Near the colossal tree.
A creature crawled swiftly toward its towering form, its many legs moving in a rhythmic skitter. As soon as it reached the edge of the enormous shadow cast by the tree, it froze.
The creature was a demonic cockroach. Its long antennae quivered, sweeping the air as if sensing an unseen threat lurking within the darkness.
"It's just a big shade. What are you scared of? Aren't you a cockroach?" a lazy voice drawled.
A skinny man with unkempt brown hair lounged on a chair strapped to the cockroach's back, one leg dangling idly.
The antennae twitched erratically, as if to argue with its master's mockery.
"Oh? You're saying the shade feels… ominous?" The man's casual tone faltered, a hint of unease creeping in. "If even a cockroach thinks so, then maybe I should be worried too. I'd rather not run into any ghosts."
He straightened slightly, his once-lazy gaze sharpening as he scanned the vast shadow ahead.
All around, the remnants of civilization sprawled in silence. Buildings outside the shade had long since crumbled into heaps of stone and dust. But within the shadow's reach, the structures stood eerily intact, as though time itself had passed them by. No sun. No rain. Nothing to rot them away.
The man tilted his head back, gazing toward the distant source of the colossal shadow.
"What an enormous tree…" he muttered under his breath. "I still can't figure out how something like this even exists. The trunk's still so far away, yet its canopy stretches all the way here."
His eyes swept across the horizon. The tree's branches spanned like a continent of their own, blotting out the sky.
"I guess that's because this whole land is ridiculously huge," he mused with a soft chuckle. "Two years just to get here… If I could fly, it would've been faster. But still, Matara's pretty fast herself."
His gaze softened as his mind drifted back to the beginning of this long journey, back when he first set foot into this world.
He had stumbled upon what he thought was a mountain, a jagged, endless rise of earth stretching into the clouds. Only later did he realize it was no mountain at all, but a root. A single root of the colossal tree.
That day, fear had gripped him. If the roots alone dwarfed mountains, then what of the trunk? The branches? What kind of being could birth such a monstrosity? For weeks, he avoided going near, haunted by thoughts of being swallowed whole by some unfathomable power.
Even now, the memory sent a chill through him.
But after two years, fear had faded.
He'd seen no sign of danger from the tree, no curses, no predatory will. Just silent, towering majesty. If anything, it was the humans who were the real monsters. Every person he'd met so far had tried to kill him for no reason. Every encounter was a fight for survival.
Thankfully, he was good at surviving.
A crooked smile tugged at his lips. "Thanks to this shade, everything here's been preserved. Who knows what treasures are waiting for us?" His eyes gleamed with greed. "Matara, we're going to loot anything valuable we find! Let's just hope no one else is here to get in our way."
He gave the massive cockroach beneath him a light tap. The creature's antennae twitched, and it scuttled forward into the endless shadow.
The man was Asmondol.
---
"Oi, you stupid bitch! What was your name again? Ah, right, bitch Lumine! Why the hell isn't the food ready yet? It's been an entire day! His Highness is starving already! Are you really a Spirit Gourmet Maestro or just a fraud?"
A man in a royal guard uniform kicked the door open and stormed into the vast kitchen, his voice echoing through the chamber like a whip crack.
"Tch! Don't you see I'm busy here?" Lumine snapped, slamming a ladle onto the counter. "Don't interrupt my process! Do you have any idea how many dishes you ordered? You want heavenly cuisine, right? Then shut up and wait! Gods, you're annoying!"
Her golden eyes burned with fury, but deep inside, frustration gnawed at her.
Everything had gone downhill the moment Valenia ditched the group. Lumine's carefully laid plans crumbled like dry bread, leaving her seething.
And then came the humiliation.
The moment they entered the colossal tree's shade, two figures appeared out of nowhere and in the blink of an eye, the entire group was subdued.
Royal guards.
The mere sight of their uniforms now made her stomach twist.
Back then, they had seven people on their side, seven skilled ladies, all banding together. Against two men. Lumine thought they had the upper hand. She could not have been more wrong.
She had heard the rumors before, that royal guards were monsters in human skin, warriors so deadly they could topple sects on their own. She used to laugh at those tales, calling them propaganda.
Now, shackled in their shadow, she knew the truth. They were terrifying. Every bit as dangerous as the whispers claimed.
Then, they were given two choices: obey the prince or die. There was no room for negotiation. In the end, they had no choice but to join the prince's group.
The humiliation didn't stop there. Each of them was forced to wear a collar-type spirit artifact around their neck. With a single thought from the owner, the collar could end their lives instantly. Worse, if they wandered too far from the prince, the artifact would decapitate them without warning.
They weren't companions. They weren't even followers. They were slaves.
Lumine gritted her teeth as the cold metal dug into her skin. So far, more than fifty people had been captured and bound in the same way, all wearing the same cursed collar of servitude.
"What did you say, bitch? Are you talking back to me? Hmph! Sounds like someone needs discipline."
The royal guard's voice was dripping with hostility as he stepped forward, murder gleaming in his eyes. His killing intent rolled off him in waves, making the room colder.
Lumine's hand trembled slightly, but she refused to look away.
The guard raised his arm, ready to make a move, but another voice cut through the tension.
"Soda, enough."
A calm figure entered the kitchen. A handsome man with golden blond hair and sharp, composed eyes stepped into view. His presence alone seemed to erase the suffocating atmosphere.
"You are a royal guard, not a street hooligan. Mind your manners. Do you want His Highness to lose face because of you?"
His tone was firm yet collected, a stark contrast to the aggressive aura of the man named Soda, whose twisted sneer betrayed his foul nature.
"Heh. Franze, Franze. Are you here to play the hero again? For what? This bitch isn't even that pretty. Nobody wants her."
Lumine's temple throbbed, a vein pulsing on her forehead. Who says nobody wants me? Back in my city, people lined up for a single taste of my heavenly dishes! What do you know, you stupid man? Stupid! Idiot! Moron! Argh, I'm so angry I could boil you alive!
"So what if I act like a hooligan? Does it bother you? Make me stop then, if you can, Franze." Soda's sneer widened as his hostility grew.
Franze didn't flinch. His tone remained calm, steady as ever. "His Highness said we cannot lay hands on our volunteers. You can scream like a monkey all you like, but anything physical is forbidden. Have you forgotten already?"
Lumine's forehead vein pulsed harder. Volunteer? Volunteer? Are you insane? We were forced to work for your stupid prince at the cost of our lives! There is nothing voluntary here! Argh! Both of you are pissing me off! One is a vulgar idiot and the other is a self-righteous poser! Just leave me alone and let me cook!
"What did you say? Did you call me a monkey? Fuck you, two-faced blondie!" Soda roared, stepping closer.
Before the tension could snap, a cheerful, almost childish voice broke in.
"Oh no... it's so loud in here. Is there a fight? Let me see, let me see! Ah, it's just you two."
Both men stiffened immediately. Their hostility evaporated in an instant as they turned and bowed slightly toward the newcomer.
"Your Highness Charles."
If Leyvi heard the name Prince Charles, his curiosity would spike instantly. Charles was the one prince excluded from the assassination list. Leyvi suspected he was a scapegoat, framed by the mastermind behind the plot. The name alone would set his mind racing with questions.
Prince Charles tilted his head, his voice light and playful. "Are you two fighting again? Oh no, no. You can't keep doing this. Both of you are my precious subordinates. You must get along, okay? We have so many roles filled now. I'm so happy. Our adventures will be so much fun! Don't ruin it with constant fighting," he said. His childlike tone matched his innocent mannerisms.
"Yes, Your Highness," Soda and Franze replied in unison. Their voices carried polite deference.