"Evacuation Notice Delivery Quest: Eastern Border (Pioneer Village)."
My eyes scanned the hastily scrawled lines of text. A minor Dungeon Break had been detected. It wasn't a massive rupture capable of leveling a city in seconds, but rather a 'fissure'—one that was already vomiting forth premature monsters. The kingdom needed someone who could outpace the military's sluggish bureaucracy to deliver an evacuation warning.
There it was again. A faint tremor in my fingertips—the dormant adrenaline that had been quietly hiding behind a routine of watering radishes and brewing coffee.
"Master?"
Six months of living with me had sharpened her instincts. She no longer trembled when she saw my posture stiffen; instead, she braced herself.
"The Eastern Border is fracturing," I said flatly. "I have to leave right now."
I walked over to the weapon rack. My hands grasped the black katana and the steel spear that had spent so long acting as mere decorations. The weight of the steel felt familiar—a burden I was always meant to carry.
"I am coming with you."
I stopped. I looked back at her.
Alicia was standing tall. There was no hesitation in her expression. She was no longer a slave awaiting an order; she was a person claiming her rightful place by my side.
"This isn't a simple courier run, Alicia. That village is about to become a slaughterhouse. You will see things that will make you wish you never had eyes."
"I already saw hell the day my family was destroyed, Master." Her voice was quiet, yet underlined with a fierce, calm fire. "Leaving me behind in a warm house while you walk into a storm... that would hurt far more than the sight of blood. Please. Do not turn me back into a doll."
I stared into her vibrant, crimson eyes. The Pisces side of my nature yielded to her raw honesty, while the Rooster side coldly calculated the risks. Bringing her would slow me down. But leaving her behind meant cutting loose the very anchor to my own humanity.
"Pack your traveling clothes. Five minutes."
"I've had them packed since the moment you took the letter," she replied, gesturing to a small bag resting on the corner of the table.
A faint smile crossed my lips. So brief she likely never even noticed.
Before the city gates, still slumbering beneath the dawn mist, I crouched down.
"Climb on."
Alicia wrapped her arms around my neck without a word. Her physical weight was light, but the burden of responsibility I now carried was immense. I coiled the muscles in my legs. Fibers that had lay dormant for months suddenly flared to life.
CRACK.
The cobblestone beneath my boots shattered as I launched us forward.
We weren't simply running; we were a bullet. The world around us stretched backward, blurring into violent streaks of green and brown. The wind battered our faces with brutal force, tearing away the sound of Alicia's suppressed gasps against my neck. Over lakes, through dense thickets, vaulting across massive tree branches—I didn't stop to draw breath.
It felt nostalgic. The familiar surge of adrenaline. The rapid thumping of my heart against my ribs. I had missed this.
A few hours later, the acrid stench of ammonia and scorched earth pierced my senses.
Pioneer Village. A modest riverside settlement that was now eerily quiet. A wrong kind of quiet.
I set Alicia down in front of the village chief's house. Her legs wobbled briefly before she steadied herself. I handed the parchment to an elderly man, whose weathered face drained of color the moment he read the word 'Evacuation.'
"B-But... our livestock... the harvest..."
RUMBLE...
The earth beneath us groaned. A deep vibration radiated from the hills behind the village.
"Too late," I whispered.