Knock. Knock. Knock.

  The sound wasn’t earth-shaking like before. Just firm, steady. Enough to pull me out of my restless thoughts.

  I opened the door, greeted by the sight of Stewart standing there with his usual easy grin. Compared to last night, he seemed more relaxed.

  “You ready?” he asked casually, resting his hand on his hip. “We should get moving soon. It’s going to be at least seven days before we reach Wolfhiem, and the sooner we leave, the better.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, we’re ready… but,” I hesitated, glancing back into the house. “How exactly are we supposed to transport Rias and all our things?”

  Stewart jerked his thumb behind him. “See for yourself.”

  I stepped outside and followed his gesture.

  Rolling up the dirt path was a large wooden cart pulled by two sturdy horses. Sitting at the reins was Lily, calmly steering them forward. Sasha and Bardock were lounging in the back, chatting softly as the cart creaked its way toward us.

  But what caught my eye the most… was what followed behind.

  A hulking figure, easily taller than even Bardock, trudged along silently. Its body gleamed faintly in the early morning sun — entirely made of iron. Its heavy steps left shallow dents in the dirt as it followed obediently behind the cart like a loyal hound.

  I blinked. “What… is that?”

  Stewart chuckled. “Ah, that’s our golem. Sasha’s tame.”

  My brow furrowed. “Golem? You mean, like, a monster?”

  “Sort of,” Stewart replied, waving his hand. “They’re technically monsters, but they’re man-made. You craft them using materials — in this case, iron — and bind them using a mana crystal. Takes a skilled craftsman to make one right, though. Wild golems do exist, but they’re rare.”

  I stared as the iron giant walked silently behind the cart. Its glowing eyes reminded me of Sk?ll’s, though much colder. “So… you guys made that thing?”

  “Nah,” Stewart said, shaking his head. “A master craftsman back in Ikol built it for us. It’s perfect for long trips like this — keeps bandits and beasts away, hauls supplies, doesn’t complain.”

  Hearing the name, I tilted my head curiously. “Ikol… where’s that?”

  Before Stewart could answer, Lily’s voice carried over from the cart as it drew closer.

  “Ikol’s south of Wolfhiem,” she explained. “It’s the capital of Dival — the kingdom ruled by the royal family. And where the Duke of Wolfhiem, Orpheus’s father, used to call home.”

  My mind reeled a little at that. The royal capital. That meant… after Wolfhiem, our journey might not end.

  I shook off the thought for now as Stewart clapped his hands together. “Anyway, it’s time to load up. Pack your things, and let’s get moving.”

  I nodded and headed back inside to fetch our belongings.

  Rias sat quietly by the table, running her fingers gently over the edges of her cloak. Though she couldn’t see, she always seemed aware when I approached.

  “Is it time?” she asked softly.

  “Yeah,” I said, hoisting our bags onto my back. “We’re all set. They’ve got a cart ready for you too.”

  She smiled faintly. “I see.”

  Her expression turned thoughtful — maybe even a little anxious. I knew she was nervous. We had never left the mountains before. Everything beyond this village… it was all unknown.

  I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry,” I said quietly. “I’ll handle everything. You just focus on resting during the trip.”

  She nodded, trusting me as always.

  Once I finished packing the last of our belongings, we stepped outside together.

  Sk?ll followed at my side, walking silently as if understanding this was something important. He gave the golem a brief, unimpressed glance but didn’t growl. At least he wasn’t looking for a fight.

  Sasha waved from the cart as we approached. “You two ready?”

  “Ready as we’ll ever be,” I said.

  With that, we loaded our things, helped Rias carefully into the cart, and took our seats. The morning sun was just beginning to rise, casting golden light across the mountain path.

  As the horses began to move and our old home slowly disappeared behind us, I felt a strange mixture of excitement and unease settle in my chest.

  The mountains had always been our prison and our refuge.

  Now… we were leaving them behind.

  For the first time in years, we were stepping into the wider world — a world I knew nothing about.

  I glanced at Rias, resting quietly beside me, then at Sk?ll, who trotted alongside the cart, tail swaying gently.

  What will we find beyond these peaks?

  I didn’t know.

  But whatever it was… we were about to find out.

  Hours passed as we traveled down the winding mountain roads, leaving our home further and further behind.

  The ride had been quiet for the most part, but my mind wouldn’t stop racing. Every now and then, I glanced at Sasha, watching the way her snowy white hair shimmered softly under the sunlight. Her crimson eyes, though calm now, still held a faint intensity that I couldn’t help but find curious.

  I hesitated for a while, but finally, my curiosity got the better of me.

  “So, Sasha,” I began carefully, breaking the silence. “I’ve been wondering something ever since I met you.”

  She blinked and tilted her head slightly, listening.

  “Your hair and eyes… they’re really different from anyone I’ve ever met. Back in our village, before everything happened, I never saw anyone with features like yours. Why is that?”

  Sasha looked at me for a moment, then gave a small smile as if she’d been asked this plenty of times before.

  “Well… I’m what you’d call a half-breed,” she said simply.

  I frowned. “A half-breed?”

  Before she could explain, Lily chimed in from the front of the cart. “It means someone born from two different races,” she explained. “Like if a human and an elf had a child.”

  “Oh,” I said, nodding slowly. I turned back to Sasha. “So, what are you mixed with?”

  Puffing out her chest proudly, Sasha smiled. “I’m half human… and half Biri.”

  I blinked. “Biri?” I repeated, confused. “What’s that?”

  She giggled softly. “Biri is actually the name of a god,” she said.

  That caught me completely off guard. I stared. “Wait—so what does that make you? A demi-god or something?”

  Sasha laughed and shook her head. “No, no. Not at all,” she said quickly, waving her hands. “It’s nothing like that. You see, Biri is the god who created the Second Race of humans and the Dark Elves. Those of us who descend from the Second Race usually inherit traits like white hair, red eyes, and dark skin.”

  Stewart, who had been quiet up until now, chimed in with a smirk. “Biri’s also called the God of the Night,” he added knowingly.

  Sasha nodded. “Right. My father is from the Second Race. I only inherited his red eyes and white hair, though. My skin stayed fair like my mother’s, who was fully human.”

  She glanced down at her hands as she spoke, her tone softening slightly.

  “People from the Second Race often call themselves Biri,” Sasha added softly. “It’s a way to honor the god who created them — and to remind others of who they are.”

  I leaned back slightly, absorbing everything she said.

  So… gods who shaped entire races, and people born with strange and unique traits.

  The world outside the mountains was already proving to be bigger and stranger than I ever imagined.

  I leaned forward curiously. “Are there any other gods you know about?”

  Stewart was the first to answer, tapping his chin. “I know a couple. There’s the Human God, Ikol — he created the first race of humans. The capital city of Dival is even named after him.”

  Lily nodded and added, “There’s also the Wolf God, though… his name’s been lost to time. All anyone remembers is that he created the divine beasts known as Dire Wolves.”

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  Bardock, who had been quietly listening, spoke up next. “There’s also Silvanus — the Forest God. He’s said to be the creator of elves and all forests.”

  Finally, Lily looked thoughtful and added, “And Fáfnir. The Dragon God. He created dragons and a race known as the Dragon Kin.”

  I blinked, sitting up straighter. “Dragon Kin? What do they look like?”

  Sasha shook her head. “No one really knows. They aren’t allowed anywhere near this kingdom. There’s been too much bloodshed between them and humans — wars that go back centuries.”

  Lily chimed in again, more softly. “But it’s said they look mostly human… just with some dragon-like features. Scales, horns, maybe wings. That sort of thing.”

  I leaned back against the wooden rail of the cart, letting the voices around me fade into the sound of wheels crunching dirt.

  Dragons. Gods. Forgotten races. A world too big to imagine.

  I used to think the mountains were everything.

  Now I know they were just the beginning.

  And I’m going to see it all.

  But before I could see what this world had to offer, I still had to meet the Duke… and hope he wouldn’t send Rias and me away.

  The day passed quickly, the road winding through dense forest and hills. As the sun dipped low behind the treetops, Stewart scouted out a perfect campsite — a quiet clearing surrounded by thick woods, wide enough for tents and a fire.

  After we finished setting up, Stewart stretched and cracked his knuckles. With a confident grin, he turned to me.

  “Hey, Arthur. Mind sparring with me?”

  I blinked, surprised. “You… want to fight me?”

  He nodded eagerly. “You bet. I haven’t had a good match in a while, and fighting someone when you have no clue how they move? That’s the best kind.”

  I let out a quiet sigh, glancing at the sword strapped to my back. “Alright, fine. I’ll spar with you. But I’m not sure you’ll get much out of it.”

  Stewart grinned wider. “We’ll see about that.”

  I reached for my sword and stepped into the clearing, heart already beating faster.

  I stepped into the clearing, drawing my sword with a smooth motion. The blade caught the last light of the fading sun, and I felt the familiar weight settle into my hand. Across from me, Stewart loosened up his shoulders and unsheathed two short swords — each one slightly curved, perfect for quick slashes and counterattacks.

  “You ready, kid?” he asked with a grin.

  “I could ask you the same,” I replied, planting my feet.

  Stewart lunged first — fast.

  I barely managed to parry the blow, the clang of metal against metal ringing through the air. His footwork was agile, practiced. I could tell he was holding back, testing the waters.

  I shifted my stance and countered, aiming a low sweep at his leg. He jumped back easily, laughing.

  “Not bad!” he said. “You’ve got good instincts.”

  “Instincts won’t help if I can’t keep up,” I muttered.

  He came in again, this time faster, a flurry of strikes meant to overwhelm. I gritted my teeth, blocking one after another, each hit pushing me back a step. I saw an opening and swung wide — too wide.

  Stewart ducked under it, spun, and tapped my shoulder with the flat of his blade. “Dead.”

  “Tch.” I backed away, regaining my footing. “Again.”

  His grin widened. “Now we’re talking.”

  We went again — steel flashing, boots skidding against dirt. This time, I kept my strikes tighter, more controlled. He still moved like water around me, but I could tell he wasn’t expecting the burst of strength I put into my next blow.

  Our blades locked, his short swords crossed against mine.

  “You’re strong,” he said through clenched teeth. “Stronger than you look.”

  “You don’t look that strong either,” I shot back.

  We broke apart, both of us breathing heavier now.

  This time, I moved first. I feinted left, then pivoted, using the momentum to drive my blade toward his side. He twisted just in time, but I grazed his jacket.

  “That one would’ve hurt,” he said, chuckling.

  “Better step it up, old man.”

  He raised a brow. “Old man?! I’m twenty-nine!”

  I shrugged. “Could’ve fooled me.”

  He let out a bark of laughter and came at me again — a flash of silver, the crack of blades. We clashed in the center of the clearing, our movements faster, rougher. The spar dragged on until finally, he stepped back and raised both hands.

  “Alright, alright. That’s enough. I’m sweating through my shirt over here.”

  I lowered my sword, chest rising and falling.

  “Not bad, Arthur,” he said, wiping his brow. “You’ve got raw talent — and if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve seen actual combat.”

  I looked down at my blade, remembering the Cryall… the blood… the burning torch in my hands.

  “…I have.”

  Stewart’s expression sobered. He didn’t press further.

  “Get some rest,” he said instead. “Tomorrow’s a long day.”

  He turned and walked back toward the fire.

  I stood in the clearing a little longer, letting the night air cool the sweat from my brow. Then I sheathed my sword and followed after him.

  As I joined everyone by the fire, Bardock looked up and said with a genuine smile, “Nice work. It was fun watching you two go at it.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, a little embarrassed. “Well… I couldn’t even land a clean hit. And it was pretty obvious he was holding back.”

  “Damn straight, kid,” Stewart said proudly, giving me a wink.

  Lily smirked. “That’s because he wasn’t even using mana.”

  I turned to her, curious. “You mentioned that yesterday — about Stewart infusing his sword with mana. How does that actually work? What’s the benefit?”

  Stewart leaned forward, clearly excited to talk about it. “Glad you asked. When I use my mana, I can channel it into my swords to make them sharper and more durable. Helps them cut cleaner and hold up in a fight.”

  He held up one of his blades, letting the firelight reflect along its edge. “But that’s not all. I can also infuse my own body. Makes me faster, stronger — it’s like invisible armor wrapped around your muscles.”

  My eyes widened slightly. “That’s… actually pretty amazing.”

  He grinned. “It is. But it burns through mana fast. You’ve gotta know when to use it and when to hold back. Otherwise, you’ll end up exhausted before the real fight even starts.”

  Sasha chimed in, a bit smug, “It only runs out fast for him because he barely has more mana than I do.”

  Stewart let out a sigh. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. Some people are just lucky to be born with big mana pools.”

  I looked up, curious. “Is there a way to measure how much mana someone has? Like, an accurate way?”

  Lily nodded. “There are actually two methods. The first is something called Mana Eyes. It’s a technique where you infuse mana into your eyes to see a person’s aura. The larger the aura, the more mana they have.”

  She paused, then added, “You can also see their elemental affinities by the color of their aura.”

  I blinked. “Wait… color?”

  “Exactly,” Lily said. “Each element has a different color. Raw mana is blue. Fire is red. Water’s a deeper blue — almost navy. Lightning is yellow, Earth is brown, Wind is green… and Null?”

  She looked at me meaningfully.

  “Null is black.”

  My eyes widened. “So… is Mana Eyes hard to learn?”

  Sasha jumped in to explain. “Yeah, it’s pretty difficult. You have to focus your mana into your eyes and activate special receptors that let you see mana. Most people have to train for it.”

  Then she tilted her head. “Though… some rare folks are born with those receptors already open. Their eyes look like they have rainbows swirling inside them. It’s beautiful — but they can never turn it off.”

  “Huh,” I murmured. “That’s… kind of amazing.”

  Lily continued, “The second method is easier, though rarer to come by — it’s called an Info Crystal. It’s basically a mana crystal that’s been enchanted with Null magic. You touch it, and it displays your stats — including your mana pool and elemental affinities.”

  I leaned forward, intrigued. “So… this info crystal — where could someone actually use one?”

  Lily poked the fire with a stick, causing a burst of sparks to flicker into the night. “You’ll find one at any Adventurers’ Guild. Most major cities have a guild hall. Once we reach Wolfhiem, you’ll be able to get tested there.”

  Sasha added, “It can show your mana level, elemental affinities, and even a few personal stats — like strength or agility. They’re super rare outside the guilds, though. Regular folks don’t get access to them.”

  “That sounds… kind of crazy,” I murmured, rubbing the back of my neck. “A crystal that just knows everything about you?”

  “Null-element enchantments are no joke,” Stewart said with a grin. “Kind of ironic that a wild-card element is what gives us the most accurate readings.”

  I leaned back on my hands, staring up at the stars peeking through the canopy above us. “Well… I guess I’ll see what I’m really made of soon enough.”

  A quiet hush settled over the camp as the fire popped softly. The tension from earlier was gone, replaced by a calm sense of anticipation.

  Lily finally stood and stretched. “Alright. We’ve got a long road ahead. Everyone get some rest. We leave at sunrise.”

  One by one, the others drifted off to their tents.

  I gave Sk?ll one last scratch behind the ears before heading into mine. He curled up outside near the dying fire, his blue eyes already heavy with sleep.

  Tomorrow, I thought, we’ll be one step closer to the truth.

  The next morning came sooner than expected.

  Birds chirped faintly in the distance, and the scent of dew hung in the crisp forest air. I sat up, stretching stiff joints from a night of tossing and turning.

  As I stepped outside, something felt… off.

  I glanced toward the fire pit — and froze.

  Sk?ll was gone.

  The spot where he usually curled up was empty. No paw prints, no fur, no sign of struggle — just faint impressions in the dirt where he’d last laid down.

  “Sk?ll?” I called, eyes sweeping the surrounding trees.

  No response.

  I walked a few paces out into the clearing, scanning every shadow.

  “Sk?ll!” I called again, louder this time.

  The others started to stir behind me. Stewart emerged from his tent, blinking sleep from his eyes. “What’s with the shouting?”

  “I… I don’t see Sk?ll,” I said, frowning. “He’s gone.”

  Lily stepped out next, already buckling her gear. “Gone? Are you sure he didn’t just wander off to relieve himself or scout ahead?”

  “Maybe,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. “We’ve only known each other two days, but… I don’t know. Something feels wrong.”

  Sasha tilted her head, brushing her white hair from her face. “Dire wolves usually stick close to their bonded partners. If he left, there had to be a reason.”

  Bardock stood with a grunt, hand resting on his axe. “Guess we’re starting the day with a search.”

  I nodded, scanning the forest again, trying to shake the tight knot forming in my chest.

  Two days isn’t long… but it already felt strange without him here.

  Day 2 passed in a blur.

  Just like the day before, we made camp, shared stories by the fire, and I sparred with Stewart again. He was relentless as ever, grinning like a fool every time he blocked one of my attacks like it was nothing.

  But even with the routine setting in, two things still nagged at me—Sk?ll’s absence… and Rias’s silence.

  Once everyone had turned in for the night, I sat beside her near the fire’s fading glow.

  “You’ve been quiet,” I said softly. “Something wrong?”

  She didn’t answer right away, just sat with her knees pulled close, her sightless eyes turned to the stars.

  “I’m fine,” she eventually said. “Just thinking… wondering what’ll happen once we reach Wolfhiem.”

  I nodded, understanding the fear behind her words. “You don’t need to worry. No matter what happens—I’ll be there. With you.”

  A small smile tugged at her lips. “I know,” she whispered.

  She went to bed soon after, but her words lingered with me through the night.

  Morning came—

  And with it… a completely different Rias.

  She was laughing.

  Actually laughing.

  I blinked, watching as she sat near the cart, chatting with Lily and Sasha like they were old friends.

  Stewart, never one to pass up a chance to ruin a peaceful moment, raised his arms dramatically.

  “Well, well, well,” he declared. “Would you look at that! The Lady Giantess speaks! I was starting to think she’d frozen solid overnight.”

  Rias tilted her head slightly at the nickname, clearly confused.

  But Sasha didn’t need to hesitate.

  Her foot met Stewart’s groin with brutal accuracy.

  He crumpled like a sack of potatoes, groaning into the dirt.

  “For someone who claims to be good at reading people,” I muttered, “he’s got a real blind spot when it comes to Sasha.”

  Lily just sipped her tea and said, “That’s because he never learns.”

  Today was a much happier day than the last two. The ride was more energetic, filled with laughter as we traveled along the mountain road. The golem followed behind the cart surprisingly quietly, considering it was a towering mass of iron.

  As we rode, I turned to Lily. “Hey… how come we haven’t had any monster attacks?”

  She glanced over her shoulder from the driver’s seat. “It’s because of the golem. Most weak monsters won’t come anywhere near it. In fact, sometimes we have to leave it behind just so we can actually find monsters for quests.”

  “Seriously?”

  She nodded. “Monsters have a way of sensing strength. A golem might be artificial, but it’s still technically a monster — and a powerful one. Most lesser beasts know better than to get close.”

  I leaned forward, resting my arms on the edge of the cart. “So what kind of monsters wouldbe crazy enough to attack it?”

  “That depends,” Stewart answered from behind me. “Up in these mountains? Maybe a wyvern or something around its size — but honestly, this range isn’t known for powerful monsters. It’s mostly quiet.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

  “Because,” Stewart said, stretching his arms, “this whole mountain range is well-known Dire Wolf territory. They keep the monster population down.”

  His words hit me harder than I expected.

  Dire Wolf territory…

  Then why did a Cryall horde attack our village?

  It didn’t make sense. If Dire Wolves really kept other monsters in check, then that kind of attack never should’ve happened. I thought back to the blood, the screaming, the cellar door—

  But I pushed the thought away. For now, I’d keep that to myself.

  Time passed quickly, and we eventually found another good spot to make camp. Tonight, I didn’t bother staying up by the fire. I went straight to bed, too tired for conversation or sparring.

  The cold breeze rustled the tent flap as I drifted off to sleep, my thoughts heavy with unanswered questions.

  But somewhere in the middle of the night… something pulled me from sleep.

  Not sound. Not movement.

  A feeling.

  I sat up slowly and turned toward the canvas of the tent.

  There — faint, cast by the fire’s dying glow — was the shadow of something standing just outside.