"And lo, standing atop the perilous plateau... the Hero!"
Gasps filled the square as the crowd pressed closer, hanging on every word that escaped a elderly man's mouth.
"Armed in shining metal, wielding the Once and Future Sword, the Hero climbed Mount Kilgharrah in all its ash and smoke, braving the blistering heat of draconic fire!"
The elderly man was dressed comically, with a straw hat and small sacks for shoes, tied with rope. His clothes were made of potato sacks, there was a pickaxe pendant hanging from his neck, bound in leather.
"Alas, the Hero arrived atop Mount Kilgharrah, and gazed into its horrible gaping maw! There, he saw the essence of fire spilling forth from the Earth- the oldest magic of all-- the final remnant of the Old Religion!"
He waved his hands around and spoke in a way that highlighted his histrionics, and made him seem quite engaging to the audience.
"It was there, amidst an onslaught of Wyverns, that the Hero fought and slew the Great Dragon, Kilgharrah! Alas, the memory of the Fisher King was avenged, and the Old Religion was thoroughly expunged!"
"Mount Kilgharrah, which stands on the very land whereupon the Dark Tower once did, lost the essence of fire and became dormant! Now, it stands behind me, an everlasting memory of the final hurdle our people have crossed."
The people gazed behind the old man at the center of the square, and saw the enormous, dormant volcano. It was not even a mile away from the village.
"The Perilous Lands were no more, and Kilgharrah Village was built. Prosperity returned to this land."
He raised his hand and gestured at their surroundings.
"The green returned. The waters are free of poison. Slowly, settlers come."
He smiled proudly as he stared at them all.
"So, I welcome you all to Kilgharrah Village. To these lands, though they are yet nameless. Feel free to stay. Farm the land. Build."
The audience cheered as the old man waved and walked away, both hands behind his back.
The village was more on the simpler side, but most of the structures were of renovated stone. It appeared as though there was once a town or city here that had long been destroyed or abandoned.
In fact, if you looked close enough at the foliage around the village, you would see similar structures covered in overgrowth.
As the old man passed by, he stopped by some small traders who were accepting various items and goods for their own.
His presence was met with smiling greetings, and he was even given a number of fruits and vegatables for free, along with some bread.
Before long, he had a small basket of goods. Taking off his straw hat, he fanned himself for a moment before finally stepping off the road and walking along a path that led to a windmill house.
As he was walking, he heard a voice next to him.
"That Hero you were talking about..."
Startled, the old man accidentally let go of the basket.
The person next to him, who had spoken, caught the basket before anything could fall, and reached to grab the old man's arm in case he fell.
"Whoa, there... Heh, you gave me a fright, young man." The old man chuckled and righted himself, taking back the basket.
"My bad, Uncle. So, about that Hero. Where did he come from?"
The old man shook his head in amusement, "Interested in the Hero, are you? Well, heroes can come from anywhere. No one knows where the one from the stories came from."
"Oh... Then, how does someone become a hero?" The stranger asked.
"Become a hero? I'm afraid it's not that simple. In all the land, the Dragon Knight Order boasts the most capable and powerful swordsmen, but not even the strongest among them can ever hope to become a Hero."
The old man sighed emotionally as he gazed at the volcano, turning and smiling at the curious stranger.
"Heroes are chosen. By the Once and Future Sword. That is the only way." The old man saw a small frown form on the face of the young man.
"You're wondering what that is, aren't you?"
They nodded, "And where to find it."
"Huahua! Of course. Well, the sword is always returned to the Valley of Kings, and placed in the tomb of the Last King of Albion. That is where it rests now, thrust in stone by the ancient mage."
"I see." The stranger nodded and gave a small bow. "Thank you, Uncle. Have a good day."
"And you, young man. Good luck." Smiling, the old man waved him off.
Grinning, Jin Huang turned and walked back to the village.
Back at the square, he found the others waiting for him.
"Well?" Lu Chen crossed his arms.
Expectantly, they looked to him.
"Valley of Kings. Tomb of the Albion's Last King. That's our best bet." Jin Huang smirked and looked to Cho Yanshi.
"So, which way Madame Compass?"
Cho Yanshi shook her head and opened her map, scouring it briefly before saying, "We head south."
Jin Huang raised his hand, "South it is!"
He started walking, certainty in his evey step and fierceness in his gaze.
The others were yet to move.
"Huang," Hei Shisan called out.
"Hm?" Jin Huang turned, surprised to see them not following.
"That's North." Hei Shisan said with a wry smile.
Jin Huang froze mid-step. A second passed. Then two.
"…Ah."
Slowly, almost mechanically, he turned his head to look at the sun, then at the volcano, then at the village behind them.
Finally, he was back at Hei Shisan.
"…South," he repeated, as if testing the word for the first time.
Hei Shisan's smile widened, arms folded lazily across his chest. "If we keep going that way, we might just find an ocean."
A snort came from Lu Chen, who shook his head. "Or fall off the edge of the continent."
Jin Huang coughed into his fist, dignity hastily, "A minor miscalculation."
"Mm." Cho Yanshi didn't even look up from her map this time. She simply turned on her heel and began walking in the opposite direction. "This way."
Qin Shuyue followed with a soft laugh, sleeves swaying. "Our fearless leader, everyone."
Shen Wuyou said nothing. He simply flicked his pair of dice into the air. They spun lazily, caught the light-- and landed neatly in his palm.
He glanced down. Two sixes.
A faint, unreadable smile touched his lips.
Behind them, Jin Huang clicked his tongue and jogged a bit to catch up. "You all hesitate too much. A true path-walker trusts his instincts."
"Your instincts point north when the map says south," Lu Chen replied dryly.
"Detailsshmetails, Lu Chen!" Jin Huang scoffed.
They had barely reached the edge of the village when a small voice called out—
"W-Wait!"
The group paused.
Footsteps, uneven and hurried, pattered against the dirt road. A boy, no older than twelve or thirteen, came running toward them, breathless.
His hair was a messy gold, sunlit and untamed, falling over wide, anxious eyes.
His clothes were little more than patched rags, sleeves too long, hems uneven. Dust clung to his bare feet.
He stopped a few paces away, bending slightly as he tried to catch his breath.
"I—I heard you," he said between breaths. "You're… you're going to the Valley of Kings… right?"
Silence settled over the group.
Lu Chen's gaze sharpened immediately, posture straightening. Hei Shisan's expression didn't change much—but something in his eyes cooled, measuring.
"And if we are?" Lu Chen asked.
The boy swallowed, straightening. Despite the tremor in his voice, he tried to stand firm. "Please… take me with you."
That earned reactions.
Hei Shisan tilted his head slightly. "That's... quite a request."
"You don't even know who we are," Lu Chen added. "Or what kind of road that is."
"I know enough," the boy insisted quickly. "The way to the Valley isn't safe. No one goes there unless they have to. I…" He hesitated, fists clenching at his sides. "I can't go alone."
Qin Shuyue's expression softened almost immediately. She stepped forward slightly, voice gentle. "What's your name?"
"Uh… it's... Lin."
"Lin," she repeated warmly. "Why do you need to go?"
The boy looked down for a moment, then back up, eyes stubborn. "There's something there I have to see."
Cho Yanshi closed her map with a soft snap, studying him. There was curiosity in her gaze- and a hint of amusement. "He's cute."
Qin Shuyue nodded without hesitation. "He is."
Lu Chen exhaled sharply. "That's not a qualification."
"Nor is it a disqualification," Cho Yanshi replied.
Hei Shisan crouched slightly, bringing himself closer to the boy's eye level. His tone was lighter than Lu Chen's, but no less probing.
Lin sniffed, then steadied. "I won't slow you down."
Shen Wuyou opened his hand, willing the dice to spin this time. They spun and, once again, rolled two sixes.
This time, he let out a soft hum, as if mildly entertained by something only he could see.
Jin Huang, who had been watching the exchange with growing interest, suddenly grinned. "Well, that settles it."
All eyes turned to him.
Lu Chen frowned. "Settles what?"
"We're taking him."
"No, we're not."
"We are."
"No, we—"
"Let's go," Jin Huang said, already walking toward the boy. He placed a hand on Lin's head, ruffling his messy hair without ceremony. "A journey without a bit of surprises is just a long walk."
Lin blinked up at him, stunned.
"You've got something you need to see?" Jin Huang continued. "Then let's go see it."
Lu Chen pinched the bridge of his nose. "You can't just--"
"I can," Jin Huang cut in smoothly.
Hei Shisan straightened, chuckling under his breath. "You heard him."
Qin Shuyue smiled, clearly pleased. "Welcome, Lin."
Cho Yanshi reopened her map, already turning away. "Stick with us, okay?"
Lin looked between them, disbelief slowly giving way to something brighter. "…Thank you."
Shen Wuyou closed his hand around the dice, expression unreadable.
Jin Huang turned, pointing forward with renewed energy. "Alright! South!"
After a pause.
"…This way," Cho Yanshi corrected, not looking back.
"Right. That's what I said."
And so, with one more added to their number, the group set off.
Leaving behind the quiet village, they stepped onto a road that promised anything but peace.