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  The bustling streets of the town were alive with chatter and movement as Kael, Quin, and Wallz made their way through the market district. Small and large shops lined either side of the cobblestone road, their wooden signs swaying slightly with the breeze. The air was thick with the scent of fresh bread, roasted meats, and the sharp tang of iron from the blacksmith’s forge.

  As they moved along, Wallz took it upon himself to point out the various establishments. “This here is the best bakery in town,” he said with a grin. “And that shop over there sells fine leather goods—good quality, but expensive.” He continued listing the shops, his voice animated, but Kael merely listened in silence.

  At some point, Wallz suddenly stopped before a modest tailor’s stall. He glanced at Kael’s worn cloak before turning to the vendor. “That black hooded cloak, the smooth one—wrap it up.”

  Kael turned his head slightly, sensing what was happening. “Wallz, there’s no need,” he murmured, his tone calm but firm.

  Wallz chuckled as he handed the vendor a few silver coins. “It’s a gift, Sir Kael."

  Kael sighed, recognizing that Wallz would not back down. “You truly don’t need to—”

  “Let me do what I want,” Wallz interrupted with a playful smirk, pressing the bundle into Kael’s hands. He had already made up his mind, and Kael, feeling weary of protesting, simply relented.

  Their journey led them to a small, simple inn at the edge of the district. The building was humble, its wooden structure aged yet well-maintained. A warm glow spilled from its windows, and the scent of stew and ale drifted out from within. The moment they stepped inside, a hush fell over the room.

  Patrons glanced up from their meals, their eyes lingering on the three figures who had entered. A few of them recognized Wallz and greeted him with familiarity, calling out his name. One man, a burly fellow with a thick beard, squinted at Kael and Quin before asking curiously, “Wallz, who are these two?”

  Wallz grinned as he clapped a hand on Quin’s shoulder. “They’re the ones who saved me from those damned attackers,” he announced proudly.

  Murmurs of surprise rippled through the room. Another patron, an older man nursing a tankard of ale, narrowed his eyes at Kael’s fully covered form. “Why’s that one all wrapped up like that?”

  Wallz leaned in slightly and whispered, “Sir Kael has a weak and fragile body. And he’s blind.”

  A few gasps followed, and the room’s atmosphere shifted. Some of Wallz’s friends exchanged glances, their curiosity turning into quiet sympathy.

  Meanwhile, Kael and Quin moved towards a table near the window. In his act as a blind man, Kael misjudged a step and bumped into a chair. Quin, his lips pursed in concern, quickly reached out to steady him. “Young master Kael—”

  “I didn’t see the small chair there,” Kael interjected calmly, his voice unwavering.

  Quin paused before simply nodding. “Oh.” He then helped Kael to sit, making sure he was comfortable before taking a seat himself.

  A young inn worker approached them, a notebook in hand. “What can I get for you?”

  Kael’s response was simple. “A warm tea.”

  Quin placed an order for himself before also requesting meals for the table. As he busied himself arranging the items Wallz had bought, Kael suddenly spoke. “That sword is suitable for you,” he said, his tone measured.

  Quin’s hands stilled as he looked up at his young master. “Hm?”

  Kael continued in a calm, patient manner. “Your aura matches that blade. You are strong, and that sword would serve you better than your old one.”

  Quin blinked before nodding slowly, processing the words. He had never considered his aura in such a way, but if Kael said so, there must be truth to it.

  Their drinks arrived shortly after, and Quin quietly poured tea into Kael’s cup. As Kael sipped it, he turned slightly towards Quin. “Is there anything else you need to buy before we return to the Vladimir estate?”

  Quin thought for a moment before nodding. “I need to buy some potions.”

  Kael gave him a nod of approval. “Go.”

  However, Quin hesitated. His eyes flickered towards Kael, reluctant to leave him alone. After a brief pause, he turned to Wallz, who was still talking with his friends. “Wallz, look after my young master for a while.”

  Wallz waved a hand in easy agreement. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.”

  Satisfied, Quin left the inn, his figure disappearing into the bustling street. Kael let out a soft sigh as he turned his gaze to the window, the steaming tea in his hands untouched. The town outside was lively—vendors calling to customers, children laughing as they weaved through the crowd, the rhythmic clatter of hooves and wagon wheels on stone.

  But something shifted.

  Beneath his covered eyes, Kael’s vision of the world was unique. He could not see in the way others did, but he could perceive the energy that surrounded him—the soft glow of life, the faint traces of mana in objects and people. And from down the road, beyond the marketplace, something stirred. A flicker of spiritual mana danced at the edge of his awareness, subtle yet unnatural.

  His instincts sharpened. Something was wrong.

  Setting down his tea, Kael silently reached for his pole, his fingers tightening around the familiar weight. Without a word, he stood and made his way to the exit.

  Wallz, still engaged in conversation, didn’t notice at first. But one of his friends nudged him, motioning towards the door. “Hey… wasn’t your friend sitting there just now?”

  Wallz turned his head, only to find the seat empty. A sinking feeling settled in his gut.

  Kael had left alone.

  Outside, Kael moved through the crowd with purpose. He had no sight, but his senses led him. The flicker of spiritual mana down the road remained, pulsing like a beacon. He had to know what it was.

  Even if it meant walking straight into danger.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Inside the bustling inn, Wallz’s loud, panicked voice echoed across the room. "Sir Kael! Sir Kael!" He called again and again, his golden eyes darting frantically around the room. The once lively conversations among his friends had fallen into murmurs of confusion, and the tension grew thick. His heart pounded as he searched, sweat forming on his brow.

  Just then, Quin stepped through the entrance, holding a small pouch of potions, but before he could take another step, he was met with Wallz’s frantic face and unsteady voice.

  "Sir Kael is missing!" Wallz blurted, hands gripping his own hair. "I—I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention! He just—"

  Quin’s expression darkened, his entire aura shifting into something sharp and dangerous. A suffocating silence filled the inn, as everyone present felt the pressure of Quin’s emotions. Even Wallz swallowed thickly, guilt and dread creeping in. Then, a sudden disturbance made everyone’s breath hitch—the sword Kael had bought for Quin, which had been placed beside the table, trembled violently. The blade emitted an eerie hum, as if resonating with something—or someone.

  Quin’s sharp eyes snapped to the direction leading to the stone road outside. Without hesitation, he grabbed the scabbard, sensing the faint yet distinct pulse of danger. His instincts screamed at him, and before anyone could stop him, he launched himself through the window, completely bypassing the door.

  Wallz’s jaw dropped. "H-Hey! What—?!" But Quin was already gone, sprinting down the road at an alarming speed. "Tsk! Damn it!" Wallz cursed before quickly chasing after him, his friends following suit.

  Meanwhile, at the far end of a dimly lit alley, Kael’s pole tapped against the cold stone road, the rhythmic sound reverberating in the silence. His senses tingled with awareness. Something—or someone—was here.

  "Hello?" Kael called out, his voice even and calm, but his grip on the pole tightened. "Is anyone here?"

  The atmosphere around him felt heavy, an unsettling presence thickening the air. Before he could move, a sharp whisper of metal slicing through the air reached his ears—a dagger.

  Kael’s body tensed. In an instant, his cloak billowed, and he twisted his body just in time to avoid the blade aimed at his back. The sharp tip of the dagger grazed his cloak, leaving a clean tear.

  "Not bad for a blind man," a mocking voice sneered.

  Kael’s breath was steady, showing no weakness, but deep inside, frustration boiled—his sealed spiritual mana made it difficult to handle situations like these. He couldn’t afford to falter.

  Then, another figure emerged from the shadows, wielding a broad scimitar that gleamed under the moonlight. But before Kael could react, a terrified cry reached his ears. A girl. She was being held hostage by a third attacker, a knife dangerously close to her throat.

  Damn it.

  Back at the inn, Wallz was still running when Quin’s instincts sharpened like a honed blade. His eyes zeroed in on the alley’s end, and without wasting a second, he propelled himself forward. His speed left the air whirling in his wake. Wallz, still behind, yelled, "Oi! Quin! Wait!" But Quin didn’t. He couldn’t.

  Kael was already engaged in battle. His body moved on instinct, utilizing the combat knowledge of the original body he now inhabited.

  The two assailants struck at the same time—one aiming from the front and the other from behind.

  Kael leaped backward, landing behind one of the attackers before raising his leg in a swift, powerful motion. His kick connected with the man’s neck, sending him flying into the stone wall with a sickening crack. The impact was enough to make the man crumble unconscious to the ground.

  The second figure lunged, swinging his blade in rapid succession. Kael deflected with his pole, his motions fluid yet firm. Then, with one decisive movement, he swung his pole downward, striking the man’s head with enough force to make him stumble.

  "Like a mother disciplining her unruly child," Kael murmured under his breath, before delivering the final blow—sending the man to the ground, unconscious.

  That left only one. The one holding the girl hostage.

  Kael readjusted his stance, gripping his pole, but before he could make his move—

  A powerful gust of wind rushed past him.

  Kael’s hood was blown back, revealing his face—the strikingly beautiful yet concealed features now exposed under the evening sun. His long black hair swayed, the delicate accessories adorning his strands catching the faint glow.

  The third attacker stiffened, eyes wide in shock. Then, just as swiftly as the wind had arrived, the figure collapsed, unconscious before he even hit the ground.

  Kael exhaled, feeling the presence behind him. "Good job, Quin. And… thank you."

  Quin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. "You’re reckless, young master." But the relief in his tone was evident.

  Kael’s covered eyes shifted toward the girl, his voice softer now. "Quin, help her."

  Quin nodded, kneeling beside the trembling child as Wallz and his friends finally arrived, breathless. Their eyes landed on Kael, his hood down, his beauty undeniable under the dim glow of lanterns. Stunned silence took over, and several pairs of eyes lingered in admiration.

  Kael, realizing this, quickly pulled his hood back up. "Took you long enough," he muttered.

  Wallz hesitated before stepping closer, worry evident on his face. "Are you alright?"

  Kael gave a small nod, then gestured toward the unconscious men. One of Wallz’s friends gasped. "I know these bastards… they’re robbers! Dangerous ones! Many have been injured crossing paths with them!"

  All eyes flickered between Kael and Quin, a newfound respect forming. Just how powerful were this people?

  Quin handed the girl over to Wallz before instructing him to report the three criminals to the soldiers.

  But just as Kael took a step forward, dizziness washed over him. His limbs trembled, and his vision swayed.

  What is this? He frowned. I barely used any spiritual mana… so why is this body so weak?

  Before he could comprehend it, his pole slipped from his grasp, clattering against the stone pavement. The sharp sound made everyone’s heads turn.

  Kael coughed, pressing a hand to his chest. A suffocating tightness spread through him, his breath coming out uneven.

  "Young Master Kael?" Quin’s sharp eyes were on him in an instant.

  Kael’s lips barely moved, his voice a whisper. "…Quin…"

  His knees gave out.

  Quin reacted faster than anyone, catching Kael just before he collapsed completely.

  "Sir Kael!" Wallz and his friends shouted in unison, panic returning to Wallz’s face.

  Quin shook his head. "He’s fall asleep," he murmured, gently adjusting Kael in his arms. His expression softened as he looked at his young master, the exhaustion on his face evident.

  Kael’s pole was retrieved by one of Wallz’s friends, while Quin carried him back toward the town, his grip secured yet gentle. The unconscious robbers were dragged along by Wallz’s strong friends, and the little girl was draped in Wallz’s cloak for comfort.

  The bustling streets fell silent as onlookers turned their heads, watching the procession.

  Under the soft glow of the evening sun, Kael slept peacefully in Quin’s arms, unaware of the ripples of curiosity and admiration his presence had caused. Kael again fell into his final breathe dreams.

  Kael drifted deeper into the abyss of his unconscious mind, and suddenly, he found himself standing amidst an ethereal dreamscape. The air around him was thick with mist, swirling in slow, ghostly tendrils that parted to reveal a scene that made his breath hitch.

  Before him knelt a figure, cradling a lifeless body—his lifeless body, Asael’s body. The stormy gray jade necklace around that person's neck gleamed under the faint, dreamlike glow, more vivid than ever before. Kael's eyes widened as he tried to focus on the figure holding him, but the vision was blurred, shrouded in a thick veil of cloudy mist. Only the person's mouth was visible—quivering, parted ever so slightly as silent tears slipped down their chin, falling onto Asael’s pale, unmoving face.

  An unexpected ache bloomed in Kael’s chest. It was deep, suffocating. Why did this hurt so much? Why did this person’s sorrow feel so unbearable? Before he realized it, tears welled in his own eyes, slipping past his lashes, staining his cheeks as he clutched at his chest, as if trying to suppress the overwhelming ache threatening to consume him.

  Meanwhile, in the waking world, Kael’s body stirred in his restless sleep. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, his expression tense. A single tear escaped from beneath the cloth that covered his eyes. Quin, Wallz, and a few of Wallz’s friends who had remained by his side noticed the strange reaction. Wallz leaned forward, brows furrowed in worry. “Sir Kael…?” he murmured, but there was no response.

  Back in the dream, Kael, still kneeling, reached out with trembling hands toward the figure mourning over his past self. He wanted to touch them, to offer some kind of comfort—but his fingers passed right through, as if he were a mere specter in his own dream. Helpless, he watched as the person lowered their head, their lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Asael’s cold forehead.

  Kael’s breath caught. The tenderness in that action left him stunned. This person… truly cared for him.

  With the utmost care, the mysterious figure laid Asael’s body onto the ground, brushing away strands of silver-white hair before placing a long, crystalline sword beside the corpse. Then, as if responding to some silent call, Asael’s lifeless body shed a single tear. The moment the droplet touched the earth, the ruins around them came alive—red roses, their edges kissed with white, bloomed in abundance, their delicate petals swaying as though mourning the fallen.

  Kael’s chest tightened as he watched the figure rise, turning away, stepping toward the mist, preparing to leave. Panic surged through him. No. No, don’t go! The words tore from his throat, but no sound came. He struggled, trying to move forward, but his body felt bound by an unseen force.

  “No,” he finally gasped. “No, no, don’t go—”

  His body jerked awake.

  A sharp inhale filled Kael’s lungs as his consciousness was violently pulled back to reality. His entire body was trembling, drenched in cold sweat. His breathing was uneven, his lips slightly parted as if he had been calling out.

  “Master Kael!” Quin’s voice cut through the haze. “Young master, what’s wrong?”

  Kael blinked, his surroundings slowly coming into focus. He was lying on a small, narrow lounge chair, his head slightly propped up. The concerned faces of Wallz and his friends hovered above him. The warm, flickering glow of lanterns filled the room, casting long shadows against the wooden walls. The remnants of his dream still clung to him, making it hard to breathe.

  He swallowed, trying to steady himself, but a sharp wave of dizziness made him hiss softly. Wallz, noticing the discomfort, quickly handed him a cup of warm water. “Here, sir Kael. Drink this.”

  Kael accepted it with slightly shaking hands, taking slow sips. The warmth grounded him, though the dull ache in his chest refused to fade.

  Quin, kneeling beside him, studied Kael with narrowed eyes. “Young master, you were sweating and mumbling ‘no’ over and over again,” he said in a low voice. “What happened?”

  Kael exhaled, placing the empty cup down. His fingers hovered over his forehead as he tried to sort through his thoughts. “...It was just a dream,” he finally muttered.

  But it had felt too real.

  Quin wasn’t convinced but didn’t press the matter. Instead, he shifted to a more pressing concern. “What happened earlier? Why did you collapse?”

  Kael sighed, resting his head back against the wooden wall. “I forced myself to fight… used a little bit of my spiritual mana.” He scoffed bitterly. “I didn’t expect the side effects to be this severe.”

  A heavy silence settled over the group. Wallz and his friends exchanged worried glances.

  Quin’s expression darkened. “Young master must avoid combat in the future,” he stated firmly.

  Kael closed his eyes for a brief moment, exhaling. He didn’t have the energy to argue. Not right now.

  Instead, he let his gaze drift toward the slightly open door. Through it, he caught sight of the sky beyond. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, painting the heavens in a breathtaking blend of gold, crimson, and violet. The light streamed through the window, casting a soft glow across the room, brushing against Kael’s pale skin.

  The beauty of it did little to ease the unease lingering in his chest.

  For a long time, Kael simply stared, lost in thought. The warmth of the sunset reminded him of something—someone.

  But he couldn’t remember who.

  To be continued.