The remains of the Ash-Crowned Dragon battlefield could be accessed through the event attendant NPC in the Lost Hills north of the royal capital.

It wasn’t the First Battlefield where Astrega, the largest clan, had claimed the World Last Attack.

To be more precise, I was sent back to the same instance area where I had participated at the very end.

Every battlefield had the same layout and the same size.

The Ash-Crowned Dragon had rampaged through each of them in exactly the same way.

The same supply routes stretched across the land.

When the battle ended, every temporary camp was dismantled.

The only difference was whether someone like me came back to see what had been left behind.

Even though the reward exchange period hadn’t ended yet, almost no players bothered returning to the battlefield now.

The progression raiders had already moved on to strengthening their equipment.

The streamers were busy editing highlight videos of the raid.

The theorycrafters were probably buried in spreadsheets, analyzing the performance of the event rewards.

Each of them was enjoying the game in their own way.

Meanwhile, I had returned to a place whose story was already over.

This event had included everything from temporary camps and supply stations to teleport gates, reward exchanges, wounded soldiers’ tents, and even an observation platform overlooking the entire battlefield.

But when I stepped inside, almost all of it had already been packed away.

The sky was still a pale gray.

The grass covering the hills where Graum had rampaged was scorched black, and enormous claw-like trenches scarred the ground everywhere.

The dragon’s corpse was already gone.

The banners of the progression clans were nowhere to be seen.

Even the observation platform where the streamers had once stood was little more than an empty frame.

The battlefield was preserved exactly as it looked in the middle of being dismantled.

‘That’s so like CRO.’

Even details this small had been carefully recreated.

Only the sound of the wind filled the air.

I stood alone atop the hill, quietly looking over the battlefield.

In the official broadcast I watched afterward, rays of light had descended upon the First Battlefield.

Thousands of skill effects had exploded across the field.

The Ash-Crowned Dragon Graum’s wings had covered the sky.

In the end, one of Astrega’s attackers had driven a sword into the dragon’s chest.

This wasn’t that First Battlefield.

But it was the same battlefield.

The same Ash-Crowned Dragon had rampaged here.

Now, every instance was probably wrapped in the same silence.

Scorched stones still littered the ground.

Wooden stakes, knocked over by the wind, remained where they had fallen.

Not far away, an empty healing potion bottle someone had left behind rolled across the earth.

“This silence… I really do like it.”

The words slipped out before I realized it.

If I had been here during the actual battle, it probably would have been incredible.

But what I wanted to see wasn’t the battle itself.

It was what came afterward.

The scenery no one bothered looking at after the excitement faded.

The atmosphere that would never appear on a strategy website.

The sound of the wind that would never make it into a highlight reel.

If I could experience just that, today would have been enough.

Thinking that, I turned to head down the hill—

Clatter.

The sound of wooden crates collapsing echoed nearby.

I followed the noise and spotted one of the supply wagons leaning awkwardly halfway down the slope.

One wheel had become lodged inside a scorched trench, and the stack of wooden crates loaded onto it was beginning to collapse.

A supply soldier was pushing against the wheel by himself.

His nameplate was a pale gray—the color used for non-combat NPCs.

Roy.

During the event, he had probably been nothing more than one of the countless supply soldiers in the background.

He wore light gray armor with the supply corps insignia on his arm.

He looked fairly young.

His appearance wasn’t nearly as eye-catching as an ordinary player character’s, yet the exhausted expression on his face had been crafted with surprising detail.

“Need a hand?”

I found myself calling out before I could think.

Roy looked up.

“We are currently dismantling the battlefield.”

“The Ash-Crowned Dragon operation has already concluded.”

“I… know.”

“This area is no longer a battlefield.”

“I know that too.”

“I just came to look around.”

Roy tilted his head slightly.

“…You came to see a battlefield after it was over?”

“Yeah.”

“…You’re an unusual person.”

“I get that a lot.”

I walked around behind the wagon.

“Let’s push it together.”

“I’m afraid I can’t offer you any additional supplies.”

“That’s fine.”

“As long as we get the wheel unstuck.”

Roy fell silent for a brief moment.

Then, his expression seemed to soften just a little.

“…Very well.”

“Thank you.”

I placed both hands against the wagon.

“Ready… push!”

Roy and I pushed together.

At first, the trapped wheel didn’t budge at all.

My Strength wasn’t particularly high.

Scouts specialized in Agility and detection skills.

Moving heavy wagons wasn’t exactly what my class was built for.

Even so, after several attempts, the scorched earth finally crumbled away.

The wheel slowly climbed out of the trench.

The wagon lurched with a heavy thud.

At the same time, one of the smaller crates stacked on top tumbled to the ground.

Its lid split apart.

Several thin, blackened pieces of metal spilled out.

Roy’s gaze froze.

“That is…”

I bent down and picked one up.

It was a small, scorched identification tag that fit neatly in my palm.

Most of the engraved letters had been burned away, making them difficult to read.

Seventh Supply Unit.

That was the name engraved upon it.

Roy quietly drew in a breath.

“…So they were still here.”

A small line of text appeared at the edge of my vision.

A familiar chime rang out.

[Afterstory Quest: The Names That Never Appeared in the Victory Report]

I blinked.

“Huh… a quest?”

Roy continued staring at the charred identification tag as he spoke softly.

“The Ash-Crowned Dragon has been defeated.”

“A victory monument will soon be raised in the royal capital.”

“The names of the travelers who participated in the raid, and the clan that delivered the final blow, will surely be engraved upon it.”

“…Yeah.”

“But the identification tags of those who protected the supply routes have still not been recovered.”

Roy looked into the shattered crate.

“The Seventh Supply Unit defended the supply route until just before the final phase.”

“If they had abandoned their post, the healing potions might never have reached the front lines.”

None of that had ever been mentioned during the official broadcast.

I didn’t remember seeing the name of any supply unit on the forums or in any strategy guides either.

We players were the ones who defeated Graum.

Astrega had claimed the World Last Attack and dominated the rankings.

That was all true.

But… perhaps there had also been people who existed only to support the event from behind the scenes.

And after everything was over, only their identification tags had been left forgotten at the bottom of a supply crate.

Roy looked at me.

“Traveler.”

“There isn’t much time left before the victory report is finalized.”

“But if we can still make it… I’d like to gather at least their names.”

The quest details opened before me.

Objective: Collect five identification tags belonging to the Seventh Supply Unit.

Recommended Level: —

Reward: —

Time Limit: Until the withdrawal phase ends.

I couldn’t help but smile a little.

There was still a quest like this left behind.

“…I’ve still got a little time.”

“I’ll help.”

“Are you certain?”

“This task no longer has anything to do with victory.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s exactly why I’ll do it.”

If it had anything to do with victory, someone else would have already picked it up.

If there had been rewards attached to it, the progression raiders or theorycrafters would have discovered it long ago.

But if it wasn’t a reward…

If it wasn’t part of the rankings…

If it was simply a name that would disappear unless someone cared enough to find it…

Then this was exactly why I had come here.

Roy looked at me with that same puzzled expression once more.

I handed him the scorched identification tag before setting off across the burned hills, searching the battlefield’s fading remains.