It took them thirty minutes to walk from the base of the mountain to the village — a stretch of roughly seven kilometers across narrow dirt paths and sparse woods.

  He walked without complaint. The cloak fluttered slightly as the breeze cut through the trees. He moved without stiffness, without the unease of a man unfamiliar with his body. In silence, he followed Eva and Seth through the winding trail until the rooftops of the village came into view.

  Kareth Village — a quiet settlement tucked into a valley, surrounded by shallow hills and thick brush. Seventy families lived here, most of them born and raised within these borders. Everyone knew everyone else. News spread faster than footsteps.

  As the three entered the village, every conversation in the street seemed to slow. Heads turned. Baskets paused mid-air. Children stared openly.

  A man wrapped in nothing but a dull cloak, his face expressionless, his eyes calm, and his presence — heavy.

  Whispers began immediately.

  "Who's that?"

  "A new face?"

  "Did something happen in the forest?"

  A group of boys, no older than fourteen, broke into laughter near a well. One of them pointed and called out loud enough for all to hear, “Hey, Eva! You get yourself a new slave? Don’t you know slavery’s been banned since last season’s decree?”

  Laughter followed.

  Eva rolled her eyes and shot back, “You little brat, I already have Seth. Why would I need a slave?”

  Seth, used to being the village’s favorite target, grinned. “Oi, I’m not a slave, I’m your husband.”

  Their daughter, a small child with puffed cheeks and unsteady legs, burst through the legs of the crowd yelling, “Mommy! Daddy!”

  Eva knelt and caught the girl in her arms, planting a kiss on her forehead before standing again.

  Then, a deep voice cut through the air like a cleaver. “Eva. Seth. Who is that?”

  The crowd parted as Dan stepped forward. A burly man with a shaved head, thick arms, and a temperament twice as loud as his voice. His eyes narrowed at Ren.

  Eva answered without hesitation. “We found him near the northern ridge. Crater wasn’t even cold. Fell like a star.”

  Dan’s expression turned ugly. The vein on his forehead bulged. “And you brought him back? Are you out of your mind?”

  Seth stepped between them. “We checked. He’s human. His spiritual resonance matches ours — low-tier A-9. Weak, even. If he were dangerous, we’d never have brought him here.”

  Dan spat to the side. “That’s not the point. Two from Heiner village were found near the river. Torn apart. This timing isn’t normal.”

  The crowd tensed. Murmurs rose again. Some faces grew pale.

  But before the tension could rise further, a voice — steady and firm — cut through.

  “Enough.”

  Everyone turned.

  An old man walked slowly from the direction of the meeting hall. His hair was mostly white, his beard short and well-kept. His frame was lean, but he moved with the confidence of one who still commanded respect. Despite being in his sixties, he radiated a subtle force of life — not from strength, but sheer presence.

  This was Elder Harven, chief of Kareth Village.

  Dan turned, bowing slightly. “Sir Chief… Heiner might report this to the Arbiter. If they think we’re harboring someone suspicious—”

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  “The Arbiter is no fool,” Harven said, his tone flat. “He makes decisions based on evidence, not suspicion. The two near the river — they were torn limb from limb. No clean cuts. No signs of tools. Whatever killed them wasn’t human.”

  The crowd quieted again.

  Harven’s eyes turned to the stranger. Sharp, but not hostile.

  “Do you remember your name?” he asked.

  He looked back at the elderly man.

  He waited for two seconds. Not because he hesitated, but because he examined the question carefully — weighed the man’s eyes, his tone, the breath between his words.

  Then, he answered.

  “I don’t know.”

  There was no falsehood. No tremor. Just a plain statement of fact.

  Harven nodded slightly. He studied the man for a few moments longer. “If you have nowhere to go, you may stay. But this is a working village. No one eats for free. You’ll work, and you’ll keep your head down.”

  Ren said nothing.

  But he looked around the village — the way the birds chirped above the rooftops, the wind fluttering the laundry, the lingering gazes of a few curious girls. And Dan, still watching him with a look that wasn’t quite hostility, but something colder. Caution mixed with calculation.

  He nodded.

  Harven continued, “Since Eva and Seth brought you here, you’ll stay with them for now. There’s space.”

  The couple nodded.

  Harven looked Ren over once more. “You’ll need a name,” he said after a moment’s thought. “We can’t just call you ‘stranger.’ From now on, you’ll be called… Ren.”

  The name settled in the air like a stone in a well.

  Ren didn’t react. But simply nodded.

  Harven turned to the crowd. “That’s enough. Back to your tasks.”

  Gradually, the people dispersed. Whispers faded. Baskets were lifted again. Doors closed. Dan lingered the longest, watching Ren until the last second before turning away.

  Nightfall-

  The moon rose.

  Kareth Village had no streetlamps. Only the soft flicker of oil lanterns and the glow from house windows lit the paths.

  Inside a modest home near the village’s edge, Eva laid their daughter to sleep while Seth prepared bedding in the main room. A mat, some folded cloth, a jug of water.

  Ren stood silently by the window, watching the stars.

  “Not the best welcome,” Seth said, settling down beside the fire. “But it could’ve gone worse. Elder Harven’s a fair man.”

  Ren didn’t reply.

  “You really don’t remember anything?” Seth asked.

  Ren turned his head slightly. “Nothing before the fall.”

  Seth shrugged. “Well. Maybe that’s a blessing.”

  Silence stretched.

  Eva came back from the other room, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ll sleep here. Don’t worry, we don’t lock doors. If you try anything, we’ll just break your legs.”

  There was no heat in her words, only tired honesty.

  Ren nodded once.

  As they all settled down for the night, Ren lay on his back, eyes open. The ceiling was unfamiliar. The scents were new. But he memorized them. Every sound. Every detail.

  His mind did not wander.

  He had no dreams.

  But within his chest, faint and far beneath flesh and skin, something pulsed.

  Thump. Thump.