There was no trace of the sun—only thick, dark clouds drifting slowly across the sky as cold winds whispered through the cracks of broken stone.
Inside the abandoned tower, a boy lay on the cold floor, staring upward, his thoughts tangled between wonder and disbelief.
Father Lucen's words echoed through his mind, over and over.
Aleck smiled.
It was small. Fragile. Trembling with something he had never truly felt before.
Hope.
Or perhaps… purpose.
"The world really is a strange place," he murmured softly into the empty air. "Maybe I really am some kind of hero… sent here to bring peace to this broken world."
The thought made him chuckle under his breath. He closed his eyes, letting the fantasy linger just a moment longer.
"Guess I'll have to train harder," he whispered. "And beat those bullies first."
The wind outside softened, its howl fading into a gentle hush. Aleck let himself sink into the quiet, his body finally beginning to relax.
Maybe things could change.
Maybe he could change.
"I'll take a walk by the river first," he thought drowsily. "Then head back before afternoon prayer. Hopefully Reyla won't kill me this time…"
Outside the Embrek Church of Light, a black carriage rolled to a slow halt.
Two men stepped out.
Both wore dark military coats layered beneath long ceremonial robes, their presence alone enough to disturb the stillness of the forgotten district.
One of them stood tall, his crimson hair swaying faintly in the cold wind. His sharp eyes scanned the church, lingering on its cracked walls and aging stone.
"Still as rundown as ever, isn't it?" Ethan said quietly, his voice carrying a strange mixture of nostalgia and distance.
Beside him, Oliver adjusted his gloves, his calm gaze resting on the church entrance.
"That old man refuses every donation I offer," Oliver replied. "No matter how many times I insist."
Ethan smirked faintly.
"Maybe he's grown fond of poverty."
Oliver let out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh.
Together, the two men stepped forward and entered the church.
Inside, the air was cool and still. Dust lingered in the faint light that slipped through the tall, narrow windows.
But Father Lucen was nowhere to be seen.
The silence felt heavier than usual.
Without a word, Ethan and Oliver walked toward the front and sat in separate rows, bowing their heads in quiet prayer.
For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist.
Only the sound of the wind remained.
"I don't recall inviting guests today."
Father Lucen's calm voice echoed through the quiet hall.
He stepped out from a side chamber, draped in his faded ceremonial robes, a worn book resting in one hand. His expression carried its usual gentle amusement, as though nothing in the world could truly surprise him.
Ethan and Oliver turned toward him.
For a brief moment, silence filled the space.
Lucen walked past them without hurry, ascending the small podium near the altar. Only after setting the book down did he turn to face them fully.
Ethan slowly rose from his seat, lowering his hands from his prayer.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"So," Ethan said, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly, "the Ghost of the Battlefield is still alive."
Lucen chuckled softly.
"Still alive," he replied, his voice light and unbothered. "And I don't plan on dying anytime soon."
He tilted his head slightly, studying them both.
"So tell me," he continued casually, "what brings the Captain of the Red Knights and his vice commander to visit a poor old priest in a forgotten church?"
Oliver sighed faintly.
"Father, please stop with the jokes," he said. "We came to see you—as your students. And I'm no longer vice commander. I was granted the title of Baron of Embrek. I even sent you a letter last month."
Lucen blinked slowly.
"Was that what it was?" he said, scratching his cheek with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Perhaps my age has finally caught up with me. My memory isn't what it used to be."
Oliver shook his head, unable to tell if the old man was serious or pretending.
Lucen smiled faintly and opened the book before him.
"So," he said casually, "how far have you climbed now, Oliver? Still chasing the heights of power?"
His eyes shifted toward Ethan.
"And you… have you finally learned how to use that sword properly?"
Ethan let out a quiet breath.
"Father," he said, his tone hardening, "this isn't a social visit."
Lucen's smile faded.
The air in the room grew heavier.
"Our scouts have discovered massive gatherings of wolf tribes near the Velmora border," Ethan continued.
Lucen's expression darkened slightly.
"A Divine Beast…" he murmured.
"It's the most likely explanation," Oliver confirmed.
He stepped forward.
"And there's more. The monkeys near the northern pass attacked one of our outposts… and retreated deliberately. Not in panic. Not in instinct. It was controlled."
Lucen remained silent, listening.
"It was tactical," Oliver finished. "Something—or someone—is guiding them."
Lucen closed his book slowly.
"Hm."
His voice carried quiet thoughtfulness.
"But those matters belong to your world now," he said. "Not mine. My time has passed. I no longer have the strength—or the right—to involve myself in the kingdom's affairs."
His eyes softened faintly.
"I have children to look after."
Ethan frowned.
"You've taken in another child?"
Lucen smiled faintly.
"I didn't take him in," he said. "He simply appeared at the church one day… eight years ago."
Ethan and Oliver exchanged a glance but said nothing.
Then Ethan stepped forward.
"There's something else," he said.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Even the wind outside seemed to still.
"A week ago," Ethan continued, his voice steady, "the southernmost settlement of the kingdom—Village Aster—was attacked."
Lucen's eyes narrowed.
"The Knight stationed there was killed," Ethan said. "Along with the military forces."
He paused briefly.
"And yet… the village did not resist."
Oliver continued.
"The survivors accepted the invader as their new ruler."
Lucen's fingers tightened slightly against the book.
Ethan's voice grew colder.
"He's described as a young man. Blonde hair. A strange tattoo on the right side of his face."
Silence fell.
Lucen's eyes widened ever so slightly.
"…Fritz," he whispered.
Oliver nodded.
"Most likely."
The name lingered in the air like a shadow from the past.
Ethan continued.
"The kingdom is currently focused on the Divine Serpent and the potential awakening of the Divine Wolf. They don't consider this man a major threat… not yet."
His eyes hardened.
"But that may change."
"He chose his target carefully," Oliver added. "Village Aster was isolated. Poorly governed. Its people were already desperate."
Ethan's voice lowered.
"And he didn't act alone."
"They call themselves," Ethan said,
"the Oathbreakers."
Lucen let out a quiet sigh and stretched his arms, his joints cracking faintly with age.
"He always was good with names," he said, glancing at Ethan with a faint smile. "I suppose you won't let an old man enjoy his retirement after all."
His expression shifted, the humor fading into something more serious.
"But understand this," he added calmly, "I will only involve myself… if it concerns him."
The silence lingered briefly.
Then, as if casting the weight aside, Lucen clapped his hands together lightly.
"Enough of these grim matters," he said warmly. "You've come a long way. Stay. Let's have a proper feast."
Outside, the sun remained trapped behind heavy clouds. Only faint rays slipped through, barely touching the cold earth below.
Aleck walked slowly along the riverbank, his oversized shoes scraping softly against the dirt.
His thoughts were far away.
Father Lucen's words echoed endlessly in his mind.
Resonance.
Children of Light.
Power.
Purpose.
First… I need to train my body.
He winced.
Reyla really was right.
But the thought of her training made his stomach tighten. His body still ached from the last session.
He shivered.
"I might die before I even get stronger…" he muttered.
"Oi. You."
The voice came from behind him.
Aleck froze.
Slowly, he turned.
A group of boys stood there, watching him.
He recognized most of them.
Bullies.
And among them—
Someone new.
A girl.
Her crimson hair burned softly beneath the grey sky. She stood slightly behind the others, silent, observing.
Aleck's chest tightened.
Just when things were starting to feel different…
He clenched his fists.
No… I'm not the same anymore.
I can use resonance.
…Right?
Before he could think further, one of the boys stepped forward.
Olric, who can be noticed due to his striking white hair.
Taller. Broader. Stronger.
His eyes carried familiar hatred.
"Stupid monster," Olric sneered. "Didn't we tell you not to come near the river?"
He stepped closer.
"You'll pollute it."
Aleck said nothing.
His heart pounded violently.
Olric rarely attacked him personally.
So why today?
Aleck's eyes shifted slightly.
The red-haired girl stood behind them.
Watching.
Ah.
He understood.
Olric wanted to impress her.
A strange heat rose inside Aleck's chest.
Anger.
Desperation.
Maybe…
Maybe I can fight back.
He stepped forward and swung his fist—
Olric's foot slammed into his stomach.
Pain exploded through his body.
The air vanished from his lungs.
Aleck collapsed to his knees, gasping soundlessly.
The punches came immediately.
One after another.
His vision blurred.
His head snapped back.
His body fell to the ground as Olric climbed on top of him, fists crashing into his face again and again.
Aleck couldn't feel most of it anymore.
His senses were fading.
He already knew how this would end.
Helpless.
Powerless.
It never changed.
"Hey! Stop!"
A passerby rushed toward them.
The boys scattered instantly.
Olric didn't even look back.
Aleck lay there, barely conscious.
The man approached him.
For a moment, Aleck thought—
Maybe…
But then the man saw his hair.
Black.
His expression twisted in disgust.
He spat beside him.
"If I'd known you were devil-spawn," the man muttered coldly, "I wouldn't have helped."
He walked away.
Aleck lay there alone.
The sky above him blurred behind tears.
Afternoon prayer…
Reyla will kill me if I'm late…
His fingers trembled weakly against the dirt.
Tears slid silently down his face.
Then—
Footsteps approached.
Light.
Hesitant.
Aleck forced his swollen eyes open.
The red-haired girl stood beside him.
She didn't look afraid.
She didn't look disgusted.
Only curious.