Not long after the pale-blonde-haired woman and Adelia left, the portal in the village square glowed.
A bluish-white light flickered briefly, then dimmed.
Four people stumbled out in a hurry—their steps heavy, their breath ragged, and their clothes covered in dust and wounds. They emerged exhausted from running after facing Shura earlier.
"Huff... we finally made it," Kael said, his hands resting on his knees. His breath was still ragged, his back rising and falling rapidly.
"Yeah. I don't want to fight that terrifying enemy again!" Bram added, his axe still gripped tightly in his right hand—though his hand itself was trembling from exhaustion.
Behind them, the portal suddenly flickered.
Then—
CRAAAKK...
Cracks spread across its surface like shattered glass. The bluish-white light wavered for a moment, then vanished. The portal was destroyed, leaving behind only an old stone frame, now cracked and empty.
Kael turned around.
His eyes stared at the cracked stone frame—empty, dark, no longer emitting any light. The air around it felt ordinary. No vibrations. No energy.
"...huff..."
He tried to stand up straight. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, then took a long breath—trying to steady his still-heaving chest.
"...it seems... we can't go back to that forest."
His voice was soft. Not hopeless. But a kind of cold realization that stung more than any scream.
Bram, standing beside him, also straightened up. His axe was still gripped, but its tip now touched the ground—serving as a temporary support.
But—
the moment their eyes truly focused ahead—
they froze.
Both of them.
Kael and Bram.
The village square they once knew—where children ran around in the evening, where mothers sat and chatted while sewing, where men gathered at night to laugh and drink—had now completely changed.
Destroyed.
Shattered.
Massive rubble from the village walls had crushed the wooden shops, flattened houses, and covered the pathways with stone debris still releasing dust. Roofs had collapsed. Wooden pillars lay broken like giant bones. In some corners, fires still burned—small, dim, but not extinguished.
And what made it worse—
many villagers lay scattered on the streets.
Some were crushed under rubble. Some lay alone amid the ruins, their bodies motionless, their faces covered in dust and ash.
No cries.
No footsteps.
No life.
Only a heavy silence, filled with the smell of smoke, ash, and something sharper—a smell no one wanted to recognize.
Kael looked at Rhett.
Rhett was still standing in front of them, frozen. His sword was still gripped, but its tip touched the ground. His body didn't move—only his chest rose and fell slowly.
Darian beside him was also silent. His eyes didn't blink. His face showed no expression—but that was more terrifying than if he were angry.
And Harlan—
Harlan had already been kneeling on the ground since earlier, even before they fully realized it.
Kael couldn't see his face. Only a hunched back, and shoulders trembling silently.
Rhett finally spoke.
"..."
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He tried again.
"...what..."
His breath caught.
"...what exactly happened here?"
The question wasn't directed at anyone. It just came out, like someone trying to comprehend something that didn't make sense.
"...the village square..."
Rhett lifted his head. His eyes swept from one side to another—taking in the ruins, the smoke, the fire, and the motionless bodies.
"...completely destroyed?"
The words felt foreign in his mouth.
As if he were watching a nightmare that refused to end.
Fires still burned in some corners. Black smoke rose thinly into the night sky, carrying tiny embers that floated like fireflies of death.
And amid that silence—
Rhett heard something.
Faint.
Distant.
But real.
Not the voices of surviving villagers.
Not the footsteps of rescuers.
But another sound.
A sound that shouldn't exist in this village.
The sound of monsters.
Many of them.
Hoarse screams, coarse laughter, the thud of feet hitting the ground, and the shifting of rubble—all blending into a single chaotic horror. They seemed to be celebrating in the ruined village. Some jumped atop the rubble, others tore apart the remaining wood and cloth.
Rhett clenched his fists.
His eyes narrowed. His jaw tightened. His chest rose and fell faster—not from exhaustion, but from anger beginning to surge from his gut to his entire body.
"...Rhett... that sound..." Kael murmured softly.
Rhett didn't turn. His eyes remained fixed in the direction of those sounds.
"Yeah..."
His voice was low. Heavy. Like a stone being dragged from the bottom of a well.
"...I understand."
He gripped his sword tighter. His knuckles turned white.
"I'll kill every monster here. Even if it costs me my life."
There was no doubt in his voice.
No fear.
Only anger—pure, cold, and burning.
Kael glanced to the side. His eyes fell on Harlan, still sitting on the ground, his shoulders still trembling slightly. Kael opened his mouth—wanting to scold him, to tell him to calm down, to say something that would make the middle-aged man stand up.
But the words didn't come out.
Because he couldn't blame Harlan.
Anyone would be shocked to see their hometown destroyed by monsters. Anyone would be heartbroken to see familiar faces lying motionless among the ruins.
Kael could only stay silent.
"...Rasa..."
The voice came out softly.
Harlan stood up.
Suddenly.
His eyes were still wet. His body still trembling. But he stood.
"...Rasa..." he repeated, this time a little louder.
Then—
he ran.
Without warning. Without a word.
"Oi, Harlan!"
Rhett turned sharply. He saw Harlan's back growing farther away, crossing the ruins, leaping over debris, passing the bodies of villagers lying along the way.
"TCH... FOLLOW HIM!"
Rhett dashed forward. Kael, Bram, and Darian followed without needing to be told twice.
Harlan kept running.
His lungs felt like they were burning. His legs felt like they would detach from their joints. But he didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
He passed houses he once recognized—now only piles of charred wood. Passed small shops that once bustled—now only scattered debris. Passed bodies that no longer moved—without daring to look back, without daring to stop.
Until finally—
he arrived.
The village well.
The last place he remembered parting with Rasa before leaving the village to enter the forest in search of Cecilia and Lilya with Rhett and the others earlier that afternoon.
Harlan stopped.
His breath came in gasps. His chest rose and fell rapidly. His eyes scanned around the well—empty, silent, no one there.
"...huff..."
He looked left. Right. Behind.
"...she's not here..."
His voice was hoarse. Almost like a whisper he didn't want anyone to hear.
His eyes continued scanning the area around the well—small debris, broken tiles, scattered cloth. And then—
he saw it.
A worn protective bracelet, lying near the well's edge.
With two small ribbons tied neatly to its side.
One pale pink. One light blue.
Harlan recognized it.
Of course he did.
Because that bracelet belonged to Rasa.
And the two small ribbons tied there—gifts from Cecilia and Lilya when they were still children.
He bent down slowly.
His trembling hand picked up the bracelet from the ground. Dust and ash clung to its surface, but the small ribbons were still intact. Still neatly tied. Still the same as before.
Harlan gripped it tightly.
As hard as he could.
As if holding it tightly enough—he could still feel the warmth of his wife lingering on it.
He wanted to hope.
Hope that Rasa had managed to survive. Hope that she was hiding somewhere. Hope that she was still alive.
But this bracelet—
lying on the ground.
Without its owner.
"Harlan!"
Rhett's voice broke the silence.
The man arrived behind him, his breath still heavy, his face tense. Kael, Bram, and Darian followed a few seconds later, forming a half-circle behind Harlan.
"Don't run off recklessly! There are monsters everywhere here. We can't protect you if you're not near us!"
Harlan didn't answer. He just kept staring at the bracelet in his hand.
Rhett saw it.
His eyes fell on the worn protective bracelet with those two small ribbons. Then—
he understood.
His breath caught for a moment. His jaw tightened. But he said nothing.
He only steadied his breath—inhaling deeply, holding it, then exhaling slowly. Trying to calm the emotions that had been building since the moment he first saw the village destroyed.
"Harlan..."
His voice was softer now.
"Your wife will surely survive."
Harlan didn't move.
"There's still Village Chief Cedric. He knows the ins and outs of the village. He must have guided the villagers he could save."
Rhett stepped closer. His large, rough hand rose slowly, then rested on Harlan's right shoulder.
"And there's Elder Harald too."
Harlan finally lifted his head.
Rhett met his gaze directly.
"What we can do now is search the entire village. Look for any survivors who can still be saved."
Harlan fell silent.
His eyes were still red. His breath still heavy.
But slowly—
he placed the bracelet into his waist pouch. Carefully. Like storing something precious.
"...yes."
His voice was hoarse.
But firm.
"This isn't the time to complain. I'm not the only one suffering. Everyone in this village is suffering—even more than I am."
He took a long breath.
Deep.
"Rasa is good at reading situations. She's too kind to others. She must have saved some villagers as best she could."
Rhett looked at him.
Then—he smiled.
A small smile. Tired. But sincere.
"Good."
Kael let out a sigh of relief behind them. Bram nodded quietly. Darian just stared ahead—but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
Harlan looked at Rhett.
Rhett nodded.
"We split up!"
Meanwhile, far from the ruined village and Rhett's group beginning to scatter in search of survivors—
Lilya ran.
Fast.
Darting between the trees with steps nearly soundless. Her blonde hair fluttered in the night wind, the blue-gold mantle on her back moving like a curtain of light following her every movement.
She moved away from the hut where she had fought the Hell Kong.
Away from the crater still smoking.
Away from the monster's body split in two on the ground.
She didn't know exactly where she had to go.
But there was something inside her—something that wasn't hers, yet had now merged with her soul—whispering the direction.
Hikaru's memories.
She used them fully.
During the Sword Saint Legacy event in ERO, the situation was similar to what she was experiencing now. A hidden quest only accessible to players with the Sword Saint class. A secret path leading to the sacred chamber. An ancient inscription.
Lilya kept moving.
Trees blurred past like shadows.
And not long after—
she arrived.
In the heart of the dense forest, among massive tree roots intertwining like giant fingers, stood a stone monument.
As tall as a grown person.
Its surface covered in thick moss, almost hiding the carvings beneath.
But Lilya knew—she was looking at something real.
"This is it... The inscription of the First Sword Saint, Claudia Silverstone."