The water ran clear.
Noel stood there for a moment longer, cloth in hand, cold air clinging to his damp skin. The glowing sigil on his back had faded from sight, hidden again beneath flesh like it had never existed.
But he knew it was there.
Watching.
Waiting.
He exhaled slowly.
There was nothing else to clean.
Nothing else to delay.
He dried himself with the rough cloth, dressed in the simple spare clothes Arthur had left behind, and stepped back toward the house.
The wooden door creaked softly as he pushed it open.
Warmth greeted him first.
Not overwhelming. Just enough to push back the cold.
The living room was small.
Old.
A single rocking chair sat near a stone fireplace, its wood worn smooth by years of use. Low flames crackled inside, casting soft orange light across the mud-brick walls. Shadows shifted with each flicker.
Simple and Quiet.
Noel stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
Beyond the living space sat a small dining table.
Arthur was already there.
Sitting.
Waiting.
Hands resting calmly on the surface.
He didn't speak.
Didn't look surprised.
Just watched Noel return.
Noel walked forward.
Each step steady.
He reached the table.
And sat down.
Arthur leaned back slightly in his chair.
"So this is Thornwatch, right?"
Arthur nodded once. "Aye. That it is."
Noel hesitated, then asked, "Is there anyone else that lives here?"
Arthur didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he reached for a small cup on the table, took a slow drink, and set it back down.
"Nah," he said simply. "Just me."
Noel frowned.
"…Wait. What do you mean, just you?"
Arthur snorted faintly.
"Means exactly what it sounds like, youngin. Just me. My crops. And whatever's stubborn enough not to die."
Noel's brow tightened.
"Why?"
Arthur's eyes drifted toward the darkened window.
"Idunno about you, bucko," he said quietly, "but most folk don't fancy livin' next to a forest infested with monsters."
His fingers tapped once against the table.
"Even the lord packed his things and ran."
Noel felt a small chill crawl up his spine.
"This place used to be bigger?"
Arthur gave a faint nod.
"Once."
Silence hung for a moment.
Then Arthur continued.
"That forest…" he said, voice lower now. "It's wrong."
He looked back at Noel.
"High-level monsters."
Noel stayed quiet.
Arthur's expression hardened slightly.
"I'm surprised you lived as long as you did in there."
A pause.
"It ain't strange to see Level Threes near the deeper ends."
Noel's fingers tightened slightly on his knee.
Level Three.
He had almost died to goblins.
Arthur continued.
"And there's talk," he added, quieter now, "of worse."
He leaned forward slightly.
"Heard whispers of a Level Six."
Noel's eyes sharpened.
"…A Level Six?"
Arthur nodded once.
"Surface monster."
He shook his head faintly.
"Ain't natural."
Noel spoke carefully.
"Why hasn't anyone dealt with it?"
Arthur laughed.
Not amused.
Just tired.
"Because we can't."
He gestured vaguely southward.
"All the real power sits behind Orario's walls."
His lip curled slightly.
"The Guild keeps its claws in everything."
"They don't let high-level adventurers wander freely."
"They control it."
Noel listened silently.
Arthur's voice lowered further.
"No country's stupid enough to throw half their fighting force into one cursed forest."
He leaned back again.
"So it rots."
His eyes met Noel's.
"And anything unlucky enough to wander inside…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
Noel looked at Arthur.
The old man sat across from him, posture relaxed, hands resting loosely on the table like they had all the time in the world.
Noel hesitated.
Then spoke.
"…Thank you."
Arthur raised an eyebrow slightly.
"For what?"
"For everything," Noel said. "You didn't know me. You didn't have to help me."
His fingers rested lightly against the wood of the table.
"You treated my wounds. Gave me food. Let me stay."
He paused.
"I appreciate it."
Arthur watched him quietly.
Noel continued.
"If there's any way I can repay you—"
Arthur waved a hand.
"Nah."
Noel blinked.
Arthur leaned back in his chair, wood creaking softly beneath his weight.
"Just live, eat well, sleep well and don't forget to study well"
Noel stilled.
Arthur's eyes held his.
"Live bright, kid."
His voice was calm.
But firm.
"Shine like every day means something."
The fire crackled behind him.
"That's all I want."
Silence settled between them.
Noel didn't answer immediately.
He just sat there.
Feeling the weight of those words settle somewhere deep inside his chest.
Live bright.
As if life itself was something worth honoring.
As if survival wasn't enough.
His fingers tightened slightly against the table.
"…I will," Noel said quietly.
Not as a promise to Arthur.
But to himself.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Several hours later
The bed was rough.
Straw packed beneath thin fabric. The frame creaked whenever he shifted. It wasn't comfortable.
But it was safe.
Noel stared at the ceiling.
"…Huh."
A proper bed.
Sure, it was tough.
But compared to wet earth and the constant fear of something finding him in the dark…
It felt like a luxury.
He exhaled slowly.
"…I'm grateful."
Arthur didn't have to help him.
He didn't ask for anything.
He just did.
"What a legend," Noel murmured faintly to himself.
His fingers rested over his stomach as his thoughts drifted.
Abilities.
Status.
Skills.
It still didn't feel real.
Yeah, it was cool.
Anyone would think it was cool.
But…
His expression hardened slightly.
"If I let myself get cocky…"
He stared at the ceiling.
"And rush into danger like an idiot…"
His fingers tightened slightly.
"…then I'll just die like one."
No excuses.
Just truth.
"One step at a time," he whispered.
Arthur's words surfaced in his mind.
Eat well.
Sleep well.
Live well.
Study well.
Noel let out a small breath through his nose.
"…Honestly…"
A faint smile formed.
"…isn't that perfect?"
No glory.
No shortcuts.
Just living properly.
Building himself slowly.
He liked that.
"I'll try," he said quietly into the darkness.
Not a vow.
Not some grand declaration.
Just intent.
The ceiling blurred slightly as his eyes grew heavier.
"…But for now…"
He shifted under the thin blanket.
"…it's sleepy time."
His breathing slowed.
The fear wasn't gone.
The uncertainty wasn't gone.
But for the first time since arriving in this world…
He wasn't alone.
And that was enough.
Sleep came gently.