"Mom… mom! Uncle Ru got into trouble again." Four-year-old Arelus called out, his small voice carrying through the air as he chewed on some chestnuts, his expression oddly calm despite the urgency of his words—like a child already accustomed to chaos he could not yet fully understand.
Aila immediately stopped her work, her hands freezing mid-motion as a flicker of concern crossed her face. Without hesitation, she stepped out of the restaurant. "Where is he?" she asked her son, her voice steady, though her heart had already begun to race.
Arelus lifted his tiny hand and pointed toward Ms. Anya's noodle shop.
"Stay here," she instructed gently but firmly. Arelus obeyed at once, sitting down without protest, watching his mother with quiet trust.
Aila moved quickly, her steps instinctively quickening the moment she saw the crowd gathering. The murmurs, the tension in the air—it all told her what she already feared.
People were gathered around the noodle shop, their eyes fixed on the ongoing fight between Ru and a group of thugs, the air thick with unease and anticipation.
Her chest tightened.
Aila pushed forward, her pace turning urgent as she reached the scene.
Ru was about to strike a thug with a stick, his anger burning fiercely, but before the blow could land, Aila grabbed his clothes and pulled him back. With swift precision, she snatched the stick from his hand and hurled it away.
The stick flew through the air with frightening force and pierced through the wooden wall of the noodle shop.
For a brief moment, everything fell silent.
Even the wind seemed to pause.
Everyone stood frozen, their breaths caught in their throats as they stared at Aila.
Fear replaced the chaos.
The fight stopped instantly.
"They were causing trouble again…" Ru began, his voice faltering slightly as he met Aila's furious gaze. "…Fine, I'll go back now."
He quickly fixed his clothes, trying to regain composure, and walked toward their restaurant. But even as he retreated, his eyes flicked back toward the thugs lying on the ground—his fists twitching, his anger not yet fully spent.
Aila exhaled slowly, trying to steady the storm within her.
"I'm sorry for my brother's actions," she said, her tone controlled, though her frustration lingered beneath it. She handed the thugs three silver coins, a quiet gesture of compensation, though it did little to soothe the tension that still lingered in the air.
Without another word, she turned and left.
Inside the restaurant, the familiar scent of food wrapped around Aila, grounding her once more. Young Alerus followed closely behind her, his small footsteps soft against the floor. Ru was already there, seated, unusually quiet.
"I told you to stay out of trouble," Aila said, placing her hands on her waist as she faced him, her eyes filled with both anger and concern.
"They were pressing the people to pay again," Ru replied, his voice heavy with restrained emotion. "They were barely surviving, and they kept taking from them. I can't just pretend I didn't see their cruelty."
Aila closed her eyes for a brief moment and exhaled, the weight of his words pressing against her heart.
"I understand where you're coming from," she said, her voice softer now, though still firm. "But if we challenge them, we will have to face all of them. Those thugs work for the Stone Bandits. We can't afford trouble, Ru. Do you understand me?"
Ru stared at the ground, his silence filled with conflict, his fists slowly unclenching.
"Do you understand?" Aila asked again, her voice gentler this time, but no less serious.
Ru nodded.
It was quiet, but it was enough.
Aila turned and went back to the kitchen, returning to her work. The steady rhythm of chopping vegetables filled the space, a fragile sense of normalcy settling in.
After a moment, Ru and Arelus exchanged a glance.
Then, without a word, they both stood up and walked toward her.
Side by side, they began helping her prepare the ingredients for tomorrow—small, silent acts of care that spoke louder than any apology.
…
SERA'S POV
After we fell into the Spine River, General Rin and Pearl did everything they could to survive—the strong current kept dragging us, and there were deadly crocodiles under the water. But even through all of that… they never let go of me.
They carried me through something that should have taken all our lives.
Pearl was bitten several times by the crocodiles while protecting both me and General Rin. His body was torn and bleeding, but he endured it without hesitation. Even in that state, he still managed to bring us to shore.
By the time we reached land, we were barely alive—just barely holding on.
That was when Mr. and Mrs. Soh found us.
They were merchants passing through Mort State, on their way back to Orchid Village, where they planned to settle. Maybe it was fate… or something kinder… that placed them in our path.
They saved us.
They treated our wounds carefully, doing everything they could. Because of their travels, they knew a lot about medicine, and through that, they managed to keep us alive… even stopping my miscarriage.
They saved my child.
They didn't know where we came from. They couldn't ask, and we couldn't explain—both of them are mute and deaf, living in complete silence. They didn't recognize us, and they hadn't heard anything about what was happening in Mort State.
So they took us with them.
To Orchid Village.
I woke up after three days.
Everything felt distant, like I had to learn how to feel the world again. But General Rin and Pearl… they stayed unconscious for weeks.
I never believed in deities.
But during those days… I prayed.
Not for myself.
But for them.
When General Rin finally woke up, his eyes felt unfamiliar.
Empty.
He didn't remember anything.
Not me.
Not us.
Not the life we had before.
I waited for Azron to find us.
Every day, I waited.
But instead, what reached me was the news of grief—the deep sorrow that fell over Mort State… the news that we were all dead.
Days passed while I struggled with my thoughts.
And then… I made a decision.
I chose not to return.
I chose to let everyone believe we were gone.
At first, it felt cruel.
But then… it started to feel like freedom.
Maybe it was fate. I had always wanted to leave Mort—to escape its suffocating walls, the expectations, the weight that never left me.
And now, that freedom was right in front of me.
So I took it.
Even if it hurt.
Even if the thought of Azron slowly forgetting me felt like a knife in my chest.
And Grand Ersi and Shrin…
I miss them every day.
But this… this is what I want.
To breathe.
To live without chains.
To live beyond war, beyond the chaos that has always surrounded my life.
I want something simple.
Something quiet.
And Orchid Village is the perfect place. It's located at the farthest edge of the continent, far beyond the reach of the four states. No state has ever shown any interest in claiming it.
And I know… being with Azron would only suffocate me.
I can't live my whole life bound to the rules of Mort State.
And I won't let my son grow up in that kind of life.
It took Pearl two years before he could use his legs again.
Two long years.
And I never let him leave.
I hid him in the stable at the back of our house—a house I was able to buy here in Orchid Village through my own efforts. With the recipes I brought from my world, I built something new.
A restaurant.
Mr. and Mrs. Soh now run a pharmacy in the village. Over time, I learned how to communicate with them through sign language. I owe them everything… so I help them whenever I can.
Even Arelus goes there almost every day, helping them communicate with customers.
Arelus is… extraordinary.
He is only four years old, but his mind is far beyond his age. He is wise, observant, and quietly clever. He can already read and write.
I think he got that from Azron. Even now… Azron is still a part of him. And I named him after his grandfather. I think that was the only thing I could give… a small piece of him that could remain.
We have lived in Orchid Village for five years now, but some things never change.
General Rin's temper is still the same, even without his memories. He often gets into trouble with thugs. It's like he naturally hates them, like it's part of him.
And when he fights… he is still the same.
Powerful.
Unmatched.
Even if he remembers nothing, his body does.
The people of Orchid Village have come to rely on him—to protect them, to stand between them and those who try to harm them.
I changed our names. I told him we were siblings. I told him the accident caused him to lose his memories… and that Pearl was badly injured.
And he believed me.
Sometimes… I wonder if that makes me cruel.
But there are nights when he suddenly wakes up from nightmares—breathing heavily, looking for something he cannot understand.
I think they are pieces of his past trying to return to him.
I waited for his memories to come back. But they never did.
And until they do…
I will hold on to this fragile freedom I was given. And cherish every moment of it.
...
"Ms. Aila, we have run out of ingredients." A worker informed Sera at the counter, a hint of exhaustion in his voice after another long, busy day.
"Remove the signage and tell new customers to come back tomorrow," Sera said happily, though there was a quiet warmth in her tone, the kind that came from seeing something she built thrive beyond expectations.
The restaurant was always crowded with customers every day, filled with voices, laughter, and the comforting clatter of bowls and chopsticks. Most days, they had to close early because their ingredients ran out too quickly. Their business was booming, and though it left them tired, it also filled Sera with a quiet, steady pride.
"Mom, are we closing early? If we are, can I go to Mr. Soh's shop now? I promised to help him today," Arelus asked, his small voice soft and hopeful as he tiptoed closer, carefully handing his mother the bowls he carried.
Sera took the bowls from his hands and gently stroked his head, her touch lingering a little longer than usual, filled with affection. She nodded, her eyes soft. "Be careful."
"Wait." Rin called out, stopping Arelus just before he could leave. "Return home early. We still have to finish the lesson we left off yesterday."
"Yes… uncle Ru," Arelus answered obediently, his voice light as he hopped his way out of the restaurant, full of energy and innocence.
Rin had been mentoring Arelus—teaching him how to read and write, guiding him through calculations, science, war tactics, and survival knowledge. Everything he knew came so naturally to him, yet it remained a mystery. How could he know so much… and still remember nothing about his past? Even Sera couldn't answer the questions that lingered behind his eyes.
"You know, he's way too young for some of your lessons," Sera said, glancing at Rin as he wiped the tables, her tone carrying a mix of concern and quiet amusement.
"No one is too young for knowledge. And he is smart. He can handle that much information. You should see his eyes sparkle at everything I teach him," Rin replied, a faint smile forming—one that carried a rare softness.
Sera smiled in return, a gentle warmth settling in her chest. Her own knowledge of this world was limited. It was comforting… knowing someone could guide her son in ways she could not.
Sera waved at the workers as they left, her hand lingering in the air for a moment before lowering it. Rin sat comfortably, reading his book, the quiet finally settling around them. After a long and exhausting day, they were left with a rare moment of peace.
Sera was about to close the doors when suddenly, a group of thugs barged into the restaurant. The same men Rin had beaten before… only now, they had brought more with them.
Sera instinctively stepped back, her heart tightening as she watched them take seats as if they owned the place. Rin stood up immediately, his presence shifting, his body tense.
"Is he the one that beat you up?" a man named Kai asked, his voice calm but laced with authority. He looked like the leader.
The thugs nodded, their eyes fixed on Rin. Rin didn't move. He simply stared back, his gaze cold and heavy, filled with restrained danger.
Kai turned his attention to Sera. "You know, we only cause trouble when we're not paid on time. And the town folks… they always delay their payments. Not you, of course. You've always been diligent," he said, his tone almost conversational, yet something beneath it felt threatening. "But if you keep disrupting our operations… we can't promise to keep you safe."
Kai stood up and walked toward Sera, his steps slow, deliberate. His eyes traveled over her from head to toe.
Sera didn't move.
She didn't even blink.
When he lifted his hand and touched her chin, Rin's fist clenched tightly, his control hanging by a thread. He was about to strike—but Sera quickly signaled him, a small, hidden movement, telling him to stay still.
"Runar has always admired you. I can see why," Kai said, his gaze lingering on her, filled with unsettling admiration. "Speak to your brother. This will be your last warning."
The thugs laughed as they walked out, their voices echoing faintly as they disappeared.
Sera watched them leave, her gaze following them until they were gone. Slowly, she pinched her leg and inhaled deeply, grounding herself. On the outside, she looked calm—but her eyes… they carried something darker, something dangerous, something she had long tried to bury.
She had been trying so hard to stay calm ever since coming to Orchid Village. She couldn't afford to lose control—not now, not when Arelus depended on her. She wasn't the same person she used to be… the one who would destroy anyone who dared threaten her.
For her son… she chose peace.
She chose restraint.
"Are you okay?" Rin asked as he approached her, his voice softer now, filled with concern.
Sera forced a small smile. "Yeah."
She removed her apron, her movements steady. But beneath that calm surface, her patience was wearing thin.
Rin felt the weight of guilt settle heavily in his chest, believing all of this was his fault.
"Can you close the restaurant and check on Arelus?" she asked quietly as she cleared the counter.
Rin nodded without hesitation.
Sera left, heading home to tend to Pearl.
...
"Do you miss your master?" Sera asked softly, feeding him cabbages, her voice carrying a quiet sadness.
"Do you think he has moved on by now?"
She examined Pearl's body carefully. The wounds had healed into deep scars. He could run again—but she wasn't sure if he could endure long, harsh journeys like before.
When Pearl survived… she had been truly surprised. Seeing the legendary endurance of the Ghosthoof with her own eyes felt almost unreal.
Sera glanced around the stable. It was too small… too limiting.
"I think you need to exercise… to see if you've fully recovered," she said gently. "I'll find a way to sneak you out of the village. Okay? We still can't let anyone see you. We don't know if your legend is known here. We have to be careful."
Pearl let out a soft bray as she patted his head, the quiet moment filled with unspoken understanding.
Meanwhile, Rin and Arelus were walking home, carrying a bag of sweets.
"Can I have one?" Arelus asked, his small hand swaying as he held onto Rin's, his voice hopeful.
"No. We have to ask your mother first. You know she's strict about cavities."
"Do you have cavities, uncle Ru?"
"Hmm…" Rin muttered, checking his teeth. "Actually, I don't."
"But you always eat candies."
"Well… I brush my teeth all the time."
Rin patted Arelus' head gently, a small, fond gesture—until suddenly, a group of men blocked their path in a quiet alley.
The same thugs.
Rin's expression hardened. He moved Arelus behind him without hesitation. "What do you want?" he asked, exhaling slowly, his patience already thinning.
"You still owe us a beating," one of them said, gripping his stick tightly.
Rin turned to Arelus.
"Can you turn around and cover your ears? Make sure you don't see or hear anything, okay?" he said softly, placing the bag of sweets beside him.
"Can you hurry up? I'm getting hungry," Arelus replied innocently.
"It'll only take a few minutes," Rin said with a reassuring smile, hiding everything behind it.
Arelus nodded and did exactly as he was told.
"Get on with it," Rin said as he faced the thugs again.
The thugs attacked him all at once, their movements rough and unforgiving as they struck him again and again. But Rin didn't lift a finger. He simply stood there at first… then let himself fall, choosing not to fight back.
He allowed their blows to land, enduring everything in silence—because he didn't want to bring trouble to Sera again. He lay on the ground as the thugs beat him with their sticks and kicked his body, their anger spilling freely onto him.
But the general knew better than to let himself be completely broken. Even if he didn't strike back, his body moved on instinct. He defended himself quietly, subtly—blocking just enough, shifting just enough so the blows wouldn't land properly. He reduced the damage without making it obvious. To anyone watching, it looked brutal.
But in truth… they weren't really hurting him at all.
The thugs eventually grew tired after seeing him curled up on the ground, unmoving.
"Let this be a warning to you. Mess with us again and we will end you!"
They left laughing, satisfied, believing they had crippled him, their voices echoing as they disappeared into the distance.
Rin slowly pushed himself up and stood, stretching his body as if nothing had happened. There wasn't even a bruise on him.
He fixed his clothes, brushing off the dirt, but the mud clung stubbornly to the fabric, leaving behind a thick, ugly stain.
"Aila will scold me for this," he muttered under his breath, almost helplessly, as he picked up the bag of sweets.
"Let's go home," he said softly as he carried Arelus, holding him securely, almost protectively.
Sera had already finished preparing dinner by the time they arrived home, the warm scent of food filling the space.
"We're home," Arelus said cheerfully as he ran toward Sera and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly.
Rin placed the bag of sweets on the table before sitting down. He stayed quiet, his fists still clenched, his face serious, the weight of everything still lingering in his chest.
Sera noticed immediately.
Her eyes fell on the mud staining his clothes. "Was it those thugs again?" she asked as she handed utensils to Arelus, her voice calm but edged with concern.
"Don't worry, I didn't attack them. I just… let them beat me," Rin said. His jaw tightened as the words left him, as if even saying it out loud wounded his pride. Letting them hit him—those weak men—it went against everything in him. His patience had been stretched thin, and it showed.
Sera watched his face turn slightly red, his fists still tightly curled. She could see it clearly—his frustration, his restraint, everything he was holding back.
She turned to Arelus, who was sitting quietly, waiting for them. His eyes were locked on the dumplings like a hungry puppy, yet he stayed patient, not touching them until the adults began.
"Arelus, you can eat first. I just have something to discuss with your uncle at the back. Don't go there, okay?"
Arelus nodded obediently and started eating.
"Come with me," Sera called to Rin.
Rin stood and followed her to the back of the house, where Pearl was resting.
"Spar with me," she said, turning to face him, her voice steady.
Rin's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard.
"Don't joke around," he said, trying to turn away, not taking her seriously—
But Sera moved first.
She swung a hard wooden stick she had already prepared, her attack fast and precise.
Rin reacted on instinct, dodging immediately. But Sera didn't stop. Her movements flowed into the next, swift and controlled, forcing Rin to step back again and again as he avoided her strikes. His mind struggled to catch up, surprised—he had never known she could fight like this.
He didn't remember.
"Are you going to keep on running?" Sera asked, pressing forward, her strikes relentless, her eyes sharp.
She grabbed another wooden stick and kicked it toward him. Rin caught it without thinking.
And for a brief moment—
Everything stilled.
Sera wasn't just attacking him.
She was giving him a way to release everything he had been holding in.
Rin's gaze shifted, growing serious. His grip tightened around the stick.
"Don't hold back," she said, her voice firm, challenging him.
A small smile formed on Rin's lips, something fierce and alive, as he dashed forward.
At first, he held back, careful with his strength. But as he realized that Sera could match him—move for move—he let go. He attacked with everything he had, releasing the frustration from earlier, the anger he swallowed, the helplessness of not being able to protect the people around him the way he wanted to.
Every strike carried something unspoken.
Their skills hadn't faded, even after years of not using them. Their movements were sharp, precise—almost like muscle memory refusing to disappear. The open land behind the house gave them space, enough to let everything unfold without restraint.
The sparring grew more intense, faster, heavier—until Rin's stick suddenly broke, snapping the moment and bringing everything to a halt.
Sera stopped, watching him as he stood there, breathing heavily.
"Are you fine now?" she asked softly as she stepped closer.
Rin straightened, his breathing slowly steadying. "I didn't know you were good at fighting."
"You just didn't remember," Sera said quietly as she bent down and picked up the broken stick from the ground.
"Yeah," Rin replied, his gaze lingering on her as something thoughtful passed through his mind—something distant, uncertain.
Sera had told him they were siblings. That their parents were warriors, and that they were the reason he knew how to fight. But she never told him that she was just as skilled.
She had always been calm.
Quiet.
She never showed this side of herself—not to anyone.
Not even to him.
Rin believed everything she told him.
But sometimes… doubt would creep in.
Every night, when the nightmares came, he would see faces he didn't recognize. Blurred memories, slipping through his mind like something just out of reach. And every time he woke up, his chest would feel heavy—filled with guilt he couldn't explain.
In those dreams, there was always a silhouette of a man.
And every time he saw him…
His heart would ache with something deep and painful.
Regret.
Guilt.
And a quiet, unshakable sorrow he couldn't understand.