The clearing was torn apart.

  Earth fractured.

  Trees splintered.

  Cold air lingered faintly where frost had once clung.

  And at the center of it all—

  Osbin Durnhart lay dead.

  Lars stood a few paces away, breathing unevenly, his gauntlets stained dark.

  He still could not make sense of it.

  He remembered fighting.

  He remembered losing himself.

  He remembered the Void.

  The Light.

  Then—

  Osbin against the tree.

  Bleeding.

  Then nothing.

  Footsteps approached.

  Measured.

  Organized.

  Disciplined.

  From between the trees emerged figures clad in white and red armor trimmed in gold. The sigil of a rising crimson flame burned across their chests.

  Crimson Flare.

  They fanned outward instantly, scanning the clearing.

  At their center walked a woman.

  Tall.

  Composed.

  Long crimson hair tied high behind her head.

  Her armor was immaculate despite travel — white plates layered with red segments like controlled fire. Gold accents lined her shoulders and collar. At her side rested a slender silver rapier, elegant and deadly.

  She stopped when she saw the body.

  One of her knights knelt immediately.

  “…Confirmed. Osbin Durnhart.”

  Silence.

  The woman’s eyes sharpened, but her face did not change.

  She stepped forward.

  Her voice was calm.

  “Identify yourself.”

  Lars swallowed.

  “…Lars Silverwing.”

  “Guild.”

  “…None.”

  “Rank.”

  “…Unregistered.”

  Her gaze flicked to his hands.

  The gauntlets.

  Blood.

  Then to the shattered ground.

  Then back to him.

  “You entered the forest with Osbin Durnhart?”

  “Yes.”

  “For what purpose.”

  “Training.”

  She studied him carefully.

  “Training.”

  It was not disbelief.

  It was repetition.

  “You were engaged in combat with him.”

  “Yes.”

  “And during this combat he sustained fatal injury.”

  Lars’ breathing became uneven.

  “I lost consciousness. When I woke up he was already—”

  She did not interrupt.

  She let him finish.

  “…dead.”

  The word hung heavy.

  One of her mages stepped closer to the scene, observing the clearing.

  “High-impact force,” the mage murmured. “Ground fracture suggests close-range exchange.”

  Another knight examined the wound carefully.

  “…Captain.”

  She stepped beside him.

  The wound was precise.

  Clean penetration through the chest.

  Not crushed.

  Not shattered.

  Her eyes narrowed slightly.

  But she did not comment.

  She rose and faced Lars again.

  “You were the only one present.”

  “Yes.”

  “You were the last person to see him alive.”

  “Yes.”

  “You cannot explain how he died.”

  Lars’ throat tightened.

  “…No.”

  The silence that followed was unbearable.

  She stepped closer.

  Close enough that Lars could see his reflection in her eyes.

  An S Rank warrior lay dead behind her.

  A man she respected.

  Not intimately.

  Not emotionally.

  But as a pillar of strength within Solaris.

  Her voice lowered slightly.

  “You understand how this appears.”

  Lars’ eyes burned.

  “Yes.”

  “And yet you offer no explanation.”

  “I don’t remember what happened.”

  That answer did not satisfy her.

  Her jaw tightened subtly.

  Not rage.

  Not yet.

  Disappointment.

  “You do not remember,” she repeated.

  An S Rank warrior dead.

  And the only witness claims memory loss.

  Her tone hardened.

  “Whether intentional or not, Osbin Durnhart is dead.”

  She took one final step closer.

  “And you were present.”

  Lars’ mind flooded.

  Osbin laughing.

  Osbin calling him dangerous.

  Osbin offering to train him.

  Osbin waiting at the guild entrance.

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  His voice cracked.

  It sounded weak even to his own ears.

  She held his gaze.

  Long.

  Searching for deception.

  Finding confusion.

  Fear.

  Shock.

  But no clear lie.

  That almost made it worse.

  “Restrain him.”

  Two knights moved immediately, securing mana-dampening cuffs around his wrists.

  He did not resist.

  He couldn’t.

  As Osbin’s body was lifted carefully, Natalia lingered beside the wound once more.

  Her eyes traced it again.

  Precise.

  Too precise for random chaos.

  But the clearing told a different story.

  Violent.

  Brutal.

  Uncontrolled.

  Her hand brushed the hilt of her silver rapier.

  “Transport both.”

  As they began moving back through the forest, one of her mages approached quietly.

  “Captain… there was faint residual disturbance deeper in the trees. Almost like something withdrew.”

  Her stride did not falter.

  “Can you confirm it was not environmental fluctuation.”

  “…No.”

  “Then it is irrelevant.”

  Her eyes remained forward.

  “Until proven otherwise, the facts stand.”

  Behind them, far above the treeline—

  A figure watched in silence.

  And smiled.

  ——————

  Moments Earlier - Southern Checkpoint

  The forest trembled.

  It wasn’t the subtle sway of wind.

  It was force.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  A distant impact rippled through the trees beyond the checkpoint walls.

  Two stationed guards stiffened instantly.

  Another impact followed.

  Stronger.

  The lantern flames flickered.

  “…That’s deep inside,” one guard muttered.

  The second narrowed his eyes toward the dark treeline.

  “That’s not normal beast activity.”

  Then came a third impact.

  Heavy enough that loose dust fell from the stone gate arch above them.

  Both guards exchanged a look.

  Earlier that evening—

  S Rank Osbin Durnhart had passed through.

  Pre-authorized forest access.

  Training exercise.

  Accompanied by an unregistered youth.

  Name: Lars Silverwing.

  “Blow the signal,” the second guard ordered.

  A low warning horn echoed across the checkpoint.

  And a runner was dispatched immediately toward Solaris.

  ?

  Adventurers Association — Solaris

  Head Master Grandolf stood beside a shelf of ancient volumes when the report arrived.

  He listened without interruption.

  “Severe disturbance detected in the southern forest,” the guard relayed. “Multiple high-impact shockwaves. S Rank Osbin Durnhart confirmed inside perimeter with civilian trainee. Authorization logged one hour prior.”

  Grandolf’s fingers paused lightly on the spine of a book.

  “Trainee’s name.”

  “…Lars Silverwing.”

  Silence.

  Brief.

  Measured.

  “How long since the disturbance began?”

  “Minutes ago.”

  Grandolf closed the book gently.

  “Notify Crimson Flare.”

  The guard blinked.

  “Sir? Should we not inform the Wilds Guild first? Osbin is—”

  Grandolf’s gaze lifted.

  Calm.

  Sharp.

  “If an S Rank requires aid, we do not escalate emotionally.”

  His voice remained even.

  “We respond strategically.”

  The guard swallowed.

  “Yes, Head Master.”

  “Captain Natalia Valcrest is to deploy immediately with a scout unit.”

  As the guard hurried off, Grandolf turned toward the tall windows overlooking Solaris.

  The kingdom shimmered under moonlight.

  Beyond it—

  The forest.

  Dark.

  Quiet.

  “Underworld…” he murmured faintly.

  His reflection stared back at him.

  He had seen patterns before.

  High-level anomalies did not go unnoticed in Sesilia.

  Not by kingdoms.

  Not by guilds.

  Not by shadows.

  He folded his hands behind his back.

  “If you are what I believe you to be…”

  His voice was barely audible.

  “…then you will survive.”

  A soft knock echoed behind him.

  A hooded figure stepped inside quietly and knelt.

  Grandolf did not turn.

  “Report.”

  “I maintained observation of the subject within Solaris as instructed. He departed with Osbin Durnhart under official forest authorization. I did not pursue beyond the checkpoint.”

  “You were not ordered to,” Grandolf replied calmly.

  “No, Head Master.”

  “Remain within the city.”

  The hooded observer hesitated.

  “And if the boy does not return?”

  Grandolf’s eyes remained on the distant tree line.

  “Then we reassess.”

  The hooded figure bowed and vanished into the corridor.

  Grandolf remained alone.

  He exhaled slowly.

  “Let us see,” he murmured.

  ?

  Crimson Flare Headquarters

  The summons arrived swiftly.

  Captain Natalia Valcrest read the notice once.

  S Rank Osbin Durnhart engaged in high-impact disturbance.

  Unregistered youth present.

  Request for immediate deployment.

  Signed: Head Master Grandolf.

  That signature mattered.

  She rose without hesitation.

  “Prepare a five-man response unit.”

  White and red armor gleamed under torchlight.

  Gold accents shimmered as knights assembled.

  Her silver rapier was secured at her hip.

  A knight approached cautiously.

  “Captain, should we notify the Wilds Guild?”

  “If Osbin has encountered something beyond his capacity,” she replied evenly, “we respond before rumors do.”

  No one questioned her.

  Moments later, Crimson Flare moved through Solaris like controlled fire.

  And into the forest.

  ?

  Present

  The southern gates of Solaris loomed ahead.

  Lanternlight flickered along the stone walls as the night shift guards straightened at the sight of approaching armor.

  White and red.

  Crimson Flare.

  The guards stepped forward automatically—

  Then froze.

  The body being carried between two knights came into full view.

  Wrapped partially in white cloth.

  Massive frame unmistakable.

  One of the guards staggered a half step forward.

  “…Osbin?”

  It was the same guard who had saluted him days before.

  The one Osbin had joked with in the taverns and drinking.

  The one who had laughed when Osbin mocked him for sleeping on stone floors.

  He moved closer.

  Hands trembling.

  “…No.”

  The cloth shifted slightly, revealing the scar across Osbin’s eye.

  Confirmation.

  The guard’s breath left him.

  “…What happened?”

  His eyes shot upward—

  And locked onto Lars.

  Restraints around his wrists.

  Head lowered.

  Blood still faintly marking his gauntlets.

  The guard’s face changed instantly.

  “What did you do?”

  He stepped forward.

  “Answer me!”

  His voice cracked, grief turning sharp.

  “You were with him—”

  Natalia stepped between them smoothly.

  Her silver rapier remained sheathed, but her presence alone halted him.

  “It is under investigation.”

  Her voice was calm.

  Authoritative.

  The guard’s jaw tightened.

  “With respect, Captain— that’s Osbin Durnhart!”

  “And I am aware,” she replied evenly.

  “Stand down.”

  The guard looked past her again at Lars.

  “You walked in with him,” he said, voice trembling. “He vouched for you.”

  Lars could barely meet his eyes.

  “I don’t—”

  “You don’t what?” the guard demanded. “Don’t remember? Don’t care?”

  Natalia’s voice cut through sharply this time.

  “That is enough.”

  The temperature of the moment shifted instantly.

  The guard stiffened.

  Her gaze locked onto him.

  “If you wish to honor Osbin, you will allow the proper process to unfold.”

  The words were not unkind.

  But they were final.

  The guard’s fists clenched.

  Then slowly loosened.

  He stepped back.

  “…Yes, Captain.”

  The gates opened.

  Crimson Flare passed through.

  But the damage had already begun.

  ?

  Inside Solaris

  Word spread ahead of them like wildfire.

  By the time they reached the inner streets, whispers had turned into open murmurs.

  “That’s Osbin—”

  “Dead?”

  “Who’s the boy—?”

  “He’s restrained—”

  The guard from the gate remained staring long after they passed.

  His grief turned into something else.

  Suspicion.

  ?

  Lars

  Each accusation echoed in his skull.

  He vouched for you.

  The words hurt more than the cuffs.

  Osbin had defended him.

  Trained him.

  Believed in him.

  And now—

  He couldn’t even explain what happened.

  He wanted to scream.

  He wanted to rewind the night.

  He wanted the morning back.

  Osbin knocking at his door.

  Rin laughing.

  The world simple again.

  Instead, he walked in chains.

  ?

  Natalia

  She felt the weight of every eye in the street.

  Solaris respected strength.

  They revered their S Ranks.

  An S Rank falling was not common.

  It was destabilizing.

  She would not allow chaos to follow.

  Her decision was already made.

  “Proceed to the Adventurers Association,” she ordered calmly.

  No detour.

  No guild involvement yet.

  This would be handled properly.

  Publicly.

  And decisively.

  As they turned toward the Association district—

  The guard at the gate watched from the walls.

  His grief still raw.

  His mind replaying Osbin’s laugh from only days ago.

  He looked toward the forest.

  And whispered quietly:

  “…This isn’t right.”

  The procession had barely crossed into the central district when another group forced their way through the gathering crowd.

  Dark cloaks.

  Hunter leathers.

  Wilds Guild.

  They had heard the whispers before they saw the truth.

  And now—

  They saw it.

  Rin was the first to break formation.

  “Osbin?”

  Her voice cracked before she even reached him.

  The white cloth shifted as the Crimson Flare knights halted.

  For a moment, the world stood still.

  Rin stepped forward slowly.

  As if walking toward something fragile.

  As if refusing to believe what her eyes were showing her.

  The cloth slipped enough to reveal his face.

  The scar.

  The beard.

  The familiar lines.

  But no breath.

  No smirk.

  No sarcastic remark.

  Her knees weakened.

  “…No.”

  It came out barely audible.

  She reached out and touched his armor.

  Cold.

  Her hand trembled.

  “No, no, no…”

  Her voice began to shake.

  This wasn’t a battlefield.

  This wasn’t a quest gone wrong.

  This was Solaris.

  The streets.

  Their home.

  Behind her, Gallant stood frozen.

  He had expected injury.

  Maybe hospitalization.

  Not this.

  His jaw tightened.

  His mind raced.

  How?

  Then he saw Lars.

  Restrained.

  Mana cuffs binding his wrists.

  Head lowered.

  Blood on his gauntlets.

  His expression changed instantly.

  He stepped forward, voice firm.

  “What happened?”

  His eyes shifted to Natalia.

  “Sister.”

  Natalia did not flinch at the tone.

  She met his gaze evenly.

  “S Rank Osbin Durnhart entered the forest with the boy.”

  Her voice was calm.

  “There was a violent disturbance. Upon arrival, Osbin was deceased.”

  Gallant’s eyes hardened.

  “And him?”

  “The only one present.”

  “That’s not enough,” Gallant replied immediately.

  His voice lowered.

  “You’re telling me my guildmate dies in the forest and your answer is chains?”

  Natalia’s gaze sharpened.

  “And what would you prefer, Gallant?”

  Her tone remained controlled.

  “That we release the only witness?”

  “This is Wilds Guild business.”

  “This is Solaris business.”

  The temperature between them shifted.

  Crowds gathered closer now.

  Lanternlight illuminated stunned faces.

  Windows opened.

  More eyes.

  More whispers.

  “Is that Osbin?”

  “Who’s the boy?”

  “Did he do it?”

  Rin was still kneeling beside Osbin.

  Her mind refusing to process.

  Her hands gripping his armor.

  She barely heard the argument unfolding behind her.

  Until—

  Natalia’s words cut through.

  “He entered the forest under training.”

  Rin’s head snapped up.

  “Training?”

  Her voice was raw.

  She turned toward Lars slowly.

  “Training?”

  Her eyes searched his face desperately.

  Lars couldn’t meet them.

  Shame burned through him.

  He felt small.

  Like a child caught doing something unforgivable.

  “Rin…” Gallant warned softly.

  But she stepped toward Lars anyway.

  Her anger rose suddenly, sharp and defensive.

  “You were supposed to be learning.”

  Her voice cracked.

  “You were supposed to be under supervision.”

  She looked at Natalia briefly, fury flashing.

  “Why were they even that deep in the forest?”

  Natalia answered evenly.

  “Pre-authorized access. Filed earlier.”

  Rin’s expression faltered.

  She hadn’t known that.

  Her attention snapped back to Lars.

  “What happened?”

  He couldn’t answer.

  The words wouldn’t come.

  His throat felt closed.

  His mind replayed Osbin’s laugh.

  His promise to train him.

  His confidence.

  And now—

  Dead.

  “I don’t…” he tried.

  But his voice failed.

  Rin stared at him.

  Searching for something.

  Truth.

  Denial.

  Anything.

  Her expression shifted.

  From anger.

  To confusion.

  To something far worse.

  “…Who are you?” she whispered.

  The question struck harder than Natalia’s interrogation.

  Who are you.

  Lars felt the weight of it crush him.

  He couldn’t lift his head.

  He couldn’t defend himself.

  Because he didn’t know the answer anymore.

  Natalia stepped forward once more.

  “This conversation ends here.”

  Her voice cut cleanly through the tension.

  She looked at Gallant.

  “This will be handled at the Adventurers Association.”

  Her gaze shifted briefly to Rin.

  “If you wish justice for Osbin, you will allow procedure.”

  Gallant’s fists clenched.

  But he nodded slowly.

  Not agreement.

  Control.

  Rin remained kneeling.

  Her hand still resting on Osbin’s armor.

  The crowd’s whispers grew louder.

  Some stared openly at Lars.

  A murderer.

  An outsider.

  A stranger.

  Natalia noticed the swelling attention.

  Solaris did not need chaos tonight.

  “We move,” she ordered.

  Crimson Flare resumed formation.

  Osbin’s body lifted once more.

  Lars forced to walk again.

  Rin remained kneeling a moment longer.

  Then slowly stood.

  Her eyes followed Lars.

  Not hatred.

  Not yet.

  But doubt.

  And doubt was worse.

  The group had turned toward the Adventurers Association.

  And the night of Solaris would never feel the same again.

  The doors of the Adventurers Association opened before them.

  Word had already reached ahead.

  Staff lined the main hall in uneasy silence.

  Torches burned low along the walls, casting long shadows across polished stone.

  Crimson Flare entered first.

  White and red armor gleaming beneath firelight.

  Behind them—

  Osbin’s body.

  And Lars in restraints.

  At the far end of the hall stood Head Master Grandolf.

  Hands folded neatly before him.

  Expression unreadable.

  He did not look surprised.

  He did not look shocked.

  He simply watched.

  As Osbin’s body was carried forward, the air grew heavier.

  Two Association staff members stepped carefully forward to receive him.

  They moved with reverence.

  Even Natalia bowed her head briefly as he passed.

  Grandolf inclined his head once.

  “A private setting,” he instructed quietly.

  No dramatics.

  No declarations.

  Osbin was carried away.

  The hall remained silent.

  Then Grandolf’s eyes shifted.

  To Lars.

  Then to Natalia.

  “Captain Valcrest.”

  “Head Master.” She replied.

  “Remain.” Grandolf adressed the others.

  His voice was calm.

  “Bring the boy.”

  Natalia nodded once.

  The rest of Crimson Flare dispersed to secure the perimeter.

  Wilds Guild lingered at a distance.

  Rin stood still.

  Arms wrapped around herself.

  Eyes hollow.

  Gallant watched everything.

  Carefully.

  ?

  The Archives

  The familiar scent of old parchment filled the air as they entered.

  Tall shelves stretched upward.

  Dim lanterns flickered softly.

  The same place Lars had stood only hours ago, asking innocent questions about mana and Ki.

  Now—

  He stood in chains.

  Grandolf moved behind his desk slowly.

  “Unbind him.”

  Natalia’s gaze sharpened immediately.

  “Head Master—”

  “That is an order.”

  Her jaw tightened.

  “He stands accused in the death of an S Rank.”

  “And these restraints would not stop him if he chose otherwise.”

  The words were casual.

  Almost amused.

  Natalia’s eyes flicked to Lars.

  Then back to Grandolf.

  “What do you mean?”

  Grandolf’s gaze never left the boy.

  “The cuffs are symbolic.”

  He folded his hands lightly.

  “If he wished to break them, he could.”

  Silence.

  Natalia stared at him.

  “You speak as if you know something I do not.”

  Grandolf smiled faintly.

  “I know enough.”

  The air in the room shifted.

  Natalia studied Lars again.

  He stood slumped.

  Head lowered.

  Shoulders heavy.

  No tension in his body.

  No defiance.

  No surge of power.

  Just defeat.

  Grandolf’s voice softened slightly.

  “Remove them.”

  After a long pause—

  Natalia stepped forward herself.

  She unlocked the mana cuffs.

  The metal fell away.

  Lars did not move.

  He did not even look at his wrists.

  He simply stood there.

  Grandolf watched him carefully.

  “You recognize me.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  Lars’ mind was elsewhere.

  Rin’s voice echoed in his thoughts.

  Who are you?

  Then—

  The words pierced through his fog.

  “If he wished to break them…”

  Lars looked up slowly.

  And truly saw Grandolf for the first time tonight.

  The man from the archives.

  The one who had handed him books.

  The one who had asked what he wished to learn.

  Recognition dawned faintly.

  “You…”

  Grandolf inclined his head slightly.

  “Yes.”

  Natalia’s gaze shifted between them.

  “You’ve met before.”

  “In passing,” Grandolf replied calmly.

  Lars’ voice was barely above a whisper.

  “You’re… the archivist.”

  A faint smile.

  “One of many titles.”

  The tension in the room thickened.

  Natalia crossed her arms.

  “Head Master.”

  Her tone was firm.

  “An S Rank warrior is dead.”

  “Yes.” He nodded.

  “The only witness claims memory loss.”

  “Yes.” He agreed once more.

  “And you remove restraints and speak in riddles.”

  Grandolf’s eyes flicked to her.

  Sharp now.

  “No.”

  He stepped around the desk slowly.

  “I remove unnecessary symbolism.”

  He stopped in front of Lars.

  Close enough to see the boy’s hollow expression.

  “Tell me,” Grandolf said gently.

  “What do you remember?”

  Lars swallowed.

  His throat dry.

  “We were fighting.”

  He closed his eyes briefly.

  “I remember losing control.”

  Natalia’s gaze sharpened at that.

  Grandolf did not react outwardly.

  “And after.”

  “…Darkness.”

  He hesitated.

  The Void flickered in his memory.

  The Light.

  The words spoken.

  But he didn’t know if he should say that.

  He didn’t know if it was madness.

  “When I woke up… he was already…”

  His voice failed.

  Grandolf watched him closely.

  Searching.

  Not for guilt.

  For confirmation.

  Natalia’s patience thinned.

  “Head Master, regardless of what he recalls, Osbin Durnhart lies dead.”

  “Yes.” he acknowledged.

  Grandolf turned slowly toward her.

  “And that is precisely why we must proceed correctly.”

  The room fell silent.

  Even the lantern flames seemed to still.

  Lars stood motionless.

  As if already judged.

  As if he had accepted whatever would come next.

  The archives were quiet.

  Lanternlight flickered softly across shelves of ancient tomes, shadows stretching long and uneven across the wooden floor. The air smelled of parchment and melted wax. It felt distant from the chaos outside — as if the world had paused within these walls.

  Lars stood in the center of the room.

  Natalia stood beside him, posture straight, white and red armor trimmed in gold gleaming beneath the lanternlight. Her silver rapier rested at her side, polished and pristine — a sharp contrast to the darkness in her eyes.

  Across from them stood Head Master Grandolf.

  His aged face was calm. Too calm.

  He looked at Lars for a long moment before finally speaking once more.

  “Before we speak of Osbin’s death,” Grandolf began slowly, “I want to understand something.”

  Lars lifted his gaze weakly.

  “Why did Osbin offer to train you?”

  The question caught Lars off guard. It wasn’t accusation. It wasn’t anger.

  It was curiosity.

  Natalia’s eyes narrowed slightly. That was the right question.

  Lars swallowed, trying to steady himself.

  “I didn’t ask him to,” he said quietly. “He came to me.”

  Grandolf’s eyes did not waver. “Osbin Durnhart was not a man who trained strangers. He valued strength. Discipline. Time. He did not waste any of those things. So I ask again… why you?”

  Lars’ chest tightened.

  “He said I was dangerous.”

  Natalia’s eyes sharpened immediately.

  Grandolf tilted his head slightly. “Explain.”

  Lars took a slow breath.

  “He woke me up early this morning… before the forest. Took me to the guild’s private training yard. He told me to close my eyes and feel the energy around me. To gather it and move it through my body.”

  “Ki,” Grandolf said quietly.

  “Yes,” Lars nodded.

  “He attacked me while I tried to hold it. Told me that instinct matters more than thought. That in real combat, your body must move before your mind.”

  Grandolf’s expression remained unreadable.

  “And what happened?”

  “I dodged. For a while.” Lars hesitated. “Then he said I couldn’t dodge forever. That I had to strike back.”

  Natalia folded her arms, listening closely.

  “I hit him,” Lars continued. “He wasn’t using Ki at first… but when I struck, he reacted. His body moved before he thought. He hit the wall.”

  Natalia’s brows knit together slightly.

  “You injured an S Rank?” she asked.

  “I didn’t mean to,” Lars said quickly. “I was just doing what he told me.”

  Grandolf watched carefully.

  “And after that?”

  “He approached me later in the hall,” Lars said. “After I spoke with Rin. He said I was more capable than I understood. That he believed I was S Rank level as a Ki user.”

  Natalia’s expression shifted — not disbelief, but resistance to the idea.

  Grandolf’s thoughts deepened.

  So Osbin had confirmed it.

  He saw something in the boy.

  “And that is when he offered to train you outside the walls?” Grandolf asked.

  “Yes.”

  Lars’ voice trembled slightly now, but he continued.

  “In the forest… before we even fought each other, we were attacked.”

  Grandolf’s gaze sharpened. “By what?”

  “A Timberfang Stalker.”

  Natalia immediately stiffened. “Those beasts specialize in precision strikes. They hunt from the trees. Often in packs.”

  “He said we were lucky it was alone,” Lars replied.

  “And you?” Grandolf asked.

  “He used it as training,” Lars said. “Told me to treat it as real combat. To react.”

  “And you killed it?”

  “Yes.”

  The lanternlight flickered.

  An orange-core predator. Not a weak creature.

  Grandolf folded his hands behind his back.

  “And after that?”

  “We went deeper,” Lars said. “Found a clearing. He drew his axe and shield. Said he wouldn’t hold back anymore.”

  Natalia’s jaw tightened faintly.

  “It was completely different from the morning,” Lars continued. “He used Ki. Fully. It was overwhelming. I couldn’t think. I was just trying to survive.”

  “And the fatal moment?” Grandolf asked quietly.

  Lars’ expression faltered.

  “I remember fighting,” he said slowly. “I remember being exhausted. My body moving on its own. And then… nothing.”

  Silence filled the archives.

  “I don’t remember how he died,” Lars finished, his voice nearly breaking.

  Natalia looked at him sharply. “You expect us to believe that?”

  Lars lowered his head. “I wish I didn’t.”

  The room fell quiet again.

  Grandolf turned slightly, walking toward one of the shelves, though his thoughts were far beyond the books before him.

  An S Rank of Solaris was dead.

  The King would demand explanation.

  King Sylvester would not tolerate instability — not within his kingdom. Not within his ranks.

  If this reached the throne plainly… the boy’s fate would be sealed.

  Execution.

  Swift and decisive.

  Grandolf closed his eyes briefly.

  Osbin had seen something in the boy. Something worth testing. Worth risking himself for.

  And that alone meant this situation was not simple.

  If Lars truly possessed power beyond measure — if he truly stood at the threshold of something like Dragon Slayer potential — then killing him out of haste could cost Solaris far more in the long run.

  But protecting him openly would cause unrest.

  Grandolf turned back to them.

  “Captain Valcrest.”

  Natalia straightened. “Yes, Head Master.”

  “The boy will be placed in Association imprisonment while I conduct further investigation.”

  Natalia nodded once. It was procedural. Controlled.

  Lars did not resist as she stepped toward him.

  He didn’t argue. Didn’t plead.

  He looked hollow.

  As if he had already accepted whatever fate awaited him.

  As the archive doors closed behind them, Grandolf remained alone in the lanternlight.

  “If the King learns of this before I understand it fully…” he murmured softly to himself, “the boy will not see another sunrise.”

  His gaze darkened slightly.

  “And I am not yet convinced that would serve Solaris.”

  ?

  Wilds Guild — Later That Night

  The halls of the Wilds Guild felt heavier than usual.

  Gallant walked toward Guild Master Raiyo’s office, unease gnawing at him. He had attempted to contact Vernon twice since the incident.

  No response.

  That was not part of the agreement.

  He entered the office.

  Raiyo sat behind his desk.

  A bottle rested beside him.

  A glass already poured.

  Gallant felt something twist in his chest.

  He never drinks.

  “Report,” Raiyo said quietly.

  “Crimson Flare recovered Osbin from the southern forest,” Gallant replied carefully. “He… did not survive.”

  Raiyo’s grip tightened around the glass.

  “And the boy?”

  “In custody.”

  “Cause?”

  “Under investigation.”

  Raiyo poured another drink slowly.

  “He was strong,” Raiyo muttered. “I was always hard on him because I expected more.”

  Gallant forced himself to remain steady.

  “The observer,” Raiyo said after a pause. “Has he reported?”

  Gallant hesitated for only a fraction of a second.

  “No. Not yet.”

  Raiyo’s eyes lifted briefly.

  “That is unusual.”

  “Yes.”

  “I want answers.”

  “You will have them.”

  Raiyo waved him away.

  “Leave me.”

  Gallant stepped out into the hall, heart pounding.

  Vernon… what did you do?

  ?

  The Underworld

  Far beneath the kingdoms of Sesilia, where sunlight never touched stone, a city thrived in shadow.

  Lanterns burned dim along cavern streets. Figures of every race moved through darkness — assassins, slavers, smugglers, information brokers.

  At the center of it all stood a towering structure of black stone.

  Carved into its entrance in sharp obsidian lettering:

  The Eternal Dusk

  Where the underworld gathered.

  A tall figure approached.

  Elegant coat. Refined posture. A faint, knowing smile.

  Vernon stepped inside without hesitation.

  The heavy doors closed behind him.

  And somewhere above, in the kingdom of Solaris, the storm had only just begun.