The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the landscape as Nyx and Zyrith trudged along the final stretch of their journey. The air was thick with the scent of earth and pine, but it was tinged with something else—an undercurrent of anticipation that made Nyx’s skin prickle. After hours of navigating the dense forest, they finally emerged from the trees, revealing a sprawling view of the town of Fujihama.
Fujihama was a stark contrast to the oppressive shadows of the Grove. The buildings, though weathered and worn, stood with a relaxed demeanor, inviting yet unassuming. The streets were bustling with townsfolk going about their daily routines, the sounds of laughter and chatter filling the air. The scent of fresh bread wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the marketplace. Children’s laughter echoed from a nearby alley, a sharp contrast to the serious expressions of the adults who passed by, their conversations hushed but laced with a sense of urgency. It was a place that seemed to exist on the fringes of danger, blissfully unaware of the darkness that had taken root in the world beyond its borders.
Nyx scanned the scene, his eyes narrowing as he took in the town. This was it—the place where he could gather supplies, gather information, and perhaps find a way to get stronger. He turned to Zyrith, who was watching him closely, as if trying to gauge his thoughts.
“That’s it,” he said, pointing toward the inn that loomed at the edge of the town square, its sign creaking gently in the breeze. “Let’s go.”
Zyrith nodded, her expression resolute. They made their way toward the inn, the wooden door creaking open to reveal a cozy interior filled with the warmth of a crackling hearth. The atmosphere was inviting, but Nyx felt the familiar weight of caution settle upon his shoulders. He had no intention of letting his guard down, not here, not now.
As they stepped inside, the innkeeper glanced up from behind the counter, a friendly smile spreading across her face. “Welcome to the Golden Lantern! What can I do for you two travelers?”
Nyx barely acknowledged her, his focus already shifting to the dimly lit corners of the room. He could see a few patrons scattered about, lost in their own conversations. It felt safe, yet he remained acutely aware of the potential threats lurking in the shadows. He finally looked at the innkeeper and said, “One room.”
Zyrith, who seemed to be absorbing the warmth of the place, took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
“Of course!” the innkeeper said, her smile unwavering. “I have just the place for you. It’s upstairs, quiet, with a lovely view of the town square.”
As she busily prepared the key, Nyx noticed the briefest flicker of something in her eyes—recognition, perhaps, or suspicion. His grip tightened on the key as he scanned the room once more, his senses tingling with the awareness that safety was a fleeting illusion.
Beside him, Zyrith fidgeted, her fingers twisting together nervously. He could feel her gaze on him, a weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. It was as if she was grappling with something deep within her, and he found himself wondering what thoughts swirled behind those violet eyes.
“Excuse me,” Zyrith finally ventured, her voice hesitant. “I just wanted to say… Thank you for killing the Crimson Claw back there. I don’t think I could have taken them by myself. I am indebted to you more than you know.”
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Nyx turned to her, the sincerity in her eyes catching him off guard. For a fleeting moment, he felt a pang of something—gratitude, perhaps, or even camaraderie. But he quickly steeled himself against it. This was a dangerous game they were playing, and he couldn’t afford to get too close.
“I know we agreed to end the contract,” Zyrith continued, her voice trembling slightly, “and I don’t know why you are here, but if I can help you in any way, please tell me.”
He studied her, searching for any sign of deception, but all he found was a raw honesty that made him uneasy. The weight of her words hung between them, heavy with expectation.
“No,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. “I don’t need your help.”
With that, he turned on his heel and strode toward the staircase, leaving Zyrith standing there, her expression shifting from surprise to disappointment. He could feel her gaze on his back, a silent plea that he chose to ignore.
As he climbed the stairs, Nyx felt a strange mix of emotions swirling within him. He had been beaten, belittled, and deemed useless his entire life, yet here was Zyrith, offering him a lifeline, a chance to share the burden of their shared pain. But he couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t afford to care, should he fall back into the same despair he crawled out of.
Reaching the top of the stairs, he paused outside the door to their room, his hand hovering over the handle. The inn was quiet, the sounds of the town below fading into the background. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead.
He pushed the door open, stepping into the room. It was small but comfortable, with two beds and a window that framed a view of the town square below. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow across the landscape. Nyx moved to the window, his heart racing as he scanned the streets for any sign of danger. Fujihama might be a temporary refuge, but it would also be the place where he would set his next plan into motion. And this time, he wouldn’t be caught off guard.
As Nyx looked out the window, the town square below bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, his gaze fell upon a familiar figure. Zyrith was on the ground, her body curled slightly as if she had been knocked down. Standing over her were two adventurers, their cruel laughter carrying up to his window.
Nyx smacked his teeth in irritation. She was no longer his problem—the contract had ended, and whatever trouble she found herself in now was none of his concern. He turned away from the window, his steps heavy as he made his way toward the bed.
But just as he was about to dismiss the scene entirely, one of the adventurers shouted something that made his blood run cold.
“You’re useless, you couldn’t even protect your village…”
The words struck Nyx like a physical blow, the memories flooding his mind in an instant. Useless. The word echoed in his head, dragging him back through time. He saw himself on Earth, beaten by his stepfather, mocked and bullied in school. He felt the sting of rejection as Princess Seraphine discarded him, the cold stone of the dungeon walls closing in as he was deemed worthless. The Crimson Claw’s jeering voices rang in his ears, their words laced with disdain.
Useless.
The word reverberated through him, each memory fueling the rage that now coursed through his veins like fire. His vision blurred, and the world around him seemed to fade, replaced by a single, burning desire for retribution. His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as his anger consumed him.
In that moment, something inside Nyx snapped. He could feel the darkness rising within him, a storm of fury that demanded release. The adventurers’ laughter still echoed in his ears, but it was no longer a sound—now, it was a trigger.
He spun on his heel, his heart pounding as he headed back to the window. The rage twisted his features into something cold and unrecognizable, his mind no longer his own. There would be no hesitation this time, no holding back.
Nyx’s vision tunneled as he focused on the scene below, his rage sharpening into a deadly point. The window was no longer a barrier but an invitation—a threshold he was about to cross. Those adventurers had no idea what they had just unleashed.
And neither did he.