The morning sun filtered through the guild's tall glass windows, painting golden streaks across the polished stone floor. Ren stood quietly near the quest counter, pretending to glance through a board of new postings while his system interface pulsed faintly before his eyes.
[System Notification]
Quest Completed: Forest Menace – Rampaging Boar
Reward: 2× Skill Scrolls (Unidentified)
Ren's lips curved into a faint smile, though he kept his expression neutral. Two skill scrolls, huh? He thought silently, careful not to draw attention. That should come in handy later… but I'll keep that to myself for now.
He swiped the notification aside, only for another to appear immediately after—
[System Notification]
Quest Completed: Hobgoblin Subjugation (Cooperative)
Reward: 3,000 EXP
Additional Reward: 8× Potential Potions — permanently enhances the user's natural growth aptitude to its limit.
Ren froze for a moment. "...Eight?" he muttered under his breath.
Lyra, standing nearby sorting her equipment, looked over. "Did you say something?"
He quickly shook his head. "Nothing. Just… thinking about how fast things escalated lately."
She chuckled softly. "That's an understatement."
He smiled faintly, but his thoughts were already elsewhere.Eight Potential Potions… those are priceless. I'll keep them safe. Mira and others could use them someday. I can't waste something like this yet.
He closed the system screen, tucking away the bottles as soon as they materialized in his inventory space. Each vial shimmered faintly with golden-blue light, filled with liquid potential itself.
The guild hall was calmer now, though faint murmurs about the corrupted crystal still spread among the adventurers. Kara was in her office, most likely filing the incident report, and the examiner had already left for the royal institute to study the phenomenon further.
Ren stretched slightly, his body still feeling the subtle rush of new power since his mana expansion. The faint hum of energy was stronger now—sharper, more vibrant—but he'd grown used to it.
Lyra approached, her quiver full and her new bow strapped across her back. "Ready to head back?" she asked, adjusting her gloves.
Ren nodded. "Yeah. It's been two days since I last checked home. I should see how things are."
They walked side by side through the busy main street, passing the morning market stalls and smithy lines. The familiar rhythm of the town life returned after days of tension—children running around, merchants shouting prices, adventurers boasting of their kills.
As they crossed the bridge leading toward the outer residential path, Lyra spoke, her tone soft. "You've been… quieter since yesterday. Something bothering you?"
Ren glanced at her, then looked back ahead. "Just thinking about what happened in the cave… and that crystal. Some things don't add up yet."
Lyra's expression turned thoughtful. "Yeah… that skeleton being there still feels wrong."
Ren nodded, his voice calm. "We'll find out in time."
The gentle wind carried the scent of pine and soil as they left the town's main road, following the narrow forest path toward the hills where Ren's home stood. The rustle of leaves and the distant sound of birds replaced the noise of civilization, and for the first time in days, peace settled in.
Lyra glanced at him, smiling faintly. "You really live out here, huh? It's quiet."
Ren's lips curved slightly. "That's why I like it."
They continued walking side by side—the sunlight breaking through the canopy in scattered rays—until the distant outline of Ren's house came into view through the trees.
For the first time in what felt like ages, he exhaled slowly. "Finally… home."
Lyra smiled gently beside him. "Let's get some rest before the next storm finds us."
The forest path glimmered softly as they walked toward the house, unaware that far beyond the hills, dark clouds were already gathering once more.
The small house came into view at the bend of the forest path—its wooden frame sturdy yet humble, the garden beside it still carrying traces of care. Smoke rose faintly from the chimney, and the faint laughter of children echoed faintly in the wind.
Ren slowed his steps. The familiar sight brought warmth to his chest.Home… finally.
But as soon as he stepped past the small wooden gate, the laughter stopped.Every sound—birds, wind, even the hum of insects—seemed to vanish.
Standing at the doorway were seven figures.
Mira, the eldest at twelve, her chestnut hair tied in a messy braid, stood in front with a mixture of relief and fury burning in her eyes. Beside her were Toma and Elri, the twin siblings clinging to each other, while Nia, Finn, Rye, and little Lani peeked from behind, their faces pale and teary.
Ren barely opened his mouth before—
"Ren!"
Mira's voice cracked. "Where were you!? You didn't come home for two days! We heard about the goblin subjugation!" Her voice shook, the last words breaking. "The guild said dozens joined but didn't say who!"
Ren blinked, startled. "Wait—how did you—"
"Everyone in town was talking about it!" Finn interrupted, his small fists trembling. "They said it was dangerous—that some people didn't come back!"
"Y-you could have been hurt too!" Nia's voice wavered, and tears began to fall down her cheeks.
Before Ren could say a word, they all rushed forward, surrounding him in a desperate wave of warmth and tears.
Lyra stood by the gate, unsure for a moment, before kneeling down and trying to comfort the smaller children who had latched onto her as well. Lani clung to her skirt, hiccuping, while Elri buried her face against Lyra's shoulder, crying.
Ren froze for a second—then smiled weakly, resting a hand on Mira's head. "Hey… it's okay. I'm home now."
"You idiot…" Mira mumbled into his chest, her voice shaking. "You promised… you said you'd always come back…"
Ren's eyes softened. "And I did, didn't I?"
But even as he said that, a flicker of guilt passed through his heart. Two days… and they were alone the whole time.
He looked at their faces—some streaked with tears, some red from crying too long—and the realization hit him harder than any battle. They weren't just worried. They were terrified.
Terrified that history was about to repeat itself.
Mira clenched his sleeve tighter, her voice trembling as she whispered, "Mom and Dad didn't come back either… two years ago. It was a monster attack too…"
Ren's throat tightened.He knelt slowly, pulling all of them closer, his voice calm and steady even though his heart ached.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should've told you before leaving. But I'll never disappear like that again, okay? I'll always come back."
The words hung in the air, heavy yet comforting.
Lyra watched quietly, the faintest hint of emotion flickering in her eyes. She'd never seen Ren like this—his stoic composure replaced by something… deeply human.
When the tears finally began to settle, Mira wiped her eyes and glanced toward Lyra. "You were with him, right?"
Lyra nodded gently. "Yes. He wasn't alone."
"Thank you." Mira managed a small, wobbly smile. "For keeping him safe."
Lyra's lips curved faintly. "He doesn't make that easy."
Ren sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Oi."
That broke the tension just enough for a few chuckles to escape. The younger ones began to settle down, sniffling but calmer now, the fear easing from their eyes.
Inside, the house smelled faintly of stew—Mira must've been cooking earlier. Ren took in the familiar warmth of the home, then glanced toward Lyra.
"Come in," he said quietly. "You're staying with us from now on. I want everyone to know that."
Lyra blinked in surprise, then smiled softly, bowing her head slightly to the children. "I'll do my best."
Mira raised an eyebrow but didn't argue—perhaps sensing the sincerity in Lyra's tone.
As the evening sun painted the room in orange and gold, Ren leaned against the wall, watching his family settle around the table. The laughter began to return, tentative at first, then genuine.
For a moment, peace reigned again.
But in the back of Ren's mind, the flicker of the corrupted crystal and the dead researcher's skeleton still lingered. Something darker was moving in the world—and this calm, fragile happiness was something he swore to protect, no matter the cost.