A few minutes later, the door creaked open. Bright morning light spilled across the threshold.
Landre emerged first, tugging her worn shawl close around her shoulders with practiced ease as the fabric settled into familiar folds. Vel followed, the door's lock clicking into place behind them.
She immediately took his hand, her small fingers wrapping around his. Vel felt a momentary awkwardness - he hadn't held hands with anyone in years. Then he remembered: this was Landre, his sister. Like Hanna. His expression softened imperceptibly.
They started walking down a well-worn path. Their boots left shallow prints in the damp earth.
"Come on," Landre beckoned, already a few steps ahead.
Vel glanced back at their house—a simple, rectangular structure of roughly hewn logs and daub. The thatched roof looked uneven, patched in several places.
"Watch your step." Landre pointed at a particularly muddy patch.
Vel sidestepped the puddle, his gaze drawn to the bustling movement visible at the alley's end. People crossed back and forth through the gap like shadows in a puppet show, their forms cut off by the narrow walls.
The air carried a mix of scents - wet earth, fresh straw, something cooking nearby. Each breath filled his lungs with the raw reality of this place.
"Where did you want to go?" Landre's voice cut through his thoughts.
Vel suddenly felt a pang of restriction as he looked at the rain barrel and woven baskets lining the path. A loss of the freedom he was used to. But then he reminded himself: he was in a child's body now. He had to adapt.
He stayed silent, mind racing through possibilities. What could he do in this situation? But this was also an opportunity. Landre, as his sister, would likely know more about this world - his world - better than anyone.
"Landre, what's the history of our village?"
She stopped walking, turning to face him with widened eyes.
"What's gotten into you, Vel?" Her voice carried a note of concern. "Why... why aren't you calling me 'Lan-neechan' anymore? Are you... still upset?"
Morning light caught her features, and Vel found himself staring. Her blonde hair formed an intricate crown of braids that gleamed golden. She wore an outfit similar to their mother's - white long-sleeved undershirt beneath a blue dress, with leather covering her torso. The craftsmanship showed in detailed stitching, cinched at her waist by a leather belt. His heart stuttered at the sight, caught between aesthetic appreciation and an uncomfortable awareness.
"Sorry, I guess I haven't fully recovered from... what happened. It seems some memories are still finding their way back."
A frown creased her brow, guilt darkening her expression. "You really don't remember it?" she asked softly.
Vel shook his head, feigning confusion.
Landre sighed, eyes dropping to the ground. "We... we had a fight."
"Right before the bells rang." She looked back up at him, her blue eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and regret.
"And then… you ran away."
Vel looked at Landre, seeing the weight of guilt in her eyes. "A fight?" he asked softly, trying to sound genuinely curious. "What… what was it about?"
Landre hesitated, her gaze shifting to the dirt path beneath their feet.
"It was… about this," she mumbled, reaching into the neckline of her dress and pulling out a small, roughly carved piece of wood.
It was a complex design: a large triangle framing a smaller, inverted triangle, all enclosed within a rough circle divided into six segments. One of the lines dividing the segments was jagged and uneven.
"I… I was trying to make an amulet," she continued.
Vel's brow furrowed. He recognized the symbol. Something felt off about it. He couldn't place it.
"I was using your knife," Landre continued, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers tracing the jagged line on the wooden carving. "The one father gave you. The one with the wolf's head. And… I messed it up." She looked up at him, her eyes pleading for understanding. "I chipped the blade. Trying to get this part just right."
"You know what my dream is, Vel," she said, her voice filled with a quiet intensity. "I want to become a Saint. To serve the… to serve and help people in our village." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "So I need to start working for the church. This… this amulet was supposed to be a symbol of my commitment. A way to show them I'm serious."
She looked down at the damaged carving again, her expression filled with disappointment. "And then… you got so angry. You said… I was always messing with your things, that I didn't respect them. And then you just… left." She looked back at him, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I tried to call you back, but you wouldn't listen. And then… the bells started ringing."
"Where…where's the knife?" Vel asked, his voice soft.
Landre's expression turned even more apologetic.
"You… you were so angry," she mumbled, her gaze dropping to the dirt path beneath their feet. "You threw it. At me."
She reached into a small pocket in her dress and pulled out the sheathed knife, offering it to him.
"Here."
Vel took the knife. The smooth leather of the sheath felt familiar in his hand. This Vel is one freaking dumb kid, he thought, shaking his head slightly. He examined the sheath, noting the worn edges and the faint scratches on the leather. Then, he carefully drew the knife. The blade was indeed chipped near the tip, a small but noticeable imperfection that marred the otherwise well-maintained edge. He looked back at Landre, his expression softening.
"You know, Lan-neechan," he said gently, using the familiar term she'd mentioned earlier, "from now on, if you want anything, simply tell me. Don't hold back. I promise I'll never lose my temper over things like this again. Not once."
He paused, then added,
"In fact… you can keep the knife."
Landre's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise and then a hesitant joy in them.
"No," she said quickly, shaking her head, her blonde braids swaying slightly. "It's yours. It was father's gift to you. I can't take it."
Despite her words, a small smile played on her lips, and Vel could see she was clearly pleased by the offer.
"So," Vel began, shifting the knife in his hand. "After I… ran off… what happened then? With the bells and everything?"
Landre waved a hand dismissively, her good mood seemingly restored.
"Oh, that," she said, her voice lighter. "It's all right now. What were you asking me again, Vel?"
"The story of our village," Vel replied.
"Right." They resumed walking. "Oakhaven is about forty years old. Still young compared to most settlements."
"How did it start?" Vel asked.
"It was founded during the Expansion. The kingdom was trying to extend its territory beyond the central regions," Landre explained, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Why did they need to expand?" Vel pressed, sensing there was more to the story.
Landre glanced at him with slight surprise, then her expression softened. It wasn't often her little brother showed interest in history.
"Well," she began, her voice taking on a storyteller's cadence, "Lona is the central city of the kingdom—massive place with those huge walls you hear about in stories. But it grew too big over time. The foundation simply couldn't support the population anymore. People found themselves with nowhere to live."
She gestured toward the horizon. "So new settlements were ordered to be built, farther and farther away from the capital."
"Are we still part of the kingdom then?" Vel asked. The question seemed to come naturally, even though he already knew the answer from his game design.
"By royal decree, yes," Landre replied. "We're under Iz'mir's protection, but out here..." She trailed off, her expression darkening. "This is unmanned territory. Dangerous. Some villages do well—they get support from the crown, soldiers, supplies. Others aren't so lucky."
Her voice dropped slightly. "Iz'mir's borders are vast, but most of it remains unexplored. Monsters, bandits... they're a constant threat to places like ours."
Something didn't add up. In the game, Lona was designed to be self-sustaining. Its strategic location and abundant resources meant it shouldn't have had issues with overpopulation.
A frown creased Vel's brow as he tried to reconcile this contradiction.
"Do you know the King's name?" Vel asked suddenly.
"Of course," Landre replied, looking at him strangely. "Everyone knows that. King Korivan Garnos the Seventh."
"The Seventh?" Vel repeated, his mind racing. The Awakened update had mentioned a General Garnos, a key figure who provided assistance to players and offered multiple questlines. Don't tell me…
"How long has it been since the first Garnos King?" Vel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"About five hundred years, I think," Landre replied, shrugging slightly.
A strange feeling washed over Giri. Five hundred years. Five centuries had passed since the events of the Awakened update. No wonder the world was so different. No wonder Lona was overcrowded. Five hundred years was an eternity in game terms. Entire empires could rise and fall in that time.
Everything I know about this world is obsolete, he realized grimly. This changes everything.
"Why are you suddenly so interested in all this, Vel?" Landre asked, tilting her head slightly. "It's not like you can understand all of it."
Vel scrambled for an excuse. He couldn't tell her the truth—that he was from another world and knew the history of this place from a game. He needed something believable, something a child might say.
"I… I just want to know more about where we live," he stammered, trying to sound innocent. "Mom always tells stories about the kingdom, about Lona and the King. I just… wanted to know more about how it all connects to us." He added quickly, "Especially after… you know… what happened. It made me think."
"Maybe… maybe I want to visit Lona," Vel said, the idea suddenly solidifying in his mind. A city as vast and important as Lona… it had to hold answers. Perhaps even a way back to his own world.
Landre stopped walking abruptly, turning back to face Vel, her expression a mix of surprise and gentle mockery.
"What?" she asked, a slight incredulity in her voice.
"There's no chance for us there, Vel," she continued, shaking her head slightly. "How are you even going to make a living in Lona? It's… it's a completely different world."
She paused, her expression softening slightly.
"For me," she said, looking off into the distance, "unless I get accepted by the church and climb the ranks… maybe, one day, I could provide a place for our family there. But as for us… right now…" She trailed off, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand.
The thought of her own ambitions seemed to take hold of Landre's mind, her gaze becoming distant as she drifted into her own thoughts.
As they both stood there, lost in their own contemplations, a firm shout echoed through the village. It came from a group of guards, gathered in neat lines near the center of the settlement.
"Look, it's Father," Landre said, her attention snapping back to the present.
Vel looked over. A group of guards stood at attention, saluting a man standing on a raised wooden platform. He was likely the Chief of the village, judging by the way he commanded the guards' attention, meticulously ensuring their lines were straight and their posture perfect.
The announcement, Vel thought, remembering the guard's words to Von.
He nudged Landre and nodded toward the crowd. Sharing a curious glance, they joined the villagers converging on the square.
Vel did a quick headcount. There were roughly thirty guards in total, all wearing similar, functional-looking armor – perhaps boiled leather reinforced with metal plates at the shoulders and knees. He scanned the lines, trying to spot Von, but couldn't pick him out. He'd only seen the man once this morning, after all, and that was through Vel's eyes, not his own.
"There," Landre whispered, pointing discreetly. "Fifth from the right, second row."
The crowd hushed as the Chief raised his hand, signaling for silence. He stood tall on the wooden platform, his voice clear and authoritative as it carried across the village square.
"Residents of Oakhaven," he began, his gaze sweeping across the assembled villagers, "I have called you here today to address a matter of grave importance."
He paused, his expression becoming more serious.
"As you all know, a portal has manifested nearby. This is not a trivial matter. It's a significant threat to the very existence of our village. A threat of… life and death. Many settlements have perished due to similar occurrences."
A wave of worried whispers rippled through the crowd.
"I have consulted with our Seers," the Chief continued, his voice regaining its firmness, "and we have devised a plan. We will attempt to make contact with the Adventurers' Guild in Elnor, the nearest town. Hopefully," he added, a hint of hope in his voice, "we can persuade some skilled adventurers to come and close the portal."
He paused again, his gaze briefly shifting towards the lines of guards.
"In the meantime," he said, his voice becoming more stern, "I urge everyone to remain vigilant. All children will be monitored strictly." He paused, his gaze lingering on Von for a moment, but the guard remained impassive, his posture ramrod straight. "Any activity outside the village walls will require an escort of at least two guards. In the worst-case scenario, we will be forced to perform another ritual."
He addressed the guards directly.
"The rest of you, please spread this news to anyone who is not yet aware. You are dismissed. Return to your duties."
The guards saluted in unison before dispersing, some moving to spread the word throughout the village, others resuming their patrols. The crowd of villagers began to disperse as well, murmuring amongst themselves.
Von noticed them approaching and a warm smile spread across his face.
"Vel! Landre!" he called out, his voice booming slightly. He opened his arms and both children ran to him, embracing him tightly.
"Did you hear the Chief's announcement?" he asked, his voice now softer as he held them close.
"Yes, Father," Landre replied, nodding solemnly.
"We did," Vel added, his mind still reeling from the implications of the portal.
Their father sighed, his expression turning grave. He knelt down, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.
"Things are going to be different for a while," he said, his voice low and serious. "Because of this… portal… things are more dangerous now. You both need to be extra careful."
He looked at them, his eyes filled with concern.
"No going outside the walls without a guard, understand? Not even to the edge of the forest. And stay close to home. I don't want either of you wandering off."
He paused, then added,
"This… this isn't like the usual monster sightings. This is… different. This could be very serious."
"Yes, Father," Landre replied, nodding solemnly.
Vel nodded as well, but his mind was racing. Portals… creatures… He knew exactly what that meant. This was his creation, after all. He'd designed the lore, the monsters, the very fabric of this world. He knew what kinds of horrors could crawl through those rifts between dimensions.
"What makes this different, Father?" Vel asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "You said it's not like the usual monster sightings."
Their father sighed, his gaze drifting towards the distant hills.
"The usual monster sightings," he explained, his voice low, "are… well, they're usually just beasts. Animals driven out of the forest, or perhaps some stray creature that's wandered too far from its territory. We can usually handle them with a few guards."
He looked back at them, his expression grave.
"But this… this is a portal. Not just some magical occurrence or a stray beast. It's a tear in the fabric of reality. It connects… other places. Other realities."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"Things that come through portals… they aren't bound by the natural laws of this world. They can be… anything. Beasts, yes, but also… other things. Things we don't understand. Things that are… unnatural."
He lowered his voice even further, almost to a whisper.
"Some say that portals can even bring forth creatures from the Outer Void. Things that drive men mad just by looking at them."
So, at least this hasn't changed much from the game, Vel thought. Everything their father had mentioned—the distinction between normal monsters and portal creatures, the whispers of the Outer Void—it was all consistent with the lore he'd created for Aeonalus.
"Father," Vel asked, tilting his head slightly, "do you know any… martial arts?"
His father chuckled, a warm sound that Vel hadn't heard in… well, he couldn't remember.
"Yes," his father replied. "I know a few sword art moves. Why? Are you interested in learning?"
Vel played along, a small smile forming on his face.
"Yes, Father," he said enthusiastically. "What's the strongest move you can perform?"
His father puffed out his chest slightly, a hint of pride in his voice.
"Well," he said, "I can manage a few rounds of Whirlwind Blade and a decent Air Cutter."
Vel's eyes widened. These weren't basic moves. Normal village guards didn't usually possess special abilities like these.
"Can everyone else do that too?" Vel asked, trying to sound casual.
His father laughed, shaking his head.
"Of course not," he said, a touch of playful boasting in his voice. "Your father is special. It's just me and a few others who can perform those techniques."
So the average combat skills had not improved. This could only mean one thing – Von was an elite NPC, who possessed rare abilities compared to ordinary guards. But despite his father's exceptional talents, they still wouldn't be enough against what might emerge from the portal.
He knew this with certainty, because he had designed it. Portals were content created for coordinated players – adventurers who came prepared, worked together as a team, and sometimes relied on sheer luck. But most crucial of all was experience – the knowledge gained through trial and error. Oakhaven would never have that luxury.
If a confrontation erupted... how could he possibly help? He possessed the knowledge but lacked actual fighting experience – at least not in this visceral, all-too-real world. If he began explaining monster behaviors and vulnerabilities, they would dismiss him as delusional.
A stern voice cut through his thoughts.
"Von!"
The Chief stood with arms crossed, his expression severe.
"Didn't you hear my orders?"
Von straightened immediately, saluting. With an apologetic glance at his children, he hurried back to his post.
As Vel watched his father go, he noticed the Chief's gaze shift toward him. Their eyes met briefly before the Chief turned away and strode toward his cabin.
"We should head home," Landre said. "Mom will know about the news soon enough."
Vel nodded, but his mind remained on the portal. He needed to learn more about it – its size, its color, its behavior. Different portals brought different dangers. Some were manageable; others could destroy entire settlements within hours.
He needed to see it for himself, or at least find someone who had. Until then, all he had were fears and theories.
They walked back in silence, the weight of knowing too much and being able to say too little heavy on Vel's shoulders.
The days that followed the Chief's announcement were filled with a tense undercurrent of fear and uncertainty. The village, once a place of simple routines and quiet evenings, now buzzed with anxious whispers and watchful eyes.
(Day 1)
Boys Landre's age crowded the village square, eager to catch her attention. Elric demonstrated his archery, while Finn offered wildflowers gathered under guard escort from the forest's edge. She acknowledged them with brief courtesy, her thoughts distant. Their gestures earned only perfunctory smiles, leaving them red-faced before their peers. Being of marriageable age without a suitor didn't concern her - she devoted herself instead to studying ancient texts and prayers at the village shrine.
(Day 2)
Vel struggled with his adult mind trapped in a child's body. Basic tasks felt awkward, his muscle memory betraying him.
At the village notice board, he traced unfamiliar symbols with his finger, the truth dawning on him - he couldn't read. Though he understood the spoken language, its written form was alien. Giri, creator of Aeonalus, couldn't even read a simple word. He had designed the concept of language for the game, but the actual written form was a detail filled in by the world itself.
"What are you doing, Vel?" Landre asked, approaching him.
"I… I can't read this," he admitted, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck.
Landre tilted her head, then pointed to a few of the symbols.
"That's 'patrol,' and that one means 'north gate,'" she explained patiently.
(Day 3)
Whispers spread through Oakhaven like wildfire. Vel caught fragments of conversations as he passed through the village square - tales of strange lights in the forest, eerie sounds echoing from the watchtower at night.
"Like thunder, but not quite," one guard described. "More like... a crack in the air itself."
Vel's stomach tightened. He knew those sounds - the distinct pop of monsters spawning from a portal. In the game, each spawn was accompanied by a flash of light and a reality-bending crack. But if monsters were emerging, why hadn't anyone spotted them yet? The thought gnawed at him as he watched the guards patrol, their faces tense but oblivious to the true danger.
The messenger returned from Elnor, bringing promises of aid that felt hollow in their delay. Vel overheard his father discussing it with another guard.
"They say help is coming, but when?" Von's voice carried an edge of frustration.
At the shrine, Landre knelt in fervent prayer, her voice barely a whisper as she clutched her worn prayer book. Vel stood back, watching his sister's dedication while his mind raced with possibilities. He needed to see the portal, to assess its type and strength. But how could he investigate without raising suspicion? The weight of his knowledge pressed down on him, made heavier by his inability to act on it.
(Day 4)
Thick, low-hanging clouds blanketed the sky, turning the morning light gray and diffuse. The air was thick with moisture, promising rain.
Vel bounced up from his bed, instantly awake. Right, the Seers, he thought, the idea from the previous night returning in full force. They were the ones who had detected the portal's presence. They were the key. He needed to talk to them.
But how do I even start that conversation? he wondered. "Hey, I know you detected a reality-rending rift because I designed them in a video game"? Probably not the best opener.
He thought about asking Landre to help – she got along well with the elders and could make introductions. The house sat empty, its occupants already gone to their daily work.
No time like the present, he thought, tugging his thin tunic against the morning chill. If no one's home, no one can stop me. He smirked faintly, a glimpse of Giri's old confidence surfacing.
As Vel made his way through the village, Roen the baker spotted him from his shop doorway.
"Oi, Vel! There ya are!" the stout man grinned, flour dusting his apron. "Yer ma's turnips saved my stew last night. Catch yerself some breakfast!"
He tossed a small, freshly baked roll that Vel caught with both hands. The bread was still warm, its crust crackling slightly under his fingers.
"Thank you, sir!" Vel replied, the politeness coming naturally to him now.
A young girl of about eight peered around her father's legs, her eyes bright with curiosity.
"Hello, Vel!" she waved enthusiastically. "Papa's bread is the best, isn't it?"
"It sure is, Lili," Vel replied with a smile. He took a bite as he continued toward the village edge. By the time he reached the ancient oaks that had likely inspired Oakhaven's name, not a crumb remained.
The Seers' hut stood among the gnarled trees, their twisted branches clawing skyward while the air hung unnaturally still around them. Smoke wisped from the chimney – someone was home. After a brief pause, he steeled himself and approached the wooden door.
He raised his hand and knocked firmly.
No one answered. He knocked again, a little louder this time. Still nothing. Did I get the wrong house? he wondered, tilting his head to examine the moss-covered bark. It certainly matched the descriptions he'd heard. Or maybe no one's home after all.
As he turned to leave, he heard commotion near the village gate - excited chatter and confused murmurs rising above the usual quiet.
Vel headed toward the gate where a crowd had gathered. Through the entrance came a group of strangers, their exotic features and vibrant outfits standing out among the villagers like tropical birds among sparrows.
As he got a better look, Vel quickly scanned the newcomers. There were four of them.
A massive man led them, muscles rippling beneath animal furs, his bald head marked with prominent veins.
Behind him stood a figure in a white-trimmed green robe, a leather book strapped to his back.
Next was a woman in fine leather armor, wearing a feathered wide-brimmed hat and carrying a hand crossbow at her belt. Her sharp features radiated confidence.
The last wore full plate armor, her short brown hair and determined expression visible above it. A greatsword rose from her back.
Vel noticed they each displayed a square trinket - some on chains, others on belts or pinned to their chests.
No mistaking it, Vel thought, pulse racing. It's an Adventurer's Card - the official badge of registered adventurers in Aeonalus.
The Chief noticed the newcomers and stepped forward to greet them, accompanied by the village Seers, which explained Vel's earlier difficulty in finding him. After a brief exchange, the Chief returned to the wooden platform, raising his hand to address the gathered villagers.
"People of Oakhaven," he announced, his voice booming across the square, "I present to you the adventurers who have graciously answered our call for aid."
He gestured to each of them in turn, introducing them one by one, starting with the lowest rank and working his way up.
"These two brave individuals, both of Silver Rank, are Mora the Hunter and Bestiel the Cleric."
Mora, the woman in leather armor, gave a small, confident nod, while Bestiel, the robed man, offered a polite bow.
"Next, we have Honka, a Gold Rank Monk, whose strength and skill will be invaluable in the challenges ahead."
Honka, the bald, muscular man, grinned broadly, flexing his biceps to a few cheers from the crowd.
Finally, the Chief turned to the woman in full plate armor.
"And leading this valiant group, we have Clara, a Knight of Platinum Rank."
Clara simply stood at attention, her posture unwavering, her expression composed. She offered no smile, no boastful gesture. Just a quiet, unwavering presence.
The villagers erupted in applause, grateful for the arrival of these skilled warriors. Mora, Bestiel, and Honka visibly basked in the attention, striking heroic poses and exchanging excited glances. Clara, however, remained unmoved, her composure unshaken by the crowd's enthusiasm.
Such composure, Vel thought, impressed. Fitting of a Platinum Rank.
As the applause began to die down, Vel muttered to himself, a dry remark escaping his lips.
"So," he murmured, barely audible, "this is going to be a four-man raid."