A few minutes later, the door creaked open, revealing the bright morning light. The house, from the outside, was a simple, rectangular structure built of roughly hewn logs and daub. The roof was thatched with straw, slightly uneven and patched in several places. A small, roughly constructed chimney poked out from one side, a wisp of smoke still curling from it. A single, small window, similar to the one in their room, was visible on the front wall.
Landre stepped out first, followed by Vel. She immediately took his hand, her small fingers wrapping around his. Vel felt a strange sensation, a mix of awkwardness and… something else. He rarely held hands with girls. The last time… it must have been years ago. But then he remembered. This was Landre. His sister. Just like Hanna. The thought brought a small, almost imperceptible softening to his expression.
They started walking, following a well-worn path that led out of the small alley where their house was situated and towards what seemed to be the main hub of the village.
"Where did you want to go?" Landre asked, her voice light.
Vel suddenly felt a pang of… restriction. A loss of the freedom he was used to. But then he reminded himself: he was in a child's body now. He had to adapt. And this was also an opportunity. Landre, as his sister, would likely know more about this world than anyone else.
"Landre," Vel began, then paused, trying to sound casual, "what's the history of our village?"
Landre stopped walking, her hand tightening around his. She turned to face him, her blue eyes wide with surprise
"What's gotten into you, Vel?" she asked, her voice soft and hesitant. "Why… why aren't you calling me 'Lan-neechan' anymore? Are you… still upset?"
The early rays illuminated his sister's features, and Vel found himself stunned by her loveliness. Her blonde hair, neatly styled, shimmered in the light. She wore a similar outfit to their mother—a long-sleeved white undershirt beneath a blue and leather dress, though Landre's had more intricate stitching and details, cinched at the waist by a simple leather belt. The sight almost made Vel's heart skip a beat. It was a strange sensation, a mix of appreciation and… something else.
"Sorry," Vel mumbled, forcing a sheepish grin. "I guess I haven't fully recovered from… what happened. It seems some memories are still finding their way back."
A frown creased Landre's brow, a look of guilt shadowing her features. "You really don't remember it?" she asked, her voice soft and laced with worry.
Vel shook his head slowly, trying to appear genuinely confused.
Landre sighed, her gaze shifting to the ground. "We… we had a fight," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. "Right before the bells rang." She looked back up at him, her blue eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and regret.
"And then… you ran away."
Vel looked at Landre, seeing the weight of guilt in her eyes. "A fight?" he asked softly, trying to sound genuinely curious. "What… what was it about?"
Landre hesitated, her gaze shifting to the dirt path beneath their feet. "It was… about this," she mumbled, reaching into the neckline of her dress and pulling out a small, roughly carved piece of wood. It was a complex design: a large triangle framing a smaller, inverted triangle, all enclosed within a rough circle divided into seven segments. One of the lines dividing the segments was jagged and uneven. "I… I was trying to make an amulet," she continued.
Vel's brow furrowed. He recognized the symbol, though he couldn't place it. It was… vaguely familiar, like something he'd seen in a history book or perhaps in Aeonalus lore.
"I was using your knife," Landre continued, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers tracing the jagged line on the wooden carving. "The one Dad gave you. The one with the wolf's head. And… I messed it up." She looked up at him, her eyes pleading for understanding. "I chipped the blade. Trying to get this part just right."
"You know what my dream is, Vel," she said, her voice filled with a quiet intensity. "I want to become a Saint. To serve the… to serve and help people in our village." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "So I need to start working for the church. This… this amulet was supposed to be a symbol of my commitment. A way to show them I'm serious."
She looked down at the damaged carving again, her expression filled with disappointment. "And then… you got so angry. You said… I was always messing with your things, that I didn't respect them. And then you just… left." She looked back at him, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I tried to call you back, but you wouldn't listen. And then… the bells started ringing."
"Where…where's the knife?" Vel asked, his voice soft.
Landre's expression turned even more apologetic.
"You… you were so angry," she mumbled, her gaze dropping to the dirt path beneath their feet. "You threw it. At me."
She reached into a small pocket in her dress and pulled out the sheathed knife, offering it to him.
"Here."
Vel took the knife. The smooth leather of the sheath felt familiar in his hand. This Vel is one freaking dumb kid, he thought, shaking his head slightly. He examined the sheath, noting the worn edges and the faint scratches on the leather. Then, he carefully drew the knife. The blade was indeed chipped near the tip, a small but noticeable imperfection that marred the otherwise well-maintained edge. He looked back at Landre, his expression softening.
"You know, Lan-neechan," he said gently, using the familiar term she'd mentioned earlier, "from now on, if you want anything, simply tell me. Don't hold back. I promise I'll never lose my temper over things like this again. Not once."
He paused, then added,
"In fact… you can keep the knife."
Landre's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise and then a hesitant joy in them.
"No," she said quickly, shaking her head, her blonde braids swaying slightly. "It's yours. It was Dad's gift to you. I can't take it."
Despite her words, a small smile played on her lips, and Vel could see she was clearly pleased by the offer.
"So," Vel began, shifting the knife in his hand. "After I… ran off… what happened then? With the bells and everything?"
Landre waved a hand dismissively, her good mood seemingly restored.
"Oh, that," she said, her voice lighter. "It's all right now. What were you asking me again, Vel?"
"It's…the history of our village," Vel replied.
"Right," Landre said, nodding. They started walking again, the dirt path winding between the simple houses. Landre began to explain.
"This village, Oakhaven, belongs to the Iz'mir Kingdom. It's one of the five major kingdoms. The capital city, Lona, is right in the center of the kingdom. It's a huge, well-protected city, with impenetrable walls wrapped all the way around it. That's where the… well, the special people live. Mostly nobles and those close to the royal family."
She paused, kicking at a small stone in the path.
"As Lona grew, the population increased so much that there wasn't enough room for everyone inside the walls. So, the King started what he calls the 'Expansion Campaign.' He ordered many settlements built far away from the city, trying to expand the size of the kingdom itself. Places like Oakhaven."
She gestured around at the simple houses.
"But these lands…" she continued, her voice becoming slightly more somber, "…they're mostly unexplored. And sometimes… dangerous. While we're technically under the King's rule, we're mostly independent. It's almost like we're exiles, forced to live outside the safety of the walls."
She looked at Vel, her expression serious.
"If a settlement does well, if it grows and prospers, then the kingdom will eventually send support – supplies, soldiers, maybe even some officials. They'll officially incorporate the area into the kingdom's territory."
Her voice dropped to a near whisper.
"But some settlements… they aren't so lucky. They get destroyed. Raided by bandits, sometimes even wiped out by monsters."
Inside Vel's head, Giri's memories stirred. Lona… He knew that name. In Aeonalus, it was a major hub, a central gathering point for players. A sprawling metropolis that boasted everything a player could need: guild headquarters, bustling marketplaces, grand cathedrals, even a massive military training center. It was a place of opportunity, a symbol of the kingdom's strength.
But something didn't add up. In the game, Lona was designed to be self-sustaining. Its strategic location and abundant resources meant it shouldn't have had any issues with overpopulation. The idea of people being forced to live outside the walls due to lack of space… it was completely foreign to Giri's memories of the game.
That doesn't make sense, he thought, a frown creasing his brow. Lona was designed to be self-sufficient. It shouldn't be overcrowded.
He looked at Landre, trying to reconcile her description with his memories.
"So… we're not… noble?" Vel asked, carefully choosing his words. "Despite being… from Lona?"
Landre shook her head, a hint of weariness in her eyes.
"No, Vel," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "We're generations after the Expansion Campaign started. The nobles and the royal family, they live in the inner layer of the capital. Inside the main walls. The outer layers… those are for the rich merchants, the wealthy landowners, people like that."
She paused, gesturing vaguely towards the horizon.
"And then… even further out, there are more layers, for regular residents. And then… well, after that… anyone who can't find a place to live in the capital, they're… encouraged to leave. To join settlements like Oakhaven."
Giri considered this. It actually made a strange sort of sense. He'd meticulously designed the city of Lona, crafted its history and background, ensured the lore was consistent and engaging. But he'd overlooked one crucial aspect: the passage of time.
It was understandable, really. In a game, time was often compressed, events happening much faster than they would in reality. Simulating the slow, gradual changes that occur over generations—the growth of cities, the shifts in social structures, the evolution of cultures—was incredibly complex, bordering on impossible. It was like trying to predict the future. How each kingdom would grow, how its population would shift, how its policies would change… it was beyond his ability to foresee.
Of course, he thought, a sense of dawning realization washing over him. I created the initial conditions, but I didn't account for how those conditions would evolve over time.
As he thought, something struck him. Wait… Time. He looked up at Landre, a sudden urgency in his expression.
"Do you know the King's name?" Vel asked quickly.
"Of course," Landre replied, looking at him strangely. "Everyone knows the King's name. King Korivan Garnos the Seventh."
"The Seventh?" Vel repeated, his mind racing. The Awakened update had mentioned a General Garnos, a key figure who provided assistance to players and offered multiple questlines. Don't tell me…
"How long has it been since the first Garnos King?" Vel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"About five hundred years, I think," Landre replied, shrugging slightly.
A strange feeling washed over Giri. Five hundred years. Five centuries had passed since the events of the Awakened update. No wonder the world was so different. No wonder Lona was overcrowded. Five hundred years was an eternity in game terms. Entire empires could rise and fall in that time.
No wonder, he thought, a sense of dawning realization settling in. Five hundred years have passed since the events in the Awakened update. Which means everything I know about this world would have changed drastically. This is going to complicate things.
"Why are you suddenly so interested in all this, Vel?" Landre asked, tilting her head slightly. "It's not like you can understand all of it."
Vel scrambled for an excuse. He couldn't tell her the truth—that he was from another world and knew the history of this place from a game. He needed something believable, something a child might say.
"I… I just want to know more about where we live," he stammered, trying to sound innocent. "Mom always tells stories about the kingdom, about Lona and the King. I just… wanted to know more about how it all connects to us." He added quickly, "Especially after… you know… what happened. It made me think."
"Maybe… maybe I want to visit Lona," Vel said, the idea suddenly solidifying in his mind. A city as vast and important as Lona… it had to hold answers. Perhaps even a way back to his own world.
Landre stopped walking abruptly, turning back to face Vel, her expression a mix of surprise and gentle mockery.
"What?" she asked, a slight incredulity in her voice.
"There's no chance for us there, Vel," she continued, shaking her head slightly. "How are you even going to make a living in Lona? It's… it's a completely different world."
She paused, her expression softening slightly.
"For me," she said, looking off into the distance, "unless I get accepted by the church and climb the ranks… maybe, one day, I could provide a place for our family there. But as for us… right now…" She trailed off, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand.
The thought of her own ambitions seemed to take hold of Landre's mind, her gaze becoming distant as she drifted into her own thoughts.
As they both stood there, lost in their own contemplations, a firm shout echoed through the village. It came from a group of guards, gathered in neat lines near the center of the settlement.
"Look, it's Father," Landre said, her attention snapping back to the present.
Vel looked over. A group of guards stood at attention, saluting a man standing on a raised wooden platform. He was likely the Chief of the village, judging by the way he commanded the guards' attention, meticulously ensuring their lines were straight and their posture perfect.
The announcement, Vel thought, remembering the guard's words to Von.
He gestured to Landre to walk closer to the gathering. Landre seemed equally curious about the announcement. They both started walking towards the gathering, joining the other villagers who were also converging on the central area.
Vel did a quick headcount. There were roughly thirty guards in total, all wearing similar, functional-looking armor – perhaps boiled leather reinforced with metal plates at the shoulders and knees. He scanned the lines, trying to spot Von, but couldn't pick him out. He'd only seen the man once this morning, after all, and that was through Vel's eyes, not his own.
"There," Landre whispered, pointing discreetly. "Fifth from the right, second row."
The crowd hushed as the Chief raised his hand, signaling for silence. He stood tall on the wooden platform, his voice clear and authoritative as it carried across the village square.
"Residents of Oakhaven," he began, his gaze sweeping across the assembled villagers, "I have called you here today to address a matter of grave importance."
He paused, his expression becoming more serious.
"As you all know, a portal has manifested nearby. This is not a trivial matter. It's a significant threat to the very existence of our village. A threat of… life and death. Many settlements have perished due to similar occurrences."
A wave of worried whispers rippled through the crowd.
"I have consulted with our Seers," the Chief continued, his voice regaining its firmness, "and we have devised a plan. We will attempt to make contact with the Adventurers' Guild in Elnor, the nearest town. Hopefully," he added, a hint of hope in his voice, "we can persuade some skilled adventurers to come and close the portal."
He paused again, his gaze briefly shifting towards the lines of guards.
"In the meantime," he said, his voice becoming more stern, "I urge everyone to remain vigilant. All children will be monitored strictly." He paused, his gaze lingering on Von for a moment, but the guard remained impassive, his posture ramrod straight. "Any activity outside the village walls will require an escort of at least two guards. In the worst-case scenario, we will be forced to perform another ritual."
He addressed the guards directly.
"The rest of you, please spread this news to anyone who is not yet aware. You are dismissed. Return to your duties."
The guards saluted in unison before dispersing, some moving to spread the word throughout the village, others resuming their patrols. The crowd of villagers began to disperse as well, murmuring amongst themselves.
As they approached, they could see him more clearly. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with weathered features and a stern but kind expression. He wore the same type of armor as the other guards, but his was slightly more ornate, with additional metal plating and a small emblem on his shoulder.
He noticed them approaching and a warm smile spread across his face.
"Vel! Landre!" he called out, his voice booming slightly. He opened his arms and both children ran to him, embracing him tightly.
"Did you hear the Chief's announcement?" he asked, his voice now softer as he held them close.
Yes, Father," Landre replied, nodding solemnly.
"We did," Vel added, his mind still reeling from the implications of the portal.
Their father sighed, his expression turning grave. He knelt down, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.
"Things are going to be different for a while," he said, his voice low and serious. "Because of this… portal… things are more dangerous now. You both need to be extra careful."
He looked at them, his eyes filled with concern.
"No going outside the walls without a guard, understand? Not even to the edge of the forest. And stay close to home. I don't want either of you wandering off."
He paused, then added,
"This… this isn't like the usual monster sightings. This is… different. This could be very serious."
"Yes, Father," Landre replied, nodding solemnly.
Vel nodded as well, but his mind was racing. Portals… creatures… He knew exactly what that meant. This was his creation, after all. He'd designed the lore, the monsters, the very fabric of this world. He knew what kinds of horrors could crawl through those rifts between dimensions.
He remembered the mechanics he'd implemented in Aeonalus. Some Portals were unstable conduits, spewing forth increasingly powerful creatures based on how long they remained open. The longer a portal remained active, the greater the risk. And if it was left unchecked for too long… well, that's how entire zones in the game became corrupted, overrun by monstrous hordes.
He looked back at his father, his brow furrowed slightly.
"What makes this different, Father?" Vel asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "You said it's not like the usual monster sightings."
Their father sighed, his gaze drifting towards the distant hills.
"The usual monster sightings," he explained, his voice low, "are… well, they're usually just beasts. Animals driven out of the forest, or perhaps some stray creature that's wandered too far from its territory. We can usually handle them with a few guards."
He looked back at them, his expression grave.
"But this… this is a portal. Not just some magical occurrence or a stray beast. It's a tear in the fabric of reality. It connects… other places. Other realities."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"Things that come through portals… they aren't bound by the natural laws of this world. They can be… anything. Beasts, yes, but also… other things. Things we don't understand. Things that are… unnatural."
He lowered his voice even further, almost to a whisper.
"Some say that portals can even bring forth creatures from the Outer Void. Things that drive men mad just by looking at them.
Inside Vel's head, Giri's thoughts raced. So, at least this hasn't changed much from the game, he thought. Everything their father had mentioned—the distinction between normal monsters and portal creatures, the whispers of the Outer Void—it was all consistent with the lore he'd created for Aeonalus. He knew what to expect.
Normal monsters that naturally inhabited this realm were generally weak, easily dispatched by even low-level adventurers. There were a few exceptions, of course, powerful beasts that could pose a threat, but they were rare. Think of them as early-game enemies, designed to challenge new players.
The portals, however… those were a different story entirely. In Aeonalus, portals were designed as party-based content, requiring coordinated teamwork and strategic planning. The difficulty was significantly higher. Even experienced players, playing as powerful adventurers, could still fail to close a portal if they weren't careful.
And if the guards here were equivalent to in-game NPCs… Giri's stomach churned. The chances of them successfully defending the village against a portal-spawned incursion were abysmal. NPCs were simply not designed to handle that level of threat.
Giri felt a surge of worry. If only there was a way for him to gauge the strength of the guards, to get a sense of their "level," as it were. That would give him a better understanding of just how dire their situation truly was.
Then an idea struck him. He looked up at his father.
"Father," Vel asked, tilting his head slightly, "do you know any… martial arts?"
His father chuckled, a warm sound that Vel hadn't heard in… well, he couldn't remember.
"Yes," his father replied. "I know a few sword art moves. Why? Are you interested in learning?"
Vel played along, a small smile forming on his face.
"Yes, Father," he said enthusiastically. "What's the strongest move you can perform?"
His father puffed out his chest slightly, a hint of pride in his voice.
"Well," he said, "I can manage a few rounds of Whirlwind Blade and a decent Air Cutter."
That was… surprising. Those were mid-tier sword arts, not the basic, low-tier moves that normal NPC guards would use. Wait, Giri thought, his mind racing. Unless… unless my father is an Elite NPC.
"Can everyone else do that too?" Vel asked, trying to sound casual.
His father laughed, shaking his head.
"Of course not," he said, a touch of playful boasting in his voice. "Your father is special. It's just me and a few others who can perform those techniques."
Based on this information, Giri made a quick calculation. Whirlwind Blade and Air Cutter… those were skills typically learned around level 20-25 in Aeonalus. If his father could perform them proficiently, that put him somewhere around level 25. And if the other guards couldn't use those skills, they were likely in the level 10-15 range, the standard level for basic guards.
The lowest level of a portal monster was 30. That was a five-level gap.
As the former game master of Aeonalus, Giri knew exactly what that meant. A five-level gap was significant, though not insurmountable. Sometimes players could manage to clear content while underleveled, but it required perfect strategy, flawless execution, and a healthy dose of luck.
But even with perfect strategy, there was still the element of trial and error. Knowing the enemies' weaknesses was crucial, and that often came from experience, from observing their attack patterns and vulnerabilities. The guards wouldn't have that luxury. They'd be facing these creatures for the first time, with no prior knowledge of their abilities.
If a confrontation broke out… how could he convey his knowledge to them? How could he tell them about the monsters' weaknesses, their attack patterns, their vulnerabilities, without revealing his true nature? He couldn't just suddenly start spouting game mechanics and monster stats. They'd think he was crazy.
Vel's mind raced, trying to find a solution.
As he was deep in thought, a firm voice boomed across the square.
"Von!"
It was the Chief.
"Didn't you hear my orders?"
Von, caught up in the conversation with his children, had almost completely forgotten his duty. He snapped to attention, quickly saluting the Chief. He cast a brief, apologetic look at Vel and Landre before hurrying back towards the other guards.
Vel watched him go, then glanced at the Chief. The Chief's gaze was fixed on him for a moment—a stern, unwavering look that sent a shiver down Vel's spine. Then, without a word, the Chief turned and slowly walked back towards his cabin, a small, sturdy building near the center of the village square.
"We should head back home," Landre said wearily, her voice soft. "Mom will know about the news soon enough."
Vel nodded absently, his mind still grappling with the problem at hand. There was no guarantee that the monsters spawning from the portal would be level 30. It could always be higher. But if they truly were in a low-level zone, then level 30 seemed like a reasonable starting point.
He just needed to know what kind of portal it was. In Aeonalus, there were different types of portals, each with its own unique characteristics and associated dangers. Some were small, unstable rifts that spawned only a few weak creatures. Others were massive, swirling vortexes that could unleash hordes of powerful monsters.
The only way to find out… was to take a look himself. Or, perhaps, ask someone who had already seen it. He pondered this as they walked back towards their house, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on his young shoulders.
The days that followed the Chief's announcement were filled with a tense undercurrent of fear and uncertainty. The village, once a place of simple routines and quiet evenings, now buzzed with anxious whispers and watchful eyes.
(Day 1)
The village square was abuzz with activity. Boys Landre's age, emboldened by the recent events and perhaps hoping to impress her, were putting on displays of their skills. One boy, Elric, showed off his archery prowess, hitting a distant target with practiced ease. Another, Finn, presented her with a small bouquet of wildflowers he'd gathered from the edge of the forest (carefully escorted by two guards, of course). Landre politely thanked them, her responses brief and polite, her mind clearly elsewhere. Elric's arrows and Finn's flowers were met with polite smiles, but her eyes held no spark of interest, leaving the boys embarrassed in front of their friends. She wasn't bothered in the slightest that she was of age and hadn't found a love interest. Her focus was singular. She spent most of her time at the small village shrine, diligently studying ancient texts and practicing her prayers.
(Day 2)
Vel, meanwhile, was struggling to adapt. His adult mind was trapped in a child's body, a constant source of frustration. Simple tasks like chopping wood or carrying water felt awkward and clumsy. He couldn't even properly hold the carving knife without feeling a phantom weight in his adult hand. He was trying to read a notice posted on the village notice board—something about new patrol schedules—but the symbols were completely foreign. He frowned, tracing one of the unfamiliar characters with his finger. It was then that the realization hit him: he couldn't read. The language of this world, while familiar in its spoken form, was completely different in its written form. Giri, the creator of Aeonalus, the architect of its lore and history, couldn't decipher the simplest written word. He had designed the concept of language for the game, but the actual written form was a detail filled in by the world itself.
"What are you doing, Vel?" Landre asked, approaching him.
"I… I can't read this," he admitted, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck.
Landre tilted her head, then pointed to a few of the symbols.
"That's 'patrol,' and that one means 'north gate,'" she explained patiently.
(Day 3)
Tension mounted in the village as guards increased their patrols, faces grim. Rumors circulated about strange lights and sounds near the portal. Though the Chief had contacted Elnor, aid remained uncertain. Landre prayed more intensely at the shrine while Vel observed, his stomach churning. He struggled to find a way to investigate the portal without drawing attention, the burden of his secret knowledge growing heavier.
The fourth day after the Chief's announcement dawned under heavy gloom. Thick, low-hanging clouds obscured the sun, casting long shadows across the village. The air was thick with moisture, promising rain.
Vel bounced up from his bed, instantly awake. Right, the Seers, he thought, the idea from the previous night returning in full force. They were the ones who had detected the portal's presence. They were the key. He needed to talk to them.
But how do I even start that conversation? he wondered. "Hey, I know you detected a reality-rending rift because I designed them in a video game"? Probably not the best opener. He briefly considered asking Landre for help. She seemed to have a good rapport with some of the village elders, perhaps she could introduce him. He looked around the small house. It was empty. Everyone had likely already gone out to their daily tasks. The gloomy morning mirrored the growing unease in his heart.
Well, no time like the present, he thought, pulling his thin tunic tighter around himself against the morning chill. He shivered slightly. Besides, if no one's home, no one can stop me. He gave a small, almost imperceptible smirk, a flicker of Giri's old confidence showing through.
The path to the Seers' dwelling wasn't difficult to find. It was a small, secluded hut on the edge of the village, nestled amongst a cluster of ancient oak trees. The trees themselves seemed older than the village, their gnarled branches reaching towards the sky like skeletal fingers. The air around them felt heavy, almost… still. As he approached, he noticed a faint wisp of smoke curling from the hut's chimney, suggesting that someone was inside. He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and walked towards the rough wooden door.
He raised his hand and knocked firmly.
No one answered. He knocked again, a little louder this time. Still nothing. Did I get the wrong house? he wondered, tilting his head to look at the surrounding trees. The gnarled branches and thick moss clinging to the bark certainly fit the description he'd heard. Or maybe no one's home after all.
Just as he was about to give up and try again later, he heard an unusual commotion coming from the direction of the village gate. It was the sound of many voices, a mix of excited chatter and confused murmurs, much louder than the usual village sounds.
Curiosity piqued, Vel turned and started walking towards the gate. As he approached, he could see a small crowd gathering near the entrance. And then he saw them. A group of people, clearly from outside the village, were entering through the gate. Their faces were unfamiliar, their features distinct, and their outfits… well, they stood out like brightly colored birds in a flock of sparrows.
Vel walked closer to the gate, drawn by the commotion. As he got a better look, Giri quickly scanned the newcomers. There were four of them.
One was a hulking figure of a man, his muscles bulging from head to toe. He was bald, with thick, corded veins visible on his head and arms, and wore nothing but animal furs wrapped around his body.
Another wore an elegant robe, white at the edges and predominantly green in the main body. A small, leather-bound book hung from a strap on his back.
A third was clad in sleek, comfortable-looking leather armor, quite different from the guards' more practical gear. A wide-brimmed hat with a single, brightly colored feather tucked into the band sat atop her head. A small hand crossbow was strapped to the back of her belt. It was a woman, with sharp features and a confident air.
The last one wore full plate armor, except for her head, which revealed a woman with short, practical brown hair and a determined look. A large, two-handed sword was strapped to her back, its hilt rising above her shoulder.
Vel looked closer and spotted something else, a detail he hadn't noticed at first glance. Each of them wore a small, square trinket. Some wore it on a chain around their neck, others had it attached to their belt or pinned to their chest.
No mistaking it, Giri thought, his heart quickening. It's an Adventurer's Card. Every registered adventurer in Aeonalus was issued one. It was used to track their progress, record their completed quests, and display their rank within the Adventurers' Guild.
The woman in full plate armor had a light blue card. The bald man carried a yellow one. Both the robed man and the woman in leather had white cards.
By their appearance and equipment, Giri quickly made some deductions based on his extensive knowledge of Aeonalus.
The woman in full plate armor, with her practical demeanor and large sword, was almost certainly a Knight-class. The light blue card… that corresponded to Platinum Rank. High ranking, definitely, but still not the highest tier.
The bald man, with his muscular physique and simple attire, fit the profile of a Monk-class. His yellow card indicated Gold Rank, a respectable position within the guild.
The woman in leather armor, with her sleek gear and hand crossbow, was undoubtedly a Hunter-class. Her white card signified Silver Rank.
The man in the green robe, with the book at his back, was most likely a Cleric-class. His white card also placed him at Silver Rank. It wouldn't make much sense if he were a Wizard or Sorcerer-class, Giri thought. A party like this would almost certainly need a dedicated healer.
The Chief, having noticed the arrival of the newcomers, quickly stepped forward to greet them. The village Seers accompanied him, their presence adding a sense of formality to the occasion. After a brief exchange of words, the Chief ascended the wooden platform once more, raising his hand to address the assembled villagers.
"People of Oakhaven," he announced, his voice booming across the square, "I present to you the adventurers who have graciously answered our call for aid."
He gestured to each of them in turn, introducing them one by one, starting with the lowest rank and working his way up.
"These two brave individuals, both of Silver Rank, are Mora the Hunter and Bestiel the Cleric."
Mora, the woman in leather armor, gave a small, confident nod, while Bestiel, the robed man, offered a polite bow.
"Next, we have Honka, a Gold Rank Monk, whose strength and skill will be invaluable in the challenges ahead."
Honka, the bald, muscular man, grinned broadly, flexing his biceps to a few cheers from the crowd.
Finally, the Chief turned to the woman in full plate armor.
"And leading this valiant group, we have Clara, a Knight of Platinum Rank."
Clara simply stood at attention, her posture unwavering, her expression composed. She offered no smile, no boastful gesture. Just a quiet, unwavering presence.
The villagers erupted in applause, grateful for the arrival of these skilled warriors. Mora, Bestiel, and Honka visibly basked in the attention, striking heroic poses and exchanging excited glances. Clara, however, remained unmoved, her composure unshaken by the crowd's enthusiasm.
Such composure, Giri thought, impressed. Fitting of a Platinum Rank.
As the applause began to die down, Giri muttered to himself, a dry remark escaping his lips.
"So," he murmured, barely audible, "this is going to be a four-man raid."
—
End of Chapter 3