easily pick up the load, right? Even if something slipped passed him they would be able to kill it in seconds. What could a weak adventurer like him do against them anyway?

Their trip to the higher floors—floor ten—went without any trouble the monsters felt pretty easy to kill. They wondered if it was their lineup or the new equipment but either way, something was working right for them.

That was until…

The Ravager, a powerful monster from the seventeenth floor that had no business being down there and one they had no business fighting.

The only explanation was a Wondering Boss and a strong one at that. They had never fought anything so dangerous before and they knew it would have been next to impossible. They fought anyway, they challenged the beast.

Edward offered his reservations on fighting it but how could he? Whatever he felt weak in, they could pick up the slack for. He never needed to worry—he never wanted to worry again.

They didn’t stand a chance.

One by one, every person that Edward stood side by side with was utterly annihilated by the monster before them.

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Its eerily sharp movements cut through their healer, tore through their tank—and ate their swordsman alive. It seemed random at first but Ed soon saw the pattern, that beast was taking them out in order of importance.

It barely recognised he was there during any of it.

It was an onslaught, they were wiped out with only two remaining.

Edward turned to his companion, the warrior who had invited him to their party and turned him into who he was. His closest friend—his fellow party member…

Blood splattered across the air, followed by the head of the only friend he had left. It landed inches away from his feet and suddenly all the air had escaped his lungs. He was left speechless, unable to summon a single sound.

He dropped to his knees, utterly defeated. Suddenly a weight fell over him, not from the monster but something else entirely. It was the weight he had let go of so long ago, the very same weight he left for his comrades to carry. It was unbearable.

His eyes rose to the sounds of scratching and sharp scrapes ahead of him and realised that it would all be over soon enough. He waited for death—accepted it—something felt off though, he couldn't sit still. He couldn't sit still with all that weight on him, it was almost as though it had become real. As if it were slowly crushing him, only growing larger and heavier the longer he remained seated.

His eyes wouldn’t water, and not a single tear graced his cheek. The raw sting of its pain had long since greeted his face but no tears. He thought something must have been wrong with him, why else would he have let things play out the way they did?

If only he had tried harder.

If only he had become stronger.

If only he didn’t leave everything to them…

Even if he wanted to fight, how could he? All he had was a shield, no weapons—not even the alley knife he had used to gut weak monsters would do anything against that beast.

The monster tore through the air and rushed towards him. The terrifying sound of its lanky body crashing against the ground with every step sent cold sweats down the side of his face. The violent shaking of his knees didn’t seem like it would ever stop, he hated that, he watched as his death approached him. The world moved in slow motion, dragging that last second of life into an endless moment.

It gave him so much time—time to reflect—time to doubt.

Did they die for nothing? How many others are going to repeat his fate, how many more idiots are going to die, defenceless and alone in that crappy Tower?

With those thoughts centered at the edge of his mind, he didn’t have time to worry, doubt or be afraid. His legs were solid as a rock, they felt embedded into the ground. He was unsure if they would ever move again.

Defenceless? He wondered.

He had a shield, how could he be defenceless? As long as he had something to hold he could never think that again—he could never go back to that way of thinking. That he couldn't do it, that somebody would bail him out.

No.

NEVER AGAIN.

The Ravager was on him, it brought out its massive claws and slashed through the air with a swift motion of its bony paw. It expected to pass through him, leaving four evenly sliced parts of Edward in its wake, however…

The blackened claws of the Ravager buckled behind the weight of his shield—his defence lay true to the word and nothing passed him.

Edward’s body glistened under the superlative white glow that surrounded his light armour and shield. It was a blinding light that forced back the Ravager and lit up the dreary cave.

There was no need for explanation, he felt exactly what that light was. It was power—his power—the Absolute Defence.

It was true that Edward only had a shield but with nothing able to break through his shield it felt as though he could do it. It felt as though he would actually survive. He felt as though it was his only goal, to kill that monster.

…

Four days later, Edward returned to Istoria.

And 2 days after that, he returned to the Tower.

The weight he had dumped on their shoulders was too heavy for his party, it was never theirs to carry. How could they? Even after they left him, all the weight he had inherited only seemed to grow. He held their deaths, his weakness and so much more.

With his unique ability,

he finally found the strength to carry that weight—to carry all the weight of others—to never forfeit that role again.

That was what he decided, so true to his ability he honed himself and became an unbreakable defence. One that would serve as a beacon to look up to, a strength to help the people in Istoria and anyone unable to carry their own weight.

That’s when he was born.

The Absolute Defence.