The battlefield was filled with bodies, and everything was drenched in blood. Swords, spears, arrows, and many other weapons were lying on the ground. Lloyd stood frozen, terrified by the sight of the battlefield. All of his subordinates lay dead on the ground. Suddenly, a hand drenched in blood caught Lloyd leg. Lloyd slowly tilted his head downward, only to notice that it was his subordinate.

“P-please....help me‚" the subordinate said in a weak voice.

Lloyd slowly reached out his hand towards him.

Suddenly, he jolted awake, his heart pounding against his ribs. His fingers dug into the mattress as he stared at his hands, half-expecting them to be drenched in blood. But there was nothing—just sweat.

He exhaled sharply, running a shaky hand through his damp hair.

“When will these nightmares stop…?” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lloyd's room came into view–a modest space with polished wooden floors and ceiling. A simple bed with a green blanket sat near a window. Beside the bed a tall bookshelf‚ and across the room‚ a desk and table completed the setup.

“Oi‚ are you asleep‚" a voice came from the other side of the door.

Lloyd groggily got out from his bed and walked to the door. As he opened it‚ he met with a fierce glare–standing before him was a girl‚ her eyes burning with intensity. In her hand‚ she held a wooden bowl–its design reminiscent of the mediaeval period–covered by a matching wooden plate.

“Lloyd‚ you're late‚" the girl said‚ her tone sharp with anger.

“Oh sorry Rayna‚ i didn't sleep well‚" Lloyd replied.

“i don't want to hear your excuses‚" the girl‚ Rayna‚ said sharply. She shoved the wooden bowl into Lloyd's hand.

“Mom sent some curry‚ so eat it quickly and get to the store. If your late‚ you'll be working hours without pay!" Her glare was sharp‚ no room for argument.

Without waiting for a response‚ Rayna turned and stormed off‚ her irritation evident in every step.

Lloyd shut the door behind him‚ sat at the table‚ and picked up the spoon resting beside his meal. Without much thought‚ he began eating the breakfast Rayna had brought.

But Lloyd barely tasted the curry as he ate, his mind lingering on the battlefield in his dreams. By the time he finished, the morning sun had fully risen. With a sigh, he grabbed his coat and stepped outside, heading toward the store.

Lloyd walked through the crowded street‚ where the people's clothing gave of a mediaeval-era look. As he passed‚ many greeted him with a cheerful “Good Morning."

He returned their greetings with a nod and a smile‚ continuing on his way.

Just then‚ a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Lloyd‚ heading to the store for work?" A familiar voice said.

“Lloyd turned to see a young soldier with short brown hair‚ wearing a steel armor for daily duty."

“Yes‚ and how are you doing?‚ Robert‚" Lloyd replies.

“Forget about me–every girl in this town is asking about you. It's unfair!"

"Lloyd scratched his cheek awkwardly and gave a sheepish smile. 'What?'"

"Oh, come on, don’t act like you don’t know," Robert sighed, crossing his arms.

“So heading to the gate for duty?" Lloyd asked calmly.

“Nope‚ I'm heading to the eastern city‚" Robert replied.

“What happened" Lloyd replied.

“No Idea. Orders from the higher-ups. But i heard the king of Velldore died‚ so maybe our country is planning for an attack‚" Robert said with a shrug.

“What? The king of Velldore died?" Lloyd asked‚ his tone calm but intrigued.

“Yes‚ i heard he was assassinated. Oh‚ it's getting late–i should go. I'll talk to you later... if i come back alive‚" Robert said with a grin.

“Lloyd waved at Robert and made his way to the store. As he walked‚ he thought to himself‚ ‘So Mathieu's dead.' He let out a deep breath and muttered‚ ‘None of my business."'

"Lloyd reaches the store, where a large wooden sign overhead reads Herbal Haven. Stepping inside, he finds himself in a quaint medieval apothecary. Wooden shelves line the walls, filled with glass vials, while dried herbs hang from the ceiling, their scents of chamomile and eucalyptus filling the air.

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Rayna stands near the entrance, arms crossed, still glaring at him. She huffs, 'You're so lazy! Who takes twenty-four minutes just to finish breakfast?'"

"She takes out a pouch and hands it to Lloyd. 'You're late, so your punishment is to go to the market and buy these medicinal herbs.'

Lloyd takes the pouch, raising an eyebrow. 'Pretty sure Ma’am told you to buy these.'"

"Rayna looks a bit embarrassed and quickly replies, 'So what? I'm—I'm giving you this task as a punishment! Now hurry up and leave!'"

"Lloyd gives a kind smile and leaves the store to buy the medicinal herbs. He reaches the market and spots a stall, heading over.

Behind it stands an old woman. The moment she sees Lloyd, recognition flashes in her eyes. 'Oh, Lloyd! How have you been?'"

"Lloyd smiles and says, 'I'm good. How about you, Ma’am?'

'I'm good too. So, what kind of herbs are you looking for today?' the old woman replies.

'Elderberry, wild sage, and rosehips,' he answers, handing her the pouch. The old woman nods and begins picking out the requested herbs.

As Lloyd waits, he glances around the market. A commotion nearby catches his attention—people are gathering in one place, and amidst the noise, he hears someone crying for help."

Lloyd hurried to the scene, his eyes immediately locking onto the source of the commotion—a wounded child lay unconscious in his mother’s lap. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her son, her cries echoing through the marketplace. Helpless, she could do nothing but scream for aid.

Without a second thought, Lloyd turned on his heels and sprinted back to the herb stall. He swiftly grabbed a handful of necessary herbs before rushing back to the mother’s side. Kneeling beside her, he gently took her trembling hands, his calm gaze meeting hers.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll heal your child’s wounds.”

The woman looked up at him, eyes brimming with desperation. At that moment, to her, Lloyd was nothing short of an angel.

“Thank you… thank you, young man,” she whispered, her voice shaky but filled with hope.

Lloyd carefully examined the child’s head injury. Without hesitation, he crushed the herbs into a paste, working with steady hands before applying it to the wound. He then took a clean piece of cloth and wrapped it securely around the injury, ensuring it would hold.

Looking up at the mother, he offered a reassuring nod. “Your child’s wound will heal soon. There’s no need to worry.”

The woman’s face lit up with relief, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks—this time, out of gratitude. She bowed her head slightly. “Sir, you saved my child, yet I have nothing to offer you in return…”

Lloyd shook his head, a small, kind smile on his lips. “There’s no need. I don’t need anything.”

With that, he stood up and walked away, disappearing into the busy streets as the mother held her child close, whispering prayers of thanks.

Returning to the herb stall, he picks up his grocery bag. The old woman watches him with a warm smile and says, 'You really are a good boy, Lloyd.'

Lloyd returns her smile and replies, 'Thank you.' Then, he leaves."

"Lloyd returns to the store and hands the pouch to Emma, Rayna’s mother. She smiles warmly and says, 'Thanks, Lloyd. I’m really sorry that Rayna keeps pushing her work onto you.'

Lloyd shakes his head. 'I like working, so it’s not a problem, Ma’am. I should head inside and help Sir with stacking the boxes.' With that, he steps into the storeroom.

Emma watches him leave and lets out a sigh. 'Such a hardworking boy… I wish Rayna were more like him.'"

"Inside the storeroom, Lloyd sees stacks of boxes piled high. Rayna’s father is busy arranging them when Lloyd steps in and picks up a box to help.

Rayna’s father glances at him and says, 'Oh, Lloyd, thanks for your help.'

Lloyd nods. 'No problem.'

As he reaches for another box, Rayna’s father suddenly places his hand on top of it, stopping Lloyd in his tracks. Lloyd blinks in surprise, but before he can say anything, the man’s tone turns sharp.

'Oi, Lloyd. Tell me—why are you really working here?"'

“Lloyd is surprised by Rayna’s father, but he maintains a smile and says, 'I don’t understand, sir.'

Rayna’s father narrows his eyes. 'Don’t act like you don’t know, Lloyd.'

Rayna’s father crossed his arms, studying Lloyd. “You know… I’ve always wondered why a man like you chooses to work in a shop.”

Lloyd simply shrugged. “I like helping people.”

The older man’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve heard rumors, you know. About someone like you—a fallen prince from the Kingdom.”

Lloyd’s smile remained unchanged. “Rumors tend to exaggerate things.”

Rayna’s father sighed, shaking his head. “One day, you’ll have to stop running from your past, boy.”

Lloyd’s expression grew more serious. “You're right, sir… and that’s exactly why I can’t tell you. If you need a reason, just think of it as me repaying a great debt to a friend.”

Upon hearing those words, Rayna’s father silently picked up the box Lloyd had been trying to lift. After securing it, he spoke, "Go to the counter and help Rayna."

Lloyd nodded. "Understood." He left the storeroom and walked over to Rayna, who was already at the counter. Her gaze dropped slightly, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I’m sorry… my father tends to suspect everyone," she murmured.

Lloyd gave her a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry about it. It’s natural for a family to be cautious of outsiders. It just means your father really cares about you and your mother."

Rayna looked up at him and smiled softly. "Thanks."

With that, the two got to work, preparing for the incoming customers.

The night was still. Outside, the wind barely stirred, and within the quiet shop, only the soft clinking of glass broke the silence as Lloyd carefully stacked the medicine bottles.

Then—he felt it.

A presence.

The air grew heavy, thick with something unspoken. A cold gust swept in as the shop’s door creaked open, its eerie sound cutting through the silence like a blade.

Lloyd turned, his muscles tensing instinctively. His deep black eyes met the dim lantern light—then settled on the figure standing at the threshold.

An old man in a pristine butler’s uniform.

His posture was impeccable, his aura commanding. Shadows stretched behind him, cast long by the flickering light, but his gaze—sharp, knowing—never wavered.

A moment of silence passed between them, charged and expectant.

And then, at last, he spoke.

"It has been a long time… Mr. Lucien."