As they sat at the table, the dishes before them released rich aromas of various foods.
After his long journey, Arin couldn't help but focus on every bite that entered his mouth. Each flavor was a new discovery.
The dwarven-style roasted meat, spices unlike anything he had tasted before, and carefully baked bread formed a combination that stirred his senses and made him feel as though he had returned to life after the darkness of the Silent Forest.
"Delicious…" Arin whispered, closing his eyes slightly. "I never imagined food could have this much depth in flavor."
Rai smiled faintly as she took a bite from her plate.
"Everything here has character… even the food reflects the city's personality. The dwarves love precision in their work. They cook as if they want to leave their mark on every meal."
Arin swallowed another bite slowly, trying to keep observing the room at the same time. But he couldn't ignore the distant corner table where the elf he had seen upon entering the inn was seated.
When Sasha returned carrying their drinks, she noticed Arin's steady focus and tilted her head with a smile.
"Are you fascinated by that elf?"
Arin flinched slightly, attempting to brush off the question.
"In what way?"
"His presence," Sasha replied carefully, as if reading his thoughts.
"Kind of… but he feels empty. I can sense the strong and the weak around him. But from him… I can't sense anything."
Both Sasha and Rai smiled faintly.
Sasha said teasingly, "That's because his pattern is higher than yours, you foolish boy."
Arin stiffened again. Rai's earlier words about "patterns" immediately resurfaced in his mind. He tried to respond, but before he could, Rai cut in calmly yet firmly:
"This isn't the time for that, Arin. Eat. We have things to do tomorrow."
She looked at Sasha.
"And I believe you should get back to work. Some tables are waiting."
Sasha smiled lightly, inhaled as if preparing to leave, but cast Arin one more glance—one he couldn't fully interpret—before slipping gracefully between the tables.
Arin exhaled and tried to refocus on his food, but he couldn't completely. Every bite blended with the scene around him: the laughter of humans and dwarves, footsteps echoing against the wooden floor, the warmth of oil lamps, and the mysterious silence of the elf in the corner. All of it mixed with a strange sense of curiosity and danger.
Rai noticed his thoughts.
"Arin, don't focus on what you cannot understand yet. Focus on what's in front of you. Everything comes in its time. We're still at the beginning."
Arin smiled faintly and took another bite, trying to dissolve into the atmosphere of Rotana, into this new life.
But his eyes never left the elf.
Who is he? Why is he so calm? What is that emptiness?
With every bite and every glance, the feeling of adventure and mystery seeped deeper into him, as though this small city held secrets far greater than trade and food—as though it were a gateway to an entirely new world.
Warmth filled the hall, laughter intertwining with the clinking of cups, when suddenly one of the dwarves rose from a nearby table.
His face was flushed from drink, his thick beard tangled, eyes half-lidded with light intoxication. But it wasn't the kind that dulls fire—it fed it.
He slammed his palm onto the table.
"Enough of your arrogance, elf! You sit there like kings while we're your servants!"
A tense silence spread across the first floor.
Some humans lowered their gazes.
Other dwarves exchanged wary looks.
The dwarf staggered toward the table of the four elves.
"You come to Rotana… eat our bread… drink our ale… then sit apart from us like our scent offends you!"
The other three elves had stopped speaking.
But the silent one… didn't even lift his eyes.
He held his glass between long, pale fingers. His blue eyes were still. Cold. Like a frozen lake that reflected nothing.
That indifference only enraged the dwarf further.
"Look at me when I speak to you!"
He lunged, assuming silence meant weakness.
He raised his fist.
The air tightened.
Arin stopped chewing.
Rai narrowed her eyes.
The punch flew—
But—
No impact came.
No sound of contact.
The moment the fist crossed half the distance… the elf vanished.
No flash.
No wind disturbance.
No trace.
He simply… wasn't there.
The dwarf's punch carried forward, nearly causing him to stumble from his own momentum.
Then—
A soft whisper behind him.
A step.
The elf stood directly behind him.
In his blind spot.
Calm. As if he had always been there.
The dwarf didn't turn immediately. He didn't understand.
But everyone else… froze.
Even Arin hadn't perceived the movement. His mind hadn't caught the transition.
"Rai…" he whispered, barely audible. "Did you see—?"
She didn't answer at once.
Her eyes were fixed on the elf.
The elf didn't speak.
Didn't draw a weapon.
Didn't touch the dwarf.
He simply walked past him.
One step.
Two.
As if the dwarf were nothing but air.
He passed the table and headed toward the stairs leading upstairs.
His white robe embroidered with delicate blue flowers moved softly behind him. His silver hair fell over his shoulders like faint threads of light.
His expression remained unchanged. Cold. Unmoved.
No anger.
No disdain.
No interest.
That kind of indifference… was harsher than any blow.
The dwarf finally turned, stunned.
"W-Where…?"
But the elf didn't stop.
He ascended the stairs.
And disappeared from sight.
The hall remained silent for long seconds.
Then noise slowly returned—whispers, heavy breaths, confusion.
Arin's heart pounded.
"I didn't feel him move… I didn't sense any mana flow… no element… nothing."
Rai answered in a very low voice.
"Because he didn't use manifestation."
"What?"
"That wasn't an ordinary movement. And it wasn't elemental magic. It was… before manifestation."
Arin's eyes widened.
"Before manifestation? Then that means—"
"Another level," she said calmly, placing her cup down. "A level that doesn't announce itself."
He swallowed.
"He could've snapped the dwarf's neck in a second."
"Yes."
"But he didn't."
Rai looked toward the stairs where he vanished.
"That's why he's more dangerous."
Arin fell silent.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sasha.
She stood near a wooden pillar, watching with a faint, knowing smile—almost as if she had expected this.
Her eyes met his.
Her smile widened slightly.
Then she returned to work as if nothing had happened.
Arin whispered,
"That's not just an elf… is it?"
Rai didn't deny it.
"No."
"Do you know him?"
"No."
"Then why do you sound like you understand his kind?"
She looked at him slowly.
"Because that kind… doesn't appear in border cities by coincidence."
Arin was silent for a moment.
"Sasha said his pattern is higher than mine."
"Yes."
"Much higher?"
Rai held his gaze.
"High enough that you feel emptiness from him."
Arin looked back at the stairs.
Something shifted in his chest.
Not just fear.
Not just admiration.
But the certainty that their paths would cross again.
And as the hall's noise gradually resumed, as the dwarf was pulled away in embarrassment, the weight of that moment lingered in the air.
Not because of speed.
But because of the unspoken message:
There are those who don't need to prove their strength.
Because their mere existence… is enough.