FEW DAYS LATER
The gates of the Kingdom of Dragons shut behind Lucas and Vivian with a deep metallic groan.
The sound echoed across the stone like the final note of a long day.
Lucas stretched his arms over his head, shoulders sore but satisfied. Vivian walked beside him, hands clasped behind her back, humming something off-key.
Lanterns flickered along the inner streets. Guards rotated shifts. Merchants packed their stalls. It was the hour where the kingdom exhaled.
They turned toward the outer mission ward — where off-wall assignments were logged — when a voice cut through the evening noise.
"Please… someone tell me where they are."
Lucas slowed.
A woman stood near the notice board, clutching a folded parchment so tightly it crumpled in her hands. Her hair was loose, unkempt, eyes red from either crying or refusing to.
"My husband was part of the squad sent to Blackridge," she said to a tired clerk. "They were supposed to return yesterday."
The clerk avoided her eyes.
Vivian stopped walking.
Lucas glanced at her.
The woman's voice trembled again. "It was just a routine investigation. Why hasn't anyone come back?"
The clerk swallowed. "Reinforcements were dispatched this morning."
"How many?"
"…Two squads."
Silence.
That silence should sit heavy.
Lucas frowned slightly. "Blackridge?"
Vivian didn't answer immediately.
Her cheerful posture had straightened.
"Let's keep walking," she said gently.
But her eyes had changed.
The woman's voice lingered behind them, thin and desperate against the stone streets.
Lucas glanced back once… then forward again.
They continued toward the mission ward.
The evening air smelled of lantern oil and baked bread. Guards laughed somewhere in the distance. Life went on.
Vivian walked with her usual relaxed stride — but her silence was sharper now.
Lucas broke it.
"Hey."
She didn't look at him.
He extended his hand lazily. "Apple."
Vivian sighed dramatically and reached into her bag without slowing down. "You're carrying the bag and still asking me to take things out of it."
"You packed it weird."
She tossed him a red apple without even turning.
Lucas caught it cleanly and took a loud bite.
Crunch.
He chewed for a moment, then spoke with complete seriousness:
"So when do I become a 3-star?"
Vivian stopped mid-step.
Lucas kept walking, chewing.
"I mean, I went toe-to-toe with you today. That's got to count for something."
Vivian turned slowly.
"Toe-to-toe?" she repeated.
Lucas nodded confidently. "I even cut you."
Before he could take another bite—
THUNK.
Vivian flicked him on the forehead.
Not hard.
But precise.
Lucas stumbled back half a step. "Ow?!"
"Continue walking," she said flatly.
He rubbed his forehead. "I'm serious."
"I'm aware," she replied calmly. "That's the problem."
Lucas frowned.
Vivian resumed walking.
"You fought well," she admitted. "But strength isn't rank. Control is. Judgment is. Knowing when not to fight is."
She glanced at him sideways.
"You still swing like you're trying to prove something."
Lucas took another bite, quieter this time.
Behind them, the worried wife's voice cracked again.
And this time, Lucas noticed it.
Vivian noticed that he noticed.
The woman's voice followed them down the street.
"My husband hasn't returned yet… he always comes back before sunset…"
Lucas slowed.
"Think we can help?" he asked quietly.
Vivian didn't stop walking.
"No."
Lucas frowned. "No?"
"It's not our assignment."
"But—"
Vivian's tone hardened slightly. "It's likely a routine delay. Hunters lose track of time. Patrol routes change. Weather shifts."
She kept her gaze forward.
"Don't chase every cry you hear, Lucas. You'll burn out before you become anything."
Lucas looked back once more.
The woman was still there.
Still waiting.
That night, the house was quieter than usual.
Lucas lay on his side, staring at the ceiling.
He replayed her voice in his head.
He didn't sleep well.
Before dawn—
Vivian stepped out of her room tying her hair back… and froze.
Lucas was already awake.
Sitting on the floor.
Sword across his lap.
Fully dressed.
She blinked.
"You planning to invade a nation?" she asked sleepily.
Lucas didn't smile.
"…I was thinking about that lady."
Vivian paused.
He continued, voice low:
"If something actually happened… and everyone just ignored it…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Vivian looked at him.
And for a split second—
She gave him that soft, almost-motherly look.
The one she tries not to show.
"…You're annoying," she muttered gently.
Lucas blinked. "What?"
"Because you make it hard to ignore things."
She turned away so he wouldn't see her expression fully.
"Get ready. We have a mission."
Scene cut.
Outside the walls.
Morning sun hitting stone.
The gates creak open.
Lucas walks beside her, stretching.
"Are we taking another old man who can't walk from Point A to Point B again?"
Vivian turns slowly.
Smirk.
"Yep."
Lucas stares at her.
"You're kidding."
"Nope."
She hands him the map.
"And you're carrying the bag again."
Lucas exhales dramatically.
"You're abusing your power."
Vivian's grin widens.
"Absolutely."
They walk down the dirt path.
Light banter.
They continued down the dirt path, boots crunching softly against gravel and loose stone. The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting long shadows behind them.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Lucas broke the silence.
"Miss, I am honestly bored from all this."
Vivian didn't even look at him. "Kiddo, it's been a few months. I've been doing this for years."
"Years?" Lucas glanced at her, surprised. "But aren't you a 4-star hero? You go on all sorts of missions."
Vivian exhaled through her nose — not annoyed, just… tired.
"Not really."
That was all she said.
Lucas waited for more. Nothing came.
She adjusted the strap on her shoulder and kept walking.
The conversation ended there.
The road narrowed as trees thickened around them. Night settled quietly. Crickets began their rhythm. A faint lantern glow appeared ahead — their destination.
A small wooden house stood near the edge of a clearing. Smoke drifted from its chimney. A figure waited outside, shifting weight from foot to foot.
Vivian raised a hand casually.
"Evening."
Lucas straightened slightly, adjusting the bag on his shoulder.
The person stepped forward to greet them.
The old man greeted them with surprising enthusiasm for someone requesting an escort at dusk. His back was slightly bent, but his eyes were sharp — observant.
"Ah, you must be the assigned warriors," he said, bowing politely. "I appreciate you coming this late."
Vivian returned the bow with her usual easy smile. "No trouble at all. If you're ready, we can begin now."
From behind her, Lucas blinked in disbelief.
"Didn't we just walk for hours?" he muttered under his breath.
Vivian didn't even turn. "Professionalism," she replied calmly.
The old man chuckled. "I am prepared. The sooner we leave, the sooner we arrive."
And just like that, the escort began.
The sky was already darkening into deep blue. Crickets hummed in the distance. A faint breeze brushed the tall grass along the path.
Vivian walked ahead, eyes scanning the tree line, posture relaxed but alert. Lucas stayed behind the old man, map unfolded in one hand, sword at his hip, constantly checking their direction.
"Left turn ahead," Lucas said quietly after glancing at the map. "We follow the stream for half a mile."
Vivian gave a small nod without looking back.
The rhythm of walking settled in — steady steps, quiet night sounds, the old man humming something under his breath.
After some time, Lucas noticed something.
Vivian's stride.
It was subtle. Slightly uneven. Not her usual smooth, confident pace.
Her shoulders seemed tighter. Her breathing just a bit heavier.
Lucas frowned.
Without saying anything, he reached into the bag slung over his shoulder and pulled out a water bottle. With a small flick of his wrist, he tossed it forward.
Vivian caught it without turning.
She paused for half a second before taking a sip.
"…Thanks," she said casually.
Lucas didn't respond, but his eyes stayed on her.
The old man glanced back. "Is everything alright?"
Vivian straightened slightly. "Of course. Just tired."
They walked a little further before the old man cleared his throat.
"It may be wise to rest for the night. The forest gets tricky after midnight."
Vivian considered it for a moment, then nodded. "We'll set up a tent."
They found a small clearing near a cluster of rocks. Lucas helped the old man with the tent while Vivian gathered dry branches for a small fire.
Soon enough, the old man retired into the tent, muttering a quiet goodnight.
The fire crackled softly.
Lucas and Vivian sat across from each other, simple rations laid out between them.
For a moment, it was peaceful.
Lucas broke the silence first.
"What's up?"
Vivian looked at him blankly. "What do you mean?"
"You've been off since the village," he said, lowering his voice. "And your steps were shaky earlier."
Vivian stared at the fire for a few seconds before answering.
"…Just feeling a little sick."
Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly.
She waved a hand dismissively. "Relax. I can definitely handle a boar."
Lucas almost smiled at that.
"Good," he muttered. "Wouldn't want the mighty 4-star hero losing to wildlife."
Vivian snorted softly.
But when Lucas looked up again, he noticed something else.
Her fingers.
They were trembling — just slightly — as she adjusted her sleeve.
And for the first time that night…
Vivian wasn't looking at the trees.
She was listening to something.
Something deeper in the dark.
They resumed before dawn.
The sky was still a deep grey-blue, the kind of hour where the world hadn't decided whether to wake up or stay asleep. The fire had been put out. The tent folded. The old man surprisingly energetic for someone his age.
Vivian walked ahead again.
And this time, her steps were steady.
No shake. No uneven rhythm.
Lucas noticed.
He didn't say anything.
He simply unfolded the map and walked slightly behind the old man, eyes scanning both parchment and tree line. The forest felt thinner now, the air colder, quieter.
Too quiet.
Even the birds weren't singing yet.
Lucas frowned slightly.
A sound cut through the stillness.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just—
Whshhht.
Lucas turned on instinct.
A spear tore through the air from behind.
Metal glinting in the dim light.
Without hesitation, Lucas twisted his body and brought his sword up in one clean motion.
CLANG.
The spear deflected sideways, spinning off into the trees.
The old man gasped.
Vivian's expression changed instantly.
No smile. No playfulness.
She stepped back toward them.
"Close in," she said calmly.
Lucas moved without thinking.
He positioned himself beside the old man, slightly forward, blade angled downward but ready.
Vivian shifted to the front.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Protect him," she instructed.
Lucas nodded once.
He inhaled slowly.
The world sharpened.
Lock-on.
His gaze swept the trees.
Angles. Shadows. Possible trajectories.
He waited.
No movement.
Just darkness between trunks.
The wind barely moved.
Vivian's hand hovered near her sword.
Lucas felt it.
That tension.
That invisible pressure before something breaks.
Then—
From the darkness between the trees…
Three figures stepped forward.
Silent.
Watching.
And the forest, which had been quiet before—
Now felt like it was holding its breath.