Dim morning light filtered through the crevices of the room's curtains, slithering across the wooden floorboards and illuminating the space that still harbored the residual chill of the previous night.
"Still alive, it seems..." A young man finally woke up from his prolonged slumber.
"What..." Kaien forced his eyelids open, gradually realizing he was resting inside an inn room. "What the hell... happened?"
He pushed himself up. The moment his torso sat perfectly upright, a sharp, burning agony flared in his left shoulder. Not only his shoulder—his entire physical vessel felt as though it had been repeatedly battered with a blunt instrument.
Thoroughly disoriented, he gingerly touched his bandaged shoulder.
"Wait, I’ve been treated?" He stared at the dressing in utter disbelief. He snapped his head toward Yujin's bed. It was completely vacant.
"Don't tell me that brat was the one who patched me up...?" He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Before standing, he paused to recuperate, desperately trying to cognitively synthesize the chaotic events of last night. He vividly remembered the silhouette—the individual who had intervened to save his life.
Was that Yujin? The hypothesis briefly crossed Kaien’s mind, but he instantly rejected it. How could a magicless kid like Yujin suddenly operate as an elite marksman? Let alone master advanced Aetherial Resonance with such casual precision.
He slipped out of the room. Bizarrely, there was no gaping structural hole in the corridor from last night's catastrophic breach. As he navigated the hallway, the muted morning sun breached the window panes, softly illuminating the lingering patches of mist outside.
Reaching the lobby, a profound sense of dissonance hit him. The lobby was bustling with activity, behaving more like a lively tavern than a derelict inn.
He furrowed his brow. It looked absolutely nothing like this last night.
Shortly after, he recalled their primary operational objective: investigating Nerthvale Village.
"Nerthvale Village? I’ve never heard of any place by that name. Go ask someone else. You’re wasting my time," a local resident retorted bluntly when questioned.
It wasn't just one individual; practically every citizen inside the establishment gave similar dismissive answers. Kaien was completely gridlocked in confusion. Did we miss a critical variable? Or did I mishear Master Kluivert’s explicit coordinates?
His mind flashed back to the strict disciplinary lectures from his childhood mentor. "Whenever someone is delivering crucial intelligence, you listen to every single word, Kaien Rask!" the old man would bark.
"Sigh, what a massive pain in the ass," he muttered, scratching his head in frustration.
Once more, he meticulously scanned the crowd, trying to spot someone reputable enough to interrogate.
Pukk...
A heavy hand suddenly clapped down onto his left shoulder. A sickening, electric wave of acute neurological pain shot straight to his brain.
He spun around, locking eyes with an elderly man. Kaien glared fiercely at the old-timer, primarily because the senile bastard was gripping his injured shoulder with an iron-like squeeze.
"Hey there... young man," the old man rasped, his vocal cords completely dry. "Why are you wandering around looking like a lost soul?"
Kaien forcefully brushed the senior's hand away. "I'm trying to locate a specific village."
"A village?" the man echoed softly, letting out a wheezing chuckle. "Hohoho... what a stroke of luck. I’ve traversed nearly every square inch of Aethelgard. If you don't mind me asking, what is your name, great adventurer?"
Kaien narrowed his eyes, systematically analyzing the old man's attire. Judging by his deep brown tunic adorned with a distinctive crest on the left sleeve, he was likely a retired veteran of some official echelon.
"Just call me Rask. Do you happen to know the coordinates of Nerthvale Village?"
The moment the name left Kaien's lips, the old man's pupils dilated in sheer shock. His jaw slacked, though he quickly composed himself, closing his mouth shut.
"Sir Rask," the old man finally articulated, his tone dropping. "I apologize if this shatters your expectations, but... Nerthvale Village is nothing more than an ancient, abandoned ruin."
In my opinion, the morning mist is far more forgiving than the suffocating density of the midnight fog.
Hours before Kaien had managed to regain consciousness, his partner, Yujin, had already awakened from his deep sleep. The localized thermal energy from the levitating flame on the table had successfully aided his physiological recovery from advanced hypothermia.
Sitting up, Yujin had observed Kaien lying completely unresponsive on the adjacent mattress. Hell if I know what crazy stunt he pulled last night, the youth thought. It was then he realized he was currently draped in Kaien’s tactical jacket.
Without hesitation, he shed the garment and carefully draped it over Kaien’s shivering frame, ensuring the warming lantern was positioned within a close radius. However, realizing his own biology had just suffered severe exposure, Yujin opted to venture out while carrying the auxiliary fire lantern.
Clad in nothing but a plain white t-shirt and anchoring the lantern, he exited the inn. Frankly, he felt incredibly vulnerable navigating an unknown territory with such sub-optimal equipment, but he was fresh out of options. His standard-issue heavy cloak had been inadvertently carried off by little Yuna.
He could have technically kept Kaien's jacket, but the fabric was entirely saturated with a distinct, pungent body odor that triggered his sensory irritation.
Seriously, does Kaien ever take a damn bath? The guy's jacket smells horrific, Yujin grumbled internally.
Outside, the deep blue hue of dawn slowly materialized, touching Yujin’s pale skin.
"It’s been an eternity since I’ve witnessed an actual morning dawn. When was the last time I even saw clear daylight?"
For the entire duration of their trek toward the western frontier, they had been subjected to unyielding fog and torrential rain, rendering solar navigation completely impossible.
Before he fully realized it, his steps had carried him into the heart of a bustling marketplace. The atmosphere was incredibly vibrant; the local populaces seemed to have completely adapted to this hostile climate. Maybe the place was this crowded last night too, and I was just too out of it to notice, he reasoned.
He casually navigated the market aisles. A diverse array of commodities was on display, ranging from livestock feed to military-grade hardware. He even passed a blacksmith’s forge boasting an impressive catalog of weapons.
Suddenly, his peripheral vision locked onto a peculiar monument: a stone statue with a massive broadsword driven clean through its skull structure. Whether it represented some bizarre localized cultural tradition or historical event remained unclear, but Yujin found the visual profoundly unsettling.
"For some reason... that blade looks uncannily identical to Kaien’s sword."
Shaking off the thought, he continued his stroll through the market. He occasionally paused to indulge in some local commerce whenever an item piqued his interest. Currently, he was happily munching on a localized delicacy—a chewy, starch-based street food smothered in a savory, aromatic sauce.
As he was enjoying his meal, his internal radar twitched. He registered a familiar presence approaching from behind.
"Big Brother!" a high-pitched voice echoed.
Turning his head, he was greeted by the sight of the white-haired girl with the brilliant, crystal-blue eyes.
"Yuna?"
Standing adjacent to little Yuna, hand-in-hand, was a remarkably handsome young man sporting an immaculate mane of blonde hair.
"Oh, so this is the individual Yuna was rambling about last night?" The blonde man knelt down, bringing his eye line level with Yuna while offering a warm, charismatic smile. Yuna nodded with unbridled enthusiasm.
The man then straightened his posture, standing at his full height, and extended a hand in a formal gesture of diplomacy. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Kenzie. Thank you immensely for ensuring my little sister’s survival last night."
The young adventurer analyzed Kenzie's extended palm before completing the handshake. "I'm Yujin."
The precise millisecond their skin made contact, Kenzie's facial muscles twitched in subtle shock; his pupils dilated instantly as if detecting a massive anomaly. However, his micro-expression was wiped clean within a fraction of a second, offering Yujin absolutely no window to consciously register the hesitation.
"Yujin? A pleasure to meet your acquaintance! Again, words cannot express my gratitude for locating my sister last night," Kenzie stated, casting a protective glance toward Yuna. "I was profoundly sick with worry."
"Your sister?" Yujin inquired, looking down at the cheerful child. "She’s exceptionally resilient."
Kenzie chuckled softly, though his analytical gaze remained intensely locked onto the palm Yujin had just released. "She does possess a stubborn streak. By the way, Yujin... what is your sector of origin? You don't exactly project the profile of a native from these parts."
"Me?" The adventurer glanced back toward the anomalous statue positioned directly behind the bench he had occupied. "Yeah, I'm a foreigner. I deployed to this region because there’s an operational task I am required to execute."
Without Yujin consciously realizing it, his abrupt delivery effectively shut down any further dialogue on the subject. A prolonged, highly palpable awkwardness descended upon the duo. Fortunately, Yuna’s attention was suddenly captured by a vendor in the distance, shattering the gridlock.
"Brother! I want the treats Uncle Sam is selling over there!"
Without waiting for validation, Yuna abruptly bolted into the dense crowd of the marketplace, abandoning both Kenzie and Yujin mid-sentence.
The two men let out a synchronized, defeated sigh. Where the hell is that brat running off to now? Wasting no time, they both immediately accelerated, plunging into the thick ocean of civilians to track her down.
"Mother! Look at the performance over there!" a young, diminutive Aurelia exclaimed, frantically tugging at her mother's sleeve amidst a dense crowd.
"Oh, wow!" her mother chimed in, forcing a wave of enthusiastic energy. "Let’s go check it out!"
"Yay!"
As they navigated the square, every single civilian in their vicinity—regardless of whether they belonged to the affluent aristocracy or the destitute lower class—automatically bowed their heads in profound deference.
Once the theatrical performance—spearheaded by a charismatic blonde actor—concluded, Aurelia’s mother guided her toward a pristine public park for a stroll.
"Mother," the young child inquired, her voice filled with pure innocence. "Why do you constantly exhaust yourself for the sake of the populace? Is it because so many of them are forced to sleep on the streets? But why? Do they not possess homes of their own?" A relentless barrage of naive inquiries tumbled from her mouth. Yet, her mother simply offered a serene, unyielding smile.
"Aurelia..." her mother murmured gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Strive to always be a benevolent soul, alright? If you project kindness onto the world, humanity will mirror that exact kindness back to you."
Suddenly, her mother’s facial features began to rapidly blur, aggressively obscured by a dense, suffocating white fog within Aurelia's visual field. Her mother's hand slowly slipped from her shoulder, her form dissolving entirely into the mist.
"Mother?" the little girl called out hoarsely. She desperately lunged forward to pursue the silhouette, but she had already vanished into the abyss. Her immediate surroundings turned a blinding, absolute white. The fog was so dense she couldn't even render her own lower extremities.
Attempting to flee was completely futile; her legs felt as though they were bound by invisible shackles. Slowly, warm tears began to cascade down her cheeks.
Then, a massive, towering shadow of concentrated malice materialized before her. But the detail that struck absolute horror into her psyche was... positioned directly beneath the monstrosity lay the unmoving body of her mother.
"Mother!" the girl screamed, forcing her lower limbs forward despite a sensation that her muscles were tearing apart.
The monstrosity raised an elongated limb, swinging its razor-sharp claws down with terminal velocity. And then—
"Kyaah!"
Aurelia’s entire musculoskeletal system violently spasmed, causing her to bolt upright in her bed. She was hyperventilating, her clothes completely saturated with cold sweat.
"The identical nightmare again?" a detached voice echoed from across the room.
"Yeah," Aurelia breathed out, not bothering to turn her head. "You know how it is, Sister Viola. Especially after receiving that highly classified brief from Master Kluivert... it’s severely spiked my psychological stress."
Viola materialized from behind a partition curtain, navigating the private expanse of her personal quarters. She was clad in an athletic tank top and compression shorts, her hair anchored into a functional ponytail, exposing her toned midriff.
She walked casually toward a wardrobe to select her uniform, not offering Aurelia a direct glance. "You..." she let out a quiet sigh. "You would be wise to cease hyper-focusing on that variable. Over-analyzing it will only trigger a psychological backlash."
Aurelia watched Viola effortlessly rifle through her apparel as if she weren't even occupying the room. "You are perpetually detached, Sister," she whispered softly, automatically closing her eyes the moment Viola began to strip to change clothes.
"We share an identical biological gender; I am entirely indifferent to your line of sight," Viola stated callously as she finalized her wardrobe adjustment. "You should initiate your own preparation protocols. If my memory serves me correctly, there is an individual requesting an audience with you today."
Aurelia finally opened her eyes, a single eyebrow cocking upward. "An audience with me?"
"Yes," Viola confirmed, casually tossing her used towel directly at Aurelia. The fabric still carried the distinct trace of Viola’s signature scent. "The dispatch indicates the individual hails from the western frontier. Regardless... you can analyze the details yourself when they arrive." Viola finalized her hair adjustments, her absolute indifference to the matter glaringly obvious.
"Understood," Aurelia responded, preparing to utilize the washroom. "I shall await this encounter with anticipation."