Under a thin blanket of early morning clouds, where everything was still veiled in darkness, a young man was busy sorting through the baggage he would be carrying far to the west.
Because his body could not process magic, Yujin had to treat his injuries the manual, old-fashioned way. He had been doing this ever since his very first training session with Kluivert. The only difference this time was that there would be no hellish, bone-breaking training waiting for him the next morning.
"Meet me in my office tomorrow morning. We will conduct a briefing before your departure to Nerthvale Village." Those words echoed in Yujin's mind. The day before departure, Kluivert had approached him with an uncharacteristically solemn expression.
Why the hell do we need a briefing at the crack of dawn anyway? What a drag, the youth muttered to himself. Despite his reluctance, he reached for his black sword resting limply in the corner of the room. The weapon felt heavier this morning—or perhaps it was just his own body rapidly approaching its absolute limit.
His steps dragged slightly. Every footfall against the wooden floorboards of his dormitory sent a sharp wave of agony straight to his cracked ribs—the lingering "parting gift" from yesterday’s beating, a physical trauma that even the most expensive magical potions couldn't touch.
Yet, because of the sheer discipline Kluivert had hammered into him, Yujin always obeyed every command, no matter how inherently reckless or dangerous the task seemed.
Reaching the office, Yujin knocked on the thick teak door. From behind it, the familiar scent of cheap tobacco and ancient parchment greeted him. But Kluivert wasn't laughing today. The old man was staring intensely at a map of the western region, his brows knit tightly together.
Kaien, who was already waiting in the corner of the room, motioned for Yujin to join them.
"I'm here, Mr. Kluivert," Yujin said as he approached the desk.
Kluivert didn't look up. His calloused fingers traced a stark red line on the map—the route leading to Nerthvale. "Come closer, Yujin. There is something that wasn't written on the Guild's official mission sheets," his voice was raspy, completely devoid of his usual boisterous enthusiasm.
"What's wrong?"
Kluivert pointed toward one of the red-lined paths. "The main route to the western region is entirely choked by a dense fog. We’ve received multiple reports stating that horse carriages entering the area vanish completely without a trace."
"Then what should we do?" Kaien, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke up. "Are there any alternative routes that can get us through?"
Kluivert’s gaze shifted to the few remaining viable paths on the parchment. "While there are alternative bypasses, this fog has been documented to spread and creep into neighboring territories at an alarming speed."
"Then which path are we taking?" Yujin asked, resting his left hand on the table to support his aching torso.
The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. Both of them were genuinely stumped by the gravity of the situation. In truth, Kluivert could have easily ordered them to plunge straight into the fog toward the western territory of Aethelgard, but the old man genuinely cared about the survival of his young adventurers.
Breaking the gridlock, Kaien finally opted for a path that sat considerably further out than their original trajectory. Stepping closer to the table, he pointed, "In my opinion, this route is safer. Besides keeping us well clear of the epicenter, it also provides the fastest access back toward the capital if things go south."
Yujin raised his hand after Kaien finished speaking. "I agree. Not only is it safer, but it also aligns closer to our ultimate destination," the youth added, pointing at the designated coordinates on the map.
Yujin locked eyes with Kluivert, who seemed momentarily lost in thought. It was the first time Yujin had ever seen the legendary Guild Master look so visibly conflicted. "We'll be fine, sir. Besides, the lives of the villagers over there hang in the balance."
Kluivert let out a long, heavy exhale, a dense cloud of tobacco smoke billowing into the air. He knew damn well that sending these young adventurers into Aethelgard right now was akin to marching them into a monster's maw. But seeing the unwavering resolve burning in Yujin's eyes, he had no choice but to place his bet on them.
"Fine. Take that route," Kluivert's voice shattered the silence. He pushed himself up from his chair, watching the backs of the two youths as they turned to leave.
"Remember one thing. In Aethelgard, your greatest adversary isn't just the monsters... it's your own absolute terror when the mist begins to swallow the light."
Yujin didn't look back. He merely gave a firm, subtle nod, tightening his grip on his bag. The heavy teak door shut behind them with a muffled thud.
Inside a dormitory room that practically reeked of topical antibiotics, Yujin was frantically packing the rest of his gear for Nerthvale—the very place where he would soon have to fight tooth and nail just to survive.
"Yujin, the carriage is ready. You better hurry up," Kaien’s voice echoed from behind the outer door, accompanied by a brisk knock.
"Right, I'll be right out," the youth called back.
Once he finished packing, he immediately headed to the front of the Guild, where Kluivert and Viola were already waiting. Wait, why the hell is Viola here? Yujin muttered internally.
The old man walked up to Yujin, firmly planting his right hand onto the youth’s shoulder. "Keep your wits about you out there. Remember, never let pity dictate your actions, or it'll lead you straight to your grave," he said curtly.
As Yujin nodded softly, Kluivert reached beneath his heavy cloak and pulled out an object—a necklace bearing a dull, matte black stone pendant bound by a simple leather cord. He carefully looped it around Yujin's neck.
"This is an Obsidian Heart. This stone will vibrate violently if anyone or anything with malicious intent steps into your vicinity," Kluivert whispered with absolute gravity. "Rely on your instincts, Yujin. Not your eyes."
Yujin touched the cold, unpolished stone. His eyes flicked over to Viola, who stood a few paces away near the carriage. The girl didn't say a word, but her gaze was laced with a rare, undeniable trace of anxiety.
"Come back alive, Yujin," Viola said softly, her voice nearly drowned out by the restless snorting of the horses.
Without offering a verbal reply, Yujin gave a small nod and leapt onto the carriage cabin, where Kaien was already waiting with a completely flat, expressionless face. The carriage jolted forward, the Guild gates slowly shrinking into the distance.
The carriage rolled smoothly across grasslands that were rapidly losing their daytime warmth. The waning afternoon light filtered through the window, reflecting off the metal iron rails and damp foliage outside. From this vantage point, the west looked infinitely more grim. Ominous grey clouds hung low in the atmosphere, as if a downpour was merely biding its time.
Yujin let out a sigh, leaning his head against the frame as he watched the scenery blur past. Meanwhile, Kaien sat directly opposite him, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Why the hell does he keep staring at me? Yujin thought, feeling irritated.
"If you have a question about me, just ask it. Stop glaring at me like that," Yujin stated bluntly, without even turning his head.
Yujin had already noticed that Kaien was also sporting a necklace. It featured a silver pendant composed of three overlapping concentric circles, intricately engraved with a stalk of wheat and a miniature sun dead-center.
"If you're not going to talk, then I will," Yujin said, shifting his gaze directly to Kaien. "What's that necklace you're wearing? Some kind of protection charm?"
Kaien remained quiet for a long moment, his eyes dropping to Yujin’s obsidian pendant before he looked out his own window.
"This?" he muttered, casually grasping the silver emblem. "I obtained it from a church near the western border."
"A church?" Yujin inquired.
"Yes. I am a follower of the Arkhe of Prosperity, Aurelyne."
Ah, Yujin thought. I feel like I've heard that title thrown around somewhere before.
Kaien dropped his hand, his sharp gaze locking onto Yujin’s black stone before settling on the youth’s eyes with newfound curiosity. "If you don't mind me asking, do you worship an Arkhe? I've never seen a divine symbol like that one before."
Yujin shook his head slowly. "I don't worship any Arkhe. This was given to me by Mr. Kluivert," he explained, lightly tapping the old man's gift.
"Hmm," Kaien hummed, nodding in understanding. "Well, there's no law forcing you to worship. But I'll warn you now: The Council won't exactly look kindly on someone like you roaming around freely."
Yujin’s eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean by 'The Council'?"
Kaien shifted his posture, leaning forward with a more serious demeanor. "You know, the high-ranking religious officials and zealots. I don't know the exact details, but rumor has it they absolutely despise atheists."
"What’s their issue with atheists anyway?" Yujin scratched his head, genuinely baffled.
"Hell if I know. I’m not one of them. Why should I waste my energy stressing over it?"
The carriage continued its relentless trek toward the west, leaving the paved city cobblestones behind as it entered a narrow, unpaved dirt trail. The wooden wheels creaked softly every time they rolled over massive tree roots protruding from the earth. Outside, the lush green fields gradually morphed into a sparse, unsettling forest filled with towering trees whose leaves looked abnormally pale.
The further they ventured, the scarcer signs of human civilization became.
A few times, their carriage passed merchants traveling east. They walked with hollow, exhausted expressions, pulling carts that were practically half-empty. Nobody smiled. Nobody exchanged greetings. They simply hung their heads and quickened their pace, acting as if they were desperate to put as much distance as humanly possible between themselves and the west.
Yujin observed the grim exodus from the glass window, entirely speechless.
"Bizarre, isn't it?" he muttered softly.
Kaien, sitting across from him, cracked open a single eye. "The western region has been like this for a while now."
"Yeah. I heard they're struggling to even find basic food."
"Correct," Kaien replied quietly. "It has forced them to abandon their homelands entirely."
The carriage plunged back into silence. The only sounds occupying the cabin were the rhythmic rattling of the wheels and the whistling wind outside.
A few hours later, well before they even crossed the official threshold into the western border or Aethelgard proper, the sky shifted into a pale, sickly grey. The sun was technically still there, but its light was severely muffled, as if filtered through a thick shroud. In the distance, between the pale trees, Yujin could see a faint, ghostly layer of mist hanging suspended in the air.
Yujin swallowed hard, his eyes glued to the window. The mist in the distance looked like a vast, stagnant white ocean—but for some inexplicable reason, he felt like that fog... was waiting for something.
The carriage plunged deeper into the west, heading straight toward the threshold where the mist swallowed the roads, the villages, and perhaps, the very souls of those who dared to never return.