Night settled slowly at the edge of Oldreach.
The campfire burned low—just enough to keep the cold away, not enough to invite attention. Wind slipped through the ancient trees, carrying the smell of damp earth and dead leaves. In this forest, sound never returned the way it should. It was as if Oldreach swallowed it first… then decided what, if anything, to give back.
Kael stood facing the twelve people before him.
"It's time," he said.
No one moved.
"We received a report three days ago," Kael continued, his voice calm, weighted.
"Several guard units sent to assess Oldreach… never returned."
Bram raised an eyebrow.
"No signal?"
"None," Sereth replied.
"Their tracks stop. Not hidden. Just… gone."
Silence fell.
"That's not an animal," Ivo muttered.
"And this isn't normal ground," Kael added.
"Oldreach isn't a hunting forest. It's old territory. From the older world."
He looked at each of them in turn.
"We go in tomorrow morning. We confirm what happened. We confirm the scale."
"After that, we leave."
He paused.
"This isn't a long mission," he said.
"But it isn't a light one either."
No one argued.
When Kael chose to step in, it meant something couldn't be ignored.
Behind the trees, two smaller figures crouched in silence.
"They're entering Oldreach," Eiran whispered.
Ruen nodded.
"This isn't training."
Eiran smiled faintly.
"Good."
Ruen glanced at him.
"You're sick."
"Maybe," Eiran said.
"But I'm still breathing."
Morning came wrapped in thin fog.
Training that day felt different.
No long jokes. No looseness.
Kael showed them how to stand—not beautifully, but in a way that didn't get you killed.
"Don't be fast," he said.
"Arrive first."
Sereth taught them how to evade.
Not by jumping—but by not being there in the first place.
Bram trained them with axe and sword.
"When you're cornered," he said with a grin,
"forget style. Stay alive."
Lys taught Eye Focus—how to see intent a fraction of a second before movement.
"Don't watch the hands," she said.
"Watch the decision."
Cale taught throwing.
"One clean throw," he said,
"beats ten desperate ones."
No one said this was the final training.
But everyone trained as if tomorrow wasn't guaranteed.
The session ended later than usual.
"Close your eyes," Sereth said suddenly.
Eiran hesitated—then obeyed.
"Now," Lys said softly,
"don't listen to us. Listen to everything else."
At first, there was nothing.
Then—
A quiet pressure in his chest.
The wind felt heavier.
The ground beneath his feet felt… awake.
"Feel it," Sereth said.
"Not with thought. With presence."
Eiran opened his eyes, breathing hard.
"This is… strange."
Bram chuckled.
"Welcome."
Kael watched in silence.
When the others drifted away, Eiran approached him.
"Why," he asked carefully,
"don't you ever use Vire?"
Kael didn't answer right away.
"I can't," he said at last.
"I'm blind to it."
Eiran froze.
"But… you're a knight."
"A knight doesn't always mean a Vire user."
Kael looked at his own hands.
"My teacher taught me how to survive without relying on what I didn't have."
"He must've been incredible," Eiran said quietly.
Kael smiled—just a little.
"He was stubborn."
"Sounds familiar," Eiran muttered.
"Oy."
Bram's voice cut in.
"Don't get the wrong idea, kid," he said casually.
"He doesn't use Vire."
"Then what does he use?" Eiran asked.
Bram tapped his chest, hard.
"Vitalist."
The word landed heavy.
Ruen stiffened.
"An old technique," Bram continued.
"One people hate."
"Force the heart to beat faster. Push life energy beyond its safe flow."
"Three—sometimes four times stronger than a normal man," Sereth added.
"That's… equal to Vire?" Eiran whispered.
"If the body holds," Sereth said.
Lys murmured, barely audible,
"He doesn't use Vire… yet he could defeat all of us."
The vice-captain nodded.
"We're all Vire users. And we still follow him."
Ruen clenched his fists.
Awe—and fear—mixed in his chest.
"Vitalist takes its price," Bram said.
"And he still chose it."
Then he grinned at Kael.
"You've become an idol to the kids."
Kael sighed.
"Stop talking."
"Too late," Bram said.
"Already happened."
Eiran and Ruen exchanged a glance.
Something stirred inside them.
Not power.
But the desire to stand where he stood.
As the unit prepared to move, Eiran stepped forward.
"I'm coming."
"No."
"I can help."
"No."
"Ask Helder," Kael said.
"If he allows it, you can come."
They all knew the answer.
At the bar, Helder refused without hesitation.
Eiran nodded.
"Alright."
He left without another word.
No one saw him take the old dagger.
No one saw him slip it beneath his cloak.
No one saw him take bread for the road.
Helder paused mid-wipe.
"The dagger's gone," he said.
Mara smiled faintly.
"Wouldn't be Eiran otherwise."
"At least," Helder said quietly,
"it was meant for him."
"Left with us," he added.
"Not to be kept forever."
Beyond Loxra's walls, Eiran ran.
Oldreach stretched before him—
an ancient forest, a remnant of the older world, untouched by maps or permission.
He didn't look back.
Because Eiran knew—
if he stopped now,
he might never walk forward again.
And without them realizing it,
something within the forest… was already waiting.