The expedition group traveled at a good pace.
They had been traveling the entire day, their shadows stretching and shrinking and stretching again as the hours passed.
By evening, they reached another town—still within the borders of the Epsos Empire. A modest settlement of stone and timber, with smoke curling from chimneys and the distant sound of a blacksmith's hammer ringing through the square.
They stayed overnight at an inn. The group ate their dinner in near silence, too tired for conversation, then retired to their rooms.
Before dawn broke the next morning, they were already on the road again.
Throughout their journey that day, Kaiser felt… off.
It was not a sensation he was accustomed to. There was this was a prickling feeling at the back of his neck. He could sense something, but he wasn't sure what.
During the midday halt, while the others rested in a small clearing off the main road, Kaiser scouted the surrounding area. He moved through the trees like a shadow. He checked the road behind them. He climbed a rocky outcrop and scanned the horizon with his piercing red eyes.
Nothing.
No signs of pursuit. No traps. No ambush.
And yet, the feeling did not go away.
What is it? he thought, returning to the clearing. What am I not seeing?
It was a long way to the lost city of gold. They had weeks of travel ahead of them. But was the being that Ayumu had spoken of already following them? Already aware of their intentions? Already watching from a distance?
It can't be.
He sat down on a fallen log at the edge of the clearing.
"What's got you on your toes?"
The voice came from beside him—loud, as always, and utterly lacking in subtlety. Drobar lowered himself onto the log, his weight making the wood creak in protest. He shoved a bowl of stew toward Kaiser with one thick hand.
Kaiser took it. "...Nothing of concern."
Drobar studied him for a moment—a rare flicker of observation in those usually boisterous eyes. Then his face split into a wide, knowing grin.
"Are you missing Lady Ayumu already?"
Kaiser's grip on the bowl tightened.
"Oh, lover boy is in love~" Drobar sang, his voice rising in mockery. "He is—hmphhhhh—"
Black shadow erupted from Kaiser's shoulder like a striking serpent. It coiled around Drobar's mouth, cutting off his words mid-syllable. The large man's eyes went wide. He grabbed at the shadow with both hands, fingers sinking into nothing but smoke and darkness, and began to struggle—muffled sounds of protest coming from behind the seal.
Drobar's companion knight, a stoic man with an orichalcum gauntlet gleaming on his left hand, reached over and began trying to pry the shadow loose.
From across the clearing, Rhea set down her bowl with a sigh of relief.
"Thank you, Lord Kaiser," she said. "That loudmouth was yapping all day, and I was starting to get a headache."
Fifi, seated cross-legged on a large rock, raised one hand excitedly. "Should we put a spell on his mouth as well? I could make it so that every time he tries to speak, he only croaks like a frog—"
"HMPH!?" Drobar's muffled protest was unmistakably indignant.
Fifi grinned.
The other knight, Osmund, continued pulling at the shadow.
Then, a voice—"Lord Kaiser."
Kaiser turned to Levain.
The water magis had been sitting apart from the group, his back against a tree, his bowl of food untouched in his lap. He was a lean man that had light blue hair with sharp features and sharp blue eyes—the kind of eyes that missed nothing. He had spoken rarely during the journey, content to observe rather than participate.
Now, those eyes were fixed on Kaiser with quiet intensity.
"Your suspicion is correct," Levain said.
Kaiser went very still. "How?"
"Because I can feel it too."
The clearing fell silent. Even Drobar stopped struggling, his muffled protests dying in his throat as he sensed the shift in the air. Fifi's grin faded. Rhea straightened. The other knight's hands paused on Drobar's shadow-bound face.
Kaiser set down his bowl. "Explain."
Levain tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something far away—something only he could hear.
"The air," he began, "has a lot of moisture. Even on a dry day, there is water vapor. It moves. It shifts. It carries with it the traces of everything that passes through it." He closed his eyes. "As a tracker, we water magis can movements within a small radius—five to ten metres, sometimes more. I will do it for 1 or 2 minutes within an hour so it dosent use up my energy."
He opened his eyes.
"Whenever I do it, I have felt a shift in the air at a distance. A small disturbance. Like a small beast moving fast—but maintaining distance. Never approaching. Never leaving. Just… staying."
Kaiser's expression did not change. But something cold settled in his chest.
Waiting, he thought. It is staying just out of reach. Watching. Just like Ayumu said.
"What kind of beast is it?" Fifi asked.
Levain shook his head slowly. "I will not be able to know what it is. All I know is it moves fast. It is not an animal. Animals are erratic. This is measured. This moves with purpose."
Kaiser rose from the log, his red eyes sweeping across the group.
"With that said," he announced, his voice carrying the weight of command, "I think it is best for all of us to be on alert while traveling. Finish up your food. We will keep moving."
Fifi tilted his head, one of his glowing tattoos catching the dappled sunlight. "Are you not going to tell us what it is? The being? The thing following us?"
Kaiser's jaw tightened. "I also have no clue what it is. But Lady Ayumu did warn me about it." He paused, the words feeling inadequate even as he spoke them. "It is not dangerous… yet."
Fifi let out a hollow laugh. "Oh, great. So we'll just be bait until it decides to be dangerous. Wonderful. Fantastic. I feel so much better."
"HAAAAAA! HAAAAAA!"
The sound came from behind them—a gasping, desperate heaving of air. Drobar had finally wrenched the last of the shadow from his mouth, his face red, his chest heaving. He turned on Kaiser, eyes blazing.
"You bastard!" he roared, jabbing a thick finger toward the black magis. "You were trying to kill me!"
Kaiser did not even glance in his direction. He simply walked past Drobar toward his horse, adjusting the straps of his saddle with calm, deliberate movements.
Drobar stood there, arm still extended, mouth still open, utterly ignored.
Rhea patted him on the shoulder as she passed. "Come on. Finish your food."
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They departed soon after.
Everyone was on alert—eyes scanning the treeline, hands resting near weapons, ears straining for any sound that did not belong.
They camped that night in a small clearing, the fire kept deliberately low. Watches were assigned and rotated: one person awake every 2 hours.
There should be another two nights in the forest, and they would reach the shore—the place where the boat would carry them to the legendary land.
Paititi. The once-called City of Gold.
Morning came slowly, the sun filtering through the canopy in pale golden shafts.
One by one, the group stirred from their bedrolls, stretching stiff limbs and rubbing sleep from their eyes. The fire had died to embers.
Levain was the first to notice it.
He had been folding his bedroll when his eyes caught something at the edge of the clearing—a small object, carefully placed on a flat stone near the treeline. He rose and walked toward it, his footsteps silent on the mossy ground.
It was a basket.
Woven from fresh leaves— the kind of weaving that required patience and skill. And inside the basket, piled in a neat, almost reverent heap, were berries. Small. Plump. Dark purple with a dusting of morning dew.
Levain crouched beside it, studying it without touching.
"Rhea," he called, his voice calm but carrying. "Did you put this here?"
Rhea looked up from her pack, frowning. She crossed the clearing and knelt beside Levain, peering into the basket.
"No," she said slowly. She reached out and picked up one of the berries, turning it between her fingers. "These are edible. A sweet variety." She set the berry back and touched the basket itself. "And the basket… the leaves are woven. They're still fresh. Cut recently."
Kaiser, who had been tightening his saddle straps, stopped mid-motion.
His red eyes flashed.
"Who was on watch for the night," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "and did not realize this?" He gestured sharply toward the basket. "An enemy slipped into our defenses—just like that—put that there, and no one saw anything?"
Drobar straightened up from his bedroll, crossing his arms.
"You were on watch too, Lord Kaiser," he said, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Did that slip your mind? We took turns. It might have been you who also didn't realize it."
The two men locked eyes—red glaring into brown, tension crackling between them like lightning before a storm.
Rhea stepped between them, hands raised.
"Come on, you two. Don't fight." She looked down at the basket, then back at the men. "Think about it. If it was an enemy, it would have slit our throats already. Not given us a bunch of berries."
The words hung in the air. Quiet fell over the clearing.
Drobar scratched his head. Fifi rubbed his chin. Levain stared at the basket with narrowed eyes. Even the silent knight, whose name none of them had bothered to learn, furrowed his brow in thought.
They were all trying to solve the same puzzle.
Then Rhea's expression shifted. Her eyes widened slightly.
"Unless…" she murmured.
"Unless what?" Fifi leaned forward.
"What is it, Rhea?" Levain asked.
Rhea looked around at the group, then beckoned Drobar closer with a curl of her finger.
"Sir Drobar," she whispered. "Hit me."
Drobar blinked. "Wha—what? Why would I?"
"Just pretend!"
"…Oh." He paused. "Okay."
He raised his hand and brought it down on her arm—a pathetic little smack, the kind of tap you might use to wake a sleeping cat. It barely made a sound.
Rhea looked at her arm. Then at Drobar. Then at her arm again.
She sighed.
Then she dramatically crumpled to the ground, one hand pressed to her forehead, the other splayed out beside her.
"Oh no!" she cried, her voice flat and utterly unconvincing. "I have fallen down! Sir Drobar has hit me! I am injured!"
The men stared.
Drobar's mouth hung open.
Kaiser pinched the bridge of his nose. "What are you doing, Miss Rhea?"
And then—
Rustle.
From the top of a tree not far away—a tall oak with thick branches and dense foliage—the leaves began to move. Not from the wind. Not from a bird. A deliberate, agitated shaking, as if something hidden among the branches was watching the scene below.
Everyone snapped to attention.
Weapons were drawn in an instant. Bodies shifted into combat stances.
Levain moved first.
His hands swept forward, and orbs of water shot from his palms—dense, heavy spheres that whistled through the air and slammed into the tree's canopy with explosive force. Leaves and twigs rained down.
Fifi followed immediately after, his glowing tattoos flaring bright. Small balls of light launched from his fingertips. When they made contact with the tree, they burst like fireworks, sending arcs of light streaming in every direction.
The tree shook. Something had moved out of that tree.