The familiar wooden rooftops of Orleaf came into view as Yoshiya and Omina made their way along the dirt path leading into town. The journey back had been quiet, their packs lighter without quest spoils, and their pace unhurried. With only two days left before Omina's exam, they had decided to take no more quests, choosing instead to recover and prepare. Their silver reserves, while not overflowing, were enough to cover food and lodging until then.
"Feels strange," Omina murmured as they crossed the stone bridge leading into the town square. "Not chasing after monsters or running guild errands."
Yoshiya gave a faint smile. "Strange, but… maybe good. You'll need all your strength for the exam."
Omina chuckled softly, though her gaze lingered on the horizon as if restless.
They soon reached a modest home on the edge of town, where the faint smoke of a hearth drifted lazily into the sky. Mako greeted them at the door, his wiry frame framed against the warm light inside. His expression softened when his eyes landed on Yoshiya's new insignia.
"So, it's true," Mako said with a small grin. "You've advanced. A White Mage at last."
"Only because of your help," Yoshiya replied with a respectful bow.
Mako waved it off and gestured them inside. The room smelled faintly of herbs and old ink, shelves lined with scrolls and well-worn tomes. Once they were seated, Yoshiya reached into his pack and carefully pulled out a folded note he had scribbled from memory back in Reflynne's library.
"I came across something," Yoshiya began. "A record of Ostoria's nine cities. But the texts were vague, broken in parts. I thought… maybe you'd know more."
Mako's gaze sharpened. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepling. For a long moment he said nothing, only letting the silence stretch. At last, he exhaled slowly.
"Ostoria…" His tone carried both weight and weariness. "Our kingdom has always been called weak. And in a sense, it's true. While others built armies and fortresses, Ostoria built markets, theaters, schools of art. Our cities thrived on trade, laughter, and comfort—not war."
He rose and crossed to one of his shelves, pulling free a leather-bound tome whose edges were frayed with age. He placed it on the table between them, flipping carefully through yellowed pages. Maps and sketches appeared—cities, banners, lines of text written in faded ink.
"Five hundred years ago, this world was at peace," Mako continued. "Seven nations. Different cultures, different strengths, but none at war. Until the Demon Lord arose."
The air seemed to thicken at his words. Even Omina leaned forward, eyes wide.
"Each nation sent forth a champion—a hero chosen by their people. Seven heroes in all. They marched into the Demon Lord's domain to end the tide of darkness. Six never returned. Only one survived."
Yoshiya's brows furrowed. "The Ostorian hero?"
Mako nodded. "A woman, brave beyond measure. Her name has been lost to most records—perhaps deliberately, perhaps by time. But it is written she struck the final blow that drove the Demon Lord back. Since then, his forces have been silent. Peace returned."
He closed the book with a soft thud, his eyes darkening. "But peace is a fragile thing. With no common enemy left, the seven nations turned on one another. Ambition grew. Borders shifted. Wars of conquest replaced the war against the Demon Lord."
"And now?" Omina asked quietly.
"Now…" Mako's voice lowered, almost conspiratorial. "Two nations stand above the rest. Valeria and Aurelia. Military powers. Ruthless in their strategies. While Ostoria traded and sang, they trained and armed. And I suspect…" He hesitated, his gaze narrowing. "…I suspect it is their hand behind the monster uprisings you've seen. Doom Forest. Oakwood. Do you think it coincidence? I do not."
Yoshiya's stomach tightened. The thought of human nations unleashing monsters as weapons was chilling. Yet the pieces seemed to align—too many invasions, too sudden, too organized.
"Why would they do this?" Omina asked, her voice tight.
"Control," Mako answered simply. "Drive Ostoria's people into fear, scatter its strength, then sweep in as saviors. In time, even Orleaf, Korvath, and Reflynne could fall. And when the last three cities are gone, Ostoria itself will vanish from the world map."
Silence fell, broken only by the faint crackle of the hearth.
Mako leaned forward, his gaze steady on the two young adventurers. "You wanted truth. There it is. But truth comes with weight. If the shadows of history repeat, the world may have no hero waiting this time."
For a while, none of them spoke. Omina's hand rested lightly on her knee, her jaw tight. Yoshiya's mind spun with questions, but none seemed to have answers.
At last, Mako softened his tone. "For now, focus on what you can change. Your exam is in two days, girl. You will need clarity of mind. The future may depend on how strong you both become."
When they left his home, the streets of Orleaf felt quieter, almost heavy. Children's laughter still carried from the square, and merchants still haggled over goods, but for Yoshiya and Omina, the world seemed darker.
As they walked side by side, Omina's voice broke the silence. "If what Mako said is true… then my choice of class matters more than I thought."
Yoshiya looked at her, unable to offer reassurance, only a quiet nod.
Above them, the stars began to pierce the twilight sky—beautiful, distant, and fragile, like the fate of their kingdom.