Morning arrived quietly over the farm.
The snowstorm from the night before had finally passed. Outside the window, the world was buried in white. Fresh snow blanketed the fields as far as the eye could see beneath a pale, silent sky.
Vein stood by the window, his breath forming faint mist against the glass.
But his thoughts weren't on the snow.
They were somewhere else.
Sylva's voice echoed faintly in his mind.
Come travel with me.
Stay here.
Or leave.
His thoughts refused to settle.
Then—
the door opened.
"Morning."
Vein turned.
Kael stepped inside, already dressed in his coat. Snow clung lightly to his boots.
"You're awake early."
"Couldn't sleep."
Kael glanced out the window.
"…storm's over."
"Yeah."
Kael stretched his shoulders, then turned toward the door again.
"I'm going for a walk."
Vein raised an eyebrow.
"…seriously?"
"Why not?"
"It's freezing."
Kael smirked faintly.
"I've dealt with worse."
He stepped outside. Cold air rushed briefly into the room before the door shut behind him.
Silence returned.
Vein's gaze drifted back to the bag.
Stay.
Or leave.
Then—
KNOCK.
A sharp sound echoed through the room.
Vein frowned.
"…already?"
He walked over and opened the door.
"Did you forget something, Ka—"
He stopped.
Five men stood outside.
All wearing knight armor.
Snow clung to their shoulders, their cloaks shifting slightly in the cold wind.
One of them stepped forward, his sharp gaze moving past Vein.
"…Kael."
"So he is here."
Vein's expression hardened.
"…who are you?"
The knight ignored him.
"Where is Kael?"
"I asked first."
The air tightened.
Then—
they moved.
Fast.
Before Vein could react, two knights grabbed him. One twisted his arm behind his back while the other slammed him forward.
THUD—
His body hit the wooden floor.
A knee pressed into his back. His arm was forced down.
A blade touched his throat.
Cold.
Sharp.
"Don't move," the knight said calmly. "Or your head comes off."
Silence filled the room.
Only the wind outside could be heard.
—
The other knights spread through the farmhouse, boots echoing across the floor as they searched.
Doors opened. Furniture shifted.
"KAEL!" one shouted. "WHERE ARE YOU?!"
No answer came.
No footsteps.
Nothing.
Meanwhile, Vein remained pinned to the floor.
But their attention had shifted.
That was enough.
He inhaled.
Mana gathered instantly.
Light burst from his hand.
FLASH—
A blinding surge filled the room.
"GH—!"
"MY EYES!"
Their grip loosened.
Vein moved.
He twisted, rolled, and grabbed the nearest weapon.
SHING—
A sword slid free.
He rose in one motion, blade pointed forward.
"Leave."
His voice was calm.
Cold.
The knights blinked, still recovering.
"…you're threatening us?" one said.
"If you don't leave," Vein replied, "I'll make you."
A knight stepped forward, slow and arrogant.
"…and if we don't?"
Vein answered.
By moving.
Mana surged through his arm.
Earth mana wrapped around the blade, making it heavier. Denser.
Stronger.
His muscles tightened as buff magic surged through him.
Then—
SLASH—
The strike landed before the knight could react.
BOOM—
The sound shook the room.
The knight's armor shattered.
The breastplate cracked apart like brittle stone, fragments exploding outward as his body was thrown into the wall.
He collapsed.
Unmoving.
Silence.
The remaining knights froze.
"…what?"
Vein lowered the blade slightly.
One arm.
That was all he needed.
Then—
SHING.
The others drew their weapons.
The air turned heavy.
The next battle was about to begin.
—
"Stop."
The voice cut through everything.
Calm.
Sharp.
Absolute.
Everyone froze.
Vein turned.
Kael stood in the doorway, snow dusting his shoulders, cold wind moving behind him.
His eyes moved across the knights.
Cold.
"What," he said quietly, "were you not taught basic manners?"
The knights stiffened.
Immediately, their swords lowered.
One by one, they sheathed their weapons.
Kael walked in, his boots echoing softly. He stepped beside Vein, took the sword from his hand without a word, and calmly returned it to its owner.
Then he crossed his arms.
"…so."
"What are you doing here?"
One knight stepped forward and reached into his cloak.
"There is a letter. From the capital, Aurelion. It's for you."
Kael took it.
The red wax seal stood out clearly.
Silence filled the room as he broke it and read.
His expression shifted.
Serious.
Focused.
Then—
slightly surprised.
When he finished, he folded the letter.
"…I see."
He looked at them.
"I'll meet you tomorrow."
The knight nodded.
"Understood, Commander Kael. We will wait for you in Stoneguard City."
Kael gave a short nod.
The knights turned.
Two lifted the unconscious one Vein had defeated and carried him out.
Their footsteps faded into the snowy morning.
The door closed.
Silence returned.
—
Vein stood still, processing.
Royal knights.
A letter from the capital.
Kael's reaction.
Something was wrong.
Kael remained near the table, the letter still in his hand.
For a moment, he just stared at it.
"…Kael," Vein said. "What was that about?"
Kael exhaled slowly and tucked the letter into his coat.
"…things just got complicated."
"That doesn't explain anything."
"I know."
He walked toward the door.
"Vein."
"Hm?"
"I need you to go into town."
"…why?"
Kael looked back at him.
"Find Sylva."
"Tell her to come here."
Vein frowned.
"…Sylva?"
Kael nodded.
"She needs to hear this too."
"…what's going on?"
Kael opened the door. Cold air rushed in again.
"I'll explain when everyone's here."
He stepped outside.
"I'm going to find Johan."
He paused briefly.
"This is important."
The wind howled across the snow-covered farmland.
And Vein suddenly understood—
the quiet days they had just begun to enjoy
were already coming to an end.
—
The farmhouse fell quiet once more.
Outside, snow drifted endlessly from the pale sky, blanketing the fields in a soft, unbroken white. Inside, the fire crackled low, its warmth unable to chase away the tension settling in the room.
Everyone was there.
Johan stood by the table, one hand resting lightly against its edge.
Kael stood beside him, posture straight, presence heavier than usual.
Sylva leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching in silence.
And Vein stood a few steps away, the unease in his chest refusing to fade.
Rosa was still asleep in the other room.
Elna… was still in Velmora.
For a while, no one spoke.
The silence stretched—thin, tight, suffocating.
Then Johan exhaled quietly.
"…so."
His gaze lifted, settling directly on Kael.
"What is it that you want to tell us?"
Kael didn't answer.
Not immediately.
The usual ease in his expression was gone. No trace of that careless, half-lazy man remained. What stood before them now was something else entirely—
Sharper.
Colder.
The Kael who belonged on the battlefield.
Without a word, he reached into his coat and pulled out a folded letter. The motion was simple, but deliberate.
He tossed it.
Johan caught it effortlessly.
The red wax seal had already been broken.
Silence settled again as Johan unfolded the paper.
His eyes moved across the lines.
Slowly.
Carefully.
At first, his expression didn't change.
Then—almost imperceptibly—it shifted.
His brows drew together.
His jaw tightened.
And then his eyes widened.
"…this…"
The word slipped out under his breath.
His grip on the letter tightened.
"…this is impossible."
The room seemed to hold its breath.
Johan lowered the paper slightly, staring ahead as if the words refused to make sense, as if they didn't belong in reality.
Then, without another word, he extended the letter toward Sylva.
"…read it."
Sylva took it.
Her eyes moved quickly, scanning the contents with sharp focus. No wasted motion. No hesitation.
Vein stepped closer, drawn in without realizing it.
"…can I?"
Sylva didn't answer.
But she didn't pull the letter away either.
That was enough.
Vein moved to her side—
And read.
—
By Order of the Royal Military Command of Aurelion
To: Commander Kael Arden
Royal Knight of the Southern Division
Effective immediately, you are to cease your current mission and return to active duty.
Your presence is required in the Southern Region of Aurelion. You are hereby reassigned to defensive command operations.
Intelligence gathered from our covert network confirms that the entity known as the Seven Deadly Sins has begun mobilizing once more.
Their current objective has been identified:
The Southern and Northern Territories of Aurelion.
Should they succeed, the kingdom will lose control of its outer defenses.
Reinforcements are already being deployed to your location. You are expected to prepare immediately and assume command upon arrival.
Failure to respond will not be considered an option.
We trust in your ability to fulfill this duty.
Do not die.
—
High Marshal of the Four Winds
Lucius Greyhound
—
By the time he reached the end, something in the room had shifted.
No one moved. Even Sylva's breathing seemed to slow.
Colder than the snow outside.
"…Seven Deadly Sins…" Vein muttered.
The name no longer sounded like a distant legend.
It felt close.
Real.
Dangerous.
"One of them was Velmorth," he continued, quieter now. "Greed…"
His fingers curled slightly at his side.
"…what are they planning?"
Johan let out a slow breath, his gaze lowering for a moment.
"If they're moving," he said, "then this isn't random."
His eyes hardened.
""They never move without purpose… not after what they did to this country.""
Kael gave a small nod.
"I don't know their full plan," he admitted. "But they wouldn't make a move without reason."
The fire cracked softly, the sound sharp against the silence.
Johan folded his arms, his expression growing more severe.
"…then who do you think will move in the north?"
Kael paused, considering.
"They're unpredictable," he said. "But as far as I know… five of them are still active."
Vein looked up.
"Five?"
Kael met his gaze.
"Pride. Greed. Sloth. Wrath. And Lust."
Each name settled into the room like a weight.
Vein's eyes narrowed.
"…Greed."
He looked between them.
"That's Velmorth, right?"
"Yes," Kael answered calmly. "That is Velmorth."
Vein frowned, unease tightening in his chest.
"…but we killed her."
The words came out uncertain.
As if even he didn't fully believe them.
He glanced at Johan.
"…right?"
Johan said nothing.
That silence said enough.
Something twisted inside Vein.
Kael's gaze shifted toward him.
"…are you certain?" he asked.
Vein straightened slightly.
"I saw it," he said. "Her body was split in two. Mr. Johan cut her down. There's no way she survived that."
Kael watched him for a moment.
"…when did this happen?"
Vein hesitated.
"…a while ago. When I first arrived in Velmora."
He didn't want to remember it.
That place.
That feeling.
Kael gave a faint nod, as if confirming something internally.
"Then it wasn't her," he said.
The words were quiet.
But they struck harder than anything else.
"…what?" Vein asked.
"Not the real one."
Vein's chest tightened.
"…what do you mean?"
Kael held his gaze.
"Because I've killed Velmorth before."
The words didn't make sense.
Or maybe they did—
and that was exactly the problem.
Everything stilled.
Even the fire seemed to dim.
"…what?" Vein whispered.
Kael continued, his tone unchanged.
"Before I came to Velmora."
A brief pause followed.
"And it happened… after you two left to gather mana flowers."
His eyes shifted slightly, recalling the memory.
"That was when I killed her."
Vein froze.
The timing.
The place.
Everything aligned too perfectly.
"…then…" his voice dropped, "…if she's still alive…"
His thoughts didn't stop.
They spiraled.
Something cold spread through his chest—not fear, but realization.
His hand slowly clenched.
"…then Velmorth is still out there."
No one corrected him.
No one denied it.
Because they all understood.
What they had faced before—
was never the end.
And whatever came next—
would be far worse.
—
Kael let out a slow breath, his gaze dipping for a moment before settling into something firmer.
"…I just hope," he said quietly, "that I don't run into him in the southern war."
Johan glanced at him.
"…him?"
Kael met his eyes.
"…Pride."
The name lingered.
Heavier than the rest.
"He's the strongest among them," Kael continued. "If he moves personally… this won't be a battle anymore."
No one asked him to explain.
They already understood.
Sylva, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke.
"…how strong are they, really?"
Her tone was steady, but there was tension beneath it.
"I've only heard fragments," she added. "That they nearly brought Aurelion to ruin… but that was years ago."
Her eyes shifted toward Kael.
"…was it truly that severe?"
Kael didn't hesitate.
"They can use third-tier magic."
The answer was simple.
Its weight was not.
Sylva's expression tightened ever so slightly before she fell silent again.
That alone said enough.
Third-tier magic.
A level where individuals no longer fought as soldiers—
but as calamities.
The fire flickered, casting faint shadows along the walls.
Kael stepped forward, his gaze moving across the three of them.
"…that's why I want you to come with me tomorrow."
A brief pause.
"To the front line."
Vein stiffened.
"…the front line?"
The words felt unfamiliar in his mouth.
"You mean… war?"
"Yes."
Kael's reply came without hesitation.
No hesitation.
No reassurance.
Vein's breath caught.
For a brief moment, the room seemed to grow distant—like the sound around him had been pulled away, leaving only that single word echoing in his head.
War.
His fingers trembled slightly at his side.
He had never stood on a battlefield.
Never heard steel collide.
Never watched someone die just to keep breathing.
But he knew.
War wasn't like a duel.
It wasn't something you could prepare for with practice or skill alone.
It was chaos.
Blood.
Screams.
A place where people disappeared without even leaving behind a name.
His chest tightened.
The memory of Velmorth flashed through his mind—
that suffocating fear, that overwhelming presence that had nearly crushed him.
And that…
was just one enemy.
His hand clenched slowly.
"…war…" he repeated under his breath, the word feeling heavier the second time.
Somewhere deep inside—
fear had already begun to take root.
"I won't underestimate any of you," he said.
His attention shifted first to Johan.
"Mr. Johan. A veteran. A Supreme War Commander."
Then to Sylva.
"Sylva. A second-tier mage from the Sanctum of the Three Arts."
Finally, his eyes settled on Vein.
"And you…"
He paused briefly.
"…you are my student."
Nothing grand.
Nothing dramatic.
Yet the weight behind those words was unmistakable.
Vein said nothing.
He couldn't.
Kael folded his arms.
"I'm not forcing you," he continued. "If you choose not to come, I won't stop you."
His gaze remained steady.
"I'll wait for your answer tomorrow."
Johan's fingers tapped against the table—then stopped.
The soft crackle of the fire the only sound that remained.
"…that's all."
Kael turned.
He walked to the door and pulled it open. Cold air slipped into the room, carrying with it drifting snow and the pale silence of the fields beyond.
"I have something to take care of."
And then—
he left.
The door shut behind him with a soft thud.
The room didn't feel the same anymore.
The warmth remained.
But the stillness had changed.
Heavier.
Sharper.
Because now—
this wasn't just about what was coming.
It was about what they would choose to face.