"Whoa…" Krad breathed, his voice barely audible. He turned in a slow circle, his head craned upward to take it all in. "This place is insane."
Mist stepped forward, his posture relaxed but his eyes scanning the surroundings with quiet vigilance.
"Welcome," he said, his tone even and measured, "to the Kingdom of Dilim."
Krad's mind replayed the potion seller's words as if they had been spoken moments ago:
The Kingdom of Dilim… they're famous for their unique materials. Rare ores and enchanted gems that can be forged into permanent weapons. Weapons strong enough to last a lifetime, imbued with properties that grow alongside their wielder.
He could still hear the old man's voice, steady yet firm.
You need a permanent weapon that can be upgraded as you grow stronger. Squad's won't accept members without adequate equipment and skills.
His fists tightened. Every word echoed with purpose, fueling his determination. This was the moment he had prepared for.
He glanced at Mist, who stood with quiet confidence, his gaze fixed on the distant castle ruins. The way he carried himself. Calm, commanding, and always a step ahead made Krad feel both in awe and slightly inadequate. The thought struck him like a thunderbolt: This guy... he's too powerful. Too experienced.
He hesitated, then decided to voice his suspicion. "Hey," Krad began, his voice tinged with curiosity, "are you... by any chance, a Squad Captain?"
Mist's shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly, but he didn't turn around immediately. For a moment, Krad thought he'd overstepped. But then Mist glanced over his shoulder, his piercing eyes locking onto him.
"Yes," Mist said simply.
Krad's jaw dropped. "Wait, what? Seriously? You're the Captain of Tiger Squad?"
Mist turned fully now, his expression unreadable. "Was that not obvious?"
Krad stumbled over his words, his excitement bubbling over. "I mean, I thought you might be strong or something, but a Squad Captain? That's a whole other level! How many members do you have? Can I join---"
Mist held up a hand, silencing him. "Calm yourself. This isn't the time for a fanfare of questions."
Krad flushed but couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face.
"Still, that's amazing! You must be insanely strong. I mean, I knew you were no ordinary guy, but a Squad Captain? That's incredible!"
Mist sighed, though a faint smirk played on his lips. "Strength alone doesn't make you a Captain. A Squad is built on trust, teamwork, and leadership. Titles mean little without those."
Krad nodded fervently, though his thoughts were already racing. If Mist was a Captain, then maybe he could help him get closer to his dream of joining a squad. He hesitated for a moment, glancing down at his fists, "What kind of weapon do you think would fit me... Captain?"
Mist froze mid-step, then let out a low, amused chuckle. It grew into a full-bodied laugh, his voice echoing across the ancient plaza. Krad frowned, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"What's so funny?" he demanded, his tone defensive.
Mist wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, his grin mischievous. "I heard about a kid once. He told a potion seller bold as brass that he didn't need a weapon because his fists were his weapon."
Krad's eyes widened as the memory hit him like a lightning bolt. "Your fists?" the old man had echoed, his laugh shaking the shop. "Against Devourer Slimes?!"
His face turned bright red. "Wait... how do you know about that?"
Mist smirked knowingly, crossing his arms. "The potion seller? He's an old friend. He told me the story of a crazy kid who walked into his shop claiming to fight Devourer Slimes bare-handed. Said the kid was so confident he nearly choked on his tea."
Krad groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You've got to be kidding me."
Mist's laughter softened, though his eyes still sparkled with amusement.
"Relax, Krad." His voice dropped, carrying a weight that silenced the humor in the air. "But here's the thing. He wasn't laughing at you. He was preparing you."
Krad frowned, lowering his hands.
"Preparing me? For what?"
Mist's smirk vanished, replaced by an expression of quiet intensity.
"For this. For the truth of who you are."
Krad blinked, confused. "What do you mean? I don't have a weapon. That's why I'm here...to find one and get stronger."
Mist stepped closer, his piercing gaze locking onto him. "You're wrong. You already have one."
"What?" Krad's heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about?"
Mist gestured to Krad's clenched fist. "This. Your fists. Your body. They are your weapon."
He opened his mouth to argue, but Mist held up a hand to stop him.
"Think about it," Mist continued. "You've always relied on your strength, your instinct, your determination. You've faced challenges that most wouldn't dare to take on at level 0, and you've done it without a blade or bow. We saw it in you. That's why we sent you here."
Krad's breath caught in his throat.
"You're saying… you knew? That I wouldn't need a weapon?"
Mist nodded slowly. "Exactly. Dilim isn't just a place to find weapons. It's a place where warriors are forged. It's where those with unique potential come to unlock their true power. The potion seller sent you here because this is your training ground. Your proving ground."
The weight of Mist's words pressed down on Krad's chest. Memories of the potion seller flooded his mind: the way the old man had smiled knowingly, the way his words had seemed to carry hidden meanings.
"A permanent weapon… one that grows with you…"
He looked down at his left hand, flexing his fingers. Could it really be true? Could his fists be the weapon he'd been searching for all along?
"But…" Krad's voice wavered. "How can fists be enough? Against monsters? Against Liyab… Against player like you?" He looked up at Mist, his insecurities spilling out. "You've got magic. Swords. Entire guilds backing you up. What do I have? Just these?" He raised his fists, frustration evident in his voice.
Mist's expression softened, but his tone remained firm. "You have more than you realize. And Dilim will prove it to you."
Before Krad could respond, the ground beneath them began to tremble. The glowing green vines wrapped around the columns pulsed brighter, and a deep, resonant hum filled the air. Mist's eyes narrowed as he turned toward the source of the disturbance.
"It's starting," he said grimly.
"What's starting?" he asked, his voice tinged with panic.
Mist didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pointed toward the ruins of the castle. The mist that had been drifting lazily moments ago now swirled violently, forming a vortex that seemed to pull the very light from the air.
"This is your first trial," Mist said, his voice steady but urgent. "The guardians of Dilim are awakening. They'll test you... not just your strength, but your resolve. If you truly believe in your fists as your weapon, you'll prove it here."
He swallowed hard. "And if I fail?"
Mist's gaze was unyielding. "Then this place will devour you, together with the Moon Eater."
A chill ran down Krad's spine, but he clenched his fists tighter, the weight of his choice pressing down on him. The potion seller's words echoed in his mind once more.
"Weapons strong enough to last a lifetime… imbued with properties that grow alongside their wielder."
This wasn't just a journey for a weapon... it was a journey to understand himself.
"Alright," Krad said, his voice steady despite the fear coursing through him. "Let's see what this guardians has got."