Late morning.

I woke up feeling oddly refreshed, despite having slept on the rocky floor inside the cave’s opening.

Stretching my limbs, I took a moment to gather my thoughts.

The events of yesterday felt surreal—meeting a dragon, freeing it, and in return, inheriting its essence. If not for the broken sword resting beside me, I might have dismissed it as a mere dream.

“I should get going,” I murmured, pushing myself up and heading toward the river.

As I splashed water onto my face, I noticed something odd—every last scrap of the fish I had left from last night was gone.

“The bear must’ve helped itself,” I mused. Not that it mattered. Right now, my priority was finding my way back to the manor.

I scanned my surroundings, realizing just how unfamiliar this forest was.

I had no idea where I was, let alone which direction I should go.

My eyes drifted toward the distant mountain range, its silhouette against the sky stirring something in me—an odd sense of familiarity, a memory just out of reach.

Then—

Gnaaarwll—

My stomach growled, loud and insistent.

“This early?” I muttered in surprise.

Well, first things first. I needed food. My eyes roamed my surroundings, searching for a potential meal.

Right at that moment, something caught my eye—a trail of smoke rising above the treetops.

"Wildfire?" I muttered to myself, then quickly shook my head. "No… people!" My heart leaped with excitement.

The smoke wasn’t too far from where I was. Without wasting time, I hurried toward it, pushing through the thick underbrush.

After walking for a while, I reached a small clearing. There, nestled among the trees, was a makeshift tent—branches and leaves woven together to form a simple shelter.

I stopped in my tracks. "Wait…" I whispered, realizing I needed to think this through. How should I approach? I couldn’t just barge in. And what excuse would I give for being out here? I couldn’t exactly say I had met a dragon and gained its power—no one would ever believe something that absurd.

As I stood there debating, a voice suddenly called out.

"Who… who are you?"

The words came from the bushes near the tent.

A man stepped forward; his gaze wary. From his clothes, I could tell he was a hunter. His crossbow was already raised, aimed directly at me as if I were trespassing.

I gasped and quickly raised my hands.

"Please… I need help, I’m lost," I stammered.

The hunter didn’t lower his weapon. His eyes stayed sharp, studying me carefully.

"Lost?" he repeated. "What do you mean, lost?"

“I was gathering firewood when I slipped and fell. After that, I think I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I couldn’t remember where I was… and I got lost,” I answered calmly, though I had to lie about what really happened. It wasn’t entirely false—I truly didn’t know where I was, so some of the lie was justified.

The hunter’s eyes stayed locked on me; his crossbow still raised.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? You could be with a bandit group, just waiting for your friends to spring out from the bushes and ambush me,” he said, his tone serious.

I couldn’t blame him. He had no reason to trust me. But even if he shoots his shot, it would be pointless—his arrow likely wouldn’t even pierce me.

For a brief moment, my intrusive thought of disarming him crossed my mind. It would be very easy—there was no way he could stop me. But that wasn’t the right approach. Forcing him into submission felt wrong on so many levels. The real challenge was figuring out how to convince him that I was telling the truth.

Then, from behind the hunter, rustling came from the bushes. A hound emerged. It rubbed against the hunter’s leg before shifting its gaze to me. Slowly, it stepped forward, sniffing curiously.

“Fweet—boy, get back,” the hunter whistled, calling his hound to stop.

But instead of retreating, the hound dashed toward me. It jumped onto my leg, barking playfully, its tail wagging wildly, as if asking for attention.

The hunter’s expression shifted slightly. Seeing his hound so unafraid, he slowly lowered his bow.

“You’re… really lost?” he asked, his voice still wary but softer now.

Before I could answer—

“Gnnnawrrll—” my stomach let out a loud growl.

I gave a weak, embarrassed smile.

“Have you eaten?” the hunter asked.

“I… I haven’t,” I admitted quite instantly.

A moment later, I sat near the campfire by the makeshift tent, eating a chunk of roasted meat given by the hunter. He sat across from me, idly stroking his hound, who rested beside him.

“You really don’t remember anything besides gathering firewood?” the hunter asked, his tone still carrying a hint of doubt.

“I… Ufff—” I paused, quickly swallowing the roasted meat I had been chewing. “No, I really don’t remember.”

The hunter studied me for a moment before nodding. “So, you weren’t lying after all.”

“Thank you for believing me,” I said sincerely.

“Don’t thank me. Thank Buds over here. If it wasn’t for him, I probably would’ve shot you,” he said, motioning toward his hound.

“So, your name is Buds,” I said playfully, looking at the hound.

The moment I called its name, Buds eagerly trotted over, rubbing against my side, his tail wagging furiously. I chuckled and gave him a few well-deserved pets.

“Thanks for the meal. I hope I didn’t eat all of your supplies,” I added, glancing at the generous portion of roasted meat he had given me.

“Don’t worry about it. I have enough,” he replied, sharpening his knife with slow, deliberate strokes.

Now for the moment I’d been waiting for. Without hesitation, I asked, “I couldn’t get my bearings. Can you tell me where this place is?”

The hunter glanced up at me before answering, “We’re in Dark Hill Forest.”

“Dark Hill Forest…” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper as my mind reeled in shock.

I knew this place. I had heard of it, but I had never set foot here before.

Dark Hill Forest was within the kingdom of Ukhenia—a kingdom far from Shaelia, where the manor I had resided in was located.

To travel from Ukhenia to Shaelia, one had to cross Rothrosia, the kingdom situated between them. The journey alone would take weeks, possibly months, not to mention the mountain range standing between them.

While I was still trying to grasp the weight of my situation, the hunter had already started packing his belongings and clearing out the campsite.

Watching him tear down the makeshift tent, I asked, “You’re leaving already?”

The hunter glanced at me briefly before continuing to pack. “It’s not safe here. Yesterday, a monstrous roar was heard deep within the forest. I don’t want to sit around and find out what made it.”

A bead of sweat formed on my forehead. That roar… was mine. It had happened when I confronted that massive black bear. I tried to keep my expression neutral, hoping he wouldn’t suspect anything. After all, who would ever imagine that sound came from a person?

“You didn’t hear it?” the hunter asked.

Once again, I had to lie. “I… I did. It scared the shit out of me, so I ran and hid.”

The hunter let out a short hum. “Hm…”

I couldn’t tell whether he believed me or not. His expression was unreadable—either he saw right through my lie or simply didn’t care enough to press further.

After finishing packing and making sure the campfire was completely out, the hunter spoke again. “I’ll guide you to the main road. From there, you’re on your own.”

“That would be a great help,” I replied sincerely.

Buds seemed eager to move, his tail wagging furiously as he bounced around.

Before long, we arrived at a well-trodden road. Though worn and uneven, it was still a road.

The hunter pointed in a direction. “Head south, and you’ll find a small settlement. Maybe the folks there can help you.”

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As Buds licked my hand, I asked, “What about you? Where are you headed?”

“I haven’t finished hunting yet,” the hunter replied. “Me and Buds will head west of Dark Hill Forest and try our luck there.”

Before I could thank him, he held out a coat.

“Here, take this. Your coat’s seen better days—it won’t protect you from the cold.”

Only then did I notice how tattered my clothes had become. My coat was torn in several places, covered in dirt and scratches. I guess that was the result of falling from a tree… and wrestling a bear.

“Snow will fall soon. You’d better find your way home,” the hunter said before turning away.

I bowed slightly. “Thank you.”

With that, I watched as he and Buds disappeared into the forest, fading into the dense trees.

Then, once again, a realization struck me.

I forgot to ask the hunter’s name. Well, he also forgot to ask mine.

Either way, at least now I knew where I was.

“There’s a long journey ahead,” I muttered, letting out a sigh.

The road stretched before me, empty and silent, devoid of any travellers. Just as I was about to move, something caught my eye—a familiar feeling, one I had experienced before.

The silhouette of a mountain range in front of me.

Something about it felt… eerily familiar. Then, like a bolt of lightning, a memory surfaced.

Back in my village, when I was just a child, I used to gaze at a mountain range beyond the horizon. Every evening, I would sit on the worn wooden fence outside our small home, watching as the sun dipped behind those distant peaks.

Now, as I looked closely, the outline of the mountains before me was almost identical.

“Wait a minute…” I murmured in realization.

It was the same mountain range. The only difference was my perspective—I was seeing it from the opposite side.

Which meant…

Beyond those mountains lay the kingdom of Aethria, where my village was located—more importantly, my home and my mother.

My heart pounded.

Memories came rushing back all at once—the laughter of my childhood, the warmth of my mother’s embrace. The days before I was traded away, before my life was taken from me.

It had been over ten years since I last saw my village.

And now, for the first time in a decade, I was close enough to return.

A thought came to me—when it came to traveling distance, my village was much closer than the manor.

“Should I go back to the manor?” I asked myself. I had been absent for a while now; surely, the lord must have assumed I perished in the snowstorm.

But then, another thought surfaced.

“Why should I go back?”

Right now, I possessed power that had forever changed my life. I was no longer the same helpless servant who had once bowed his head and obeyed orders without question. Now, I could do anything I desired.

With renewed determination, I spoke clearly, as if affirming my decision to the world itself.

“Home. I will go back home.”

A choice had been made. A new chapter of my life was about to begin.

Now, the fastest route was to climb the mountain. Before, that would have been an impossible feat. But with my newfound strength, it shouldn’t pose any problem at all.

And so, I ran.

I abandoned the road and sprinted through the valley, up the hills, pushing forward toward the mountain. The distance was vast, but I didn’t slow down. I had been running for quite a while, yet exhaustion never came—not even a hint of fatigue.

At one point, I crossed paths with a pack of wolves. They took notice and began chasing me, but after some time, their presence faded into the distance. That alone was enough to tell me—I was faster than them.

When I finally reached the mountain’s base, I was still unexhausted. Not even winded. A grin spread across my face, satisfaction bubbling inside me at this newfound ability.

"Now, it’s time to climb," I said, excitement clear in my voice. Beyond this mountain lay my village. My home.

Climbing was just as effortless as I had imagined.

My hands gripped on the mountain ledges with ease, my strength allowing me to pull myself up without struggle. My heightened senses warned me of any loose rocks or unstable footholds, while my inhuman agility let me leap from ledge to ledge with little effort.

Little by little, I ascended, drawing ever closer to the peak.

As I reached a steep mountain slope near the peak, snow began to fall.

I pressed on, climbing until I reached the mountain's edge.

The cold didn’t bother me in the slightest—it seemed my body could regulate its own heat. Well, that made sense. Dragons breathe fire, after all, so it wasn’t surprising that their bodies could generate enough warmth when needed and now so am I.

Thick clouds and falling snow obscured the land below, but my enhanced vision cut through them with ease.

I scanned the landscape, searching for any sign of human habitation. Settlements dotted the forest—some nestled in clearings, others by rivers or hills.

The terrain had changed in the ten years I’d been away, making it difficult to recognize my own village.

Suddenly, my eyes locked onto something familiar. A church spire.

The very same one I used to visit with my mother as a child.

“There it is!” I shouted excitedly.

Without thinking, I leapt forward, sliding down the snowy slope before breaking into a full sprint toward the mountain’s edge. My excitement drowned out any sense of caution, and before I realized it—

I jumped.

And immediately regretted it.

The drop was far higher than I had anticipated—easily a hundred times higher than the tree I had jumped from in the forest before.

Beneath me was nothing but thick, white clouds

And below that?

Solid. Rock.

“GAAAARRRGGHHHHHHH!” I screamed as I plummeted.

The wind howled past me. The clouds swallowed my vision, and beyond them, the unforgiving ground rushed toward me at a terrifying speed.

However, unlike before, I had time to adjust my fall, so I decided to land feet first—if I could.

Twisting my body midair, I aimed my legs downward. I was almost there—almost in control—

And then—

KRABOOM!

The impact sent a thunderous shockwave through the ground, forming a massive crater right where I landed.

Unfortunately, my grand plan of landing on my feet?

Was a complete failure.

Instead, I had crashed straight onto my behind.

“Ahhh… that kind of hurt…” I groaned, slowly peeling myself off the ground. A perfect, body-shaped hole was now imprinted in the earth.

“Ow, ow…” I muttered, stretching my limbs. No serious injuries—just the stinging aftermath of a very bad decision.

As I stood up, I made a solemn vow:

Never. Ever. Jump from a height taller than the treetops again.

My house, as I remembered, was located on the outskirts of my village.

I had been running from the mountain base for quite some time now, passing a few small settlements and scattered houses. I moved carefully, making sure not to startle anyone with my inhuman speed. However, I soon realized that I hadn’t encountered a single soul along the way.

As the ground remained visible beneath the thinning snow, I pressed forward, focusing only on my destination. Then, at last, I arrived at a familiar road junction. My heart pounded, beads of sweat forming on my forehead as I neared my home.

I came to a stop, nearly overwhelmed by emotion as I stood in front of it.

My house—a simple peasant home, once shelter to me and my parents—stood before me, though it looked more worn-down than I remembered. The front gate was gone, leaving only a few rotting wooden posts. Parts of the roof had begun to collapse, and the walls bore the scars of neglect.

A flicker of anger stirred in me as I thought of my drunken father, who had never cared for me or my mother. But that bitterness was quickly drowned by the sheer happiness of being home again—the anticipation of seeing my mother after all these years.

Without hesitation, I rushed inside.

The door was unlocked. I stepped in cautiously, my mind racing. It had been ten years—would my mother even recognize me? How should I approach her? But I pushed those worries aside. First, I needed to find her.

The house was empty.

It wasn’t large, so my search was swift, yet the silence that filled every corner sent a sinking feeling through me. Not only was she nowhere to be found, but the entire interior was in shambles. Dust coated the floors, broken furniture lay scattered about, and everything seemed abandoned.

“What happened here?” I whispered in disbelief.

“No, I need answers,” I said, stepping out of my house. “I need to head into the village.”

Without wasting time, I hurried toward the village proper, searching for any sign of people.

The village was eerily quiet. Most houses appeared unkempt, broken, and dilapidated beyond repair. Others stood abandoned. Still, I pressed on, trying not to dwell on it.

It wasn’t long before I spotted an elderly couple sitting outside their porch.

Without hesitation, I approached them and asked, “Pardon my intrusion, but do you know the whereabouts of the family that lived in the house on the outskirts of the village? The Vale family.” Vale was my surname—my full name, Aldrous Sebastian Vale.

The elderly couple exchanged curious glances before the old man spoke. “The Vale family? Haven’t seen them in a long while… they might have succumbed to the plague.”

“Plague? What plague?” I asked, my chest tightening.

The couple gave me an odd look, as if I had asked something strange.

Then the old woman said, “If you want to know about them, seek out old man Gillman.”

“Ah, Mr. Gillman…” I muttered. He was a good friend of my mother’s—an older gentleman whose son I used to befriend.

After thanking the couple, I rushed toward Mr. Gillman’s house, anticipation swelling inside me. “I hope he’s still around,” I whispered to myself.

Luck was by my side. As I arrived, I spotted an elderly man hunched over, feeding his chickens. His features were much older now, but there was no doubt—it was him.

"Mr. Gillman," I called softly, careful not to startle him.

He shifted his gaze toward me, and for a brief moment, silence lingered between us.

"I… I'm Aldrous, James’s childhood friend. Son of Anne… Anne Vale," I said, revealing my identity.

Mr. Gillman’s eyes widened. "Al… Aldrous…" His voice trembled, and tears welled up in his eyes.

Without hesitation, he rushed toward me and embraced me tightly. "I'm sorry…" he whispered; his voice thick with sorrow as tears streamed down his face.

I stood frozen, unable to speak. Deep inside, a terrible feeling stirred—I had a hunch something had happened to my parents, my mother especially.

After regaining his composure, Mr. Gillman finally told me everything.

A year before a plague swept through the region, both my parents caught it. There was no cure.

My father was the first to fall ill. He grew weaker by the day and passed within a week. His body was buried in a mass grave alongside the others who had succumbed.

Then a month later, my mother caught the plague. When she died, Mr. Gillman couldn’t bear the thought of her being buried in a mass grave. He personally requested to take her body and laid her to rest beneath the old elder tree near our house.

He kept on apologizing, but I assured him it wasn’t his fault.

Evening came, and the sun began dipped below the horizon.

In front of the elder tree, I knelt, grieving alone at my mother’s grave.

That night, I couldn’t rest my eyes or even go to sleep.

I stayed alone in my old house, lost in memories of the past.

Morning came.

As the sun began to rise, its light caught my eye. I hadn’t slept that night, just lay there on the ground of my house, lost in thought.

“Aldrous…” a voice called from outside. It was Mr. Gillman.

He brought me food and drink for breakfast, neatly packed in a willow basket. After freshening up and cleaning myself, I sat down with him and ate my meal.

“Once again, thank you for the food,” I said after finishing.

A smile formed on Mr. Gillman’s face as he spoke. “You’ve really grown into a fine young man.”

I chuckled. “I’m glad you’re still healthy and strong.”

We exchanged a warm smile before I continued, “I’m really glad I was able to meet you again, Mr. Gillman.”

“So am I…” he said before pausing for a moment, then continued, “I’m old, Aldrous, very old. Soon, my time will come to an end. You, on the other hand, still have a long journey ahead—you have a whole life waiting for you,” he said sincerely.

I gave him a reassuring smile. I knew what he was trying to convey. The death of my parents, especially my mother, had been hard on me—mentally and emotionally. But I persevered because I knew she was in a better place now.

“I understand. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine,” I said, assuring him that I was still standing, that I hadn’t given up on life.

Mr. Gillman let out a quiet breath of relief after hearing my words.

Then he said, “I’m glad your debt has been paid, even though it was a bit too late. I truly tried to get word to you that both your parents had passed, but to no avail. This region was completely sealed off when the plague swept through,” he spoke with a tone full of disappointment and regret.

However, it seemed Mr. Gillman misunderstood my situation. He believed my debt to the lord of the manor had been fulfilled, but in reality, things had become far more complicated than that. If I could tell him the truth, I would, but I chose to keep it to myself—my encounter with the dragon and the inheritance of its power were not things I was ready to share.

Mr. Gillman continued, “My home is open to you. Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you for the offer—I truly appreciate it—but there’s nothing left for me here anymore,” I said solemnly.

I took a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve decided to become a wanderer and travel across the land.”

Mr. Gillman looked shocked at first, but then a gentle smile formed on his face. “If that’s what you wish for, then I won’t stop you. I only ask for one thing—promise me you’ll be careful out there.”

Before he left for home, he told me about my childhood friend, his son James, who had been enlisted into the Aethrian army a few years ago—it was mandatory.

The sun stood high in the sky as I visited my mother’s grave once more. “Goodbye, dearest mother. I’ll be back someday, I promise” I said softly before making my way out of the village.

Along the way, I stopped by the mass grave where my father was buried, paying my respects. He may have been good for nothing, but he was still my father.

The day was bright, despite the blanket of snow covering the land. It didn’t seem so bad—plus, I didn’t feel the cold at all. As I gazed into the distance at the vast landscape of mountains and untouched forests, I couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement.

A new journey awaited me.