"But he never returned."
He said this, then turned and continued walking. It was clear he didn't want to talk about it any further, but Nevalis couldn't suppress his curiosity.
"Did he die on a mission?" he asked with a hint of skepticism in his voice.
It didn't make sense for someone as strong as the captain's husband to die on a mere scouting mission. Sure, Nevalis didn't know the full extent of his strength, but if the captain was that powerful, it was only natural that her husband would be at least at a similar level—especially after what Felix had said about him.
Who was their captain anyway?
She was the second strongest person in the entire mercenary society, and her power was no joke. In the kingdom, only a few could match her, and even fewer could defeat her. Even on a continental level, she stood among the elite.
So how could her husband die on a simple scouting mission?
Felix's response only deepened Nevalis's confusion and questions.
"I know what you're thinking, Nevalis. How could a scouting mission be dangerous for two people as strong as the captain and Lord Noah?"
Noah? So that was the name of the captain's husband.
Felix turned to look directly into Nevalis's eyes and said,
"Do you think the captain was a warrior back then? No. She was just an ordinary girl. A girl that, had you seen her at the time, you'd never imagine would become what she is today."
Shock was clear on Nevalis's face.
"Just an ordinary girl? From a merchant family?"
"Yes," Felix continued. "Lord Noah, because of his status, often traveled to noble cities. In one of those cities, he met the captain during a trade trip with her father. He liked her and married her. He didn't care about social status, and her father didn't object—he wasn't someone who cared for such things."
Things started to get even stranger in Nevalis's mind.
"Wait, wait… the captain's husband was the son of the Mercenary King, Adam?"
"Exactly. Noah Reinhardt."
Nevalis rubbed his eyes, trying to process all the new information. The story was getting more and more complicated.
"There are things here that don't make sense. First: how did the captain become that powerful? She couldn't have gained such strength just from training after marriage. It's not plausible. Second: how the hell did he die on a scouting mission? Someone from the Reinhardt family, son of the Mercenary King, couldn't have been weak."
Felix replied with a calm voice, but one that carried the weight of truth:
"No one knows."
Lord Adam launched several expeditions to sweep through the ruin site, hiring the best warriors and most skilled trackers—but to no avail. They found no trace, not of the ruins, nor of Lord Noah. Even when Adam went himself, he returned empty-handed. It wasn't just a regular disappearance—it was as if something had swallowed the entire place, leaving nothing behind.
When the news reached the captain, it hit her like a thunderbolt. For a moment, it seemed like she couldn't process what was being said to her, like her mind refused to accept it. Then slowly, the weight of the words seeped into her, and a heavy silence fell over everyone present. She didn't scream, she didn't break down in tears, but she became a different person.
At first, people thought she had lost her mind from the grief. Despite everyone's objections, she went to the ruins alone, determined to search for herself. She stayed there for days, inspecting every corner, every stone, as if hoping to find even the slightest sign that he had been there.
But in the end, she found nothing.
Their search continued for months, but eventually, everyone had to accept reality.
But the captain? She never accepted it. She rejected it with every ounce of strength she had. It wasn't just a loss for her—it was a fracture deep within, something she couldn't allow to vanish like that.
To others, it seemed like she was running from the truth, refusing to accept the reality of her husband's death. But to her, it wasn't like that.
There was no body. No conclusive evidence of his death. Just disappearance.
Emptiness. Questions with no answers. And that's what made her cling to hope, even if it was a fragile hope that faded more with each passing day.
From that moment, everything changed. She was no longer the ordinary girl everyone once knew.
She realized she needed strength. She threw herself into the warrior's path—a path many thought was no longer available to her. In her late twenties, it was nearly impossible to reach such a high level of power, but she didn't care.
Many called her crazy. Many said she would fail. The path wasn't easy—she was just an ordinary girl in her mid-twenties, and the road ahead was long and grueling.
But she didn't care.
She trained relentlessly. She fought. She learned. She rose through the mercenary ranks with astonishing speed, as if something inside her was burning and pushing her forward without pause. It wasn't just a pursuit of power—it was a constant search. A never-ending struggle. A journey that never stopped in the hope of finding an answer… or someone.
She trained. She fought. She advanced. She searched. And she never stopped. In the end, she became the second strongest person in the mercenary society.
"She trained without rest. Fought without mercy. Searched without weariness. And even then, she found no trace of him."
And so, ten years passed.
A full decade of relentless searching.
A decade of hope suspended by the fragile thread of denial.
Felix looked at Nevalis, a smile on his face that held both admiration and sorrow.
"And here we are now. The ruins never reappeared. And Lord Noah never returned… but the captain is still searching."
He said that, then turned and continued walking—as if he had finished the story.
Nevalis followed him in silence, unable to find the right words.
After a short stroll through the market and buying some sweets, they headed toward the central square where the houses near the mercenary base were located.
Eventually, they reached the central square, where people had gathered around street vendors, artisans, and musicians who filled the place with life. But to Nevalis, everything felt dull—as if the world had lost its colors for a brief moment.