As Vergil left Rotroot Forest at dusk, an eerie silence settled around him. The bioluminescent fungi pulsed weakly, casting faint, sickly light over the twisted roots that clawed at the path. Shadows stretched unnaturally, shifting in ways that made his skin crawl.
The dead oak loomed ahead, its hollow maw darker than before. As he passed, a chill crept up his spine, the feeling of unseen eyes pressing in from the tangled trees. The wind had died, leaving only the weight of something unseen lingering behind him.
Then, through the thinning trees, Vaelmont's lanterns flickered in the distance. He quickened his pace, resisting the urge to look back. But just as he stepped onto firmer ground, a whisper—soft, breathy, almost human—brushed against his ear.
Vergil kept walking. He didn't turn around.
As the sky deepened into twilight, Vergil finally returned, stretching as he stepped through the entrance. "Finally back," he muttered, rolling his shoulders to ease the stiffness from hauling supplies.
He glanced at his inventory, nodding in satisfaction. I've stored all the mana crystals... Didn't know they were stackable. Interesting.
Curiosity sparked, he turned his thoughts to training. System, how do I use the mana crystals to improve?
"To refine the Astralyth Stone, you must break down its energy and convert it into a form your body can use. This requires a breathing technique suited to your energy type."
Vergil frowned. A breathing technique? I don't have one yet…
"System, can you give me a breathing technique?" he asked hopefully.
[Who do you think I am, your mama?]
Vergil sighed, feeling his small chance of scamming the system out of a free technique slip away. "Chill out," he muttered, shaking his head.
With that avenue closed, he turned his attention elsewhere. Well, let's head back to the guild. It should still be open.
By the time he arrived, the guild hall was bathed in the warm glow of hanging lanterns, the evening rush still in full swing. He made his way to the front desk, where the receptionist from earlier remained at her post.
She sat upright, maintaining an air of quiet professionalism despite the long hours. Her sharp brown eyes flicked toward him as he approached, her dark broen hair neatly pinned back, though a few stray strands had slipped loose over the course of the evening. The golden light accentuated her smooth features, a mix of composed elegance and quiet fatigue. Even as the guild bustled around her, she remained focused, her hands moving with practiced efficiency as she updated the guild's records.
Vergil stepped forward, clearing his throat. "Still here?"
As Vergil approached the counter, She looked up from her work and gave him a small smile. "Hi there, still going strong?"
"Yeah," he said, setting down the ten Astralyth crystals he had collected from the goblins.
Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Amazing. It hasn't even been a full day since I gave you this mission."
Vergil scratched the back of his head. "I was just lucky, I guess."
She glanced at the crystals, mentally calculating. "The mission was originally for five goblins, so the base reward was 25 bronze coins. But since you've brought back double the amount, that brings your total to 50 bronze coins."
Vergil nodded as he listened, his mind already working through his next steps. Not bad for the first day… He had expected the pay to be minimal, considering it was just an F-rank mission, but this was already a step toward escaping poverty. Soon… soon I'll get out of this.
"Broke boy, keep dreaming," the system chimed in with a mocking tone.
Shut up, I'm in the moment, Vergil shot back mentally.
"Uh, Vergil? Aren't you going to take the money?" Elena's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Vergil blinked and quickly grabbed the pouch of coins. "Right, thanks—uh, what's your name?"
She tilted her head slightly before giving him a bright smile. "Elina. Elena Velcraft"
"Thanks, Elina," Vergil said, offering a small nod before turning to leave.
As he stepped outside, a yawn crept up on him, and he stretched his arms above his head. I should find a place to sleep… Then, realization hit him like a brick. Wait, do I even have a place to sleep? Is there even an inn around here?
His expression shifted to one of mild panic, and without wasting another second, he quickly turned on his heel and marched straight back into the guild.
Elena raised an eyebrow as he reappeared at the counter. "Forget something?"
"Yeah, uh… do you know where the inn is?" he asked, trying not to sound too desperate.
Elena chuckled, shaking her head before giving him a brief rundown of the directions. "Just head down the main road, take a left at the blacksmith's shop, and you'll see it on the right. It's called The Iron Hearth. They should still have rooms available this late."
"Got it, thanks," Vergil said with a relieved sigh before heading out again.
Following her directions, he soon arrived at the inn and stepped up to the front desk, where a gruff-looking man was flipping through a ledger.
"Do you have a room I can rent?" Vergil asked, already reaching for his coins.
The man barely glanced up before responding, "Sorry, there ain't any rooms available at the moment."
Vergil's eye twitched. Fuck!
"Homeless on the first day. Couldn't be me," the system snickered.
"Oh, be quiet. Where do you even live, huh?" Vergil grumbled inwardly.
"A place called home, homeless boy."
Vergil sighed, knowing there was no comeback to that. He turned back toward the street, considering his options. He only knew one other person in town thay considered him a friend, and while it wasn't ideal, he figured it was worth a shot.
Guess I'll just ask Elvira.
Vergil walked through the quiet streets, making his way toward Elvira's home. The night air was crisp, and the dim glow of lanterns barely illuminated the worn path. When he reached the door, he hesitated for a moment before knocking three times.
A few seconds passed before the door creaked open, revealing Elvira's weathered yet kind face. She glanced at him, a hint of concern in her tired eyes.
"Oh, Vergil. Do you need something?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. "Yeah, uh… the inn is full, and I don't have anywhere to stay. Would it be alright if I slept here for the night? Just until I can get a room."
Elvira's lips curled into a small smile, and she stepped aside without hesitation. "Of course, lad. It gets lonely here sometimes… You're always welcome to stay."
Vergil felt a pang of guilt at her words. Does she have no family? No one to keep her company? He swallowed the uneasy feeling as he stepped inside, watching as Elvira lit a small oil lamp, casting a warm but flickering glow around the modest home.
"I only have one bed," she said, turning to him. "You can sleep on it. I'll take the chair."
Vergil immediately shook his head. "No, I'll sleep on the chair. It wouldn't feel right taking the bed."
"Zip it, lad." Elvira chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "The chair's better suited for me, and you need proper rest."
Vergil hesitated but eventually sighed in defeat. "Alright… Thanks." He set his gear down—his dagger, bow, and quiver—before sitting on the edge of the bed.
After a brief silence, he finally asked, "Elvira, don't you have any family?"
Elvira leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. For a long moment, she didn't answer. Then, with a voice tinged with something distant, she murmured, "Not anymore."
Vergil watched as her expression turned unreadable. He could see something in her eyes—memories, ghosts of a past she hadn't spoken about. He thought about pressing further but decided against it.
Instead, he let out a soft breath and said, "I have a sister… but she's far away. I don't even know where she is. But I'll find her one day."
As he spoke, his hand instinctively reached for the pendant he had found earlier—the one belonging to the corpse of Edran.
Something about it still nagged at him. A feeling, like an unfinished story waiting to be told.
"Elvira…" he began cautiously. "Do you know someone named Elira Velmont?"
At the mention of the name, Elvira's eyes snapped toward him, her face shifting from calm contemplation to concern. "Yes, I do," she said slowly. "Elira's son went out hunting two days ago… but he hasn't returned. Why do you ask?"
Vergil clenched his fist around the pendant and took a slow breath. He had expected this, but it still felt heavy. He looked up, meeting Elvira's gaze, his voice quieter now.
"I found his body while I was out hunting," he admitted. "He… he didn't make it back."
Elvira's expression barely changed, but something in her eyes dimmed. For a moment, she just sat there, processing his words in silence.
Then, she let out a quiet sigh and turned her gaze back to the ceiling. "I see…"
There was no dramatic outburst, no tears—just quiet acceptance, the kind that only comes from someone who has already lost too much.
Vergil swallowed the lump in his throat. He had delivered bad news before, but this felt different. It wasn't just a report—it was a reminder of how fragile life was, how quickly someone could be here one moment and gone the next.
"I'm sorry," he said, though he knew it wouldn't change anything.
Elvira gave him a tired, weary smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's not your fault, lad, did he have anything on him."
Elvira gave Vergil a tired, weary smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. The weight of unspoken grief hung between them.
"It's not your fault, lad," she said softly. "Did he have anything on him?"
Vergil's fingers tightened around the necklace in his palm. "Yeah. This."
She held out her hand. "Give it to me. I'll return it. You're too young to carry this weight."
Vergil exhaled through his nose, then placed the necklace in her hand. "It won't change anything." His voice was steady, but hollow.
Elvira studied him for a moment, as if searching for something beneath his cold exterior, but found nothing. She simply closed her fingers around the necklace and sighed.
Vergil turned away before she could say anything else.
Silence settled between them, heavy and unshakable. Outside, the wind whispered against the walls of the small home, carrying with it the weight of another life lost to the wilderness.
Vergil closed his eyes, gripping the pendant a little tighter. Think of this as my payment, the least I can do for you is return your pendant and your clothes.
For now, though, all he could do was rest.
The sound of rain tapping against glass filled the air, soft at first, then growing louder, heavier. The world felt distant, muffled, as if submerged in water.
Vergil's eyes slowly opened, his vision blurred by pain and the dim glow of streetlights filtering through the rain-soaked night. His head throbbed, his body numb, trapped against the seat by a torn seatbelt digging into his chest. The metallic taste of blood lingered in his mouth.
Then, he heard it.
A quiet sob.
Vergil forced his head to the side, his neck stiff, every movement sending a dull ache through his body. Amidst the twisted wreckage, a small figure trembled in the backseat, barely illuminated by the faint red glow of the broken taillights.
This memory of his. Was it when he was born or something else he could not remember. The only words he could remember were
"I can't take care of him"
He couldnt tell the gender. But Vergil was certain it was his father. Was it because his mother died during labour or was it out of selfishness. The answer was unclear, and Vergil couldnt care less.
Then, a voice.
"Vergil."
It was distant, yet firm, cutting through the darkness.
"Vergil, wake up."
His body jerked violently, as if pulled from the depths of the ocean.
His eyes snapped open.
The dim glow of an oil lamp flickered in the small wooden house. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heartbeat hammering against his ribs. Sweat clung to his skin, his hands trembling.
It wasn't just a dream.
It was a memory.
Vergil exhaled shakily, pressing a hand against his forehead.
"Of all things… it had to be that." Vergil muttered under his breath.
With a weary sigh, he closed his eyes, forcing himself to push the memories away. Sleep reclaimed him once more.