(David pov)
I stared at the shattered stone before me.
What lay broken on the ground should have been impossible for a human to achieve—yet my hands still trembled with the echo of it. The air felt heavier, as if the world itself had paused to acknowledge what I had done.
Lazarus stood beside the debris, his arms folded behind his back. He exhaled slowly, not in surprise—but in confirmation.
Then he turned to me.
"It's your turn now."
My gaze followed his, landing on the massive rock ahead of me—taller than I was, thicker than anything I had ever dared challenge. My chest tightened.
Lazarus noticed my hesitation.
Without another word, he turned his back and began walking toward the house, his steps calm, unbothered. Over his shoulder, he spoke
"Come back when the sun has fully fallen."
There was a smile in his voice. The kind that said he already knew the outcome.
And then he disappeared into the forest.
I stood there alone.
The rock waited.
I took my stance. Drew in a deep breath. Focused every ounce of strength I possessed into a single point. My fist moved
Crack.
Pain exploded through my hand. I felt bone protest against flesh as my strike landed.
The rock didn't even flinch.
Not a fracture. Not a scar.
I staggered back, clutching my hand as the evening sun cast its golden rays across the clearing. The warmth felt cruel against my failure.
The shattered stone from before lay beside me, proof that the impossible could happen.
And the unbroken rock before me stood as a reminder
I wasn't there yet.
My difficulty sat beside me in silence, watching as the sun slowly sank beneath the horizon.
(Helori desert)
The ruined land grew quieter as they rode on.
Ash clung to the ground like old snow, and the wind whispered through dead branches that no longer remembered what it meant to live.
Shino rode at the front, his posture straight, his gaze fixed ahead. The bridge they sought lay beyond this wasteland—but the land itself felt like a warning, as if it watched them pass.
At last, the dead forest began to thin.
Twisted trees gave way to open ground, and as they rode out of its grasp, a vast desert unfolded before them, endless sand stretching beneath a darkening sky.
Night was beginning to settle. The air grew colder, and the horizon burned faintly with the last traces of daylight.
They needed shelter.
"Hera," Shino said, slowing his horse. "Is there any nearby village where we can rest for the night?"
Hera quickly reached into her bag and unfolded her map, her fingers moving with practiced ease. Her eyes scanned the markings before she stopped and pointed.
"There's a small village to the north," she said. "If we ride now, we should reach it before night fully falls."
Shino nodded. "Then we move."
Without hesitation, they mounted their horses once more and turned northward, riding into the approaching darkness—unaware of what awaited them beyond the desert's silence.
After hours of riding, they finally reached the village gates.
Torches burned atop the wooden walls, their flames flickering against the night sky. A few guards stood watch above, silhouettes stiff with alertness. The riders were unexpected—and the tension was immediate.
"Identify yourselves," one of the soldiers called down.
Shino guided his horse forward.
"We are from the kingdom's capital," he said calmly. "We're on an official mission and need a place to rest for the night."
"And you are?" the soldier asked, his grip tightening on his spear.
"I am Shino," he replied, his voice firm and steady.
"Shino Austin."
The name struck like thunder.
The soldier straightened instantly, breath catching in his throat. The confidence drained from his posture, replaced by urgency.
"Open the gates!" he shouted.
The mechanisms groaned as heavy wheels turned. The gates slowly parted, allowing the riders through.
A guard quickly descended and began escorting them inside, already turning to leave.
"I'll inform the village chief of your arrival"
"There's no need," Shino interrupted.
The guard froze.
"We're only here to rest," Shino continued. "No need to alert the chief."
The soldier bowed slightly. "As you wish."
The gates closed behind them, sealing the village in silence once more.
"But can you lead us to a place where we can rest for the night?" Shino asked.
"Yes, sir," the guard replied without hesitation. "I know a place where you and your men can rest well."
He gestured forward. "Please, follow me."
They moved through the village streets, and almost immediately, the silence they expected was replaced by life.
Music echoed between stone houses. Laughter spilled into the open air. Lanterns hung overhead, casting warm colors across faces flushed with drink and joy. People danced freely in the streets, cups raised, voices lifted in song.
It looked like a celebration.
Peter leaned closer. "What are they celebrating?"
The guard glanced back as he walked.
"It's the Festival of Peace, dedicated to Ouranos," he explained. "To thank him for his service to the people, and the other gods."
He paused briefly, watching the crowd.
"We celebrate it at the end of the dry season," he continued, "to give thanks for the strength he granted us through the hardships."
The music swelled as they passed deeper into the village, joy and reverence woven together beneath the night sky
"This seems like a lively village," Hiron said, his eyes moving across the glowing streets behind them.
"Yes," the guard replied with a smile. "The people here are joyful and kind, thanks to the good leadership of our village chief, Nikolas Yuto."
They soon stopped before an iron gate, tall and cold, standing in contrast to the warmth of the village beyond. Behind it rose a towering white building, its walls smooth and unmarked, reflecting the lantern light like pale stone bathed in moonlight.
The gatekeeper recognized the guard, after a brief conversation they opened the gates.
As they prepared to enter, Peter turned back.
"Sorry," he said, "I never got your name."
The guard hesitated for a moment, then smiled.
"Andreas."
"Thank you, Andreas," Peter said sincerely. "For your help."
Andreas gave a small nod.
The iron gates slowly closed behind them, sealing off the music, the laughter, and the celebration, leaving only silence, stone, and the weight of the night ahead.
They entered the building, .its structure old, its walls shaped by time but yet its beauty carried the weight of countless histories. Every crack, every beam, felt like a story waiting to be remembered.
An elderly woman stood at the center of the hall, a young girl beside her, holding her hand.
"Welcome to our humble guest house," the woman said warmly. "My name is Miss Hikari, and this is my granddaughter, Elizabeth."
Her voice carried a gentle cheer, the kind that eased tired hearts without effort.
"Thank you for having us, Miss Hikari," Shino replied, offering a respectful nod.
"My pleasure. My granddaughter will take you to your rooms so you may rest well," Miss Hikari said kindly.
"Please, follow me," Elizabeth added.
They walked upstairs, the wooden steps creaking softly beneath their weight. As they reached the staircase, Hera slowed to a stop. Her eyes drifted across the walls and ceiling, her senses stretching outward, as if the house itself whispered something only she could hear.
"Aren't you coming?" Hiron asked, pausing halfway up.
"Sorry for the delay," Hera replied. "I was checking something."
"Is everything alright?" Hiron asked, his voice low.
"Yes… it's nothing," she said, forcing a settling calm into her tone.
She moved again, catching up with the others as they reached a long hallway lined with several doors, each one simple yet well-kept.
"There are enough rooms for all of you," Elizabeth said, gesturing gently. "Please, choose whichever you like."
"Thank you," Shino said. "We truly appreciate your hospitality."
"You're welcome," Elizabeth replied with a soft smile. "I'll take my leave now. Please, settle in well."
With that, she turned and quietly walked away, leaving them alone in the stillness of the hallway—where the warmth of welcome lingered, yet something unseen seemed to watch in silence.
As Elizabeth disappeared toward the end of the hallway, Hera remained still.
The feeling returned, stronger this time.
Something about the house refused to sit right with her spirit. She couldn't tell whether it was the age of the place, the weight of history soaked into its walls, or something else entirely… something watching from where light could not reach.
Her fingers curled slightly at her side.