Night had already taken over when they began to move, the kind of night where even the sky felt heavy, as if it were watching but refusing to interfere. The temple stood silent, hidden deep enough that no outsider could sense what was happening inside it, and yet every person there knew that once they stepped out, nothing would be the same again.
They didn't leave together.
They couldn't.
Small groups began to slip out one after another, each one timed, each one spaced carefully so that no pattern could be noticed from the outside. No torches were lit. No instructions were shouted. Even footsteps were controlled, softened against the ground as much as possible.
The people of Miso village slept unaware.
That was the plan.
That had to be the plan.
Inside the temple, the air felt tighter with every group that left. The crowd slowly thinned, voices disappearing, presence fading, until what was once filled with bodies and tension started to feel hollow.
No one spoke loudly.
Most didn't speak at all.
Those who did kept their words short, close, almost swallowed before they fully formed.
Weapons were adjusted in silence. Straps were tightened. Final glances were exchanged not emotional, not dramatic, just enough to acknowledge that they were still there.
Still moving.
Still part of this.
Time stretched.
Minutes felt longer than they should.
Every group that left took a piece of the weight with it, but at the same time, made what remained feel heavier.
An hour passed.
Then more.
No one rushed the process. Rushing meant noise. Noise meant attention. Attention meant failure before it even began.
So they moved carefully.
Patiently.
Like something that had done this before even if most of them hadn't.
At the edges of the temple, the last few groups prepared to leave. They checked each other without words, nodded once, and disappeared into the same darkness that had swallowed the others.
The silence that followed their exit felt different.
Deeper.
Now the temple was no longer a gathering place.
It was emptying.
Nearly two hours passed before it was finally done.
No more footsteps leaving.
No more shadows moving toward the exit.
Only a few remained inside.
Hairo stood near the entrance, his body still but his mind far from it. The quiet around him didn't calm him it made everything louder inside his head. Every step that had echoed before, every voice, every plan… all of it now sat with him.
Cartal stood a few steps ahead, unmoving, as if he had been placed there and left to watch until the end. His grip on his sword was relaxed, but not careless. His eyes moved once across the temple, not searching for anything new just confirming what was already known.
Rensu stood slightly behind, his expression unreadable, his thoughts clearly somewhere deeper than the moment. He wasn't watching the room anymore. He was already ahead of it.
Uri remained still, quiet in a way that didn't feel like calm. His presence didn't fade with the silence it became sharper, more noticeable, as if the less noise there was, the more he existed within it.
Alice leaned lightly against one of the pillars, arms crossed, her gaze fixed toward the exit. There was no impatience in her stance, only readiness.
Marco stood near Hairo, keeping a quiet watch over him without making it obvious. Not protective in a weak way but aware.
Erish adjusted his grip once, then let his hand fall back to his side, his eyes steady, already focused on what came next rather than what was ending.
Cartal finally moved.
Just one step forward.
Then another.
He turned slightly, his gaze passing over each of them not as a leader giving orders, but as someone making sure the right people were still standing.
Still here.
Still ready.
Without saying anything, he turned toward the exit.
That was enough.
The others followed.
They stepped out of the temple one by one, leaving behind the last trace of what had been built there.
No sound followed them.
No sign remained.
The entrance disappeared back into stillness as if nothing had ever existed inside it.
Outside
The night felt wider.
Colder.
More real.
The path ahead wasn't hidden anymore.
It was waiting.
Cartal didn't stop.
He moved forward, and the rest followed without question.
Hairo took one last glance back not long, not enough to slow him down but just enough to feel it.
Then he turned away.
Together They began moving toward Bugo.
Not as a crowd.
Not as an army.
But as something quieter.
Something harder to see.
Night passed.
By the time the sky began to pale again, the night had already stretched into something longer than it should have been.
They didn't stop.
Not fully.
Short pauses. Quick breaths. Then moving again.
What was meant to be a silent exit turned into a silent march.
Half a day.
And a full night.
That's what it took.
Groups that had split apart now began to appear again.
Not all at once.
One by one.
From different paths.
From different directions.
Each carrying dust, exhaustion, and the same quiet understanding.
The dock at Polien, at the edge of Bugo, slowly filled.
Not loudly.
Not suddenly.
But steadily.
Some arrived first and didn't speak.
They just waited.
Watching the water.
Watching the horizon.
Listening for anything that didn't belong.
Others came later, stepping out of the dark like they had been part of it the whole time.
A few nodded at familiar faces.
Most didn't react.
Everyone knew This wasn't the place for relief.
The sea stretched wide in front of them.
Dark.
Restless.
Unforgiving.
Hairo reached with Marco's group not long after.
His steps slowed the moment he saw it.
The water.
Endless.
Moving.
Alive in a way that made him uneasy.
Erish's group was already there.
Positioned slightly away from the rest.
Watching.
Always watching.
Cartal arrived later.
Not rushed.
Not delayed.
Right on time.
His presence alone shifted the weight of the place again.
Rensu and Uri came with him.
Neither spoke.
Neither needed to.
By now Almost all of them had gathered.
Not in formation.
Not in order.
But present.
All two hundred and twenty-seven.
No one celebrated reaching.
No one relaxed.
Because this wasn't the end of the journey.
It was the edge of it.
Cartal looked out at the sea.
Then back at the people.
Then at the boats waiting at the dock.
Cartal: "This is where it gets harder."
No one disagreed.
Because everyone could feel it
The land was behind them.
And what came next Would not forgive mistakes.
Cartal stepped forward onto the dock, the wood creaking slightly under his weight as he looked out over the dark water. The boats tied there were few, broken, or useless for something like this. He didn't waste time staring at them.
He turned back to everyone.
Cartal: "We don't have boats."
A few expected that. Some didn't.
The reaction stayed quiet.
Cartal continued, his voice steady, practical.
Cartal: "But the forest is ours."
Now a few understood.
Others waited.
Cartal: "We build them."
That landed differently.
Cartal: "We cut what we need. We shape it. We move."
No hesitation in his tone.
Cartal: "There's no other way."
He looked across them, making sure no one thought this was optional.
Cartal: "Most of you haven't been home in a while."
That shifted something in the crowd.
Not weakness
Something deeper.
Cartal: "Go."
A few lifted their heads slightly.
Cartal: "Get what you need. Axes. Tools. Anything that helps us move faster."
He gave them a clear limit without needing to explain it.
Cartal: "You don't have time to stay."
That made it real again.
This wasn't a return.
It was a stop.
The crowd began to break again, smaller groups heading back toward the village paths they knew too well.
Not rushed.
But not slow either.
Hairo stood still for a moment.
Alice beside him.
Neither moved immediately.
Alice let out a small breath she didn't realize she was holding.
Alice: "It's been a while."
Hairo nodded.
Not fully calm.
Not fully tense.
Something in between.
Hairo: "Yeah…"
There was something else in his eyes Not just the mission.
Home.
Alice glanced toward the path leading back.
Alice: "You ready?"
Hairo looked in that direction.
Then back at the dock.
Then forward again.
Hairo: "I don't know."
That was honest.
Alice gave a faint smile not light, but real.
Alice: "Same."
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Excitement sat there.
So did uneasiness.
Memories they hadn't touched in a while.
Then Hairo exhaled quietly.
Hairo: "Let's go."
They turned together and started walking toward the village.
Not as fighters.
Not as part of the plan.
But as people going home
Even if only for a moment.
Alice stopped in front of the door for a moment before opening it. Her hand rested on the wood, still, as if something inside was holding it back. Then she pushed it open.
The door creaked softly. The house stood exactly as it was left nothing moved, nothing changed. Dust had settled, but not enough to erase what it used to be.
Hairo stepped in behind her, slower. His eyes moved across the room without stopping on anything for too long. He recognized everything, but he didn't want to.
Alice walked inside, her fingers brushing lightly against the table.
Alice: "Feels smaller…"
Hairo didn't answer. He just stood near the entrance, not fully inside, not fully outside.
Alice turned slightly toward him.
Alice: "You were really small back then. Running around… you wouldn't even stay in one place."
A faint smile came, but it didn't stay.
Alice: "Your father was here too… Thy."
Hairo's expression changed, just a little. Enough.
Alice didn't stop.
Alice: "For those two days… it felt normal. Like nothing was wrong. Like we could just stay like that."
Hairo looked away.
Alice's voice lowered.
Alice: "Then everything changed."
Hairo: "Don't."
It was quiet, but clear.
Alice paused, looking at him.
Hairo: "We don't have time."
He stepped further inside now, but not to stay just to move.
Hairo: "We came for tools. That's it."
Alice watched him for a moment. She understood.
But still
Alice: "First your father left."
Hairo's grip tightened slightly on the edge of the table.
Alice: "Then… you were taken."
Hairo: "I said stop."
This time it was sharper.
Not loud.
But enough.
The room felt heavier now, like it was holding onto something neither of them wanted back.
Hairo didn't look at her.
Hairo: "I don't want to remember that."
No anger in his voice.
Just refusal.
Alice didn't push further.
She turned away, moving toward the corner where tools were kept.
Alice: "Fine."
A small pause.
Alice: "Then don't."
Hairo exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus.
Not the past.
Not this place.
Just what they came for.
Because staying even a moment longer than needed
Felt dangerous.
In just an hour, the shore had changed completely. What was empty before was now filled with movement. Trees had already been cut down, logs dragged across the ground, wood split and shaped. The sound of axes striking, ropes tightening, and wood cracking echoed through the area.
No one waited for orders anymore. They worked like they already understood everything. Some were building the base frames, some cutting planks, others tying structures together so they would hold against the sea. Every movement was fast and precise. There was no space for mistakes.
Rensu moved between groups, watching quietly, correcting where needed without saying much. Uri stayed slightly apart, observing everything, his eyes catching small details others missed.
The boats were starting to take form.
Not perfect.
But enough.
A little away from the main work, Cartal stood still, not looking at the boats, but at Hairo.
Hairo was working without stopping, lifting, cutting, tying like he had done this many times before. There was no hesitation in him.
Cartal walked toward him and stopped a few steps away.
Hairo noticed but didn't stop.
Cartal: "You're keeping up."
Hairo: "I said I could."
Cartal watched him carefully, not just his strength but the way he carried himself.
Cartal: "Erish wasn't wrong."
Hairo paused for a moment, then continued working.
Hairo: "Doesn't matter who's right."
Cartal: "It does now."
Hairo looked at him this time.
Cartal didn't look away.
Cartal: "You're not here because of him."
A small pause.
Cartal: "You're here because you chose to be."
Hairo's grip tightened slightly.
Hairo: "I'm here because I have to be."
Cartal: "That's not the same thing."
Hairo didn't respond. He just worked harder, focusing on the wood in front of him.
Cartal spoke again, calmer but firm.
Cartal: "This isn't something you can walk away from."
Hairo: "I know."
Cartal: "Once it starts "
Hairo: "I know."
He cut him off, not angrily, just certain.
Cartal studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod.
Cartal: "Good."
He turned and walked away.
Behind them, the first boat was already standing. Then another. And another.
They were building fast.
Faster than they should have been able to.
But they didn't stop.
Because once those boats were ready
They were going to Kiopa.
And there would be no turning back.
Uri stood still for a moment, his eyes not on the boats, not on the people somewhere further than all of it.
Uri: "This is our last mission."
He said it simply, like he was stating something already decided.
Rensu glanced at him, just for a second, then went back to tying the rope in his hands.
Rensu: "Might be."
Uri didn't correct him.
Didn't repeat himself.
He just shifted his gaze back to the work in front of them.
Rensu tightened the knot and pulled it firm.
Rensu: "I'm a fifty-nine-year-old monk."
A faint, almost careless tone.
Rensu: "If it ends here… I won't complain."
Uri watched him quietly for a moment, then looked away again.
Around them, no one stopped. No one reacted much. The words passed through like everything else.
Work continued.
Wood struck wood.
Ropes pulled tight.
Because whether it was the last mission or not
By the time the sun had shifted, the work was done.
Rough.
Heavy.
But ready.
The boats stood lined along the shore, uneven in shape but strong enough to carry them across.
No one celebrated.
They just looked once
Then moved.
One by one, the boats were pushed forward. Wood scraped against sand, then met the water. The first wave hit, testing the build. It held.
Others followed.
Soon, the shore was filled with boats half in water, half still touching land.
Cartal stepped forward.
Cartal: "Move."
No delay.
People started getting in, spreading out exactly how they had planned. Weight balanced, no overcrowding, no confusion.
Paddles were picked up.
Rensu stepped into one of the boats, steady despite his age. Uri followed, silent as always. Hairo climbed in with the others, gripping the edge for a moment before settling.
The water shifted under them.
Unstable.
Alive.
Cartal looked across all boats one last time.
Cartal: "Push off."
The final contact with land broke.
Boats drifted out slowly
Then the paddles hit the water.
Together.
Again.
Again.
The rhythm formed quickly.
Clean.
Controlled.
The shore of Bugo started to move away.
No one looked back for long.
Because ahead
There was only Kiopa.
And whatever was waiting for them there
Was already ready.
The boats drifted just enough to clear the shore.
For a brief moment, they moved without direction
Then Cartal's voice cut through everything.
Cartal: "Everyone, move forward!"
Paddles struck the water together.
Once.
Then again.
The motion wasn't perfect at first, but it didn't need to be. Within seconds, rhythm formed. Each boat adjusted, matching pace, cutting through the water in steady lines.
Water splashed against the sides. Wood creaked under pressure. But nothing broke.
Rensu kept his balance easily, his movements controlled as he rowed. Uri didn't rush, but every stroke he made was precise. Hairo pushed harder than most, his grip tight, his focus straight ahead.
No one spoke now.
They didn't need to.
Cartal stood at the front of one boat, eyes fixed on the horizon.
Cartal: "Keep the line. Don't spread too far."
The formation tightened.
Boat after boat aligned, moving like one body instead of many.
The distance between them and the shore grew with every stroke.
Bugo was already fading behind them.
The sea opened ahead.
Cold.
Wide.
Unforgiving.
But they didn't slow.
Because turning back
Was no longer an option.
By the next morning, the sea had changed.
The long stretch of water behind them was now quiet, distant, almost unreal. The night had passed without rest, only steady movement, paddles rising and falling in rhythm until it became instinct.
And then
Land.
Kiopa.
At first, just a dark shape against the horizon.
Then clearer.
Closer.
The island stood still in the early light, surrounded by sharp cliffs and rough edges, like it didn't want to be reached. The waves struck against the rocks harder here, breaking with force.
The boats slowed.
Not by order
But by instinct.
Everyone was looking at it now.
Cartal stepped forward slightly, his eyes fixed on the island.
Cartal: "This is it."
No one replied.
They didn't need to.
Rensu watched quietly, his expression unchanged, but his grip on the paddle had tightened just enough.
Uri's gaze moved across the island, not just seeing it reading it.
Hairo leaned forward slightly, his eyes locked on the cliffs ahead.
No excitement.
No fear.
Just focus.
The boats moved closer, carefully now, avoiding the sharper rocks as they searched for a place to land.
The sound of waves grew louder.
Stronger.
Real.
Cartal raised his hand slightly.
Cartal: "Slow it down."
The paddles eased.
The boats drifted the last stretch.
Kiopa was no longer distant.
It was right in front of them.
And whatever waited on that island was no longer something ahead.
It had already begun.
The boats touched the shore one by one, wood pressing against wet sand as the waves pushed them forward and pulled them back.
No one rushed out.
They stepped down carefully, boots sinking slightly into the cold ground of Kiopa. The air felt different here, heavier, quieter, like the island itself was watching them arrive.
All 227 gathered close, not in perfect lines, but close enough.
Cartal stepped forward.
He didn't raise his voice, but everyone heard him.
Cartal: "From here… there's no turning back."
The words settled into them. Not loud, but final.
Cartal: "We didn't come this far to fail."
His eyes moved across all of them, stopping nowhere, yet seeing everyone.
Cartal: "We will win."
A slight pause, his grip tightening on his sword.
Cartal: "We take Thy back."
The name carried weight. It straightened backs, sharpened focus.
Cartal: "And don't die easily."
A few shifted slightly at that, but no one spoke.
Cartal: "There's always someone waiting for you."
His tone didn't soften, but something in it changed.
Cartal: "And if there isn't…"
He lifted his sword just a little.
Cartal: "Then die in a way that means something."
No cheers followed. No shouting.
Just silence, heavy and ready.
Cartal lowered his sword.
Cartal: "Move."
And just like that, they stepped onto Kiopa.
Everyone took their positions.
Cartal was ready. Everyone was ready.
The first signal was taken by Marco.
A small explosion was set off by Cartal's team.
As soon as it exploded, Marco's team triggered a bigger explosion on the backside of the wall.
The ground shook. Dust rose into the air.
Kiopa had been breached.