Chloe's question hung in the air like a cold mist that refused to drift away. The words were simple, yet for the residents of Noive Village, they were a key attempting to unlock a Pandora's box that had been sealed for three centuries. The members of the Gold Wings party immediately felt a sense of unease. The silence that followed was not merely an absence of sound, but an atmospheric pressure that made their chests feel tight.
Ronan glanced at his companions; Oliver appeared restless, Rin lowered her head, while Chloe herself grew pale—and Harold remained deathly silent—realizing she might have crossed a taboo line. Even Keywiln Almon, the village head, remained quiet for a long time, his gaze wandering far toward the mountains that bordered the horizon.
"I-I apologize for my member's question, Village Head." Ronan broke the silence, his voice trembling slightly. He bowed low as a sign of respect. "If that question offended you or the villagers, you do not need to answer it. We are merely curious wanderers."
Keywiln slowly shifted his gaze from the horizon. He looked at Ronan, then turned to Chloe, before finally, a thin smile—one that looked more like a forced, bitter grin—appeared on his wrinkled face.
"It's alright, young man." Keywiln said, his voice now heavier. "Curiosity is human nature, especially for those of you who stake your lives on the sword and magic. I will answer it for you. But prepare yourselves, for this is a story that begins about three hundred years ago... a time when blood was cheaper than water."
Keywiln invited them to sit on a long wooden bench under a giant oak tree in the center of the village. The atmosphere, which had been tense, gradually shifted into one of solemnity, as if nature itself wanted to listen to this ancient tale.
"Three centuries ago," Keywiln began, "this Altoria Kingdom was on the brink of ruin. We were engaged in a total war against the Kingdom of Fellims. It wasn't just a territorial war; it was a war of annihilation. Villages were burned, fields were poisoned, and countless soldiers and even civilians became innocent victims."
He exhaled, his rough fingers brushing the surface of the wooden table in front of him. "At that time, the Altoria forces were heavily cornered. In a desperate bid to avoid encirclement by Fellims' army, one division of the royal troops was forced to take a suicidal path: passing through the Death Forest. Many died within that forest, but those who survived managed to emerge and find a hidden village that, at the time, wasn't even on the map."
Keywiln described how the villagers were shocked to see hundreds of men in tattered armor emerge from behind the giant trees. The soldiers were in a horrific state—magic burns, festering sword gashes, and acute mental exhaustion.
"Our villagers, who have long upheld human values, could not stand idly by. Those with the gift of healing magic moved without being asked. They healed wounds that should have been fatal in mere minutes. That miracle, of course, left the soldiers and a high-ranking royal official leading them both awestruck and terrified of our skills."
"Who was that royal official, sir?" Rin interjected, her eyes sparkling. As a healer, she was deeply interested in the history of medical magic.
Keywiln looked deeply into Rin's eyes. "That official was the Crown Prince of the Altoria Kingdom at the time. A young man carrying the weight of a nation on his shoulders. His name was Javiere Eltroy Da Altoria."
Rin, Ronan, and the entire Gold Wings party recoiled. That name was not just a stranger's name; Javiere Eltroy Da Altoria was a legendary figure, the Sixth King of the Altoria Kingdom, known as the Conqueror of the Red Valley.
"According to academy history records," Chloe added in a soft voice, "Javiere was crowned king after achieving an impossible victory in the battle at Red Valley against the Kingdom of Fellims. It was the turning point of Altoria's history."
Keywiln nodded firmly. "That history is correct, yet there is a part that was never written in schoolbooks. That great victory would have been impossible without the help of our ancestors. Prince Javiere pleaded desperately for Noive Village to assist him—not as soldiers, but as a balance of power."
The ancestors of Noive finally relented. Fifty villagers set out for the battlefield. They didn't wear royal armor, but simple hunting clothes. However, on the battlefield, they were a nightmare for the Fellims' forces. With undetectable magic and combat abilities that defied logic, they turned the tide in a single night.
"Thanks to that help, Prince Javiere was able to push the Fellims' army back to the farthest borders. The war ended, and Altoria achieved absolute victory." Keywiln continued. "However, victory brought new consequences. Javiere, realizing how terrifying the strength of the Noive villagers would be if it fell into the wrong hands, wanted us permanently under his control."
Following his coronation, Javiere offered everything: noble titles, vast lands in the capital, even heaps of gold. However, the village head at the time refused flatly. The people of Noive Village loved the smell of earth after rain and the silence of the Death Forest more than the urban political intrigues filled with poison and fake smiles.
"Fortunately," Keywiln smiled with pride, "Prince Javiere, or King Javiere by then was a wise and understanding man. He knew that forcing us would only create a terrifying new enemy for his kingdom. Thus, he offered a fair solution."
Keywiln stood up and signaled for them to follow him into the village hall. There, in a room guarded by a heavy iron door, he pulled out a fragrant sandalwood box. Inside was an old parchment scroll that still appeared remarkably well-preserved.
"This is the reason we stay here..." Keywiln said as he spread the parchment on the table.
The scroll was a treaty written in magical gold ink that did not fade with time. Its contents were very strict: The Altoria Kingdom was strictly forbidden from exploiting, forcibly mobilizing, or requiring the residents of Noive Village to become royal soldiers under any circumstances, let alone attacking its inhabitants. In exchange, Noive Village agreed to provide military assistance only if the sovereignty of the Altoria Kingdom was in a critical state or on the verge of collapse.
"This document also states that the kingdom is forbidden from recruiting villagers unless the villager themselves desires it of their own free will. We also reserve the right to strike back or kill if we are ever attacked by irresponsible parties. To this day, this document is known as the Noive-Altoria Treaty." Keywiln said, concluding his story.
Ronan, Rin, Oliver, Chloe, and Harold, their shield warrior, leaned in to examine the treaty. Their eyes widened when they saw the large seal with the winged lion emblem, the pure seal of the Altoria royal family protected by a magical sigil. There was no doubt; this was an original document holding the highest legal power in the kingdom.
"So that's why..." Ronan muttered, stroking his chin. "I always wondered why even the greatest adventurers never heard of 'warriors' from Noive in the capital. It turns out you chose to disappear from history."
"Great power often brings disaster to its owner, young man." Keywiln said as he rolled the parchment back up. "We prefer to live as farmers who can sleep soundly at night rather than generals whose hands are stained with blood but whose hearts are empty."