It's been a tumultuous three months for Oxdale.

The rebuilding process accelerated as subsidies from the Mocester government flowed. The pain gradually waned as the town recovered. The cries of grief slowly faded as the walls rose once again. Some of the wounds were still there, but they were hidden away, for a new tomorrow was coming.

The Monster Surge had prompted the Mayor, Marvin, and the other powerhouses to set up a budget for a civil defense force. Oxdale, as small as it was, should have had its own layer of protection instead of being caught off guard. In addition, there was also the support of a surprising number of benefactors.

Cleaning up the battlefield proved to be just as challenging as the battle itself. The infected corpses of the monsters had started to cause sickness among the people. Fortunately, Julia was able to provide a treatment plan as well as a prediction of the mutational capability of the pathogens before she went into a coma. The Maester Guild relied on it to conduct a project to produce a comprehensive antidote and preventive medicine. Even so, this new disease still clung to people, causing symptoms like coughing and fever. Only when everyone’s immune system had been substantially enhanced through the supplements did this stop being a threat.

The post-battle instability was heightened by the conflict between the Hensleys and the Harpers. Abraham recovered and was able to walk after a month of treatment. As soon as he was able to leave his hospital bed, he had to engage in the bargaining, squabbling, and disputing of the business entities belonging to the Hensleys. To possess and acquire power, one must have the competence to do so. And the Hensleys, who had just lost two Crusaders, were but a snake without fangs. No one was willing to back them up, therefore, even if she didn't want to, Lady Hensley and her family had to grit their teeth and accepted extremely unfavorable terms. The action of Arnold Hensley and Jasmin Hensley had tipped the balance of the scale. Now, they paid the price for their aggression.

The Harpers, though benefited the most from the Hensleys’ fall, also found themself in a precarious situation, as they became the town's biggest debtor. Still, no one dared press against them. Abraham was the one who had fought two high-ranking Crusaders alone and walked out victorious, even if he had had help. He was now both respected and feared, but mostly the latter.

When Abraham realized his position, he felt delighted. He could use this facade a little bit longer until the Harpers found more stability. No one knew the state of his body better than himself, and it was much worse than how it appeared.

“Let me remind you again,” Jack’s voice remained serious even though more than twelve hours had passed since he had begun diagnosing his father. “You’re condition is not something to be taken lightly. From the tests we have done for the past two months, nothing is improving. Nothing at all. So, until I actually figure something out, you absolutely must use no more than half of your strength. Dad, stop laughing."

Seeing how his son is becoming more and more like a young old man, Abraham couldn’t hold back his genuine smile. He understood that should he fall, Jack would be there.

“Okay, okay, I know. You’re taking after your mother.”

"Yeah, and I understand how mother Sophie felt living with you all those years.”

"As if you’re any better," Abraham countered. “Have you told her about your intentions?”

“I will. You can count on that.”

“You sound both scared and unconvincing, you know?” He patted his son's shoulder. "Don't run away without a word, understand?"

“I know,” Jack puffed out a smile and nodded his head.

Jack was going to leave Oxdale for Mocester, and Edover beyond that, and probably other places inside the Dessotor Empire, too. Three months meant three times he writhed under the effect of the poison in his body left by the Maester Legend. Every time he suffered, his determination to move on grew, and his urge to uncover the mystery of the monster surge got larger. Still, he couldn't just leave everything behind. Therefore, no one had been as busy as him for the longest time. His research and application of mana potion and washing water machines were near completion. He had even managed to draft an instruction manual so that anyone could operate them.

Jack had also been spending a crazy amount of time at the forge to refurbish some of the items in the Harper household.

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"So you're really leaving?" Bastian was lounging on the bench while Jack was crafting another Herald-class sword by himself.

"For the hundredth time, I'll be leaving in the upcoming days.”

"Welp, bad luck for any bastard to become your next teacher," the swordsmith said while picking his nose.

“Then less bad luck for you, right?”

“Don’t compare me with those worthless bunch. Heck, I was able to turn you into a fortune.”

"Just say it out. You gonna miss me!" Jack said with a chuckle.

The sound of his hammer drowned out Bastian's twitch of annoyance. He was about to open his mouth to say something back, but ultimately decided against it.

Finding it strange that Bastian didn't respond, Jack looked up to see the blacksmith staring at him thoughtfully.

"What’s that look?" Jack said as a chill ran down his spine.

“Listen carefully, kid,” Bastian”s voice became serious all of a sudden.

Jack put down his hammer, nodding at the smith for him to continue.

“Remember when I said Technopolis?”

“Artificer’s sanctuary, right?” Jack answered.

“Sanctuary?” Bastian smirked. “More like hell.”

Jack reckoned he shouldn’t question Bastian’s naming and just let the old man get to the point.

“I believe with your… unique personality,” Bastian began after a long breath, “you will eventually find yourself at that damn place. You have to remember, this sanctuary in other’s words is not a dreamland. Yes, there will be a lot of good stuff there, but the bad things are no less.”

Bastian straightened his posture, leaning his head in the direction of his apprentice.

“If you do go to Technopolis, to its center to do whatever the hell you want to do, find Woryn Merdic.”

“Is that person your former master?”

“Yes,” Bastian's eyes softened as if he were looking into the nothingness. “A respectable person in a disgusting society. Find him. My master may yet help you."

“And why would he?”

“Cause you are my student.”

Hearing the pride in Bastian’s voice, Jack couldn’t help but slip out a joyful smile.

“Alright, is there anything else I should pay attention to?”

“Yeah, and do be less of a dumb ass?” Bastain said with a laugh.

With the small talk done, Jack rolled his eyes around, then returned to his work.

The next person to have words with Jack was Meinhard Honingman.

“I feel like having this conversation with you is a bit pointless,” Meinhard said amicably with his hands clasped. “But it’s still better than not saying anything. Be careful!”

“Do I have to be aware of another sanctuary, like Technopolis?”

“Oh, yes, you do. The Arcanists’ one is called the Sanctum of The Arcane. You going there is a part of the deal we made.”

Finding it interesting, Jack couldn’t help but ask.

"And, is it also a ruthless place?”

“Oh, no less than Technopolis, or any other sanctuaries for that matter. Perhaps, the only one that could be considered ‘peaceful’ is the one of your Nightblade faction. It’s called Mistnight Land, in case you’re wondering.”

“Quite a befitting name,” Jack clicked his tongue.

Meinhard shook his head and smiled, his hand revealing a small chestnut brown bag with golden patterns from his inventory bag.

"I hope you won't have to open anywhere near this place." the principal said with a serious voice. “Only use it when you leave this Beiland continent and are well on your way toward the Sanctum of The Arcane. Can you do it?"

“For sure,” Jack said without a shred of doubt in his voice.

Meinhard's gaze fell on the small bag. A hint of unwillingness flashed in them, but then, he gave it to Jack anyway.

“I’m gonna be a bit busy the next few days, so I don't know if I can see you off. So, safe travel!”

Jack spent that afternoon walking around town. Trading activities had returned. The remnants of the volcanic eruption have been processed to facilitate new mineral mining businesses. People move between constructions, rebuilding walls and defenses. As cheerful as the laborers tried to make themself, a faint hint of sadness remained, for they now knew how easily could everything be taken away from them, like dust in the wind.

He stopped by the Medical Center to visit Julia. She was still isolated inside a glass room, surrounded by vital signs monitors. Attached to her body was a system of wires and tubes, like a small insect caught in a spider web.

Julia's body was as skinny as it got, her eyes sunken and her hair fell in patches. The once prideful and willful lady was almost gone. What remained was no better than a lifeless corpse.

Jack was about to say hello through the communication system, but he stopped when he saw tears and her painful, twisted face.

Letting out a sigh, Jack left.

He returned home where mother Sophie was waiting for him with another hearty and delicious meal.