On a balcony extending from a modest palace, a short distance away from Rose Village, Lima and Anton sat facing each other around a white circular table.
Their conversation flowed lightly—scattered childhood memories, small moments, fleeting and fragmented words, yet they left their mark on the air between them.
"So… have you remembered how to speak Onitha, or is it still difficult after all this time?" Lima asked in Onitha, the official language of the Kingdom of Neoland.
"I think so," Anton replied, sipping his Goofer-Dim Coffee. "I haven't spoken it in a while, but it flows easily off my tongue—it's not that different from Nita."
Nita was the dominant and official language in the northern region of the continent Unitium, and nearly everyone in Neoland spoke it.
Lima smiled at his words, then raised her cup to her lips before asking, "Then… what happened after you left home?"
"A lot, Older Sister…" he said quietly.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, without pressure, then whispered as she rubbed the fur of her ear.
"You don't have to say anything you don't want to. I'm just… worried about my Little Brother."
Anton gave a faint smile and turned his gaze toward the horizon, where hills and forest swallowed the sunlight.
"After I left…" he began hesitantly, as if weighing the words again, "being the Duke's son meant nothing. I never used the title anyway. I was just Anton."
He paused for a moment, then continued in a clipped tone, carefully choosing what to leave unsaid:
"Roads, missions, beasts, monsters… I worked as an adventurer for a while. After that, I found myself working as a bodyguard for important figures—but always unseen."
Lima slowly set down her coffee cup; the soft clink against the table preceded her words: "Is that how you ended up with this caravan?"
Anton shook his head. "I'd already quit guarding by then. I met him on a trade route, worked with him, and things stayed that way… until now."
A brief silence fell. The wind stirred the balcony curtains, carrying with it the scent of earth and trees.
Lima leaned forward slightly: "And what do you plan to do now? Will you keep traveling with them?"
Anton lifted his head, and his eyes settled on her with a steadiness she hadn't seen in years.
"No." One word—but it carried the weight of a full decision. "I'll return home… whether I'm accepted or not."
Lima's expression stiffened, then a quiet joy she couldn't hide flickered across her lips.
"I have a goal—and for that, I'll claim my right as the Duke's son as well…"
Lima exhaled slowly, ran her hand over her ear with slight nervousness, then looked directly at him: "You know I'm with you, no matter the reason. But I want to know… what truly drives you to return?"
Anton met her gaze without hesitation: "I made a mistake. My friend died. His family needs help. So I swore an oath to assist them."
A heavier silence settled…
Lima spoke with blunt realism, as if pouring acid on the wound: "You know how they see you… your feet… your fighting style, so different from the family's… to them, you're—"
"Trash." Anton cut her off before she could finish, without emotion.
He let out a short laugh. "I got used to it. I was born as I am. I tried to be like them… but I failed."
Then he added, voice lower: "But you know… outside those family walls, no one cared about the shape of my feet. They only cared whether I stood… or fell. It sounds silly when said like this…"
Lima chuckled softly at his phrasing, while he lifted the nunchaku hanging at his waist slightly: "And now, I have my own style."
He finally looked at her—a sincere look, with no defense or justification: "And you… the family who never turned their back on me. That's why I wanted you to know, before I go back. That's why I'm telling you now."
Lima's heart trembled. She had always worried about her brother—but now, she felt her fears were baseless.
"Your words make me very happy, Little Brother… Do what you love. I'll always support you," she said with a smile.
She slowly sipped the rest of her cup, giving herself one last moment of calm, then placed the empty cup on the table and gazed into its dark interior with a faint smile: "That's enough for me."
Moments later, a maid approached with quiet steps and bowed respectfully: "Lady Lima… the reply from the capital has arrived. Permission has been granted. We may head to the capital at any time."
Lima's expression barely changed—only her smile deepened… grew calmer.
She rose from her seat and adjusted her shirt: "Good. I'll deliver it myself."
Then she turned to Anton, her tone practical yet warm: "I'll join your caravan tomorrow. But for now…"
She paused mid-step, as if remembering something else: "I'll go finalize the purchase of the Kora Stones you brought."
She looked at him with a calm, curious smile: "What do you say? Will you come with me, or would you prefer to wander around the village?"
Anton drained his coffee cup in one gulp and stood up: "I'll go with you. There's not much for me to see in the village—I memorized it as a child."
"Really? Do you still remember it? It's expanded, you know."
"Maybe… but I'm not interested right now." He glanced at the waiting servant. "Mrs. Hota, how are you? Glad to see you're still well. How's Zain?"
The maid was a mature female Cebuan-cow, with white fur marked by black spots, long black hair tied in a ponytail, clearly aged—around fifty—and dressed in classic maid attire.
"It's good to see you, Lord Anton. Zain is currently working in the capital, at the main Duke's residence," she said with dignity and respect.
"You don't need to speak so formally. I see you exactly like my Mam," he smiled at her.
"That's an honor, Lord Anton," she smoothly replied, bypassing the request.
Anton sighed as Lima laughed behind him, then began walking: "Come on, then, Little Brother."
"I'll see you later, Mrs. Hota," he said as he followed Lima.
"May safety accompany you both," Hota concluded with a slight bow.
***
A female Goblhum stepped out of her wooden house as she did every day, gently adjusting her clothes before closing the door behind her.
Her features stood out among the locals—pale greenish skin, long sky-blue hair, matching violet eyes of uniform hue, and a familiar smile known to all.
She hadn't taken more than a few steps before greetings rose around her:
"Rofa, good morning!"
"Lovely day, isn't it?"
She responded to each with a nod or a smile, recognizing the familiar faces one by one.
A woman called out from in front of a small shop: "Dear Rofa, are you taking food to your brother again?"
The Goblhum nodded, lifting her basket slightly: "Yes. He'll be busy until evening and won't eat at all if I don't."
The woman laughed, just as a human man in guard uniform passed by, his clothes dusty from the day's work.
"Excuse me," she said gently, "do you know where my brother's assignment was moved to today?"
The man paused briefly, then answered: "In the nearby plain. He was assigned to guard a merchant caravan that stopped here today."
"Thank you." She gave a light bow and continued on her way.
Neighbors watched as she walked away, the basket swaying gently in her hands.
"She's such a kind young woman…" one murmured.
The guard kept staring longer than necessary, then said seriously: "She'd make a suitable wife for my son…"
"Ha! You're dreaming—she's promised to my son!"
"What are you two saying? I've decided to propose for her for my son next week!"
As the usual neighborhood argument began, Rofa had already walked far ahead, strolling calmly toward the plain, unaware of the conversations behind her—or of how deeply they loved her.
***
In the plain, Takashi trained with Roden, the Goblhum guard, who had offered to help him.
"Hah!" Takashi shouted as he lunged forward with a punch.
"Too slow!" his opponent said, deflecting his hand and kneeing him in the stomach.
Takashi collapsed, coughing and clutching his abdomen in pain.
"Get up. If you want to master combat, you must never fall. In a real battle, that equals death," Roden said impassively.
"Easier… khh… said than done… Sir Roden," Takashi muttered as he struggled to stand, trembling.
Roden, with long black hair and red eyes, radiated discipline in every movement.
He had previously offered to help Takashi without knowing the boy's true aim was to train his TRAITUM.
"Yes—but to be a true fighter, words must be exactly like action… Come on, get ready. I'm attacking."
Roden assumed his fighting stance and charged at the poor Takashi.
"Oh, I almost feel sorry for Takashi…" Ethan said, seated at a distance. Beside him sat Saty, the little Cebuan, watching every move without blinking.
*Why is this silent kid sitting here without a word…? A strange turtle boy? Should I run?* Ethan thought nervously.
The wind whistled through the plain's grass, and Saty tracked every motion—from Roden to Takashi—in complete silence.
*He's the same boy who got angry at Boris for not saving his grandfather, right?* Ethan's thoughts continued uninterrupted.
Saty didn't blink. Didn't move. Didn't speak. He just sat.
"Are you… alright?" Ethan asked in a low voice.
Saty didn't reply—but slowly moved his head, first slightly to the left, then to the right, in a gesture that suggested deep thought.
Suddenly, a soft, warm flute melody drifted from afar, cutting through the wind's whisper:
"Hey, everyone! Food's ready! Come before it gets cold!"
Everyone stood up. Ethan rushed toward the warm meal, while Saty remained standing for a moment.
"Do… you not want to eat?" Ethan asked hesitantly.
Slowly, Saty rose and walked toward Imenata without a word.
".What a strange boy…" Ethan whispered.
***
From afar, Rofa approached—the beautiful Goblhum with long sky-blue hair, a wooden basket hanging from her arm, and a warm smile on her face.
Roden immediately halted his training, even before finishing his last move.
He turned toward her, and his harsh features softened slightly—as if ice had melted from his face for just a moment.
"Rofa…" he murmured unconsciously.
Takashi slowly lifted his head from the ground, still panting. "Ah… is she… your wife? Girlfriend?"
"My sister," Roden answered curtly, trying to regain his usual composure.
Rofa gently placed the basket on the ground, dusted her hands, and apologized with a smile:
"I'm a bit late… sorry."
She looked first at Roden, then at the sprawled Takashi.
"What are you doing, Roden? I was told you're guarding a caravan—why are you hitting this boy?"
She walked over to Takashi and helped him up. She gave him a gentle smile, and he felt a pleasant warmth rise to his cheeks.
"I'm fine!" he blurted quickly, flustered. "This is what I asked for—just training… and Mr. Roden kindly offered to help."
Rofa looked at him with warm eyes, then turned to Roden, who tried to reassemble his mask of indifference—but didn't quite succeed.
"Roden, don't exhaust those who seek to learn."
Roden closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head: "I was preparing him for worse than light blows.
"Maybe…" Rofa replied gently, "but excessive harshness doesn't always teach. People won't like you this way."
"I don't need their affection…" Roden murmured, barely audible.
At that exact moment, something in the distance caught his attention.
Three Veridians approached across the plain. One led ahead, carrying Lima and Anton on its back.
Roden instantly straightened, his guard's demeanor returning before anything else: "It's the Sheriff."
He turned quickly to Rofa and said in a brisk, professional tone: "I must go greet her."
Rofa nodded in understanding. "Go. I'll stay here."
Then she turned to Takashi and gave him a reassuring smile: "Let my brother do his job."
Takashi hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
Before Roden walked away, Rofa added lightly, as if it were a passing thought:
"By the way… I always enjoy meeting new people. Would you mind introducing me to some around here~?"
Takashi looked at her, then toward the plain where some caravan members had gathered:
"Ah… I-I mean… if you'd like, I can introduce you to a few."
Rofa smiled—a genuine, unpretentious smile: "I'd be delighted."
Takashi swallowed hard, trying to control his fluster at how kind and close she seemed: "O-okay… come on."
He led her with hesitant steps toward a small group near the wagons, where Zofia sat, and Sonia was heading toward where Boris sat.
On the other side of the plain, the Veridians stopped.
The three guards approached them, Roden standing with military posture.
Lima and Anton dismounted, while the orange-haired, scar-faced guard stepped forward firmly after descending from the Veridian behind them.
He stood before the three guards, placed his hand on his chest, in a military salute:
"I present my salute. The Sheriff has arrived—Dame Rosovis!"
The three returned the salute. Lima acknowledged it with a nod, then asked in a calm, clear tone: "Is Mr. Kalu here?"
The central guard stood perfectly straight: "Yes! He arrived earlier with his companion, Sheriff!"
"Please take me to them."
***
Kalu sat on one of the wagons, a metal tray on his knees, devouring his meal alongside Tamer and Jon from the caravan, laughing intermittently and chatting lightly.
He looked up upon seeing Lima, quickly wiped his hands, and stood respectfully:
"Sheriff… I didn't expect you so soon."
She waved dismissively: "I didn't have much to do, so I wrapped things up quickly."
He pulled back the thick cloth covering neatly arranged crates. Deep blue gleamed under the afternoon light.
"I've seen it before, but the quality is certainly excellent," Lima said firmly yet calmly, running her fingers over the surface of one stone.
Kalu exchanged brief words and quick gestures with her. No evaluation details were shown—only a final nod: "Agreed."
Then Lima added: "Now… the special-grade stone you mentioned."
Kalu produced another box—smaller, yet heavier in presence.
Inside lay a Kora Stone larger than the others, pulsing like a quiet heart. Lima leaned in slightly, her eyes gleaming with curiosity:
"This… is rare… the amount of dead Kora inside is minimal…"
She straightened and declared without negotiation: "I'll buy it for one Large Silver Coin."
Kalu agreed immediately: "Done."
Afterward, Lima handed over the agreed payment, while the guards took the Kora Stones to their wagon and departed.
With the deal fully closed, the sound of a flute slipped into their ears—a delicate, warm melody slicing through the air.
Everyone turned—children first—dropping what they held and rushing toward the sound with short laughs.
"It's Boris Bro playing!" a girl cried as she ran.
Kalu smiled as he dusted his hands: "That's Boris's playing with the flute ."
Lima looked toward the horizon, where the children gathered under a tree, and said lightly: "It seems the children recognize the sound well."
"Indeed. He's very beloved among them," Anton said.
Lima smiled, then clapped lightly: "Since everything ended well… it wouldn't be proper for you to sleep outdoors or in wagons tonight."
The caravan members exchanged glances. Tamer scratched the back of his head hesitantly: "We're… over fifty people. Is there enough space?"
Lima let out a short, genuine laugh and waved her hand carelessly:
"My family's palace may be modest, but it's not small. And if we run out of room… what's wrong with a group sleepover? The guest hall is spacious—and if needed, we'll spread mats and sleep in a single row."
One of the guards stepped forward, shock clear on his face: "Sheriff—this—isn't fitting for you—"
But before he could finish, a firm voice cut in from beside him.
The orange-haired, scarred knight—his clothes finer—placed his hand on his chest in military salute, then turned sharply to the guard with a stern look:
"It's not your place to dictate to Dame Rosovis how or where she sleeps. Your role is protection—not guardianship."
The guard froze, then immediately bowed: "My apologies, Sheriff."
Lima simply gave a slight nod: "As Sir Guerreiro said—I decide."
Kalu chuckled lightly, Tamer breathed in relief, and even Anton shook his head with a familiar smile—the kind that appears when someone sets things right without fuss.
"Then it's settled," Lima concluded, turning toward the caravan. "Tonight, you are guests of Lima N. Rosovis… and perhaps I'll host a feast with the villagers as well."
In the background, Boris's flute melody continued to flow over the plain—calm and smooth.