The Kingdom of Balmount was a place where humans and beastmen lived together in harmony, their lives intertwined with mutual respect and cooperation. The streets were alive with the bustle of daily life, traders hawking their goods from vibrant stalls, and the air filled with the mingling scents of fresh vegetables, sizzling meats, and baked bread. Couples, families, and groups of friends moved about, some laughing, others engaged in quiet conversation. Among them, beastmen with fur of various shades walked side by side with humans, all sharing in the daily rhythm of the kingdom.

In the midst of this bustling scene, a young boy with black hair and black eyes moved through the crowd, his small hand held firmly by an older man. The boy, dressed in simple, worn clothes and brown sandals, looked around with wide eyes, taking in the lively atmosphere. The older man, with matching black hair streaked with gray and black eyes that held a spark of warmth, guided the boy through the streets. He wore a plain tunic and trousers, his feet clad in sturdy black sandals, and despite his age, he moved with a spry energy.

As they walked, the old man glanced down at the boy and asked with a smirk, "What do you think about having pork tonight, Jeffery?"

The boy, Jeffery, looked up at his grandfather with a gentle smile and replied, "Pork sounds good, Grandpa."

The old man, Subaru, chuckled at his grandson's response, his eyes scanning the market as they continued. Jeffery, meanwhile, observed the world around him, noting how peaceful everything seemed. Beastchildren played with human children, their laughter ringing out above the hum of the marketplace. He thought about how different this place was from the stories he had heard of other kingdoms.

Their stroll came to a halt at a small stand where a woman in her late fifties was selling vegetables and meat. She had brown hair tied back and black eyes that sparkled with life. She wore a green gown with an apron over it, her hands busy as she arranged her goods. When she noticed Subaru, she broke into a wide smile, laughing as she greeted him.

"Well, if it isn't the man who walked right in front of my business!" she teased, her voice full of warmth.

Subaru smirked, replying, "It's good to see you too, Lizzie."

The woman, Lizzie, shook her head with a grin. "It's been a long time since you came by. I thought maybe old age had finally caught up with you."

Subaru let out a sarcastic laugh. "You and your jokes, Lizzie."

Lizzie's eyes shifted to Jeffery, who was still holding Subaru's hand. "And would you look at that, you've got yourself—" She paused, waiting for Subaru to finish her sentence.

"My grandson," Subaru quickly said, pulling Jeffery forward so Lizzie could get a better look at him.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Grandson? I thought you were a bachelor for life, with no one to love you!" she joked, earning a wounded smirk from Subaru.

She turned her attention to Jeffery, smiling warmly. "How are you doing, Jeffery?"

"I'm good," Jeffery replied politely, smiling back.

Lizzie gave Subaru a playful nudge. "I hope this old man is feeding you well?"

Jeffery nodded. "Grandpa takes good care of me."

Lizzie looked genuinely shocked. "Well, I didn't think you had it in you, Subaru!" she said, giving him a good-natured smack on the shoulder.

Subaru laughed awkwardly, while Jeffery watched their interaction with curiosity. He had always assumed his grandfather didn't have many friends, but here was a woman who seemed to know him well. As they continued to chat, Jeffery's attention wandered back to the lively market around them. He marveled at the sight of different people and beastmen, noting how their mana signatures varied in color.

When he turned his attention back to Lizzie, he saw that her mana was absent, just like any ordinary person's. Then, as he was about to look away, a girl suddenly bumped into him, causing him to stumble back slightly.

Jeffery looked down to see a girl about his age, wearing tattered rags. She had brown hair and black eyes, and her expression was one of fear and desperation. A loaf of bread lay by her side, and she quickly snatched it up, her hands trembling.

"Sorry," she mumbled, her voice tiny and filled with anxiety.

Before Jeffery could respond, the girl turned and ran off, clutching the bread to her chest. He watched her go, a sense of unease settling over him. He instinctively checked her mana and was shocked to see that it was pitch black, unlike anything he had ever seen before. He stood there, staring after her, trying to make sense of what he had just witnessed.

"Jeffery?" his grandfather's voice broke through his thoughts.

Jeffery turned to see Subaru holding a brown bag filled with vegetables. "Is something wrong?" Subaru asked, concern etched on his face.

Jeffery shook his head. "Nothing, Grandpa."

Subaru eyed him curiously but then smiled. "Alright, let's head home. I'll make you my best dish tonight," he said, laughing heartily.

Jeffery smiled back, but his mind was still on the girl. As they walked away, with Lizzie waving them off and Subaru making small talk, Jeffery couldn't shake the image of the distressed girl and her dark mana. Something about her was different, and he couldn't help but wonder who she was and why her mana was so unusual.

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In the alleys of the bustling kingdom of Balmount, where life thrived amidst the markets and lively streets, a small figure darted through the crowds. The little girl, with brown hair tangled in knots and black eyes filled with urgency, wore tattered rags that barely covered her frail form. She clutched a loaf of bread tightly to her chest as she weaved through the busy throngs of people and beastmen, her bare feet barely making a sound on the cobblestone streets.

Turning sharply into a narrow alleyway, she left behind the noise and clamor of the market, entering a world where shadows loomed and hope was scarce. The alley was home to orphans, children who had no one to care for them. Some were human, and others were beastchildren—small, abandoned figures with animal-like features. They huddled in corners, their eyes hollow and their bodies thin from hunger.

The girl, Lily, slowed her pace as she ventured deeper into the alley. The further she went, the fewer children she saw. Most were too sick or injured to move, lying on the cold, hard ground with no one to tend to them. She passed a young beastboy with feline features, his ears twitching weakly as he tried to fight off sleep, and a human girl with a feverish complexion, shivering under a ragged blanket.

Finally, she reached a quiet corner where a boy lay on the ground, his back resting against the wall. He was older than Lily, with the features of a fox—a pair of pointed ears that would have stood tall if not for the exhaustion weighing him down, and a bushy tail that lay limply beside him. His once-sharp eyes were covered with a dirty blindfold, hiding the bruises that marred his face. He wore a tattered brown short and a green shirt, his feet bare and dirtied from the streets.

Lily knelt beside him, her breath coming in short gasps from her hurried run. The boy, sensing her presence, turned his head slightly and smiled—a warm, reassuring smile that seemed to defy the harshness of their surroundings.

"Lily, where have you been?" the boy asked softly, his hand reaching out to touch her face. Eris leaned into his touch, letting him feel her familiar features.

"I went to get something for you, big brother," she replied, her voice still breathless as she guided his hand to the loaf of bread she had brought. She placed it in his hands, feeling a small sense of accomplishment for having found something to bring him.

The boy frowned slightly, his expression full of concern. "Lily, please don't steal for my sake," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

Lily smiled, though her face was flushed from the exertion. "I just wanted big brother to eat," she said softly, her tone pleading for him to accept the food.

With a sigh, the boy took the bread and broke off a small piece. He held it out to her, insisting, "You should eat the rest, Lily."

She shook her head, trying to refuse. "I'm not hungry," she lied, but her body betrayed her when her stomach growled loudly, echoing in the narrow alley. She blushed, embarrassed by her own hunger.

The boy chuckled softly, the sound warm and comforting. "Eat, Lily," he urged, handing the bread back to her. This time, she accepted it, biting into the bread with a hunger that she could no longer deny.

As she ate, the boy listened to the sound of her chewing, a sad smile on his face. "I'm sorry, Lily, for being a useless big brother," he murmured, his voice filled with guilt and regret.

Lily stopped eating, looking up at him with wide eyes. She could see the sadness in his expression, and it broke her heart. "It's fine, big brother," she whispered, her voice full of conviction. "You're not useless."

The boy reached out, gently patting her head. "Thank you, Lily," he said softly, though the sadness in his voice remained.

As the shadows of the alley grew longer, the two siblings sat in silence, their bond providing a small flicker of warmth in the cold, unforgiving world they inhabited.

As the evening sun cast long shadows through the forest surrounding Balmount Kingdom, the air was thick with the scents of pine and damp earth. The sky, a blend of deep orange and purple, signaled the day's end as Jeffery, known as Kibo, walked alongside his grandfather, Subaru. The two moved quietly through the trees, their footsteps muffled by the soft forest floor.

They finally arrived at their destination, a small, secluded clearing where a modest lodge cottage stood nestled among the trees. The cottage, built from weathered wood and topped with a thatched roof, exuded a warm, welcoming charm. Smoke curled lazily from a stone chimney, and a small garden lined the front, filled with herbs and vegetables. The windows, framed by shutters, glowed faintly with the remnants of daylight, promising shelter and comfort within.

Subaru, holding a brown bag filled with groceries in one hand, approached the cottage door. As Kibo opened the door, Subaru turned to him and said, "Kibo, go wash up and change your clothes."

"Okay, Grandpa," Kibo replied, but as he took a step forward, he suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He knelt down, unable to stop himself from vomiting. As he did, his carefully maintained disguise—a facade of black hair and eyes—began to fade, revealing his true appearance: white hair and blue eyes.

Subaru's eyes widened in concern. He quickly set the groceries on a nearby table and rushed to Kibo's side, gently tapping his back. "It must be hard, using your mana to keep up that disguise," Subaru said softly, trying to comfort his grandson.

In Kibo's mind, frustration mixed with exhaustion. Of course, it's hard. I'm just a two-year-old kid with a weak, powerless body. How am I supposed to be strong all the time? he thought, still retching.

Subaru interrupted Kibo's thoughts, his voice soothing. "Don't worry, Kibo. Let it all out," he said, continuing to rub Kibo's back.

When Kibo finally stopped vomiting, Subaru reached out, gently placing his hand on Kibo's head. "Go change, Kibo. I'll clean up this mess," Subaru instructed.

Kibo looked up at him, guilt flickering in his eyes. "Sorry, Grandpa. I should be the one to clean up."

Subaru laughed, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. Your old grandpops has got it covered," he replied with a grin, his warmth and humor easing Kibo's worry.

Sometimes my grandfather amazes me, Kibo thought, feeling a mix of admiration and relief. He managed a small smile and said, "Okay, Grandpa," before standing up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and heading to his small room.

As Subaru watched Kibo disappear into the room, he scratched his head thoughtfully. Now, where did I keep that napkin? he wondered, glancing around the cottage.

Kibo's room was simple, yet comforting, with a small bed tucked against the wall, a wooden chest at its foot, and a single window that looked out into the forest. The walls were adorned with a few hand-carved trinkets, and a thick woolen blanket lay neatly folded at the end of the bed.

Kibo collapsed onto his bed, feeling utterly drained. It's been two years, he mused, staring up at the wooden ceiling. And this is the first time Grandpa's allowed me to go to the kingdom with him to get groceries.

He looked down at his small hands, feeling the weight of his young age and the burden he carried. A pang of longing hit him hard as he thought of his mother. I miss her. I hope she's okay, he thought, his voice catching in his throat. He touched his face, the sadness welling up inside him until it spilled over in silent tears that slid down his cheeks.

As the forest outside began to settle into the stillness of night, the soft sounds of Kibo’s quiet sobs were all that could be heard within the small cottage.