The village of Eidenweld came into view as the trio crested the forest ridge. Smoke curled from chimneys, children's laughter echoed between thatched rooftops, and the warm scent of hearthbread drifted on the breeze.
It should have felt like coming home.
But Sylvie lagged several steps behind.
She tugged at the loose sleeves of her cloak, hood drawn low. Her eyes flicked to every passing shadow, every motion in the trees. Not out of fear—but habit. The habit of someone always watched. Always hunted.
Reynar slowed his pace. "You okay?"
She nodded stiffly. "I don't… do well with villages."
"You'll be fine," Liora said gently. "They're not like… others."
That wasn't entirely true. Eidenweld was kind. But small communities feared what they didn't understand—and beastkin were rare this deep into the human continent.
Still, Sylvie walked forward.
When they reached the village gates, the watchman blinked in shock. "By the gods—Reynar! Liora! You're back! And you closed the rift?"
Reynar nodded. "No more spawn in that dungeon."
"Ha! That's a cause for drink!" The man beamed. "Come in, come in!"
But his smile faded slightly when he noticed Sylvie. His eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped. "Who's that?"
"Our companion," Liora said without hesitation. "She helped close the rift."
"…Right." He didn't argue, but his gaze lingered.
Inside the village, the reception was warmer. Word of their success had already spread, and the villagers cheered as the three arrived in the square. The blacksmith offered free touch-ups on their gear, the baker pressed warm sweetbread into Reynar's hand, and children ran up asking for stories of monsters and heroes.
Sylvie hung back, half-hidden behind Liora.
Some eyes turned her way.
One mother pulled her child closer.
Another whispered something under her breath.
Sylvie's ears lowered.
But no one said anything aloud.
Later, as the crowd dispersed, Reynar found her behind the old well.
"I told you," she murmured without looking up, "They wouldn't accept me."
He handed her a slice of sweetbread. "Then they'll have to learn."
She took it hesitantly.
From behind, Liora added, "It's not about fitting in immediately. It's about showing them who you really are."
Sylvie didn't smile, but she took a bite.
That night, the trio gathered in Liora's house. The fire crackled gently. They sat around the map table, eyes focused on the swirling symbol glowing in the parchment's center.
A new rift. Near Eidenweld. Closer than ever.
Reynar tapped the location. "According to the system, this one is stronger. Higher spawn density. Possible boss variants."
"We're not ready," Liora muttered.
Sylvie folded her arms. "Then we get ready."
Liora looked at her, surprised.
Sylvie met her gaze. "I'm not letting this village fall. Not after what we've already done."
Reynar's lips curved into a smile.
Then he glanced out the window—toward the forest, where shadows lengthened, and the air carried a strange hum of unease.
They had won a battle.
But war was coming.
[System Notification]Upcoming Rift Detected: "Fangs of the Forgotten" – Opening in 9 daysEstimated Threat Level: A+Prepare Accordingly