Weeks passed.Rain came and went, but the village of Ezzera still stood.There was no celebration. No official inauguration. But slowly, the system began to change.The granary was opened to the public, and distribution records were rewritten by Yarra's hand.Tomas led morning drills for the youth—not for combat, but to keep order and protect one another.Mira—though her voice still trembled when speaking in front of others—began answering questions from central couriers.They called her "The Girl of the Lower Voice."A strange title, but spoken with respect.
Yet one thing remained unspoken.Unsearched for.But also… never forgotten.
Reno.He hadn't been seen since the night of that announcement.Not in the kitchen. Not in the fields. Not at Tomas's house.The children asked. The mothers asked.But they all received the same answer:"Maybe he's done with this place."
One morning, Mira found a piece of paper beneath the kitchen floor, hidden between the wooden boards.Not a letter. Not a confession.Just a list of names.Names of villagers who had been hurt.Names of children who lost parents because of the severed distributions.Small names he had heard, one by one, in silence.
And at the bottom, it read:
"If you can stand without me, then my task is done.But if you falter, don't look for me.Look for each other."
That paper is now kept in a small wooden box in the kitchen.Not to be reread.But to be remembered—silently.
Meanwhile, in the distant central cities, reports began to shift direction:Distribution via the Noctera route was reopened.Investigations into western trading networks began.And the name Aurelien was mentioned more and more as the "initiator of local reform."
No one mentioned the name Reno.And that was exactly how it should be.
He was not a hero.He was not a protagonist.He was merely…A hand that pushed the wheel, then let go once it started to turn on its own.
"Shadows need no stage. But a stage will never stand without shadows holding it from behind the light."
Old newspapers from the capital always arrived a week late to Ezzera.Printed in poor quality, the ink smudged by rain, and often torn at the edges before reaching any hands.But Reno always read them.Line by line.Sometimes not for what was written——but for what wasn't.
"Aurelien's markets now open only three days a week.""Wheat distribution from the northern sector delayed due to documentation issues.""Lord Aurelien issues apology for delays in education funding transfers."
Nothing seemed off, read individually.But Reno never read things one by one.He read patterns.
From afar, it appeared that Ezzera had escaped its old chains.But new shadows had begun to spread from the east.
The Aurelien territory—once a pillar of power and administrative discipline—was now steadily, quietly declining.And Reno knew: "Slow" is the best way to hide collapse.
Three weeks after his "disappearance" from Ezzera, Reno sat on the roof of an old house near the empty fields.In his hand, a central newspaper—blatant propaganda.But on the back, a short opinion column, barely noticeable:
"It is curious that after the Aurelien leadership change, many small villages like Ezzera have seen a surge in stability.What was once called the fringe... now holds something too neat."— Anonymous Writer
Reno folded the page.Smiled faintly.Someone was paying attention.
That night, without a word of goodbye,without leaving another message,Reno walked northward.Not to return——but to sink deeper into the heart of power.
His steps were light, nearly silent.But in that silence, he spoke to himself—a low voice only the wind could hear:
"From a small village to the palace of shadows...Isn't it time I moved to a bigger stage?"
He chuckled softly.Not from joy.But because at last... the real game had begun.
But then—his steps halted.Just for a moment.Half a breath.
The air shifted—too cold for a rainy season night, too still for the mountains.In the distance, far beyond the sleeping fields and forests,a deep red light slowly erupted in the sky, forming a circular shape no lightning could make.The shape did not expand—it hardened.Like a symbol carving itself into the horizon.
Reno squinted.
Something about it... made no sense.Not an explosion. Not a torch.Not anything explainable by science or strategy.
But it wasn't fear he felt.It was hunger.
Because to someone like Reno,a world with secrets…is a world that can be conquered.
He resumed walking, and the night fell silent once more.But above, the red symbol slowly dissolved like ink in water—leaving a faint trace inside his mind.