Trouble At Home
Still.
We were at an impasse.
I wanted to go. The spirits wanted me to leave—now, at all costs.
But they wouldn’t tell me why. And I couldn’t accept fear without a reason.
“If I’m your new friend,” I said, keeping my voice gentle, “then tell me why you’re so afraid of showing me the way. What’s happening there?”
My tone softened—but I kept the mana imbue steady.
That was the strange part about speaking to spirits. They didn’t just hear the meaning. They felt the shape of it—the pressure, the intent, the emotion riding inside the mana.
If that weren’t true, my concern wouldn’t reach them at all.
The three little lights wavered, still wary. My gentleness made them hesitate… but it didn’t make them trust me.
Not until one finally spoke.
“M-Mother is angry,” a tiny voice chirped, trembling. “Mother has been in a sour mood lately.”
The spirit that spoke drifted closer than the others. Only then did I see it clearly—like a little flower hat fused to its glow, petals clinging to its head as if it had grown that way.
Spirits were small, but up close you could see their differences—color, shape, quirks that made them feel like living beings instead of floating lanterns.
Mother? I questioned. I thought spirits were born from emotions and high densities of mana.
The flower-crowned spirit lowered her face. Sadness pulsed through her light.
“She’s… sad,” she added, voice tightening, “and if Krai goes near her, she will kill Krai.”
It was almost cute, seeing her try so hard to sound serious.
Almost.
“But why me?” I asked, brows knitting.
“It’s because Krai was present the day she woke up…”
That answer only made my frustration deepen.
It didn’t explain Marcus. It didn’t explain the fear. It didn’t explain why the forest itself felt wrong.
“Is everything okay, Young Master?” Mariada asked softly.
I didn’t answer with words. I just looked at her and let my face do it for me—assurance, even if it was forced.
Because the truth was, I was getting irritated.
I kept pulling at the spirits for the full story, but all I got were scattered pieces. The more I asked, the more the picture refused to form.
And none of the others could hear what I was hearing. Even Asahi couldn’t catch the spirits’ replies the way I could—lesser spirits answered the mana signature that spoke, and right now, that was mine.
To everyone else, it just looked like I was arguing with three lights.
“But I have friends with me,” I said, keeping my voice firm. “We can protect each other.”
“No!” the flower-crowned spirit snapped, her light flashing sharply. “Mother is much stronger than Krai and Krai’s friends. Krai will not survive fighting Mother!”
“Yes,” one of the other spirits chimed in, panicked. “Krai, go back!”
Ugh. Stubborn little things.
But something about what they said stuck.
Mother is much stronger than we are…
Was that why they refused to go near her? Not only fearing for themselves… but fear of being swept away if she lashed out.
I exhaled slowly, then tightened my resolve.
“If Krai can prove He'll survive meeting Mother,” I said, “will you lead Krai to the place where the human died?”
The spirits froze.
“…Ah…”
They stared at me like they weren’t sure whether to laugh or run.
And I realized—at some point, I’d started speaking like them. Simple words. Direct. Even my tone carried that strange little rhythm.
I couldn’t help the smirk that came with it.
They probably thought I was bluffing. They could sense mana. They could sense danger. And they’d judged us already.
We were weak in their eyes.
But I wasn’t planning to convince them with a speech or my own power.
I was going to convince them with the power of an ancient being.
“Okay,” the flower-crowned spirit said cautiously, “if Krai can prove he will survive meeting Mother… then we will take him to where the human died.”
I turned toward Asahi, who’d been waiting with the patience of someone used to watching me wrestle pride and desperation at the same time.
“Asahi,” I said, voice sharp with certainty. “Show them.”
He blinked. “Show them what?”
“The power of us Arch Humans,” I said. Then I pointed with my chin. “Show them, Rita.”
For a heartbeat, Asahi looked surprised—then a grin tugged at his mouth, almost pleased.
“Summoning magic…” he said, calm and practiced. “Rita.”
This time, there was no drawn-out ritual. No dramatic praying posture.
Just a clean call.
Light poured into the air—bright and warm—and Rita emerged like a small sun given shape. Her golden aura made her look divine, even when she wasn’t trying.
The lesser spirits recoiled, then hovered in awe.
Urizee stared too, wide-eyed, as if the light had reached a place in her that words never could.
Even Mariada’s expression softened.
I turned back to the spirits with a satisfied smile.
“So,” I said, “will you show me the way now?”
“Krai is strong…” one spirit whispered.
The flower-crowned spirit drifted closer, hesitant. “Okay. We will take Krai to where the human died. But…”
She paused, and her light trembled.
“Promise not to hurt Mother.”
I placed my right hand against my chest.
“I promise,” I said. “I won’t hurt Mother. Even if she attacks us… I won’t kill her.”
Reina finally spoke from behind us, voice steady. “So we can go now?”
“Yes,” I said, the words tasting like iron. “Let’s go say goodbye.”
We started walking, following the three little spirits as they led us deeper into the Zeus Woods.
As we moved, I explained to the others what had been said—what “Mother” meant, why the spirits refused, and what they believed waited ahead.
A Superior Spirit.
That alone was enough to make the air feel heavier. And it also meant one thing I didn’t want to admit out loud:
If the spirit in that place truly killed Sir Marcus… I didn’t know if I could keep my promise.
My mouth had spoken mercy.
But my face—my heart—carried something else.
Contempt.
Resentment.
Because “Mother” had torn Sir Marcus away from us. And the deeper we followed the spirits, the more the forest seemed to agree with my anger.
※※※
The moment we left the Mist Country, Tessa wasted no time.
She said a quick goodbye to Airi at the house, left her with the quiet responsibilities of home, and headed straight for the forest—alone.
The ancient ruins lay within Mist Country’s forest, far enough from the village that most people didn’t go there—in fact, they were forbidden from going near that place.
Tessa moved through the trees with practiced calm, walking as if the forest belonged to her.
Then she felt it.
A shift.
A familiar pressure in the air—faint, but unmistakable.
Her steps slowed without her permission.
And when the mouth of the Nether Cave came into view—hidden in the rock face like a wound in the earth—Tessa stopped cold.
There was no mist to distort space like usual. It was open to the public eye.
No.
She couldn’t breathe for a heartbeat.
Could it be…?
Tessa rushed forward as if the cave might vanish if she blinked. She slipped inside, eyes scanning, heart beating too loud against the stone.
When she reached the middle, she stopped and forced air into her lungs.
She turned left. Then right.
Empty.
The cavern that should have carried a dragon’s presence felt hollow. Only flame manacytes remained—patched across the walls and floor like quiet embers trapped in stone. And the katana stand sat where it always did...
But the cave itself felt abandoned.
After a long moment, Tessa swallowed.
“Lord Zeraff…” she said aloud, voice low. “What does this mean?”
No answer came.
Only the cave’s silence returned her words to her.
Tessa closed her eyes once, thinking fast.
I’ll have to inform the Young Master of this when he returns.
Then she moved.
She returned to the entrance, thrust her hand forward, and spoke the spell like a command.
“Veil of Fire.”
The doorway sealed instantly—fire blooming into a wall that burned without flicker, without smoke, without any intention of dying.
Only after the barrier was in place did Tessa reach into her pack.
She drew out the Void Cup—still encased in ice—and set it down with care.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Alright,” she murmured to herself. “Let’s see what you really are.”
And in the ruins of the forest, far from anyone who could be harmed by curiosity, Tessa began her investigation.
※※※
While Tessa was gone, Airi didn’t stay alone.
She packed a basket of food from the house and went down the plateau—the long slope that connected the high ground to the village below. Along the way, she greeted elders and girls her age, receiving the same greetings back.
It was a calm day in the village.
Airi reached the small two-room hut where she stayed whenever she wasn’t on the plateau.
“I’m home,” she said, pushing the door aside.
She stepped inside and placed the basket on the table.
“Big brother?” she called.
No answer.
She moved to the next room, pushed aside the cloth curtain, and found the sleeping space empty.
I guess he’s not home.
Since her brother wasn’t around, she decided not to waste the trip. She tied on an apron and began preparing the food she’d brought—house food, the kind that made villagers stare when they smelled it.
Wooden plates filled the table. Lavish by village standards. Enough for two and then some.
When she was about to take off her apron, the door rustled.
A tall figure stepped in.
“Hm.” His eyes swept the room. “Airi—what are you doing here?”
Her brother—Dake—stood in the doorway.
Airi frowned and set the apron down slowly.
“Is that how you greet your little sister?” she asked.
Dake walked in, rubbing the back of his head, surprised more than annoyed. “No. I’m just… surprised to see you, that’s all.”
He was a strapping young dark elf, lean and trained—someone who hunted and practiced, not someone who sat around waiting for life to change. He had the same hair color as Airi, the same eyes.
A kind face and clouded morals.
“I thought I’d visit,” Airi said. “Since you never bother to come to the plateau.”
“Listen, about that…” Dake sighed. “I’ve just been busy lately.”
“Busy with what?” she pressed.
His eyes snapped to the table as if it had saved him.
“Hey… you brought food.”
Airi’s irritation softened before she could stop it. Warmth always did this to her—especially when it came from him.
“I figured you must be tired of barbecued meat every day,” she said, handing him a cloth for his hands. “So I brought some dishes from the house.”
She sat beside him as he ate like he hadn’t tasted a real meal in days, watching him with her elbow propped and her cheek resting on her palm.
“You really outdid yourself, sis,” Dake said between bites. “This is delicious.”
Airi closed her eyes, embarrassed. “I’m glad you like it. But I’m not the one who made it.”
Dake blinked, mouth still full. “What? That kid has a new housekeeper now?”
Airi’s eyes narrowed instantly.
“That ‘kid’ is Master Asahi,” she corrected.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dake waved her off, already returning to the food. Then his gaze sharpened. “Anyway… you really just came here to visit?”
“Yes. Why is that so hard to believe?”
“I’m just saying… won’t they need you up there?”
“At the moment, there’s no one at the house,” Airi said. “Young Master Krai and Master Asahi left with everyone. The plateau will be empty for a while.”
Dake stopped eating.
Slowly, he set his utensil down and looked at her like a thought had finally caught up to him.
“Airi,” he said. “Do you actually approve of this sudden change in lordship?”
Airi’s posture straightened.
“What are you saying?”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Dake said, leaning back. “Change is fine. But a kid ruling over us?” He scoffed. “That’s gotta be a joke.”
Airi’s voice sharpened. “The Young Master is a wonderful person. Despite his age, he’s kinder than most people here.”
Dake’s eyes hardened.
“By ‘kind,’ you mean bringing those detestable beastmen into our village?”
Airi’s stomach dropped.
“Big brother.” Her tone turned cold. “That’s beneath you.”
“What do you have against the Young Master… and the beastmen?” she demanded. “They’ve never done anything to you.”
“They’ve never done anything?” Dake’s voice rose. “Did you forget what people say? They’re the reason we’re stuck in this place!”
“Brother, listen—” Airi tried to calm him.
But rage was already eating him from the inside.
“No!” he snapped. “I won’t stand for someone who doesn’t consider our feelings! How can he just up and bring demihumans to our village without consulting us? Doesn't he know anything?”
"Well..." Airi stammered.
His eyes burned as he stared at her.
“Airi, why are you defending him so much, huh?”
“I…” Her throat tightened. The answer wouldn’t come out clean enough. Not in time.
“Tch.”
Dake shoved his chair back. "I just lost my appetite."
He turned for the door.
“Big brother, wait—”
He left without looking back, the door creaking behind him.
Airi sat frozen at the table, her hands hovering over plates that suddenly looked too expensive, too useless.
Why… was he so angry about the Young Master?
※※※
Dake didn’t go hunting as usual.
He went to a hut near the edge of the village—one of those places that always smelled like beer and smoke, where young men gathered after hunts to eat, drink, and complain.
He pushed inside.
Men sat in groups. A low roar of laughter filled the space. Among them was a middle-aged dark elf with hair overdue for a cut, tied in the back, and the posture of someone used to being obeyed.
“Dake!” the man called, raising a mug. “Nice of you to return.”
"Foreman," Dake said. Calling the man by the respect they showed him.
Dake sat with the group. A dark-elf woman brought him a drink. He thanked her and drank without hesitation.
“Why so early, my boy?” The Foreman asked.
“It’s my sister,” Dake muttered.
“Hahaha!” The Foreman laughed. “You siblings shouldn’t be fighting.”
“Yeah,” Dake said, jaw tight. “Impossible when we don’t agree. Why does she defend that child so much?”
He took another sip.
The man’s smile thinned. His voice lowered.
“By ‘child’… You mean the new lord?”
“Yes!” Dake said. “She keeps going on about how wonderful he is. She even welcomed those beastmen with open arms... Does she really think we can live in harmony?”
The man leaned forward, eyes gleaming with conviction that didn’t feel earned.
“That is why we must do something about this tyranny,” he said. “If we take out that Lord Child, she’ll be free of the poison they fed her.”
Dake stared into his mug for a long moment.
"Listen, Dake. Without you, we can put our plan in motion," The Foreman said, words of praise. " You are our strongest hunter here."
The man looked Dake in the face, placed a mug of beer close to him, and said.
"Join us, and your sister can be free," He appealed.
The hut waited in silence now.
What Drove Dake was not the ideals of the people in the hut with him, but his love for his sister. The Foreman saw that and appealed to his desires.
Pulling on the heartstrings of his sister's love.
Finally, Dake exhaled.
“Fine. I’ll join you,” he said.
The Foreman’s smile returned—wider.
“In fact,” Dake added, “I have information that will help with our cause.”
“Oh?” the man said smoothly. “Tell me.”
“Everyone left,” Dake said. “My sister said the young lord went to the outside… and he took everyone with him. They’ll be gone for a while.”
The man’s eyes lit up as if the world itself had just offered him a knife.
“Excellent,” he breathed. “If they’re gone, this gives us time to prepare.”
“Exactly,” Dake agreed.
The Foreman stood with his arms open as if welcoming destiny.
“Listen up, man!” he shouted. “The time to take back our freedom has come. Tonight, we prepare for the battle ahead!”
The hut erupted.
“But we cannot win this battle alone.” The Foreman continued, voice rising. “Our enemy is powerful. If we faced them, they would destroy us."
He paused, the room falling into a quiet despair.
"Do not fear—we will enlist the aid of the Ogre!" His voice rose again. "They, too, must be eager to be free!”
He stepped forward, fist clenched.
“Let’s rise together… and win!”
“Yesss!” the hut roared back, becoming a loud house of hungry certainty.
Only Dake looked less convinced than the others.
But he still lifted his mug.
A hand clapped his shoulder again.
“Don’t worry,” The Foreman said, pleased. “Thanks to you, we have our chance.”
Dake gave a small nod, swallowed his drink, then shouted with them anyway.
Let's save this village, the Foreman thought.
And then he smiled as if he could already taste victory.
