Then Gazel gently gestured to his wife with his hand, a smile etched on his face, and respectfully said to Vantias:
"This is my lovely wife. Her name is Seria."
Vantias smiled, bowed his head slightly, and said politely:
"Thank you for having me. I'm Vantias, one of Gazel's friends."
The woman gave a warm smile and replied:
"Ah… I'm truly happy to meet one of Gazel's friends. Please, come in."
Vantias lowered his head and stepped into the house. It was a simple place, filled with modest wooden furniture, but overflowing with love and warmth.
Gazel turned to Seria and said:
"We came to grab a few pieces of equipment for the mission."
Seria's face suddenly shifted to concern and anxiety. She raised her voice slightly and said:
"But you said you wanted to retire. Did you forget our promise? We agreed you'd start a peaceful life. It's better that way—for our children."
Gazel looked a bit embarrassed in front of Vantias and lowered his voice:
"Sweetheart, not in front of our guest. We'll talk later. Now's not the time."
It was clear that Seria was upset. She said nothing more and headed toward the kitchen. Gazel looked at Vantias and said:
"I'm really sorry. She gets sensitive about this topic sometimes."
Vantias lowered his head and replied softly:
"It's alright…"
Then he looked around the house, glanced down at the floor with hesitation, and said in a low voice:
"Gazel… Now that I've seen your family… I don't know… Maybe I shouldn't let you come. This journey might be more dangerous than we expected. If something happens to you… what will they do without you?"
Gazel gave a calm smile, tinged with sadness, and said:
"Vantias… You think I don't know that? Every time I go on a mission, I wonder if it's the last time I'll hug my daughter and son. This is the life I chose."
Vantias, visibly troubled, said:
"But this time it's different. This time… you're going because of me, not for yourself. That's not right."
"And… honestly, I don't want to be the reason your children lose their father."
Gazel smiled, placed a hand on Vantias's shoulder, and said with a calm but serious tone:
"The reason I'm doing this… is because you once did the same for me, Vantias."
"You might not remember, but what you did saved my family. I will always be grateful for that."
Vantias frowned slightly and asked curiously:
"What did I do?"
Gazel gave a crooked smile and began:
"You…"
But before he could finish, Seria came toward them with wooden cups filled with tea. She smiled warmly and said:
"Here's some tea. It's a bit hot, so let it cool down first."
Gazel and Vantias both said in unison:
"Thank you."
After having their tea, Gazel and Vantias entered a room filled with various old items. The space looked like it had been used as storage—worn-out cupboards, broken tools—and in the corner stood a large wooden chest.
Gazel pulled out the chest and wiped the dust off with a cloth. A thick layer had settled, showing it hadn't been touched in a long time.
*Ghrrnkk*
After opening the chest, they peered inside. Leather armor, a sword wrapped in cloth, a sickle, small knives, and other items were inside. Gazel handed the leather armor to Vantias.
"Try this on—let's see if it fits."
Vantias smiled when he saw the armor and said:
"Thank you."
He picked up the armor—it was heavier than it looked. The leather gave off a distinct scent, a blend of sweat, travel dust, and forgotten history.
He first threw the upper part over his shoulders. A dull "thud" echoed as the leather landed on him. He grabbed the side straps and began buckling them.
"Click… click…" the buckles latched, tight and secure, as if his body still remembered how to wear it.
The leather was cold and stiff at first, but it slowly softened with his body heat, becoming like a second skin. Vantias moved his arms and rotated his shoulders. The armor clung to him, flexible yet protective.
He then fastened the bracers, the soft hiss of leather sliding:
"Shoooof…"
Finally, he tightened the belt around his waist.
Gazel chuckled and said:
"Wow, it really suits you."
He then pulled out a sword from the chest, wrapped in white cloth, and handed it to Vantias.
Vantias unsheathed the sword. With a short, muted metallic sound,
"Shing!"
the blade slid free.
Sunlight poured through the window, striking the copper blade and giving it a fiery gold-red gleam—like frozen flame in his hands.
The blade wasn't flawless—scars from old battles etched its edge. It wasn't new, but it was still well-balanced and solid. The hilt was wrapped in black leather, darkened by sweat and blood over time.
Marks of age and combat stood proudly on its surface.
Gazel smiled, folded his arms, and said with pride:
"Looks like you're ready now…"
Vantias laughed and replied:
"Yeah… I'm all set. Thanks for the gear, Gazel. I promise I'll bring it back—and one day, I'll repay you."
Gazel said:
"You and I don't keep tabs like that. Now come on—we need to get ready for the dungeon. Every moment we wait lowers our chances."
Vantias nodded and said:
"Agreed. Let's head out."
Once ready, Gazel prepared his own gear for the dungeon. He wore clean, polished steel armor, heavy steel boots, and a gleaming steel sword—clearly cared for daily.
He packed a large backpack with dried jerky, a few white bread loaves, some apples, a bottle of olive oil, some alcohol, white cloth, and bandages.
Vantias noticed the olive oil and asked with curiosity:
"Gazel, what's the olive oil for?"
Gazel was caught off guard by the question at first and then said:
"Ah… olive oil has several uses. In autumn, it rains a lot—especially around here. That's why olive oil is perfect for cleaning your sword. It helps prevent rust."
Vantias was impressed:
"Oh… I get it now. For a moment, I thought you were planning to fry the meat."
Gazel laughed and replied:
"No, the meat's jerky—it doesn't need cooking."
Then Gazel continued:
"Alright, we better get going."
"Alright."
Vantias lifted his backpack—it was heavy, and he felt the weight press into his shoulders. Then he picked up his sheathed sword.
He was ready.
His expression was firm and determined, prepared for any challenge the dungeon might hold...