✦ Inn — Mary's Door Opens
After several minutes of muttering, fabric rustling, and at least one frustrated, "WHY ARE THERE SO MANY STRAPS—oh. They go here,"
Mary finally stepped out of her room.
Her new outfit fit perfectly—
a sleek black-enchanted battle dress embroidered with silver thread, runic gloves, a fitted waist sash, and light boots that hugged her legs.
Lucilla whistled. "Well. Someone looks like they didn't spend all day hiding in pajamas."
Rhazor grinned. "Now you look like a real instructor again."
Mary crossed her arms, cheeks pink. "We agreed not to talk about the… incident."
Asura smiled warmly. "It looks really good on you."
Mary softened instantly. "Thanks. You three did well picking it out."
Inside Asura's mind—
[ ＳＹＳＴＥＭ : She does look good… I mean—professionally good! Instructor-level good! I wasn't jealous. Not at all. ]
[ ＡＥＴＨＥＲＢＯＲＮ : An unnecessary observation. Aesthetics do not affect combat potential. ]
[ ＳＹＳＴＥＭ : I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU. ]
Asura kept a straight face. "You'll feel better once you move around a bit."
Mary nodded. "Honestly, I'm just glad it's quiet now. I thought the tournament was still going."
Lucilla scratched her cheek. "Well… it was."
Rhazor held the shopping bag up. "Until it wasn't."
Mary frowned. "What happened? A fight? A riot? A fire? Did the announcer die? Please tell me the announcer didn't die—he sounded nice."
Lucilla rolled her eyes. "The village chief canceled it. Emergency situation."
Mary blinked. "Emergency? What—?"
Then she paused.
Looked at all three of them.
Narrowed her eyes.
"You're hiding something."
Asura inhaled quietly.
Lucilla muttered, "Here we go."
Mary pointed at them, dramatically. "Confess. What did you do while I was locked in self-inflicted pajama exile?"
Rhazor rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay—don't be mad—"
Asura quietly: "…I joined the tournament."
Mary froze like someone cast a petrification spell.
"You WHAT?!"
She grabbed his shoulders.
"When?! How!? I was gone for ONE MORNING!"
Lucilla snorted. "Honestly? It felt longer."
Mary whipped her attention between them. "Wait—if you were in the tournament… why didn't anyone recognize you? You're the Demon King's grandson!"
Rhazor nodded slowly, pointing. "Good question."
Lucilla added, "We've been thinking the same thing."
Asura lifted a hand. "I disguised myself."
Mary's jaw dropped. "Illusion magic?"
"No."
He closed his eyes and let the shimmer run through him—
Aether twisting, reshaping his horns, his hair length, his facial structure, even muscle density.
The disguise flickered briefly before vanishing again, returning him to normal.
Mary stared.
Lucilla and Rhazor stared.
"…That's not illusion," Lucilla murmured.
Rhazor nodded slowly. "Yeah. That's the real deal."
Mary blinked once. Twice. "Asura… you can appearance shift? Actually appearance shift?"
Asura shrugged. "A skill I got recently. Haven't used it much."
Mary paced in a panic. "Are you telling me I could have joined the tournament too!? We could've dominated the entire bracket together!?"
Lucilla muttered, "Really Mary?"
Rhazor laughed. "We told him not to stand out. So he stood out harder."
Mary pinched her nose. "I leave you alone for ONE day…"
✦ The Air Changes
Asura's smile faded.
Something in the air shifted—
so faint at first it felt like a whisper brushing the back of his mind.
Then it tightened, like invisible fingers gripping his lungs.
He turned toward the window slowly.
Lucilla noticed immediately. "Asura?"
Mary kept talking, tugging at her sleeve.
"—and next time, I swear I'm putting a lock on the—hey. Why'd you freeze?"
Asura's eyes unfocused.
Then—
the world shattered.
A brilliant Aether-blue flash ignited behind his vision, and his mind was yanked forward—
fast, violent, unstoppable.
Precognition (LV.10) activated.
Images poured in with brutal clarity:
—A wall exploding inward under the weight of a colossal claw.
—Screaming villagers scattering into smoke and fire.
—Adventurers crushed under obsidian limbs.
—Draen Valos swinging his space katana, tearing open rifts in midair—blood on his cheek.
—Seris burning her mana dry, wind spiraling out of control, eyes frantic.
—Gabe hauling two injured knights across broken stone, roaring at something unseen.
—Elzra chanting a teleportation spell—hands trembling, light cracking around the circle.
—An enormous shadow darkening the moon.
—A pair of glowing golden eyes burning through the horizon.
—The Abyssal Behemoth Dragon—
fully evolved, unchained, ancient fury dripping from its scales—
moving its head like a predator sniffing the wind.
—Searching.
—Following a trail.
—Following… him.
The future slammed shut.
The room snapped back.
Lucilla's voice broke the silence first. "Asura—?!"
Rhazor stepped forward instinctively. "Kid? You okay?"
Mary reached for him, panic flickering across her face. "Asura, say something!"
He blinked once.
Touched his temple.
"Oh. My precognition activated."
Every person in the room froze.
"…Your WHAT?" Mary demanded.
Lucilla blinked twice. "I'm sorry—your what activated?"
Rhazor sputtered, "Precog—when did—you have—SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE THAT?!"
Asura tilted his head, confused why they were confused.
"Oh I learnt it a while back," he said simply. "I thought I mentioned it."
Mary threw her hands up. "NO. YOU MOST DEFINITELY DID NOT MENTION THAT."
Lucilla stared at him, mouth open.
"Precognition, Asura. Future sight. You can't just casually 'forget' that."
Rhazor gestured wildly. "Do you know how rare that is!? Most people spend their whole lives trying to unlock a FRACTION of that! And you're just—what—treating it like a fun fact!?"
Asura blinked innocently.
"…Should I not?"
Mary grabbed his shoulders. "No, sweetheart. You absolutely should not."
He gently pried her hands off and inhaled slowly.
"Well I saw something."
All three fell silent.
"What," Lucilla asked quietly, "did you see?"
Asura closed his eyes.
"Battles. The convoy. The lieutenants. A dragon. The village in chaos."
Rhazor tensed. "Dragon as in—"
"As in the Abyssal Behemoth," Asura said softly. "Fully evolved."
Mary swallowed hard. "How… how soon?"
Asura turned toward the window.
Lantern light flickered in the glass.
The wind moved strangely again—cold, wrong.
"Too soon," he whispered. "Sooner than we want."
Inside his mind:
[ ＳＹＳＴＥＭ : H-Host… that wasn't symbolic. That was an actual, calculable future. And the danger level is—it's—it's… I don't want to say it… ]
[ ＡＥＴＨＥＲＢＯＲＮ : Say it. It's entertaining. ]
[ ＳＹＳＴＥＭ : It's catastrophic!! ]
[ ＡＥＴＨＥＲＢＯＲＮ : Mmm. Delicious chaos. Proceed. ]
Asura exhaled.
"We need to be careful," he said simply.
Lucilla placed a hand on his shoulder. "Right. Then we stick together."
Rhazor nodded. "And the village chief already started mobilizing. Something must've spooked him too."
Mary frowned, glancing toward the silent street outside.
"No tournament noise… barely any footsteps… it's too quiet."
Asura nodded once.
"I know," he whispered.
And for the first time since he arrived in this village—
the future felt close enough to touch.
✦ Village Entrance — Strange Silence
Night hadn't fallen yet—
but the village moved as if it already had.
Lanterns flickered to life all down the main road, one by one, like nervous fireflies testing the air. Their warm glow did nothing to comfort the people lighting them. Hands shook. Flames wavered in the wind.
Normally, this hour would be loud—children running, merchants yelling final deals, inns spilling booze and laughter into the street.
But now—
Mothers pulled their children indoors with hurried whispers.
Doors slammed shut.
Windows latched.
Wooden shutters barred.
A potter grabbed his stand in both arms and practically sprinted inside, clay rattling with every step. A baker shoved trays into a cart and slammed his shop door so fast the bell didn't even finish ringing.
The whole village folded inward like a frightened animal protecting its heart.
Adventurers—the seasoned ones, not the loud S-rank posers—walked stiffly through the torchlight.
They weren't smiling.
They weren't bragging.
Their armor didn't clatter—they kept it quiet.
One of them, a woman with a spear taller than she was, paused at the center of the street. She stared southward toward the dark horizon, her brows knitting tightly.
"Do you feel that?" she murmured to the swordsman beside her.
"It's just wind," he said.
But he didn't sound convinced.
The wind blew again—cold, heavy, carrying something metallic and old.
Not scent.
Not magic.
Pressure.
Like a giant exhaling from far away.
The swordsman gripped his hilt instinctively.
Up at the guard tower, two watchmen leaned over the railing. One squinted.
"The animals are restless," he muttered.
Below, stray dogs—usually playful pests—crept under porches, whining. Chickens scattered into barns. A pair of ravens shot from a rooftop and fled into the sky with frantic screeches.
The watchman swallowed hard. "Something's wrong out there."
"Captain's report said monsters," the other guard whispered. "Organized monsters."
"That's not possible… right?"
The second guard didn't answer.
Farther down the street, a squad of adventurers jogged past, weapons already drawn—not brandished, not raised—just carried, ready, hands tight around grips. They didn't look like they were going on a quest.
They looked like they were expecting an ambush.
A young merchant girl peeked out from behind a curtain, trembling. She whispered to her father:
"Papa… why is everyone scared?"
Her father closed the curtains gently and hugged her close.
"No reason, little star. Stay inside."
But his eyes stayed locked on the door, heart beating too fast.
The silence wasn't peaceful.
It wasn't calm.
It was the silence before a storm breaks open.
A heavy, crouched kind of quiet.
The kind that makes even seasoned fighters walk softer.
The kind that made lantern flames bow low, as if the air itself feared what was coming.
The village didn't know what was approaching.
But instinct told them one thing:
Tonight would not be normal.
Something vast was moving in the dark.
Closer each minute.
They felt it in their bones—
and in the way the wind kept shifting south, again and again…
toward the Rift.
Toward the monsters.
Toward Asura.
✦ Inn Room — Quiet, but Not Safe
Mary sat beside Asura on the bed. Lucilla and Rhazor checked weapons and packs.
"Asura," Mary said softly, "did you see us… in danger?"
Asura nodded once.
"But we were alive."
Mary let out a shaky breath. "Good."
Lucilla cracked her knuckles. "If something's coming, we meet it prepared."
Rhazor added, "And this time, none of us fight alone."
Asura smiled faintly.
Then turned his gaze to the window again.
The wind was blowing wrong again.
Cold.
From the south.
From the Rift.
From the future he saw.
"…They're coming," he murmured.
No one argued.
No one doubted him.
Because when Asura's Precognition spoke—
the world listened.