The gust of wind blowing through the village nearly extinguished the campfire beside Sora, forcing him to rise from his seat. The calm before the storm broke with the thundering sound of dozens of moving horse hooves rumbling from behind the dark hills, the sound growing louder, the steps heavier, like the long-delayed beat of war drums.

  From the farthest side of the village, at the entrance, Vael heard something in the distance as silence enveloped the entire village. "They will be here shortly." Arelan, having drawn his twin axes from his back, stepped beside Vael with strong determination. "Too soon for them to head here, or perhaps the right time to prove it to them." "I don't know, we should fall back and gather with Sora right now," Vael said to Arelan, who had also drawn his sword. "Better to fight together than to fight alone." Arelan responded to Vael's words, and they both agreed to move to gather with Sora in behind them.

  Kaelith emerged from the line of trees, her sharp eyes observing several shadows moving towards the village, her bow already prepared as she took a position on the high scaffolding of an old barn in the village, facing the main street from where she could see everything, including Sora who had drawn his sword, and Vael and Arelan who were about to gather with him. "Hey, let's end this quickly before it gets worse." Namien appeared last, his hands glowing faintly with the clear flow of his magic along his gloves. He smirked at no one in particular and whispered to the wind, "This seems very tiring, i guess."

  From the village entrance, the mercenaries arrived with dozens of horses, storming into the village with their shouts filling the entire place. A wave of mercenaries in black armor, numbering at least thirty, now stormed the village like starving wolves, their leader behind the front troops, flanked by his chosen elite whose armor was more intimidating than those in front. The screams of horses mixed with their war cries, and dust billowed around them. Sora, Vael, and Arelan stood like unshakeable guards on the path, waiting for them to come within range.

  Then Namien's whispering chant was heard, turning the ground into mud that sucked their horses into it. Several horses at the front suddenly sank, their riders thrown from their saddles, their screams erupting as the thick, enchanted mud gripped their limbs and dragged them down like a curse. The front wave faltered, dampened in the midst of their attack. Kaelith's first arrow shot through the chaos straight into the throat of a mercenary who had survived Namien's magic, knocking him from his horse. Sora moved like lightning, darting among the riders moving towards him, beginning to slash his sword with precise precision, its blade shining in the flickering torchlight. Beside him, Vael swung his newly drawn sword brutally, and Arelan's axes danced in wide arcs, cutting through steel and bone before them. Above them, Kaelith released arrows from her position, each shot with quiet fury, attacking the mercenary cavalry or infantry swiftly, never missing, and always calculated. Namien's voice came from behind them; sitting on an empty barrel, he cast magic on the battlefield, igniting flames and sealing the eastern alley to cut off the cavalry flank attempting to attack from the side.

  The villagers, who once trembled in fear when The Gallows Sun mercenaries came, now stood silently in their hiding places, watching the five fight through the cracks in their dwellings. No one ever thought those strangers would become their saviors. As the mercenaries' attack failed and casualties mounted, their leader immediately gave a signal to his remaining troops that he himself would enter the fight, his black armor forming curved carvings with sharp gold lines, seemingly intended to intimidate by its appearance alone. His face showed no fear, only contempt for the five. The leader moved on his white horse, and his four chosen elites stepped forward behind him to surround the five in a perfect formation. Their weapons were drawn to attack, breaking through the fire Namien had created earlier.

  The mercenary leader observed the battlefield, now filled with his fallen and dying subordinates. His jaw clenched tightly, and anger began to blaze in his eyes. "How pathetic. So the villagers hired a group of heroes to fight us again, apparently." He grumbled in frustration and stepped forward, his target already set on Sora who was still fighting. "I will handle that boy with myself."

  From the rooftop, Lyra observed, unseen by friend or foe. Her eyes narrowed, focused not on the mercenary leader, but on Sora, who fought without regard for the attacks he received, felling opponents whether mounted or charging on foot. Lyra, continuing to watch Sora, began to think about what Namien had told her and whispered to herself. "I know I shouldn't be here with these plunderers, and I understand what that mage meant now."

  Below, Sora saw the mercenary leader closing in, attacking by kicking Sora from his horse, sending him sprawling. He quickly got back up to face the laughter of the greedy and arrogant leader. The wind that had been blowing suddenly died down, and the battlefield held its breath for a moment after the mercenary leader dismounted to face Sora alone with his strength. However, Sora felt a strange movement as the wind roared again with chaotic currents, not a storm this time, but a clash between the mercenary leader's power flaring within the wind. The mercenary commander stood tall, a contemptuous smirk radiating from his face. "Alright, boy, will you attack first, or are you waiting for your mother's permission before attacking me?" Sora was not provoked by his words and tried not to move, preparing his stance to wait for the arrogant leader's attack. Sora did not look away from the mercenary leader until, within him, the rune began to ignite, sourced not from his anger but from his determination. The air around Sora felt dense as his rune activated, emitting a red interspersed with white that enveloped his entire body and flowed into his sword blade, judging the leader's actions and words. Sora's eyes reflected a fire that was not wild like before, but stable and controlled, indicating that he was able to control his power.

  The mercenary leader, seeing Sora activate his rune, initially laughed, then stopped to wipe away tears of amusement. "Hmm... so you're one of those with ancient power too, huh? But still, your power is just a burning fire that can't defeat a raging storm wind," the leader murmured, preparing his stance and his curved sword. A powerful whistling sound exploded from the leader's feet as he also activated his own rune's power, a blackish-green energy that spun continuously like a fierce cyclone. Dark wind coiled around his body, lifting small pebbles and dust into a vortex at his feet. The rune flowing throughout his body pulsed, following the rhythm of a forgotten wind, ancient and ravaged by time. Then, once they had both activated their runes, they moved to engage in their duel with incredibly fast movements, disappearing from view. Only the sound of their swords meeting in the air in swift flashes and echoing clashes indicated that neither could be easily defeated. The sound of steel clashing against steel cracked like thunder in their duel.

  From the roof, Lyra watched their duel from the shadows, her eyes unable to follow their rapid movements, catching only glimpses of the raging dance of fire and storm. 'What is this? The boy's movements… are unlike others. Controlled and calculated, but that fire… it reacts to his emotions, not from magic, but from something else,' Lyra thought, trying to observe without distraction. Sora wasn't using it to master his rune's power; rather, he was using it to restrain his hidden desires, choosing not to kill anyone with that power.

  Meanwhile, Vael and Arelan stood back-to-back, blood starting to flow from the wounds they received, sparks flying with every clash of their blades against the four chosen elite guards of the mercenary leader. “They fight like machines!” Arelan shouted, parrying a brutal attack from another double-axe wielder. Vael tried to launch an attack on one of the guards holding a spear, but his attack was parried. The guard spun for a counter-attack, forcing Vael to dodge backward. “We just have to break them like machines too. Find their weak point!” Vael told Arelan. “Easier said than done!” Arelan shouted back at Vael, who was trying to find an opening in his defensive stance. The elite mercenary guards attacked swiftly in a tight formation, giving Vael and Arelan no openings. However, Vael's sword blade sang with every clash, echoing the rhythm of Borreal's war hymn, and Arelan began to roar wildly like a storm, his axes attacking and defending against the elite guards relentlessly like iron wheels.

  Above them, Kaelith released the last shot from her quiver, sending the arrow into the eye socket of a shield-bearer who had almost struck Arelan from behind. She let out a sharp breath, sweat soaking her forehead. Then, Kaelith sensed something behind her and looked back into the distant fields. Ten mercenaries appeared from behind, carrying torches and buckets filled with kerosene, the smell reaching Kaelith. Kaelith drew a breath, saw her quiver was empty, and shouted to the others. “Watch out, ten approaching from—!” Before the ambushers reached the back of the village, the ground beneath them suddenly ignited. A series of oil trails sparked, and the oil-soaked earth burned fiercely, incinerating the ten men without a trace. Their screams were clear, the fire raged, and the chaos was calculated by someone who had prepared it. Namien calmly sat on a water barrel, blowing on a small flame on his fingertip like a candle. “I’ve said it many times, close the back door before leaving,” he muttered, watching the ten men slowly fall to the ground while burning. Kaelith watched the event from her high position, her eyes wide. ‘He set a trap… without telling us? Of course he did. Because he’s Namien,’ Kaelith thought, exhaling in relief while smiling faintly at Namien’s antics.

  Back in the center of the village, the duel between Sora and the mercenary leader had escalated into a fiercer level, with sparks flying and the wind blowing strongly like sharp blades. Fire and wind collided, sending gusts mixed with flames throughout the village, slowly consuming the area of their duel, forcing villagers whose homes were now engulfed in flames to flee. The mercenary leader ducked low as Sora attacked and launched a counter-attack, slashing at Sora's ribs, but Sora's rune, still burning, instantly repelled the leader's attack. Sora retaliated when he found an opening, swinging his sword upwards, its blade humming with the red and white fire of his rune, nearly slashing the leader who managed to dodge. The leader staggered back, still laughing at Sora, his emotions now uncontrollable. "Who taught you how to fight, boy?" the leader said, spitting blood mixed with saliva. "You fight like someone who's died before," he added, preparing his stance. Sora did not respond to his statement and raised his blade again to prepare his next attack.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  From the shadows, Lyra whispered to herself while observing their fight from above: "I've seen killers so sadistic, and I've seen plunderers greedily snatch everything, even lives. But I see you are so different from the others, someone bearing the burden of what happened from both," Fire danced on Sora's sword, and their fight had just begun its next, deadlier round. The rhythm of their duel had become its own music: the arrogant versus the silent, wind versus fire, and precision versus instinct. The clash of their swords echoed their intentions. Every thrust they launched at each other was parried by the other. The mercenary leader fought like an uncontrolled storm, his rune surging around his legs, increasing his speed until his figure became much faster than before.

  Every slash was aimed at breaking Sora's defense, and every attack carried the will of a killer. But Sora did not waver under the leader's barrage of attacks; instead, Sora flowed like water, avoiding his attacks with calm, his blade dancing with controlled precision, finding every gap in the leader's assault. Then Sora saw the weak point that could end their duel amidst the raging storm of fire. A hesitation, an unstable movement in the leader's free left wrist. Sora stepped forward and launched his counter-attack with a flash of his fire-enveloped blade, hitting the leader squarely on the side and knocking him backward. The leader stumbled, his body hitting the ground, and began to groan, spitting out a lot of blood from his mouth. "You little brat—" he started to curse, but Sora gave him no time to finish his words, slashing his sword at the area of his still-active rune to stop its flow.

  The mercenary leader roared once more in pain from Sora's slash and tried to activate the rune on his legs again. His movement speed doubled with each step, the gusts of wind becoming fiercer than a storm, and his every attack was invisible to the eye. But Sora stood firm in the midst of it as the leader circled him and attacked using his wind. Sora did not chase the mercenary leader who had risen; instead, Sora waited for the right moment to attack him, even though he received cuts on parts of his face and hands.

  Until the moment Sora successfully guessed the direction of the leader's attack and caught his sword slash mid-swing with his bare hands, Sora held him with both hands, and now they were locked, staring at each other again. In that breath, Sora launched an attack while locking their hands by headbutting him as hard as possible, and when the leader flinched, Sora delivered a fierce, burning punch directly to the leader's chest plate. The mercenary leader's armor shattered like glass, and the rune all over his body dimmed until its effects disappeared. The force sent him flying backward, and the leader landed with a heavy thud, rolling before he stared up at the night sky amidst the burning firelight around him.

  The mercenary leader coughed up blood, gasping from the attack he received, blood dripping from his mouth and his wounds. "You... you could have killed me... right now," he said, trying to control his uncontrollable breathing. Sora did not answer his statement, and the leader continued his words. "I surrender, please, spare my life and have mercy on me" The commander grumbled, raising his hand with difficulty, until that moment was abruptly halted when a shadow moved from the roof of a villager's house with nearly silent steps.

  Measured breaths and eyes that saw everything. Lyra Vesperia stepped out of the darkness, her boots barely making a sound as she stepped onto the ground and slowly approached the two men. The leader saw Lyra coming and thought she would save his life, starting to laugh uncontrollably, blood spurting from his mouth. "Hah... see? You might be able to defeat me, boy. But her? No one can win against her" The leader laughed casually, still lying on the ground looking at Lyra, preparing to boast.

  However, Lyra moved unexpectedly, striking the back of her leader's neck with her gloved hand, making his eyes roll back as he fell unconscious. Sora instinctively rose, his sword half-raised, the red and white fire reigniting in his palm. However, Lyra quickly raised both hands in a gesture of surrender before Sora, her expression calm as she said to him, her tone colder than the night. "He's unconscious. Nothing more" Hearing this, Sora stopped instantly and lowered his guard to observe her. His rune was still active, but stable and controlled. "I didn't interfere to protect him. I watched you fight him from the start until now. I wanted to see if you would do the same as he did, but you didn't" She continued, stepping past the unconscious mercenary leader.

  The rune around Sora's body slowly dimmed until he lowered his sword that was pointing at Lyra. The firelight of his rune faded from the blade it had enveloped, and his breathing became slow and more controlled now. "You have impressed me with your actions today, more than I thought," Lyra said, a faint smile touching the corner of her lips, and after that, Lyra turned to walk back towards the dark horizon. "Your next step... is Jargmund, a kingdom ruled by a tyrant with blood on his throne and chains around his own people's necks. I want to meet you again there as the one who frees those shackles from the tyrant who has ruled for decades" She said over her shoulder, stopping right at the edge of the shadows, her silhouette framed in the moonlight. "If we met in Jargmund, you will find and seek me within it after you see the condition of the kingdom and its people, and perhaps, only two people bear the pain in silence when seeing such things reflected in their minds" Lyra added, her tone then softening, as if she wasn't even speaking to Sora, then she disappeared from his sight.

  The wind whispered where Sora stood, but Lyra's words left no trace in his mind. Sora stood silent for a moment, his sword sheathed back into its scabbard, the night air blowing gently around him along with the flames enveloping the area. Kaelith approached from the shadows of the village alley, her eyes filled with questions. Meanwhile, Vael and Arelan stood where they had finished off all the elite guards on the outskirts of the village, their weapons still drawn and bloodstained. Namien leaned casually against the remains of a partially destroyed fence, his arm cushioning his head, his eyes gazing at the starry night sky.

  Only one question echoed in Sora's mind: ‘How did she know about me just from watching my fight?’ and perhaps more importantly, ‘Since when has she been watching me all this time?’ The gust of wind had subsided, but the storm within Sora was not yet over. He stood motionless beside the unconscious mercenary leader, staring into the empty space where Lyra had disappeared. His sword, now sheathed, still felt warm from the previous fight. His mind was not on the battle, but chasing questions that refused to be silenced, and Lyra had told him the next destination. ‘Who is she really? How does she know about me? When did she find out? And why does it feel like she's been watching longer than I knew?’

  His brow furrowed and his lips were tightly shut. The fire behind his eyes was not anger, but this time confusion and a strange attention Sora couldn't name. Footsteps echoed from behind him, and Kaelith approached Sora, passing through scattered ash and blood-soaked ground. Kaelith stopped beside him, her voice low but clear. "You just defeated that arrogant leader, but you look like someone who lost the duel. What's with that thick face of yours?" Kaelith asked, looking at Sora who was still silent with a confused expression until he heard her words and glanced at her, surprised by her presence which he hadn't felt. Kaelith almost laughed when she saw his surprised expression. "You're always like that, giving everything you have and then standing there as if your burden is still on your shoulders" Kaelith added, her voice softer this time. Sora didn't answer her statement, but the way his eyes searched the darkness was enough to tell her. Kaelith followed his gaze and briefly glanced at the empty space where Lyra had disappeared from Sora's sight earlier.

  Then Kaelith exhaled slowly and folded her arms. "So, this is about that hooded woman?" Hearing that, Sora immediately looked at Kaelith, surprised again. Kaelith raised her eyebrows seeing Sora surprised twice. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice how you tensed up when she approached you before?" Kaelith added, teasing Sora, but her expression showed a slight jealousy towards her. Before Sora could react to Kaelith's words, the sound of footsteps echoed again not far from them.

  Vael and Arelan, covered in blood, watched from the other side of the square, observing Sora and Kaelith talking. Vael's lips curved into a small smile as he saw the two. Arelan, noticing Vael's face, looked surprised and said to Vael as he shifted his gaze to the two, "They are very close. Vael, would you guess they are comrades or something like that?" Vael chuckled softly hearing that from Arelan. Suddenly, Namien's voice broke the mood like an arrow wrapped in silk. "Comrades who fight with weapon and heart more precisely, dancing between fire and shadow under the moonlight art scene. Ah, the language of love in bloodshed" Namien walked casually between the two Borreal knights, arms folded behind his head and a meaningful grin on his face. Vael burst out laughing, while Arelan could only stare at Namien unimpressed, though Arelan understood his meaning.

  The group was now fully gathered, and they looked at the arrogant leader still unconscious and lying on the ground like discarded armor. Kaelith gently kicked the leader with her boot. "So... what now? Tie him up and let him rot in this village?" Sora didn't answer Kaelith's statement but frowned thoughtfully at her words, then slowly shook his head. It was then that Vael stepped forward, his face flat, showing a different kind of justice. Without a word, Vael lifted the limp mercenary leader onto his shoulder, carried him to the center of the village square, and dropped him with a loud thud onto the ground below.

  Then Vael looked towards the nearby houses and shouted, his voice loud and echoing throughout the village: "Hey, you survivors! He is the cause of your suffering and fear all this time, making you mute" Doors creaked open as villagers heard Vael's words and cautiously came out, trembling. The old man, mothers, children, and wounded farmers all wore the calm expressions of survivors who never lived peacefully in their own homes. Vael raised a hand and pointed towards the mercenary leader: "He is yours now, and you have the right to decide his life or death" Vael stepped back slowly as the villagers began to surround the fallen, unconscious mercenary leader. Some villagers stared at him cynically, while others picked up hand-sized stones.

  Whatever the decision, it was now in the hands of those he had tormented all this time. The five watched as the atmosphere turned serious and tense, until finally Namien broke their silence. "So, where are we going now, Silent One?" Namien asked, tilting his head towards Sora. Sora turned to the south, as Lyra had said before. Sora raised his hand and pointed firmly south. Namien, following the direction of Sora's finger, fell silent for a moment, then understood the direction and said. "South, huh... the kingdom of Jargmund, then, is the next our destination." Kaelith's face suddenly tensed upon hearing the kingdom's name. Vael sheathed his sword. "Never thought we'd set foot in there" Arelan adjusted the grip on his axe and placed it on his back. "Tyrants never fall easily, but we've fallen worse than the fall of a deposed ruler". Sora just stared ahead towards the south, his mind still replaying Lyra's words that led down a path he couldn't change. Towards the tyrant in his greedy kingdom and towards a kingdom unaware of where its fate awaited. And behind them, the wind carried away the last whispers of the fallen mercenary army and the first breath of what happened next.