The fire crackled low in the hearth, casting long and flickering shadows across the living room. Axel leaned forward, trying to absorb the tension radiating from Hector and Elaine. They had been silent since Hector's words, the weight of memory pressing down on them.
"So… you actually went beyond the outer walls?" Axel asked cautiously.
Hector's gaze hardened and answered, "Yes... we did."
Elaine's voice was barely a whisper.
"It all started in the city on the border… the one they call the Gate of Death…"
Rain hammered against the carriage roof as it approached the sprawling border city of Vardane. This city sat like a wound along the Empire's outer walls. But for the locals this city was also known by another name, Gate of Death.
The rain almost never stopped around this city. It was said that even the heavens mourned here, for every soldier, scout and soul that vanished beyond the Empire walls. A storm battered the land that day, the wind thick with the acrid smell of mud and smoke. Despite the constant rain, the city's outline loomed vast and oppressive towering walls, domed towers and a dense network of streets and buildings filled with 400,000 souls.
Inside the carriage that was heading toward the city Vardane, Hector sat across from Elaine, wiping fog from the window with his sleeve.
"How do people even live here?" she asked softly, her tone carrying disbelief more than curiosity.
"They don't live. They merely exist."
As Hector and Elaine rode through the main gates, shutters were thrown open, children raced carts along rain-slick streets and the smell of bread drifted from narrow alleys. The name was a warning among strangers, not the verdict for everyone who lived here.
Soldiers patrolled the misty streets, while markets and homes clung to every inch of space. At the edge of the city, a heavily fortified military outpost bristled with powerful SINISA soldiers. A reminder that this was the Empire's outer line of defence against a enemy nation or the unknown.
Both Hector and Elaine were heading towards this outpost. As they arrived and stepped from the carriage, three figures were already waiting on them.
A girl named Lira stepped forward first, short-haired, sharp-eyed, with a twin set of daggers gleaming in the stormlight. Her eyes scanned Elaine and Hector, as if they were missing something.
Then there was Kanee, tall and broad, carrying heavy armor as though it were a part of him. The rain made his golden breastplate shine dull and wet.
And lastly, there was Ruben. Restless and lean, adjusting his crossbow strap for the fifth time, muttering to himself. His eyes darted constantly, catching every shadow and ripple in the mist.
"Where's Balin?" Lira asked.
Hector smirked, shrugging. "Who needs him? Clearly, I'm the leader today."
"We've heard that one before." Ruben muttered silently.
Then Kanee started laughing. "Even without him having a SINISA, you've never managed to beat him. Not even during training."
Hector protested, but Elaine's glare stopped him and silently indicating that Balin was on top of the carriage. But aside from the driver at the front, the carriage was empty. But suddenly, the sound of footsteps squelching through the mud reached them.
hrough the mist behind them that led to the center of the city a figure emerged while being calm and deliberate. Balin, a boy with twin swords strapped to his back, brown hair plastered to his face by the rain. His eyes swept over the group, assessing and calculating. "Good, you're all here." he said firmly.
"Practicing your vanishing act again, Balin?" Lira said with a cheerful tone.
He shrugged. He had a slow, dry laugh that did not reach his eyes.
"I've been taking a look around the city as we entered. But we're running late, so let's move."
IInside the military outpost, the group was briefed. They were led to a small building that smelled of damp stone and candle smoke. A lieutenant handed them instructions and explained their task.
"Two days ago, a supply unit vanished in No Man's Land. We lost contact after leaving the outer borders of the Southern Kingdom. Finding and retrieving their cargo is your top priority. Look for survivors if you can," he added. His eyes swept over each of them as he added, "Be cautious. No Man's Land is… unforgiving."
Elaine frowned. "Cargo? What exactly were they carrying?"
"Provisions. That's all you need to know."
Balin's jaw tightened. "And why send students like us?"
He didn't answer and started pointing his finger upwards. Poor Hector started staring at the ceiling, utterly confused, unsure what he was even looking at. But…
Balin realized the lieutenant meant that the orders came from above.
Dawn arrived, gray and heavy, rain blurring the edges of the city walls as Balin's team crossed the threshold into the wastelands. A jagged stretch of forgotten war ruins, twisted terrain and wild forests where nothing was ordinary. Mud clung to their boots and mist shrouded everything as far as they could see.
"Stay close," Balin whispered steadily. "No Man's Land doesn't forgive mistakes."
The group pressed forward, the air thick with fog and decay. For hours, silence reigned... no birds, no animals, only the occasional drip of rain from twisted branches. Then, movement… smaller beasts lunged from the fog, twisted wolf-like creatures with glinting teeth and spines along their backs.
Lira blinked sideways, phasing out of one's grasp, slicing cleanly with her twin blades. Kanee struck a massive blow, energy bursting from his fists with a crack that shook the mist. Ruben vanished into the shadows, reappearing behind another with a precise bolt. Elaine's arrows glimmered faintly, tracing weak points. Hector reflected a creature's surge, sending its own force back toward it.
Through it all, Balin moved like a predator dancing through the storm. His swords spoke in a dual language: one blade a question, the other the answer. He danced in the gaps between attacks with the uncanny sense that he owned the empty spaces around these creatures. His blindspot technique was more art than a trick, every strike came from angles that betrayed the very air itself. This resulted in creatures laying scattered and while dying, so the team pressed onward.
After hours of moving past a ridge and through a waterlogged clearing, they finally spotted the remnants of the supply unit. Wagons overturned, crates split open, provisions scattered across the mud. But the blood was still fresh... warm and smeared across the trees and ground.
"Looks like some large creature did this, not an enemy power," Lira whispered, crouching.
Balin's gaze swept over the scene. "Whatever did this… it's still hunting."
The crates were numerous. Hector and Elaine began gathering them together, careful not to open what they weren't allowed to touch, stacking the provisions as efficiently as possible.
Balin's jaw tightened. "We'll split up. I'll track this creature. You two secure the cargo, and the rest search for any remaining survivors."
They all nodded and did as instructed.
Balin moved swiftly, cutting through the mist and his eyes fixed on the hunt. Smaller twisted beasts emerged, drawn by his presence. He attacked them, each swing was precise, lethal and controlled. Like a dance of dual swords that was fluid and deadly. Every gap in the monsters' movement, every blind spot, Balin exploited. Yet the smell of fresh blood kept him tense, ears straining.
Then a strange sound pierced through the terrain. A high-frequency shriek, followed by distant screaming and an explosion that rattled the fog.
Balin sprinted toward it, boots sinking into the mud, his cloak heavy with clinging mist.
Then Balin slipped. His foot hit something slick, while his hand touched into something warm, wet and sticky. For a heartbeat, he froze...
It wasn't mud...
He landed in a pool of blood, where half of Ruben's body lay torn and mangled, blood running into the puddles. And as he looked up... an unspeakable and massive creature was standing in front of himm. With stitched-together flesh and black veins pulsating beneath its skin. Its white and milky eyes were locked on Balin. It held Lira in its jaws, barely alive.
Everything shifted for Balin as the world seemed to spin around him at that sight. He screamed...
But Balin's scream was no longer the controlled call of a commander...
It was a fracture...
He did the thing they would tell stories about in the making of a villain: he saw nothing but red before him...
• • • Sincerity… What does this big word really mean? Sincerity is keeping things hidden and preserving secrets. Always maintain silence, even if you know that this silence will ruin the world.
~ Loyalty is exactly like death. There is no room for negotiation. Cross the red line once and there's no turning back, no matter how much you whisper to her. But life pulls and goes, and what remains will never be sincere to you. Worse than that is when hopes remain beside a person's head. You give him promises, and sometimes you forget promises. And the one who is a traitor at heart will come to you one day, asking for loyalty. But sincerity is not given as charity is given. • • •
STORY NARRATOR