Chapter 10 — Kraft, the Forgotten Savior
The central square of Glayat lay buried beneath thick layers of snow.
Icy winds howled through the open space, carrying sharp shards of frost that stung the skin like needles. The flagstones beneath Lain's boots were glazed white, each step crunching softly as he advanced toward the heart of the square.
He pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders and lifted his gaze.
At the very center stood the statue of the Southern Hero.
Unlike the elegant bronze sculpture Lain had seen in Faber Village, this statue was carved entirely from rough black stone. Its lines were coarse and powerful, lacking ornamental beauty yet radiating an overwhelming sense of solidity.
The Southern Hero was depicted leaning forward, both hands gripping his sword, posture tense and aggressive—as if the next heartbeat would see him charge straight into battle.
Lain stopped before it.
The square was eerily quiet. In weather like this, even stray dogs had retreated into alleys and ruins. Only the wind remained, whispering across stone and snow.
He reached out and pressed his palm against the statue.
Cold seeped instantly into his skin.
Buzz—
A familiar vibration surged up his arm, racing through his nerves and straight into his mind.
> ["Southern Hero" statue detected.]
[Power resonance confirmed… Synchronization initiated.]
[Physical abilities enhanced.]
[Dual-wielding combat proficiency improved.]
[Future Sight stabilized and strengthened.]
[Current inheritance progress: 15%]
Lain slowly clenched his fist.
Crack.
The sound echoed faintly in the empty square.
The increase in strength wasn't explosive—it felt natural, like his body had always possessed this power and was merely reclaiming it. Where before his physique had been like tempered steel, now it felt denser, heavier, more complete.
And more importantly—
Something new had taken shape within him.
A subtle shift in perception. A clearer rhythm to movement. His awareness of timing, distance, and intent sharpened.
"Hah…"
A deep breath sounded nearby.
Lain turned his head.
On the opposite side of the statue stood a tall elf dressed in monk's robes, his posture relaxed as he gazed up at the stone hero. Snow clung to his shoulders and hair, yet he didn't seem bothered by the cold in the slightest.
Lain recognized him immediately.
Kraft.
A hero from the same ancient era as Serie—one whose name had long faded from history.
"Young man," Kraft said calmly, exhaling a cloud of white breath, "are you an admirer of this dual-sword warrior?"
"Something like that," Lain replied, withdrawing his hand from the statue.
"After all, he was the strongest hero."
"The strongest, huh…"
Kraft lowered his head slightly, fingers brushing the wooden pendant hanging at his chest. "May the Goddess grant him the praise he never received."
He paused, then glanced at Lain. "That said… I don't believe I caught your name."
"Lain."
"Kraft."
Their eyes met briefly.
"Are you here just to see the statue?" Lain asked.
"Just passing through," Kraft replied, brushing snow from his robe. "I was traveling with a little fellow who carries the title of First-Class Mage, but we parted ways once our routes split."
Kraft's gaze swept over Lain—his posture, breathing, and finally the twin swords at his waist.
"…You've got a solid presence about you."
Lain snorted lightly. "If by that you mean I stink, you're not wrong. I haven't bathed in days."
"Hah!" Kraft burst out laughing. "That's an answer I didn't expect."
He pointed toward a tavern at the edge of the square, its windows glowing warmly. "Say—how about a drink? It's cold enough to freeze my tongue, and I could use some company."
"My treat," Lain said after a moment's thought.
He had a feeling this monk, much like Heiter, was far from strict when it came to vows.
"Perfect," Kraft said cheerfully. "Because I'm completely broke."
---
The tavern doors creaked open, releasing a wave of warmth mixed with smoke, alcohol, and the low hum of voices.
Inside, adventurers and soldiers crowded wooden tables. A roaring fireplace painted the walls in flickering orange light.
Lain and Kraft settled into a corner, ordering hot mead and a platter of roasted meat.
"You crossed the southern forest alone?" Kraft asked after taking a deep gulp. "That place hasn't been peaceful lately. Word is a powerful demon's been roaming around."
"Lucky for everyone," Lain said calmly, tearing off a piece of meat. "It's already been dealt with."
Kraft froze mid-motion.
"…Dealt with?"
"Mm."
"…Interesting." Kraft laughed softly. "That explains it. No wonder your presence feels so grounded."
Before he could say more—
The tavern doors slammed open.
A hunter staggered inside, soaked in blood.
"Help—someone help!"
He collapsed at the counter, gasping. "Giant Lionboars… near the northern mines. My companions—"
The tavern fell deathly silent.
Giant Lionboars.
Monsters unique to the northern highlands. Massive, thick-skinned, and capable of leveling buildings when enraged.
"That thing again," the bartender muttered. "Third attack this week. The guild posted extermination requests days ago, but no one's brave enough."
Kraft popped the last bite of meat into his mouth and stood.
"Looks like I've got my post-meal exercise."
He turned to Lain. "Care to join? I could use some travel funds."
Lain set his mug down.
His newly strengthened abilities needed testing.
"Let's go."
---
Northern Outskirts — Abandoned Mines
The snowstorm outside the city was far worse.
Visibility barely stretched ten meters ahead. The ground was torn up with massive hoofprints and splattered with dark, frozen blood.
A thunderous roar echoed through the storm.
The earth shook.
From the white haze emerged a monstrous silhouette—two stories tall, crowned with a lion's mane yet bearing the massive body and tusks of a wild boar.
"So that's a Lionboar…" Lain muttered, standing atop a boulder.
"Move, Lain!" Kraft shouted.
Unarmed, the monk planted himself squarely in the beast's path.
The Lionboar lowered its head, tusks like siege spears.
Boom!
Kraft caught them barehanded.
The impact hurled him backward, carving deep trenches in the snow—but he held.
"Now!"
Kraft shouted.
No need for a reminder; Lain's figure had already vanished from the boulder.
He glided along the ground like a swift swallow.
Twin swords drawn.
Clang!
The blades formed a perfect cross in midair.
Shhh.
The sound of steel slicing flesh was drowned out by the wind.
The Lionboar let out a pained roar, thrashing its head to try and throw Kraft off.
"Down!"
Kraft's arms bulged with muscle. Using the Lionboar's momentum, he twisted, delivering a knee strike that smashed into its lower jaw.
Crack.
Bones shattered audibly.
The massive beast collapsed with a thunderous crash, sending snow flying in every direction.
Lain landed lightly nearby, shaking blood off his blades.
"Good coordination."
Kraft rubbed his wrist and kicked the Lionboar's body. "This pelt will fetch a pretty coin."
"Also, that last strike… very fast."
Kraft paused, nostalgia in his gaze. "Reminds me of my old self."
"You used a sword before?"
Lain leapt down, recalling the hero statue the stubborn old lady had made Freiren polish.
The statue depicted Kraft as a sword-wielding warrior.
"Mm."
Kraft didn't deny it.
"Lain, where are you going next?"
"North. Target town: Tour."
"Tour…"
Kraft pondered for a moment. "Perfect. I'm heading that way too. Plenty of monsters around here. Traveling alone is boring. What do you say—team up?"
"Couldn't ask for better."
"Then it's settled, haha."
Kraft laughed, hoisting the Lionboar. "Let's go claim our bounty."
The two of them walked side by side into the howling snowstorm.