"It seems it's finally over," Haku muttered to Faldor.
"Yeah… but our problems haven't left us yet," Faldor replied grimly.
Ino sighed. "I know we still have to reach Ferath, but it should be easier now. The Syderaphs have passed—so the road should be clear."
"Don't lower your guard," Faldor warned. "We didn't expect that Palug either, and you saw what our carelessness cost us. This time, we're not just a small team anymore."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
Before he could answer, a group of villagers emerged from the tunnels—faces pale, eyes hollow.
They froze, staring at what was left of Veerda.
The village was gone.
Their homes buried beneath the ruins.
Some fell to their knees, tears mixing with the dust.
Faldor's voice cut through the silence:
"Anyone who wishes to come with us, we leave for Ferath in one hour. We won't wait longer."
"Your fault!" someone shouted.
"You brought this disaster upon us!"
"Our homes are gone because of you!"
"Monsters follow wherever you go!"
A woman's voice screamed above the rest, filled with grief and rage.
"Cursed child! You brought the end upon us!"
She threw the first stone.
Ren's mother.
Others followed her lead, shouting, crying, throwing stones in blind hatred.
"That's the boy—the cursed brat who left us!"
"You came back just to finish us off!"
"Die already!"
The chaos was stopped by a hoarse shout:
"STOP!"
Oskar, half-dead and barely standing, dragged himself forward, blood on his face.
"If you need someone to blame… kill me instead," he said, coughing.
"I failed to protect this village. That boy fought the beast alone to save you all."
A heavy silence fell. The villagers lowered their stones, eyes empty and ashamed.
Faldor stepped closer, his tone firm but weary.
"Unfortunately, we can't take you with us, Oskar. In your condition, you'd only slow us down."
"I know," Oskar said softly. He turned his tired gaze toward Ren, lying unconscious nearby.
"Just… take care of him."
Faldor adjusted the wooden staff supporting his injured leg, then bent down and lifted Ren onto his back.
"This idiot is one of us now. He's coming."
A faint smile appeared on Oskar's face.
"Then maybe he still has a chance."
Faldor looked toward Roland, the village leader.
"If anyone else still wants to come with us—"
"Just leave," Roland spat, unable to meet their eyes. "Haven't you done enough?"
And so they left—Faldor, Haku, and Ino—carrying Ren and followed by a few hesitant survivors who changed their minds at the last second.
"Faldor, want me to carry him for a while?" Haku asked.
"I'm fine. Just stay alert," Faldor replied. "And Haku—did you do what I asked?"
"Yeah. I released a messenger crow toward the northwest before anyone saw. We should get the city's location soon."
"Good. If we get no reply in six hours, change direction south."
Hours later, Ren stirred awake.
"Where… am I?"
"Finally," Faldor groaned. "You were out cold for hours. My back's killing me. Thought you died back there."
"What happened?"
"Not much. You got swallowed by the beast, the Syderaphs killed it instead, and the villagers kicked us out. Oh, and you've been sleeping like a rock for five hours."
Ren blinked, processing everything. "Who are they?"
He noticed a small group trailing behind them.
"Some of the villagers," Ino said. "They couldn't stay behind. Guess they'd rather follow the cursed ones than die alone."
A white crow swooped down from the sky, landing near Faldor.
"Looks like we got lucky, kid," Faldor said. "Ferath's not far."
Ren sighed. "After today, I don't feel very lucky."
He glanced back toward the horizon, half-expecting to see a familiar face. Nothing.
Ino caught his look. "Were you hoping someone would follow?"
"Not really. Just curious."
She smiled faintly. "Even if no one appreciates what you did, you should still be proud. Most people would've run away. Don't let their words get to you."
Ren's voice was cold.
"Don't worry. I didn't do it for fame or gratitude—or even for the village. I did it because it was the only way to survive."
Faldor chuckled tiredly.
"For someone who wants to live so badly, you're the most pessimistic person I've ever met."
"Finally… we've reached Ferath."
Rising like a giant hill, Ferath was a city standing on enormous mechanical legs that moved ceaselessly across the plains.
"How can something that huge and loud not attract monsters?" Ren asked curiously.
Faldor smirked. "Actually, this is just one part of the city."
"What do you mean?"
"Ferath is made of four massive sections that can split apart and travel separately whenever danger approaches. It's how the city survives. With monsters roaming everywhere, being a merchant is almost impossible."
"Except here," he continued. "Wandering traders gather in Ferath. They stay in one section of the city and travel when it separates, spreading to different regions."
"It's also a refuge city. People come here because it's the safest passage to reach other towns. In truth, very few actually live here permanently."
"And to answer your question," Faldor added, "there are scouts who travel ahead of the city to detect threats. Most likely, Ferath moved away right before the storm arrived."
"I see," Ren said softly.
From behind them, a voice shouted:
"Hey! You bastards left me behind!"
It was Klaus — covered in dust, angry but alive. Somehow, he had survived being thrown by the beast and managed to catch up.
"Oh, Klaus! We… actually forgot about you," Ren admitted.
"Some friends you are," Klaus grumbled. "You just left me there to die."
"How did you even find us?" Ren asked.
"Simple. With my incredible skills, of course. I went back to the ruins, saw the beast's corpse, and figured you'd gone west. Then I climbed a tree, spotted a messenger crow flying in that direction, and followed it."
The whole group stared at him for a moment — then burst out laughing.
"Pure luck, huh?"
When Ren stepped into the city, he froze. Towering buildings, glowing lights, colors everywhere — and people. So many people. Laughing, shouting, bargaining… living. It was nothing like his silent, broken village.
"Stop staring, kid," Faldor muttered. "We've got work to do."
Soon the group split up. Faldor went to report their mission. Haku and Ino guided the survivors to the refugee quarter.
As for me — I went with Klaus to register as a traveler citizen.
Apparently, on the surface, society was divided into strict social ranks:
Nobles — born from pure bloodlines, living only in the great cities. They rule the world and never leave their capitals.
• Venerables — those who earn status through achievements or merit.
• Class 3 → 1 citizens — ordinary people; advanced explorers and captains rank around Class 1.
• Soldiers and Hunters — citizens with full rights, serving under the state.
• Licensed Explorers and Peasants — the lower class. Faldor, surprisingly, belongs here.
• Inter-citizens — below peasants; people without full rights.
• Class 0 – The Rightless — refugees like those who followed us. They either become slaves or inter-citizens, depending on how useful they are.
After signing a dozen papers, I received a temporary room and a letter stating I had to report to the Office within five days.
When I entered my room, three thoughts struck me.
"My head hurts…" I muttered, collapsing on the bed.
"This room is so small… so empty. I don't even have anything to put here."
My eyes wandered across the bare walls.
"I don't have a single thing that belongs to me… nothing precious…"
I stared at the ceiling.
"Something precious… have I ever had such a thing?"
Inside a dimly lit chamber, Faldor stood before the city officials — men whose very presence demanded silence. Their eyes were sharp, their tone colder than steel.
"Tell me, Faldor… what do you think is inside this box?"
In front of him sat a large wooden crate, stained with dried blood.
Faldor's voice was steady, though his throat felt tight.
"I… don't know, sir."
The man sighed and lifted the lid.
Inside lay something unspeakable.
"It's your man, Gyro," he said, his voice void of emotion.
"Or rather… his head. You should've seen his face before it came off."
A few in the room laughed — cruel, dismissive.
"Oh no, a dangerous monster, was it? Hardly worth the trouble."
Faldor clenched his jaw, holding back the anger rising in his chest.
"He was just an inter-citizen," one of them added coldly.
"Lost all his rights the moment he stood before the military court. Now then — according to your report, this was a Class-D Palug? How did you deal with it?"
"The credit goes to the new recruit — the one who became a scavenger," Faldor replied.
"He threw himself into the creature's gut and killed it from the inside."
Sounds like an interesting one — maybe even useful for a cave man like him."
"He's determined," Faldor said firmly. "I can tell he'll want to enlist as a soldier soon enough. Brave, maybe reckless… but ambitious to the bone."
"Ambition is good," the officer murmured. "As long as curiosity doesn't kill it. We will keep him under control."
Silence hung for a moment before Faldor spoke again.
"There's something else that doesn't make sense," he said.
"Why was a Class-D Palug even in that region? It shouldn't exist there."
The men exchanged brief glances.
"We were wondering the same thing," one admitted. "There's no reason for such a creature to appear — unless someone brought it. Maybe to test us… or distract us."
"You're saying someone did this intentionally?" Faldor pressed.
"Most likely," came the cold reply. "And if I had to guess… I'd say one of the Renegades."
"The Renegades?" another scoffed. "Those are just legends. Exiles. No reason for them to come here."
"Myth or not," said the first, his voice low and sharp, "they were once among the strongest and most dangerous humans alive. Reason is what creates motives… and madness often hides reason well."
Silence settled in the room, heavy and uneasy.
"Can I leave now, sir?" Faldor asked quietly.
"One more thing," the man said. "What exactly happened to the village?"
"When we returned, it was already destroyed. We believe the monsters passed through and wiped everything out."
"Very well. If that's your report, you may go. Apologies for the inconvenience."
"No problem, sir," Faldor replied, turning on his heel.
The door closed behind him with a dull metallic thud.
And for a brief moment… the only sound left in the room was the faint dripping of blood from the open box.