Alfred looked at Aria, then back at Logan, and answered with a grin:
"Ah, her? She's a slave I bought recently. She'll carry our food and gear."
"I see perfectly well," Logan replied, visibly bothered.
"We'll take a carriage to the village. It'll take about a day's travel," Alfred informed them as he started walking ahead.
The group set off, slowly making their way toward the city gates, aiming to reach their transportation waiting for the next stage of their journey. Logan, however, lagged slightly behind, walking alongside the young girl. As they advanced, the others led the way, chatting among themselves, leaving Logan and the girl enclosed in a bubble of silence, broken only by the sound of their footsteps on the cobblestones.
Until Logan finally broke the silence:
"Tell me, what's your name?" he asked.
"My name is Aria," she replied, hesitating slightly to say her own name.
"That's a beautiful name. I'm Logan, nice to meet you. And know this—you don't need permission to speak to me, and you don't have to be afraid."
"Alright..." she answered timidly.
"Tell me, where are you from?"
"I come from a very remote village, where we lived hidden and..." Aria began, but her voice trailed off into silence.
She couldn't finish her sentence. Her face suddenly tensed, as if struck by painful memories. Her eyes, heavy with sadness, seemed to hint at untold stories, foretelling terrible ordeals. Sensing her distress, Logan didn't hesitate. He gently took her hand in his, offering a spontaneous gesture of comfort. His silent support seemed to say he was there for her, ready to share the weight of her past, though he knew it wasn't the right time to push her further.
"I understand. Don't force yourself for now. During the mission, stay close to me, alright?" he told her with a sincere smile.
She nodded in agreement, and together they headed toward the waiting carriage. It wasn't a luxurious vehicle, but rather a simple wooden wagon covered with a tarp and pulled by sturdy horses, ready for the journey ahead. Logan settled on one side of the carriage with Aria beside him. They were both wrapped in a meditative silence, each seemingly lost in thought, perhaps reflecting on the day's events or the challenges to come. That silence, heavy with unspoken emotion, was finally broken by one of Alfred's companions, who made a remark that drew everyone's attention.
"Why are you sitting next to that stinking beast?" Lewis spat, annoyed.
"If she stinks, I wonder what you smell like," Logan shot back without flinching.
"What the hell did you just say?!" Lewis growled, like an enraged dog.
"Are you deaf too? I'm here to complete this mission, but I have no need to get along with you. So shut up—I'm already tired of listening to your crap," Logan declared coldly, locking eyes with the man.
"You think that just because you've done a couple of things, you have the right to look down on me?!" Lewis shouted, standing up in anger.
"It seems you've grown fond of that inferior creature, since you've been spending all your time with her since the start of the trip," Reinard added.
"Her company is indeed much more pleasant than that of two idiots like you," Logan retorted mockingly.
"You bastard!"
In one swift, controlled motion, Lewis drew his sword, pointing it at Logan as the latter calmly stood. The blade gleamed menacingly under the dim light filtering into the carriage.
"I'm level 90. You think you stand a chance?"
"Instead of talking, why don't you come find out?" Logan replied, ready to fight.
"Clap-clap! Now, there's no need for fighting. Lewis, put your sword away. You'll have time to blow off steam later," Alfred said, clapping his hands.
"Tch!" Lewis clicked his tongue in frustration before sheathing his sword and sitting back down.
After that, a heavy silence settled over the group for the rest of the journey. The only sound was the steady creaking of the wagon wheels on the gravel road. That monotonous, almost hypnotic noise accompanied their thoughts as they each got lost in their own reflections, the tension from the earlier confrontation still lingering like a ghost between them. After several hours of this silent trip, they finally arrived at the village. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting its last golden rays, bathing the landscape in a warm and welcoming glow—a striking contrast to the cold atmosphere that had settled among them for some time.
"Alright, let's find an inn."
They quickly located a small inn without difficulty. The village, though very modest, had a welcoming establishment whose wooden sign creaked slightly in the breeze, inviting travelers to stop. As they crossed the threshold, the innkeeper—a middle-aged man with a warm smile—greeted them. His friendly expression contrasted with the tense atmosphere still clinging to them, and his gentle voice slightly dispelled the air of distrust that had hung over the group since the trip.
"Would you like separate rooms?" he asked politely with a smile.
"No, one room with four beds," Alfred said, unwilling to pay for individual rooms.
"Five beds," Logan interjected, glancing at the innkeeper.
"We don't give beds to inferior beings," the man replied immediately, his smile fading.
"She'll sleep on the floor, like the slave she is!" Reinard added with contempt.
"You really seem to enjoy the company of that inferior being. Could it be you're a rebel?" Lewis asked with a smirk.
Rebels, as he mentioned, were known for refusing to submit to racial discrimination and for rejecting the worship of the goddess. Stigmatized by the Church, the nobility, and all the faithful, such men and women were often treated as outcasts. In this rigid society, those deemed faithless or defiant were generally exterminated or cast out, their existence marked by danger and exclusion.
"And what if I am?"
"Then the Church would be delighted to welcome another heretic," Lewis laughed, shrugging.
"Is that a threat?"
"More like advice."
"I'll sleep outside with her then."
"Tch, whatever. But you'd better be here tomorrow at 8 sharp for the quest."
"No problem. I'll be on time," Logan replied as he left the inn.
Alone against them all, Logan made a bold decision, leaving the inn with Aria, searching for a quiet, secluded spot at the edge of the village. Once he found a suitable place, under a starry sky promising a clear night, he began crafting two hammocks and two blankets from the materials he'd bought earlier.
As he worked with skillful, confident hands, Aria sat beside him, watching silently. The atmosphere was peaceful, disturbed only by the rustling of leaves and the soft chirping of crickets in the night. Logan, focused on his task, didn't notice Aria's attentive eyes following his every movement.
Finally, as he tied the last knot and the hammocks were ready for the night, Aria broke the silence. Her voice, soft yet firm, cut through the calm of the nocturnal forest, carrying words that might just change the course of their relationship.
"Sir, why do you defend me? You're human, aren't you?" Aria asked, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes.
"It's simple. I hate slavery and discrimination," Logan replied, his serious gaze reflecting a deep conviction.
"You don't worship the goddess?" Aria asked, seemingly trying to understand his motives more deeply.
"Why would I worship that... goddess? Besides, you must hate her too, right?"
"I hate her! Because of her, I lost my family!" she said, revealing her burden, her voice cracking slightly under the weight of her grief.
"Will you tell me your story?" Logan asked gently, his expression attentive.
Aria nodded, taking a deep breath before diving into the memories that had scarred her life.
"I was born in a small village named Luna, where all beastmen like me have white fur—it's very rare. We lived in seclusion, far from humans, to avoid being sold as slaves. Our days were peaceful, spent hunting and living off the forest's resources. We were taught about our world's history and the persecution humans inflicted on our race and others. All because the goddess Hamnesia despised us, she and her cult."
She paused, her face shadowed by the painful memory.
"The day my village was attacked, I was in the forest with Téilo, my childhood friend. We had gone to gather fruit when we saw smoke rising from our village. They had found us and set our homes on fire. The men, including my father Rice, tried to defend the village, but the attackers were far too many. Despite our fierce resistance, we were overwhelmed. They then gathered all the survivors in the burning village center."
Her eyes reflected the pain of reliving each moment.
"'You lot have been a real pain in the ass!' shouted a man in his thirties, his face covered in blood."
"'Isn't it normal to resist pigs like you?' my father Rice spat back with pride."
"'You've got a filthy mouth for an inferior being!' the man barked before striking him violently, drawing blood."
"Then the man grabbed my mother and threw her in front of my father. Several of them held her down and stripped her while my father was tied up. And they raped her in front of my father's and my own eyes for hours. When they were done, they tossed her aside like a worthless object," Aria whispered painfully, biting her lip.
"'I'll kill you! I'll kill you!' my father screamed with all his might."
"'I told you I knew how to break men like you. I'll sell your wife as a worthless slave, and there's nothing you can do about it,' the man said with a grin."
"Then they killed all the men while the women were sold. They slit my father's throat right in front of me, saving him for last just to make him suffer watching every member of our village die one by one. Then they separated me from my mother and sold me too. I'll never forget the name of that filth Vengus! After being sold, I was raped. They did atrocious things to me; sometimes they tortured me for fun, just to see my body bleed and the pain in my eyes, just so I'd beg for one more day of life," Aria said, clenching her fists tightly.
Hearing her story and feeling the depth of her pain, Logan gently took Aria's hands into his own. It was a simple gesture, but filled with sincerity and silent support. He wanted to convey some warmth and comfort in the cool, starry night, under the rustling leaves and the distant whisper of the forest. Logan couldn't find words strong enough to mend such pain, but his tender gesture said more than words ever could. He wanted her to know she wasn't alone anymore, that he would be there for her, no matter what path they had to walk.
"Aria, don't worry. That's going to change!" he said, his voice vibrating with unshakable resolve.
But Aria, overwhelmed by emotion, broke down:
"How?! How when we've already lost everything?! I've lost it all! This world persecutes us and denies our very existence!" she sobbed.
Her words were choked with sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks, reflecting her despair.
Faced with such raw pain, Logan gently pulled her into his arms, trying to soothe her suffering.
"If the world persecutes you, then you must persecute it in return. I promise you—I will change this world," he declared, every word carrying a profound vow.
As he held her, his reassuring warmth seeped into her. She gazed at him with intense focus, captivated by the strange and beautiful red light emanating from his eyes. That glow seemed to mirror the depths of her own hatred and sorrow, as if the flames of his tormented soul were manifesting through his gaze.
In his eyes, one could read a silent promise one of relentless vengeance. He swore then, with cold determination, to find and severely punish those responsible for her tragedy.
Together, under that quiet night sky, they began to forge a bond a bond built on shared pain and the promise of a transformed future.