Morning in Nightrune Village arrived slowly.
A thin mist still hung low between the wooden houses as the sun slipped through the Farlios trees. Golden light reflected off green lanterns that had not yet fully gone out, while the soft chirping of small glowing birds echoed from the high branches.
A wooden door creaked open.
Zeydan stepped out.
He wore his black Warden jacket, still not completely neat. His black hair was slightly messy, and his bluish-gray eyes looked tired—yet calmer than the night before.
He paused for a moment in the hallway of Ardelle's house.
From the open kitchen came the sound of pots and the gentle splash of liquid.
Zeydan turned his head.
There, Ardelle stood beside a stone stove, her body leaning slightly forward. Her movements were smooth and deliberate, her dark green robe swaying gently as she stirred a pot of golden-colored soup in a clay vessel.
Beside her stood Mireya, a bit stiff.
She had rolled up the sleeves of her gray hoodie, her brows slightly furrowed as she watched Ardelle closely. Occasionally, she copied Ardelle's movements—cutting blue-glowing roots and adding them into the pot—but it was obvious this was not something she was used to doing.
"Don't press when you cut," Ardelle said softly but firmly.
"Let the blade follow the fibers of the plant."
Mireya gave a small nod.
"Oh… like that."
The knife in her hand moved more slowly now. Her expression was serious—almost the same look she wore when aiming at an enemy.
Zeydan held back a faint smile.
(It's kind of strange… seeing Mireya look so… normal.)
He stepped away from the kitchen and entered the living room.
There, Lina sat alone on a wooden bench near the window. Morning light rested gently on her shoulders.
Both of her hands clutched a small locket.
Inside it—Victor's photo.
Her thumb rubbed the glass surface again and again, slowly, almost soundlessly. Her face was empty, but her eyes were red—not from crying, but from holding everything in for too long.
Zeydan stopped a few steps away from her.
He wanted to come closer.
Wanted to say something.
Anything.
But his feet wouldn't move.
(If I speak now… I'll only tear the wound open again.)
He lowered his head slightly, then turned away without a sound.
Zeydan stepped outside.
The morning air greeted him.
He stood in front of Ardelle's house, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, watching the Furniy villagers begin their daily routines.
Cat-eared children ran about, chasing glowing birds.
A wolf-eared man carried a wooden basket filled with purple mushrooms.
Rinna walked along the path, giving Zeydan a polite nod while holding Neri's hand—Neri waved cheerfully.
For a moment… the world felt peaceful.
Then—
"What are you doing just standing there? It's pointless."
Zeydan flinched.
He turned quickly, his eyes scanning the area.
"Wait—who are you?" he said firmly. "Where are you?"
A soft laugh echoed. Not from outside.
From inside him.
"Heh… did you forget? I'm Shadow. From yesterday."
Zeydan let out a short breath.
"Oh. Shadow. I thought it was someone else."
He leaned against a wooden pillar.
"So where are you now?"
"I'm inside your body."
Zeydan frowned.
"…My body? Where exactly?"
"Hm… everywhere."
"Huh?" Zeydan reflexively looked at both of his hands.
"What do you mean, everywhere?"
"Hmmm… hard to explain to a newcomer to the world of Santara," Shadow replied casually.
"But the important thing is—I'm inside you."
Zeydan snorted softly.
"Alright, let's go with that. But what's in it for me?"
"There is," Shadow answered quickly.
"You can use power now. But you'll need training. And I can control your body."
Zeydan stiffened.
"What!? Control my body?"
"Relax," Shadow chuckled.
"Only with your permission."
"Oh…" Zeydan sighed.
"I thought you were just a parasite."
"Maybe," Shadow replied lightly.
"But in a way humans don't understand. Except you."
Zeydan opened his mouth.
"Huh!? What do you—"
"Zeydan!"
Mireya's voice called from inside the house.
"Breakfast! The soup's getting cold!"
Zeydan turned toward the door and muttered softly,
"We'll continue later, Shadow."
Shadow laughed quietly.
---
A simple wooden dining table was filled with bowls of warm soup. The scent of forest herbs mixed with sweet roots filled the room.
Ardelle sat with a straight yet relaxed posture.
Mireya sat beside her, carefully spooning her soup.
Lina sat across from Zeydan, still quiet, but at least willing to eat.
Silence hung for a few seconds.
Then Ardelle set her spoon down.
"Alright," she said, looking at the three of them.
"I have information to share."
They all looked up.
"A specialist agent wants to train the three of you. Do you agree?"
Zeydan raised an eyebrow.
"Don't tell me… the Arab guy from yesterday?"
Ardelle nodded.
"Yes. The agent commonly called Abdullah. He has experience training Initor agents."
Mireya paused mid-spoon.
"Wait. What's an Initor agent?"
Ardelle went silent for a moment, then let out a small sigh.
"…You don't know?"
All three shook their heads.
"To be honest," Ardelle continued,
"I don't fully understand it either. My information about Abdullah comes from other agents… and from my own experience."
Zeydan leaned forward slightly.
"So… when is Abdullah coming here?"
Ardelle glanced toward the window.
"If I'm not mistaken—"
She smiled faintly.
"—probably very soon."
The air in the room subtly shifted.
As if the peaceful morning had just taken a breath…
---
A Few Minutes Later
After breakfast, Ardelle's house returned to calm.
The soup bowls were empty, their warmth slowly fading. Sunlight now climbed higher, slipping through the gaps in the wooden windows and dancing across the floor.
Suddenly—
Fwoosh… flap… flap…
The sound of wings came from outside.
Zeydan, tightening his belt, reflexively looked toward the window. Lina lifted her head, hands still resting on the table. Mireya narrowed her eyes, her instincts immediately alert.
A bird descended onto the window frame.
It resembled an owl, but its feathers were deep purple, patterned with faint, constellation-like lights. Its silver eyes gleamed calmly and intelligently. A small tube sealed with green wax hung from its leg.
Ardelle stood up.
Her movements were calm, almost silent. She approached slowly, raising her hand so as not to startle the creature.
"A tube Abdullah often uses…" she murmured.
The bird bowed its head, allowing Ardelle to take the tube, then flapped its wings and vanished back into the Farlios trees.
Silence lingered.
Ardelle rolled the tube between her fingers, then broke the seal. She pulled out a thin scroll that glowed faintly.
She didn't read it right away.
Her eyes scanned the words quickly—then her brows lifted slightly.
She cleared her throat and read aloud.
"Good morning. I'm already waiting for all of you at Camp Astoria. Good luck.
— Abdullah."
Zeydan blinked.
"…That's it?"
Mireya tilted her head, expression flat but wary.
"That's very short. Too… polite."
Lina crossed her arms lightly, shoulders tense.
"Polite people are usually the most troublesome," she muttered.
Zeydan held back a small laugh.
"For some reason, I agree."
Ardelle folded the letter carefully and slipped it into her robe pocket.
"Even though this letter sounds ordinary—almost peaceful," she said softly but seriously,
"I don't believe the journey will be that simple."
She looked at each of them in turn.
"Camp Astoria is indeed close. But Abdullah… he's the type who tests people. Even before training begins."
Mireya raised an eyebrow.
"How close is 'close'?"
Ardelle smiled faintly.
"Quite close."
Zeydan and Mireya exchanged a look.
It lasted too long.
Too synchronized.
Ardelle stopped and sighed lightly.
"Why are you two looking at me like that?" she said, her tone rising slightly.
"It really is close."
A brief silence.
Then—
Zeydan laughed first.
"Alright, alright. I trust you."
Mireya gave a faint smile.
"For now."
Lina shook her head gently, the corner of her lips lifting just a little.
---
Minutes later, Ardelle's house filled with the sounds of preparation.
Zeydan tightened the straps of his large backpack—far too large for a trip that was supposedly "close."
Mireya checked her silver pistols, her fingers precise and nearly silent. After locking the magazines, she paused. With her left hand, she pulled out a neatly folded black cloth from her jacket pocket. Calmly, she lifted it to her face, covering her glowing right eye, and tied it behind her head with practiced, military precision—not too tight, but firm enough to stay in place. Just before lowering her hand, her thumb pressed lightly against the cloth, as if ensuring the X symbol beneath was truly hidden.
Lina adjusted the position of her energy sword on her back, making sure the shield mechanism was active. Her shoulders rose slightly, then lowered as the system hummed to life.
They gathered in front of Ardelle's house.
The forest wind blew gently, carrying the scent of damp earth and fresh leaves.
Ardelle stood before them, holding her bow casually.
"Ahem," she said.
"So, we're heading to Camp Astoria. It likely won't drain much energy."
Zeydan and Mireya immediately exchanged another glance.
"But," Ardelle continued,
"we must move carefully. It's very possible Abdullah has prepared tests along the way."
Zeydan nodded, then lifted his bag slightly, as if checking its weight.
He leaned toward Mireya and whispered,
"By the way… I brought a lot of food and drinks."
Mireya turned sharply.
"Huh?" her voice barely audible.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah," Zeydan whispered, holding back a grin.
"In case Ardelle's version of 'close' has a different definition."
Mireya stifled a laugh.
"…Fair point."
Then she narrowed her eyes.
"But where did you get all of that?"
Zeydan paused.
Inside his head, a familiar voice spoke casually.
"Just say I gave it to you."
Zeydan sighed softly and whispered,
"Shadow."
Mireya's eyes widened slightly.
"Shadow?"
Before she could ask more—
"Alright," Ardelle said, stepping forward.
"Let's move."
They followed Ardelle along the path beside her house.
Step by step.
Five steps. Ten steps.
Then—
Ardelle stopped.
She turned left, toward the low bushes behind her house.
Zeydan frowned.
"…Wait."
Mireya stopped as well.
"Don't tell me—"
Ardelle pushed the bushes aside, revealing an open area.
A small camp stood there.
Dark cloth tents arranged neatly. A small campfire burned steadily. A simple flag bearing the Warden symbol was planted in the ground.
Zeydan stared blankly.
"…Seriously?"
Lina's mouth fell open slightly.
"This is… behind your house?"
Mireya rubbed her temple.
"You've got to be kidding me. It's right here."
Zeydan turned to Ardelle.
"…Your definition of 'quite close' is insane."
Ardelle smiled innocently.
"I told you, didn't I?"
From the center of the camp, someone stood.
A man in a black robe with a green turban. A black wooden staff rested at his side. A large bag lay on the ground.
He stepped forward slowly.
His round black sunglasses reflected the morning light.
His calm aura… felt heavy.
He stopped a few steps in front of them.
A faint smile formed on his face.
"Welcome, Agent Initor," he said in a deep, steady voice.
The wind blew softly.
Zeydan straightened his back.
Mireya observed sharply.
Lina tightened her grip.
And inside Zeydan's head, Shadow laughed quietly.
"Now… this is interesting."