A month had passed.
In the village chief's office, sunlight filtered gently through a wide window, filling the room with a soft golden glow, scattered across piles of papers and exquisite wooden furniture.
Nelson, a short, dark-skinned man, sat behind the desk, dressed in an elegant blue uniform reflecting his authority and position. His stern features spoke of disciplined intellect and the wisdom of experience.
Standing before him were two individuals:
Harry, a man in his forties, with a thick black beard and eyes as dark and deep as the night, dressed in simple green clothes that reflected his humility.
Toji, a thirteen-year-old boy with messy brown hair and brown eyes shining with insatiable curiosity, wearing a short-sleeved blue shirt and simple trousers.
Suddenly, Ten, Rin, and Kazuma entered the office, and their presence seemed to shift the air, as if the moment carried immense expectations.
Nelson smiled and spoke in a deep, commanding voice:
— Well done. Everyone is present now.
Ten responded with a mixture of surprise and relief:
— Harry… you're here too.
Harry smiled, meeting the gaze of his old friend:
— My old friend…
Nelson interrupted sharply, leaving no room for argument:
— Enough side talk. Let's get to the point.
He raised his hand, pointing to the map spread across the desk:
— You all know why we've gathered here. On the border between Thunder Village and Fire Village, there is a chest containing highly confidential books.
Kazuma's eyes widened like sparks igniting, looking at Nelson:
— Are they really that important?
Nelson replied with grave seriousness:
— Yes. These books must not fall into the wrong hands. In Fire Village, there are many scholars who would wish to keep them, but this chest belongs to us.
Rin's eyes lit up with curiosity:
— Could you at least tell us what's inside?
Nelson leaned toward her, voice sharp:
— Are your ears working? I said it's confidential.
Toji, never one to restrain his curiosity, whispered:
— And what if we open the chest?
Nelson smiled slyly, a hidden threat wrapped in the gesture:
— It's rigged… open it, and it will explode.
Then he added, in a calm yet ominous tone:
— We trust you… but beware. There is a gang near the border, called the Scorpion Gang.
Kazuma shivered slightly, responding with concern:
— The Scorpion Gang…
Nelson nodded without softening the gravity of his words:
— Yes, drug traffickers. Among our fiercest enemies. But don't worry; as far as I know, you can handle them.
Rin exhaled, her voice laced with quiet concern:
— We'll do our best.
Harry lowered his voice to a murmur, gazing at the ground:
— I heard they used to live in our village…
Nelson replied dryly:
— Mere rumors.
Toji, burning with excitement, said:
— Let me handle them! Just give me a chance!
Ten interjected seriously, firmly:
— Any fight with them could end in disaster… focus on one thing: the chest.
Nelson stood, pointing to the detailed route on the map:
— You will travel through the Florin path, a vast desert area filled with caves and cliffs. At its end, you will reach the gate of Fire Village, where the guards will hand you the chest, then you return.
Rin shivered slightly, speaking with quiet concern:
— Is there a time limit?
Nelson replied with strict gravity:
— No fixed time… but beware. Those caves are gang territory. Many we sent… never returned.
Kazuma's eyes opened wide, his brows furrowed with determination:
— A secret chest and a deadly gang… this sounds like an exciting adventure.
Nelson smiled grimly, planting the weight of responsibility on them:
— Frankly… the gang leader was once one of us, but he committed an unforgivable crime. We dealt with him.
---
Outside, they stood before a wooden cart pulled by dark oxen, a brown horse tied alongside it.
Nelson said:
— Don't disappoint me.
They boarded the cart. The driver wore a white mask and a blue-striped shirt.
Kazuma looked at him, curious:
— Why the mask? It's blazing hot…
Nelson replied briefly:
— Leave him be, Kazuma. He doesn't speak much.
Kazuma reclined, surrendering to laziness, while the scorching heat made the world seem to melt beneath their feet.
---
The cart continued across the vast desert, where nothing existed but scorching sands, deep caves, and steep cliffs.
On an eastern mountain, a black shoe stood on the edge. The camera slowly moved upward to reveal legs, a torso, and a mysterious figure entirely clad in black, wrapped carefully in a dark scarf and hat casting shadows, a mask hiding his features, holding the scarf's edge with his right hand, a symbol of control and secrecy.
---
Inside the cart, Ten and Harry slept, exhausted, while Kazuma, Toji, and Rin sweated profusely, affected by the relentless heat of the desert.
The driver whispered softly:
— We're about to arrive.
Kazuma suddenly sat up, eyes shining with excitement:
— Really? Where's the gate?
They saw a massive wooden gate engraved with strange symbols, gleaming under the scorching sun.
Rin sighed, placing her hand on her forehead:
— I need water… I can't endure this heat.
Toji, on the verge of fainting, whispered:
— My throat… it's dry…
The cart passed between immense cliffs until it reached the village entrance. Fires illuminated the area, the ground paved with gray stones, and market stalls neatly aligned.
Kazuma and Toji jumped from the cart, eyes gleaming with excitement:
— Let's explore!
Toji smiled:
— I'm with you! Let's go!
Rin sighed anxiously:
— Wait! You'll get lost!
Toji laughed:
— Calm down. We'll be fine.
Kazuma and Toji stopped in front of a butcher. Their mouths watered in anticipation of food.
The butcher asked:
— Where are you from, kids?
Toji's eyes sparkled:
— From Thunder Village!
The butcher smiled:
— Ah, from Thunder, huh?
Toji grinned again:
— Is the meat cooked yet?
The butcher laughed, as if this scene were just part of an ordinary day in a lively village.
---
"Ha ha," they approached.
The elderly man handed them two pieces of food, his eyes gleaming with gentle warmth.
The butcher smiled, his voice calm and kind:
— Here… for free.
Kazuma laughed shyly, a faint blush hidden by his smile:
— Ha ha… thanks, sir… we didn't have any money.
Toji whispered mischievously:
— Were you planning to steal it?
Kazuma smiled, eyes twinkling with playful mischief:
— Maybe…
Suddenly, the air snapped with a sharp sound, like a sudden lightning strike:
— "Stay away from him."
They turned quickly to see Ten standing before them, eyes charged with coldness and authority, as if the entire place had frozen under his gaze.
The butcher whispered softly, overwhelmed by Ten's presence:
— Ten…
Ten stepped forward with measured steps, his voice full of suppressed anger:
— Couldn't you find another vendor?
The butcher fell silent, frozen under the power in his voice.
Kazuma stuffed his mouth, speaking quickly:
— What's the problem? He's kind.
Ten gripped Kazuma and Toji by the shoulders, firmly but without harming them, as if carrying the weight of years of suppressed anger:
— If you knew what he did, you'd despise him.
The butcher trembled, shouting from the depths of his heart:
— You still hold that in your heart?
Ten looked at him, cold and resolute:
— You stabbed me… betrayed our family.
The butcher stammered, trying to justify the past:
— That was long ago…
Ten's eyes blazed, sharp as knives:
— I will never forget what you did.
---
Later, they sat under a small tent, shielded from the burning sun, at a wooden table with five neatly arranged chairs, a testament to the convergence of their intertwined fates.
Kazuma, observing Ten with curiosity, asked:
— Do you know him?
Toji responded with childlike innocence, his heart refusing to bow to harsh reality:
— Was he a friend… or something like that?
Ten stared at the table silently, as if his thoughts were trapped between past and present, before replying heavily:
— I wish he were just a friend.
Kazuma's curiosity intensified:
— What do you mean?
Ten inhaled deeply, placing his hands on the table as if weighing the burden on his heart:
— He was my older brother… but he did something I can never forgive.
Kazuma shivered slightly:
— What did he do?
Ten's eyes blazed again, as if holding a suppressed volcano:
— I don't wish to speak of it.
He stepped back, tapping the table with his fingers, each beat echoing like the pulse of his angry heart, resonating with old pain:
— Just thinking about it… makes my blood boil.
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating, before Ten slowly lifted his head, eyes burning with fury and control:
— Leave.
Toji hesitated, asking:
— And you?
Ten replied coldly and firmly:
— I'll speak to him… alone.
Kazuma tried to object, frowning:
— No… can we really leave you alone?
Their eyes locked on Ten, who responded with a sharp gaze devoid of mercy:
— Go… I'll be fine.
Kazuma and Toji hesitated for a moment, then nodded, swallowed by worry.
Kazuma whispered:
— If anything happens… call us.
Toji smiled faintly, trying to calm himself despite the anxiety in his chest:
— Perhaps he had his reasons.
Ten smiled slightly, a ray of light piercing the darkness of his anger:
— Don't worry… it's just a conversation.
Kazuma and Toji stepped back, while Ten advanced, each step carrying t
he weight of the past and his suppressed rage, as if the ground beneath his feet burned slowly. His anger blazed in his eyes, his silent face telling the story of an unhealed wound, his hands gripping the table as though they could scream what words could not.