The morning sun stretched lazily over the hills, bathing the farm in gold. Birds chirped, and the wind danced through the crops, carrying with it the soft smell of dew and dust.
Inside the creaky old farmhouse, Grandpa Salatin was slumped in his patched-up rocking chair, a thick bandage wrapped around his torso, chest rising and falling slow but steady.
"It's a new hot thing on the market!" Salatin exclaimed, waving a folded flyer in one hand like it was a royal decree.
Matsu, hunched over and tying his boots, groaned. "You said that last week about Sunblossom Radish."
Salatin huffed, "Listen here, boy. This ain't some nonsense. This wheat? Makes horses stronger. I'm telling you, people are gonna go crazy for it."
"Sure. Sounds totally not like a scam," Matsu muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Guess it's about time to go"
"You're not going anywhere like that," Matsu grumbled, resting against the doorframe. "You can barely lift a spoon."
Salatin scoffed and pushed against the armrests. "Look—!" he barked, trying to rise from his stool.
CRACK.
His back betrayed him with an audible pop.
"THAT'S NOT EVEN AN INJURY!" Matsu shouted, half in horror, half in exasperation, as Salatin froze mid-stand, eyes wide with pain.
The old man groaned and slumped back down, defeated by gravity and years. "Alright, alright," he muttered, waving him off with one hand. "I guess you have to do it."
"Me" Matsu blinked, stunned. "Why do I have to do it"
Salatin gave a begrudgingly grunt. "Because I told you"
"If I have to," Matsu reluctantly agreed.
It was Matsu's first time leaving the village on his own and his first real taste of the world.
Salatin leaned forward, wincing as he did. "One more thing," he said, voice low.
Matsu looked up from adjusting the saddle straps. "Yeah?"
"You remember that bastard from yesterday?" Salatin asked.
"Hard to forget," Matsu muttered, rubbing his side where a bruise still lingered.
Salatin nodded toward the window. "You saw the blue feather on his armor?"
"Yeah," Matsu said. "Looked stupid."
"That means he was a Lieutenant," Salatin said, eyes narrowing. "But there is one rank higher"
Matsu blinked. "A rank higher?"
Salatin's tone turned grim. "If the feather's red, just go the other way."
"Why?" Matsu asked.
Salatin didn't answer immediately. He looked out across the fields, the gold light catching in his tired eyes.
"Because if it's red," he finally said, voice heavy, "it means they're a Captain. And Captains… they're strength is out of this world"
With a nod, he stepped outside, climbed onto the cart, and patted Caesar—the stubborn old donkey that Salatin swore was a "retired war horse."
"Let's go, Caesar," he whispered.
As the cart rumbled toward the village square, the sound of hooves (and one very squeaky wheel) echoed through the morning air.
Near the old stone fountain stood three familiar faces: Jinto, Rika, and Lolo, all waving as Matsu approached.
Jinto squinted, then burst out laughing. "What the hell is that?!"
Matsu sat up straighter, beaming with pride. "This? My grandpa's horse."
"Seriously?" Rika snorted. "That's not a horse—that's a donkey"
Matsu looked down at Caesar, who stared off into the distance.
"…You know," Matsu muttered, "the knights' horses did look kinda different."
Still, he patted Caesar's bony flank with affection. "Don't worry, Caesar. You're way cooler than those snobby thoroughbreds."
Caesar blinked slowly.
And then—chomp.
"OW!! STUPID HORSE" Matsu howled as Caesar bit his arm and yanked.
"NOT A HORSE!" the three of them shouted in unison.
Grumbling, Matsu slid off the cart and rubbed his arm. "I'm just running an errand anyway. Grandpa wants me to fetch some 'super wheat'—apparently it makes horses stronger or something."
Rika crossed her arms with a smirk. "That old man is as greedy as always"
Lolo stepped forward shyly, hands behind her back. "Still… thanks, Matsu. For yesterday. For protecting us."
Jinto's expression turned serious. "You didn't have to step in like that, but you did. And… I won't forget it."
Matsu scratched the back of his head, bashful. "I just… couldn't let that guy walk all over us."
"We know," Rika said, her tone softer now. "That's wha it mattered."
Jinto puffed out his chest. "Because of you, I'm gonna train harder. One day I'll beat up two knights. Maybe three."
"I want to study medicine," Lolo added. "So the next time something like that happens… I can help."
Rika looked toward the hills. "I want to leave this village one day. Do something big."
Matsu blinked, a little overwhelmed. "You guys…"
Caesar's ears twitched.
Then, without warning, the donkey screeched—a sound somewhere between a battle cry and a kettle exploding—and took off.
Matsu scrambled to get up, but his foot had slipped into a loop of the wagon's leather harness—and the moment Caesar bolted, it cinched tight around his ankle.
"WAIT—WAIT, NO—CAESAR!!! STUPID HORSE"
"STILL NOT A HORSE!" Jinto, Rika, and Lolo shouted after him.
The next thing he knew, he was being dragged across the road, dirt flying into his mouth, pebbles bouncing off his forehead, his limbs flailing behind like a scarecrow in a hurricane.
"STOOOOOP! YOU STUPID FOUR-LEGGED TRAITOR!" he screamed.
***
Meanwhile…
Far from the fields and sunlit earth, deep within a crumbling, half-buried fortress, Sir Caldras knelt on stone blackened by old fire. The chamber was vast, but empty — no tapestries, no banners, no signs of warmth. Just cold walls, cracked columns, and silence.
This forgotten place had once been a military outpost — now little more than a ruin. But it had been repurposed. It stood quietly at the edge of the town
Standing before Caldras was a cloaked figure, his long orange hair falling over his face. A red feather adorned the shoulder plate of his armor, swaying gently with each movement.
Captain Erber.
He said nothing as Caldras gave his full report — nor did he react to the shame that poured from his subordinate's mouth. When it ended, there was a long pause.
Then:
"I see…" Erber said softly. "So you were defeated… by trash."
He stepped forward with quiet, measured steps, boots echoing against stone. Caldras didn't dare look up.
Erber came to a stop just before him.
Then, with a disturbingly gentle hand, he rested his palm on Caldras's head.
"Then that makes you even worse than trash."
The instant the words left his lips, flames erupted.
FWOOOM.
Caldras didn't even have time to scream properly. Fire engulfed him, whirling up in a blaze of blue and red. The heat rippled outward in a single violent burst—and then, silence.
Where Caldras had knelt was now just scorched stone and a pile of smoking armor.
In the back corner of the room, two lower-ranked soldiers, Oldot and Babel, watched with pale faces.
"C-Captain's Artifact sure is terrifying…" Oldot whispered, his mouth dry.
"Yeah," Babel added, barely above a breath. "An Artifact able to set anything ablaze" They said nothing more.
In the distance, wind howled through the broken rafters of the fortress. A vulture perched silently on a shattered window.
And beyond the walls…
A lone donkey pulled a small cart down a dirt road, dragging a boy through the dust, screaming his lungs out.
Unaware of the execution that had just taken place in the heart of the town he was heading toward.