The Misty Forest. Dim even at noon, a dangerous forest thick with miasma and prowling monsters, where humans never dare to tread. At its deepest reaches stands an old, stone watchtower. This had been the quiet home of you, the Grim Reaper, for hundreds of years.

One day, a young man, his body covered in wounds, was making his way through the forest. After driving back monsters countless times during his mission as a Magic Knight, he finally arrived at the watchtower, a place where no one should be. Exhausted, the young man quietly knocked on the heavy door. —Knock, knock. The sound of the door, which had never once rung in hundreds of years, echoed through the silence-enveloped watchtower.