“Is hitting rocks so interesting to you?” Sarey asked upon approaching Allan after he finished his work.

“It is not a living being, at least. Why do you ask this sort of question?” Allan asked, resting, and clutching both hands to seep the pain away.

“Because they are quite hard. These rocks.”

“You've seen for yourself how I ended up when I started. Things could always go wrong at the start, but after some time, things could get better. That is at least the perspective I have on this.”

“Heh... I wish I would have this positivity like yours,” she sneered, mocking her path, and took a seat beside Allan.

“It's not that strange, nor hard. Do you think I am happy, or this... positive all the time? No. Everyone does what they do while some do things that others don't. Do you think some things are easier than others? I don't think so, and you can think otherwise. For me, what appears as a hard thing to do will become easier over time.”

“Shut up already about your explanation that makes so much sense. It makes me even more helpless about my path.” Sarey smacked him on his shoulder to ease her mood. It did help, but only a little. It didn't even bother Allan, who felt wronged by speaking the honest truth.

“Path? Yours... Did 36 promise you something again, or you did?” Allan asked with some ideas of why she was like this.

“Don't talk like you don't understand it... I want to walk side by side with the power and ability to have freedom in these lands as well.”

“I know that, but what is stopping you?”

“Myself. You...? I don't know what else or what's even the problem with myself. It has always been this way... this life of mine.” Sarey answered, sighting and looking at the starry sky that appears somewhat good at the moment.

Allan fell into a silent panic about Sarey's helpless way of talking. He could feel her struggling mood from her words alone, making him realize the truth of her struggle. He was more or less oblivious to any of it, as he held very little to change even his own life. If he was including hers, he would be unable to help her with anything. Instead, it's the exact opposite. Sarey was helping him so much already that he wouldn't be able to live properly without her.

Noticing his silence, Sarey continued talking. “I don't want to be always helpless with my life, you know? There is a bigger world around us thanks to 36. I had mister Terg. That is true, and he shoved me into the bigger world with his many words and experiences. It was great. But here, with 36 and the current situation, there may not be the end of this world of use. Perhaps, not even this world of ours is the end, or further stars and countless worlds out there could be waiting for us.” Sarey said, looking up, and remained firm in her words.

“That sort of thing doesn't sound that pleasing to me. Most worlds out there must be different from ours, or even exactly the same. The harsh reality of death, war, and living day to day should be common everywhere where human settles.” Allan explained his thoughts on this matter.

He knew more than some adults about it because he read a lot about it and saw some of it himself. Although he was young, there were plenty of opportunities to see the Grusha kingdom and annals of history in the library.

“Then I will settle it myself with my fate. I will work harder in the hopes for myself, and no one else.” Sarey said with great conviction, but Allan heard the jump in her unsure voice. She wasn't surprised by Allan's words, nor by this conversation. This helplessness, he knew it very well, but his fate was hopeful for him at this moment. The road was beginning to be clear with each passing day and progressing toward the power of his desires was no longer that hard.

In fact, the weapon training today was absolutely phenomenal and filled him with new-found knowledge and satisfaction.

He knew that this training will end someday, and he would have to start figuring out something else instead. Maybe he would not end on the next training or the next one after the next. Making one thing done before moving towards the next was very familiar to Allan and his learning experiences. It wasn't a problem for him to do so, since the blacksmithing in itself was similar to this view.

For now, any stop or end wasn't something within Allan's scope of understanding. He would never meet the end until he will know what went on within his home, father, and Skoll.

“It is... Great conviction of yours that makes you good...” Allan said after some silence and reluctance. “I know I can't help you with anything, so how about starting to practice this training with me from now on? I could help you with certain things... but don't know which, or even how? We may figure something out if it would be hard.” Allan said, getting up to offer her a hand to get up.

“You are good... It's not bad to have a willingness for such things. 36 will probably never help me. You sure are lucky, Allan.” She took his hand and got up.

“ But I don't feel lucky at all,” Allan replied, obvious to any of their conversation or what Sarey was doing, or talking with him.

“Hmph! If you say som lucky Allan! I see it differently from you, but not so much to make it good. Hard work and luck can make up for talent on their own, but what if there isn't one within me or the other? I can work hard myself, but luck could never get to me.”

“Luck is subjective, while the work and your own Efforts are yours alone, Sarey. Prove it to yourself, and not to me, or your father. Maybe then, you will feel better about it, and not the other way around, worrying and seeing it from my case. Mine is... strange and unique, but that is my guess. You should force yourself to grab into this change and one day, things will get better.” Allan talked with great motivation, hoping to clear things up for Sarey's mood.

“Thank you. but such a world, and such words... You are really something!” Sarey pinched Allan's chest to ease her mood, but it did nothing much. Allan accepted the way Sarey let her frustration out.

“I mean... What is there to gain from the training if all there is to it is pain and suffering? We are just playthings, and less than dust to move a mountain.”

“Easy with this topic, Sarey. Easier paths are surely different, but this is what we have. Do you want to try the spear that I took? Train with it as you would spar with someone and strike some rocks to see it yourself. It put a new perspective upon myself, and it definitely made my mood better.” Allan gripped his spear from aside and offered it to her.

Sarey grabbed it without hesitation and fell back to pour her pent-up anger into an innocent stone. Shouting, sweating, and strained, she stopped after almost half an hour as Allan stopped another swing of her spear. He let her go all out, but stopping her was a thing he must do. Otherwise, she wouldn't stop destroying every little rock on her way.

She was pouting, upset, and sweaty, but somewhat unrestrained. She appeared quite different and felt like that too.

“How was it? Do you feel better?” Allan asked, jolting the spear from her reluctant grab by quite some force.

“I am... Slightly so.” She said, and while Allan did what he did, she leaned on him as her strained legs gave up on her.

“Hey, what...” Allan helplessly caught her with his body, surprised that she was that tired. It didn't occur to him this would be the case.

Putting her down on the ground, he was embarrassed about forcing her through this idea, but he did not know how far she would go.

“Leave me be... I will just take a nap... so tired... nights.” She muttered, clutching Allan's shirt, and closed her eyes.

“Nights? It's still the middle of the day, isn't it?” Allan mumbled as she couldn't stop her from leaving into the dreams.

It was more to say; he didn't dare to do so.

“Well, this is a change, isn't it?” Allan commented and laid her comfortably aside.

Upon doing so, Allan also laid down, resting by her side in this one-of-a-kind moment. He wasn't tired at all, so he decide he would rather wait for her to wake up herself. His wounds were slowly healing over time, so there wasn't any issue with anything.

He will wait here, rest, or he could even do some exercises if he wanted. Alla knew he can't do much to this situation. He can't begin his rock smashing, since he would wake her up. There wasn't anything else to do here, so he decided to wait.

Outside of the forest, Zigmund was walking through the path that led to the Griontesse city. No horse or carriage was his use of transportation this time around.

He had some things prepared for this day, since the things that led to yesterday shouldn't have been that simple. He wore his favorite set of clothes across the long jacket he so loved. His face was indifferent as he walked, but perhaps he held some hope and excitement for today. He wasn't sure, but it wouldn't be the first time that occurred.

In about 10 minutes of his leisure walking, the gates to the town were across from him.

He got inside with no trouble after the guards confirmed his identity and let everyone inside without any further troubles. There was nothing much would any spy gain from going here, so why bother with this?

In fact, this was a mandatory procedure while going through the war. People respected the rules that the Tricloud Alliance spread out since the moment of the invasion.

Walking through the street, Zigmund knew where to go right from the start of his arrival. That was the Guild of Questions, which was located around the middle wings of the town. It was in a street that wasn't all that active with pedestrians, nor businesses in their proximity as well. A simple pub, hotel, and some private small shops were around this semi-closed space.

This Guild was unlike the official kinds run by people's knowledge since their true purposes were kind of hidden. Outside of that, this pub was still part of the everyday lives of many people. After all, it was mainly used for drinking. Any such place would involuntarily become a hub for trading information. It wasn't so surprising to get a drink or some snacks for the folks unaware of the true purpose of this place.

Zigmund walked before the familiar place, and his steps went right towards the entrance. Opening the door, he posed with his sword right around his waist. It was previously hidden behind his long jacket, but this time was different. He was pissed off about something, and it was time to get to know about certain things.

Inside, no one paid the new arrival much attention apart from the employees or the members of the Guild of Questions. They at least glanced at every incoming guest, hoping to discern their intent and hope for their visit. Be it the middle of the day or not, guests would come at any point in the day, since it was open all day long. Morning, afternoon, or midnight was still open, as the information would never cease to flow. That was common sense, built by the Guild of Questions.

One had to have their hands, mind, and opportunity in every moment which was happening at the present. Knowledge was power, and information was no different.

Zigmund did not glance at anyone, while the stare of a few individuals remained on him for a few moments. Letting himself go towards the backdoor, he was stopped by a steward.

“This is not for guests, sir.” He said to Zigmund, stopping him with his hand.

“I will have some words with the owner of this place. Leave if you don't want to lose a limb or two.” Zigmund said with a serious look at this man who was looking way older than himself. He had no hint of lies in his voice, which shocked and surprised the steward.

“S-sir, don't be unreasonable... This is not the place to be like this.”

“I have some sense of an authority to say so.” Zigmund shoved him aside in one motion, turning his efforts to be a bother, rather useless. Zigmund entered the backdoor, revealing a rather surprising hallway that led to the upstairs.

Walking up the stairs, he was around the corner of the first turn when a bunch of people stepped from the door he walked through before.

“You! Stop right there!” Steward from earlier shouted, leading a few members of the Guild to stop this intruder they didn't know or recognized.

“Those are a bunch of idiots. What sort of professional place is this? Am I in the right place? I remember it much better in the past.” Zigmund said, unbothered by their words or attitude. Before caring for them more, he tossed them the golden azure token. It was a circular and flat metallic token, with engraved three human heads in the middle.

“Token of the owner? What? Stop. HEY!” Steward immediately noticed it upon catching this token that Zigmund threw at him. As he did so, he also stopped the rest of the man from the charge.

“S-stop this for now. This thing is precious... and old.” Steward said, clutching the hand before turning and leaving with the other members.

As he did so, Zigmund already left for the upper floors where he didn't enter the second, third, or fourth floor. On the ending path of the stairs, there was a staff door for their room, while on the right was empty. There was no hall or room for anything. It was a wall.

Zigmund Walked to the right, and without much regard, kicked the wall many times over and over again. He made a mess of it in a couple of motions, revealing a hole in the middle. Although it was sturdy wood, with some strengthening, it was nothing against Zigmund's power.

“Well. That was rather robust. It must be new.” He speculated as he leaned down to get inside the new entrance.

Inside, hidden behind the wall, was an office-looking space of noble designs. It looked anything like the downstairs floors or the pub on the lowest floor. It wasn't that wide, but it stretched for about a dozen or so meters.

There were a few lines of tables, but there was no one here in his proximity. That was, apart from a shaking and sweating woman in her thirties, at most.

She was sitting by the particularly good-looking table on the exact opposite side of this high-ceiling hall.

She was frowning with crossed arms around her shoulders and looked at the upcoming guess with some strange excitement on her face.

“What do we have here? Are you a new leader of the Guild of Questions?” Zigmund casually asked, and walked right in front of her table.

“Y-y-y-you?” the woman mumbled as she pointed a finger at him. She appears flabbergasted and excited at the same time.

“What? Is there something wrong?” Zigmund asked, frowning at her strange demeanor. He didn't recognize her, but a certain tinge in her face was strangely familiar.

The woman jumped above the table and reached for Zigmund, where she hugged him with her knees. She was pleading, and somewhat weeping at the appearance of this man.

“I have always wanted to meet you once again. You haven't changed at all, mister!” she uttered and clutched her both hands against his shoulders.

Zigmund froze at this sudden development, and his inability to do anything. He didn't know how to act in this situation. It was one thing to directly stop her efforts. Although the worry in his eyes was adamant. He knew and noticed that this woman had a screw loose somewhere in her head.

“S-stop this.” He tried to shake this woman from his upper body but was unsuccessful. Only after she heard him saying stop did she pull out, reaching the table where she appeared like a vixen. She looked in expectation at the unexpected guest, who she clearly knew.

“W-what is wrong with you, woman?” He questioned her with a flustered expression and bothersome body language.

“S-sir is Zigmund Troutman if I am not wrong?” She said as she sat on top of her table, revealing her knees and long legs, hidden behind her long black dress. Although her action was that of a vixen of a woman, she spoke with politeness.

“Oh? Do you recognize me? What is this about? Who are you?”

“Oh my, how embarrassing on my part. Let me introduce myself, my name is Ziola Tui. My mother was the previous owner and someone who had the pleasure of working with you in the past. Her name was Tall Tui but you should know that very well by now, or the reason you are even here, I presume?” Ziola said, further upping her strange and sexy body language.

“Tui? You, you were a small girl back then?” Zigmund asked as he still didn't see the face of a little girl in her at all. It was more like a caricature of someone... strangely familiar to her mother. Hell, her personality was even crazier.

“Sir remembers. That is right. My mother would be especially honored to see you again, albeit if she would be alive.” Ziola said, withering her eyes, but remained firm in her voice. Almost immediately as she saw him, she recalled the characteristics and his face that was embodied in her mind since that day when she saw him last time.

“Oh shit!” Zigmund quickly understood why this was happening. Awareness of the past was quite easy to recall. Especially the one regarding Tall Tui and the things that revolved all the way back then.