The horizon stretched into quiet gold as Team 9 reached the Rokuen Plains. Wind swept through the tall grass, bending it like ocean waves under the touch of the Seravelle sun. But as they neared the Village of Tashi, that calm beauty broke into sothing else—
ash.
The scent of charred wood and faint iron lingered in the air. Cracked soil. Shattered fences. The marks of battle.
Ceyla's eyes scanned the ruins. "This… this isn't natural."
Juno knelt by a deep crater, his palm brushing over the hardened surface. "No affinity residue… this was pure force."
Khael's gaze tightened. He recognized the rhythm of the strikes controlled, compact, devastating.
"Master Vince."
Juno's hand froze midair. His eyes darkened with dread.
Before they could say more, the faint shuffle of footsteps echoed from beyond the broken gates. A man approached, his left arm wrapped in bandages, his skin lined with dust and sweat. He carried a wooden staff carved with the sigil of Stone Resolve.
He looked at them sharply.
"Are you all from the Veinwalker Corps?"
Khael nodded. His crimson insignia glead faintly under the fading light.
"I am Khael Corzedar. Crimson Veinwalker rank."
The villagers nearby gasped. A few stepped back in disbelief. Others dropped to their knees in respect.
"Crimson…?!" one of them whispered. "…Khael…You an the Dragon Knight…?"
The man's eyes widened. His voice faltered.
"You… you're that Khael Corzedar?"
Khael smiled faintly, not in pride, but in quiet humility. "I don't know about that, but yes… I'm Khael."
Juno stepped forward calmly, bowing his head slightly. "Not all of us are affinity users. I'm a Taishin practitioner."
The villager blinked, confused. "Taishin… you an one of the martial monks?"
Juno nodded. "Yes. I trained under Master Vince himself."
The man's face shifted recognition, sorrow, fear. His hand trembled slightly on his staff.
"Then you ca for him."
Khael's expression sharpened. "What do you an?"
The villager hesitated, glancing toward the forest beyond the plains. The trees there looked… wrong. Their bark blackened, branches twisted, the air humming with faint traces of corrupted Shinrei.
"He ca here three weeks ago," the villager said quietly. "He protected us when… when the shadows ca."
Ceyla stepped closer. "Shadows?"
"Voidborn."
A chill passed through the air.
The man continued, his voice heavy with mory.
"Hundreds. No… thousands. The ground cracked, and they spilled out like water. We thought we'd die, but that man, your Master Vince, he fought them alone. With his bare fists."
The villagers who had gathered bowed their heads. So clasped their hands together in silent prayer.
The man's tone trembled as he went on.
"He shattered them. His fists broke the air itself every punch felt like thunder. But then…"
He looked down at the ground, eyes shadowed.
"Then two ca."
Juno clenched his jaw. "Two what?"
The man whispered, voice trembling.
"Two twins. They looked human, but their eyes… no soul. They moved like reflections. Each strike mirrored his. Each breath, each stance… they were studying him."
Khael's eyes narrowed. "Voids…."
The villager nodded faintly.
"He fought until his arm was torn away. Even then, he smiled. He told us to run. Said… 'Tell Isen the storm has shifted.'"
The silence that followed felt like the world holding its breath.
Juno lowered his head. "…Master."
Ceyla's voice broke the quiet. "So he's still alive?"
The villager shook his head slowly. "He was still standing when I last saw him. But the twins disappeared into the forest… and so did he."
Khael turned his gaze toward the dark treeline where the remnants of Shinrei still lingered. His eyes flickered faintly with a crimson glow, his Dragon Veins reacting to the energy in the air.
"He's alive," Khael said firmly. "I can feel his pulse still echoing here. Weak, but not gone."
Juno looked up, his determination reignited. "Then we'll find him."
Ceyla clenched her fists. "And whoever did this—"
"We'll crush them," Khael finished, his voice low, sharp as a blade drawn from the heart.
"His na is Khael Corzedar…" one of the younger villagers whispered, barely audible at first.
"He said he's the Dragon Knight… woah…"
The murmur spread like ripples in still water. Faces once marked by fear now shone with a mixture of awe and disbelief.
An older woman, her hands rough from years of fieldwork, clutched her chest and whispered, "My son… he used to tell stories about you. Said the Dragon Knight burned through a thousand Voidborn"
Khael scratched his cheek and smiled awkwardly. "That's… an exaggeration. It was only eight hundred."
Ceyla gave him a look half amusent, half exasperation.
"Only eight hundred, huh?"
Khael shrugged. "What? I counted."
Androda snorted from behind them, folding his arms. "That's a humble way of saying you nearly turned Veyra into an active volcano."
Matthew chuckled under his breath, but the sound died when he noticed how the villagers were still staring as if the legend had stepped out of myth and into their broken square.
One boy, no older than ten, stepped forward hesitantly, clutching a wooden sword that was cracked down the middle.
"Mister Dragon Knight…" he said, his voice trembling. "Are you… here to save us?"
Khael looked at the boy. The light caught the child's eyes wide, hopeful, naive. For a heartbeat, he saw his own reflection there: the sa fire he once had before the wars, before the scars.
He knelt, placing a hand gently atop the boy's head.
"No," Khael said softly. "I'm here to make sure no one else needs saving."
The boy blinked, confused, but smiled anyway.
Ceyla felt sothing tighten in her chest, the quiet weight of resolve that always ca when Khael spoke like that.
Androda, unable to resist the silence, cleared his throat and said,
"Alright, alright, heartfelt mont over. Anyone else hungry? Because my stomach's conducting a rebellion."
Matthew sighed. "You just ate before we left."
"That was a snack," Androda said, wagging a finger dramatically. "You don't feed an apex tactician with rations, you feed him with a three-course al and existential praise."
Juno raised a brow. "You're really doing this now?"
"Of course. Hunger doesn't respect timing, Juno. It's the truest form of chaos."
The villagers blinked in collective confusion, unsure whether to laugh or stay solemn.
Ceyla just facepald. "You're impossible."
Khael stood, dusting off his gloves. His gaze shifted toward the forest again, where the corrupted wind sighed like a dying breath. The playfulness in his eyes dimd.
"We move in one hour," he said quietly. "Patch your gear, eat, rest if you can. Once we enter that forest, we might not get another chance."
Androda saluted lazily. "Roger that, Commander Dragon Knight."
Khael gave him a sideways glance. "Call that again and you'll be flying back to the academy without wings."
"Noted," Androda said cheerfully, petting his dog Junjun.
"Still a cool title though."
As the team spread out to prepare, the villagers watched them from afar four young warriors laughing softly under a bruised sky, their silhouettes frad by the crimson shimr of dying sunlight.
To be continue
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