“Are you saying there’s no problem at all?” “Yes! From what we’ve observed so far, that’s correct.” At his subordinate’s answer, Tagol scowled. There was a reason he made outsiders returning from El Harun stay here for a day. The Pankrena Rangers under his command were to watch them, checking for anything suspicious. If even the slightest anomaly was found, it was to be reported immediately to El Harun for action. Tagol had ordered his men to keep both groups under discreet surveillance. And among them, two individuals received special attention. The Rangers watched them from afar, but no particular abnormalities were discovered. “That woman, Neria—she’s a dark elf, so I suppose it makes sense. But that human, Zeon—you’re saying nothing suspicious about him either?” “Yes! From his circumstances of joining Uslann’s party, to his travels—we verified everything. Nothing unusual. Their meeting seemed natural, and since then, there’s been no suspicious behavior at all.” “However, we did confirm his relationship with Corin and the others is poor. There was a quarrel during a meal.” “That figures. No sane elf would welcome a human from outside.” Tagol wrinkled his nose. Just saying the word “human” made his nose itch. It was like an allergic reaction. That was how much he despised humans. He already disliked the ones who crossed over from Kurayan—humans from outside were beyond contempt. His subordinate cautiously added: “But the result was… unexpected.” “That man Zeon—he overwhelmed Corin and Shaping.” “No. Neither side used them. It was purely physical ability.” “And even then, Zeon overwhelmed them?” Tagol’s face twisted in disbelief. When it came to raw physical ability, humans could not compare to elves. True, humans were stronger in sheer strength. But in reflexes, speed, vision, mana perception—in almost every area, elves far surpassed them. That was why elves held dominance in El Harun. “I didn’t believe it at first either, but it’s confirmed fact.” “I hear he’s proficient in fire magic.” “So—an awakened fire mage with exceptional physical ability as well.” “…I see. Send everything we’ve gathered so far to El Harun. Make sure they know to keep a close watch.” The subordinate saluted and left. Tagol, left alone, was about to settle down to sleep— A strong tremor rolled beneath his feet. “The intervals are getting shorter…” The first time he’d felt such a quake, he’d nearly panicked. It felt like the volcano was about to erupt. But there had only been tremors—no signs of an actual explosion. Even inspectors from El Harun had come, thoroughly investigated, and reported no signs of imminent eruption. A long time had passed since then. Each time the tremors grew stronger, Tagol filed reports. Each time, investigators came. But no further signs were found, and eventually even El Harun stopped paying attention. Now, even when he reported stronger tremors, no investigators came at all. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novel✶fire.net So Tagol had given up reporting entirely. “As if the volcano would really erupt. Just another fit, it’ll pass.” The caravan and Uslann’s party were busy from dawn, preparing to depart for El Harun. Since they shared the same destination, Uslann’s group chose to travel with the caravan. From Pankrena Volcano to El Harun—it was a two-day journey. Since it was within El Harun’s territory, there shouldn’t be much danger. Still—nothing in the world was guaranteed. No matter how often beasts were culled, they always appeared again. If one encountered them at the wrong time, not even bones would remain. So even near El Harun’s borders, letting down your guard meant death. Neo Seoul, by contrast, was shielded by a powerful anti-magic field. Beasts couldn’t even approach. That was the greatest difference between Neo Seoul and El Harun. Which was exactly why Uslann chose to travel with the caravan. The caravan master, Hodran, spoke to him: “All preparations are complete.” “Then let’s move out. We’ll take the lead, follow behind.” Uslann’s group went ahead, the caravan following. El Harun wasn’t far, and no beasts were in sight, so the atmosphere was relaxed. At the rear of Uslann’s party, Zeon looked around. Perhaps because of the nearby volcano, the air felt unusually hot. Even the sand was still black. Not the orange desert he knew—here stretched an endless black desert. Yet Zeon found the scenery not unpleasant. Whatever its color, the vast expanse of sand gave him a sense of calm. Suddenly, a strong vibration pulsed from his chest. ‘What’s this? That hand mirror?’ Inside his coat rested a small bronze mirror. The one that had belonged to Derod. Zeon thought to take it out, but stopped. Too many eyes were watching. A voice came from behind. He turned—Neria had approached without him noticing. Feigning calm, Zeon replied: “Why aren’t you riding a camel?” “I just felt like walking… mind if I walk with you?” When Zeon nodded, Neria smiled. And at that smile, Zeon felt his mind sway—like his soul was being pulled away. Again, the mirror in his coat vibrated fiercely. The tremor snapped his mind back into focus. Zeon’s mental defenses were stronger than anyone’s. He was not weak enough to be shaken by a woman’s looks. Yet Neria’s smile—powerful enough to rattle him instantly. This was no natural charm. Some power within her was invading his mind. And yet, Neria blinked innocently, as if unaware of what she was doing. That made her seem even more alluring. The mirror quivered again, like a warning. ‘So this item… it’s connected to Neria?’ It was what Derod had clung to until death in that dungeon. That meant Neria too must be tied to the dungeon. A possibility flickered in his mind. But Zeon was not fool enough to show it on his face. Then—he noticed her feet. Neria was walking barefoot across the burning hot sand. “You’re not wearing shoes.” “They felt stuffy. It’s easier this way.” “Mm! Is there a problem?” “I like walking barefoot. I can feel nature’s energy directly. You should try it too, Zeon. You might feel something new.” “I’ll pass. I can’t stand the heat.” “Really? Then do as you like.” She didn’t press him further. Spreading her arms wide, she let the wind wash over her as she walked. Her movements swayed like a dance, and the caravan folk watching behind grew dazed. They didn’t even realize it. “For refusing your request to turn back.” “Oh, that? It’s fine!” “Of course. I can suggest—but choice belongs to each person. And each bears their own consequences. I respect your choice, Zeon.” “That’s how you see it.” “Yes! Is that wrong?” “As long as you can bear the outcome of your choice, that’s enough.” “That’s exactly how I think.” “My thoughts are the same.” From the moment a human takes their first steps, they begin making choices. Whether they want to or not. At every fork, it’s up to them which path to take. If you can choose for yourself, you’re fortunate. Often, you’re forced to live by choices others make for you. But life comes only once. Better to choose for yourself, and face the results, than leave your fate in another’s hands. That was Zeon’s resolve. He looked straight at Neria. And he sensed it from her— Even so, traveling alongside her—that too was his choice. Whatever the outcome, he would bear it. “So barren. You really live in such a desolate place.” “Anything. Everything.” She cut him off sharply. Her gray eyes, gazing over the landscape, carried no trace of emotion. Zeon studied her expression for a moment, then moved on. Neria gave a small shake of her head, and followed. And suddenly, Neria began to sing. The girl once dreamed. She wished to live a simple life. To love, and bear the child of her beloved. For the wind to bless her. For the grace of the gods to descend. She wished to grow old in peace. To age together with the one she loved. For the goddess of earth to watch over her. To live by the teachings of the gods. But the gods turned away. They laughed at her misfortune. The mockery of the divine. A toy of the gods, dangling on the strings of fate. But I have cut the strings. In this world, where your fragrance cannot be found… Zeon shivered. Her voice was chilling. But the others reacted differently. Every member of the caravan, and Uslann’s group as well—entranced, listening, as if spellbound.