One week later
Orindal – the capital of the Kingdom of Tarolinia
The city was wrapped in the chill of autumn, alive with both joy and sorrow. Here, people breathed, laughed, cried, and lived.
The streets teemed with life—soldiers kept watch, merchants drove the economy, scholars and teachers nurtured and restrained talent, and laborers, the true foundation of the city, labored often unnoticed.
Mothers carried their children with smiles full of love, wandering through markets and streets. Fathers held their children's hands, sharing lessons learned from life.
Children played together freely, unaware of the uncertainties of the future, while elderly women ran small stalls, preparing delicious food with care and love.
Every person carried their own story, unique and colorful, filled with unspoken pain and fatigue that could fill thousands of books. Each life was simultaneously the most important and the least noticed in the world.
Vantias walked through the streets of the capital. The air had grown colder. He wore a black cloak and carried a paper bag filled with chocolate pastries.
He picked one up and ate it slowly, feeling a joy he had never known—not the kind he pretended to feel, but the simple happiness that life could bring.
"These pastries are delicious," he thought. "When I first arrived in this world, I was completely poor. But now, I live like normal people and can enjoy life."
He took another bite, then thought, "After retiring from adventuring, Anna rented a bakery."
He sighed, shoulders slumping. "Of course, renting a shop in the capital wasn't easy... all three of us put everything we had into it. Fortunately, I managed to pay off my debts, and things are slowly getting better."
He smiled and looked up at the blue sky. "But I'm glad Anna is happy with her work. That alone makes me happy."
Continuing his walk through winding streets and alleys, he arrived at a small clinic. The stone building was covered in green moss, roses bloomed in the yard, and white curtains swayed in the wind.
Vantias quietly climbed the stairs to the upper floor. Several beds with white sheets were arranged there, most occupied by patients. This clinic served the Wayfarers of Light, one of many institutions established across the kingdom for their care.
He approached a bed by the window. A man in his forties with dark hair and eyes sat there, holding a small can and staring outside.
Upon seeing Vantias, the man smiled and took a sip from the can. Vantias returned the smile, speaking softly:
"Still drowning yourself in alcohol… maybe it's time to rethink your habits."
Vensing smirked. "Heh" He pointed to the paper bag.
"And I should tell you this… ever since I met you, all I've ever seen you do is eat pastries."
Vantias' smile faded as he stared at the bag, momentarily frozen. Hesitantly, he said:
"Well… you know… this is different."
He closed his eyes, nodded confidently, and crossed his arms.
"Yes… it's completely different."
Vensing chuckled softly, a small smile on his lips. He took another sip from the can, speaking in a calm but serious tone:
"So… were you able to deliver the reports to Aldrin?"
Vantias' face hardened. He nodded and pulled a letter from his pocket, handing it to Vensing.
The letter was sealed on yellowed, textured paper, with a red wax seal embossed with the symbol of a lion.
Vantias glanced at the name, then looked into Vensing's eyes and said quietly:
"Aldrin asked me to have you read this after I left. It seems to contain details of a new mission."
Vensing took a deep breath, setting the letter on the table beside his bed. He gazed out the window.
"The last mission… the outcome was far worse than I imagined. I thought it only happened in one village, but it occurred simultaneously in several villages near the capital."
He closed his eyes, pausing briefly, then continued:
"Dozens of our agents, and around 300 innocent men, women, and children… were killed."
He clenched his fists.
"And we couldn't do anything. We only stood there, like fools…"
Vantias remained silent, lowering his head.
"But we saved some. Others died. I blame myself… if only I had been stronger, smarter… I could have saved more lives."
In a quiet, sorrowful tone, he added:
"So the pain you feel… I understand it too."
Vensing said nothing, lowering his head, before smiling faintly:
"I want to try one of those pastries."
Vantias' face brightened, a warm smile spreading across his features.
"Really? I got these from my sister's bakery… she's very talented."
Vensing smiled and listened carefully to Vantias' words. They spent several minutes talking before it was time for Vantias to leave.
He waved his hand.
"Get well soon. Goodbye."