Have you ever wondered if life is just a series of frames—moments stitched together, each one trying to outshine the last? I thought about that a lot while I painted. The brush in my hand felt steady, but my mind never was. Every stroke, every line, every shade—it wasn’t just about capturing what I saw. It was about freezing something intangible.

Life doesn’t pause for you. It doesn’t care if you notice the way sunlight hits a roof or how a shadow bends across a cobblestone street. But that’s where the beauty hides—in the seconds most people let slip away. I hated how easily those moments vanished, how quickly they were replaced by the next. Maybe that’s why I painted. To hold on to what everyone else seemed fine letting go of.

Still, sometimes I wondered—was it enough? Could a painting ever really capture what made something alive? Or was I just fooling myself into thinking I could trap life in a frame? Genius or delusion, the line was thin, and I wasn’t sure which side I stood on most days. But the brush didn’t stop. It couldn’t. Life kept moving, and so did I.

I kept at it—day in and day out—training with my wooden sword. Some might find the repetition mind-numbing and give up halfway through, but for me, it had become a habit. Swing after swing, footwork drills, and refining the basics. Sometimes, I even tried inventing new techniques. Most of the time, they didn’t turn out as I’d hoped, but I still learned something from each attempt.

Alongside my sword practice, I stayed committed to collecting mana through daily meditation. Progress was slow, but it was there. I’d reached the point where I could chant mid-tier attack spells without completely draining myself or passing out. But let’s be real—it wasn’t easy. The process was grueling, almost nightmarish at times. It’s simple to dream about the results, but when you face the actual grind? That’s a whole different story.

Still, I kept practicing what I’d learned from Brandt since his departure. In the short time he was here, he taught me more than I could’ve imagined. I couldn’t help but wonder where he was now. But above all, I was grateful to him—truly grateful. If I ever got the chance to face him again, I’d make sure to thank him properly.

Although I never let my focus on training consume everything. Family time was a constant. It might seem “unproductive” to some, but spending time with them kept me grounded. It gave me a sense of balance, a way to avoid feeling hollow.

Somehow, through all of this, I’d learned to adapt to this new life.

Three years had passed since then.

Three years ago, our landowner died. He was replaced by someone younger—a woman in her thirties. When the landowner passed, all his belongings, including my painting, were returned to the noble family. I never found out where the painting ended up, but the new landowner kept the town peaceful. She worked quietly, rarely showing her face in public over the years.

In those three years, I focused on grinding—both in painting and training. Improvement became a habit, almost second nature. I’d grown, too. At 8 years old, I stood 152 cm tall, with a lean but muscular frame for someone my age. My dark hair and pale blue eyes were still noticeable.

Despite all the effort, my status didn’t reflect much growth. I suspected it was because I’d spent so long staying in the safety of the town.

My level hadn’t budged, and my XP barely increased. That much made sense—XP only came from real experience, like fighting monsters or taking on significant challenges. And since there weren’t any monsters or real opportunities here, progress felt stagnant.

And now, we were on our way to the capital—my first time traveling there. I didn’t know exactly what to expect, but I imagined it as a bustling city, with more buildings, more people, and a completely different energy from the quiet town I grew up in.

This time, we weren’t riding the old donkey. Over the years, we’d managed to afford a horse and a larger cart—almost a proper carriage. Despite enduring droughts and unexpected expenses on the farm, we’d somehow managed to improve our situation, piece by piece. And now, here I was, sitting next to my parents whom hired a neighbour to drive us to the capital, heading to see Clarisse.

Clarisse, now 15, had gone to the academy two years ago at 13. I’ll admit, I doubted her tutoring would pay off, but she proved me wrong. She took up arcane studies—magic studies, of course—and has been staying in the capital ever since.

Recently, she got her mana reserve officially measured and scored a Green—normal reserves. It means she has a balance between power and longevity, which is a solid ranking for most adept mages. Naturally, my parents were over the moon about it. They’ve been ecstatic about her journey ever since she left for the academy.

But this trip wasn’t about enrolling me in the academy. I still had five more years before I’d even be eligible. No, we were heading to the capital for two reasons: to visit my sister and to celebrate the Days of Renewal, the new year festival in this world.

This was my first time celebrating it outside our town. Back home, we usually spent the days with neighbors, gathering outdoors to watch the capital’s fireworks from afar. The fireworks were beautiful, and I’d even painted a scene inspired by one of those nights.

The Days of Renewal are unique because they don’t fall under any month. They’re an extra five days added at the end of the year—a time for rest, wishes, and celebration before a new year begins.

It was currently the year 993, and after these five days, it would turn to 994. This time, we’d be celebrating the festival in the capital itself, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and curiosity about how different it might be from what I’d always known.

Although this was a year to celebrate, it had been a tough ride. Sure, there were exciting moments and plenty of learning, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that in recent years, predator sightings had become alarmingly frequent. More warning signs had been posted around the town, and people were starting to go missing. It wasn’t a daily occurrence, but it was happening often enough to become a genuine threat.

My parents were especially worried, even for Clarisse, who was living in the capital. The empire had shifted its defense strategy, relying more heavily on mages to secure borders and areas where predators were spotted. This caused some tension among fierce swordsmen who felt sidelined. However, there was a new rising group called the Zero Order—magic swordsmen who wielded both sword and spell with equal skill. Together with mages, they were leading the charge in eliminating predators. And word had spread that one of their members would be celebrating in the capital during the Days of Renewal. Honestly, I didn’t care much—but I had to admit, it wouldn’t be bad to see one of them in person.

“When was the last time we visited the capital?” Mother asked, turning to Father.

“It’s been a long time. I can’t even remember it properly,” he replied.

Given how poor we were for much of my life, I couldn’t blame them. Traveling to the capital wasn’t a casual outing—it required supplies, resources, and days of travel. The trip itself could take two to five days depending on conditions, and staying in the capital came with its own costs. But now, for the first time, I could confidently say we could afford it.

“But this is Vonn’s first time,” Father said, gesturing toward me.

They both looked at me, so I quickly responded. “I’m pretty excited. I can’t deny it.”

“Are you curious about what it looks like?” Father asked.

“Yup,” I replied, grinning, “but don’t spoil it for me, Father. It wouldn’t be as exciting if you told me everything.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Even though I was eager to know what the capital looked like, I held back. It felt better to let the excitement build and experience it for myself than to ruin the surprise with secondhand descriptions.

“He’s right, Vic. Besides, you probably can’t describe it properly anymore—it’s been so long since you’ve seen it yourself,” Mother added with a smile.

“Well… I’m just hoping it’s still as grand as I remember,” Father said, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin.

Because of the cost of traveling to the capital, Clarisse had only been able to send us letters. She hadn’t visited once since she left, thanks to the strict rules of her academy and, of course, the expense of traveling. But I couldn’t help but imagine how much she had grown since the last time I saw her use magic. I didn’t know why, but the thought of seeing her abilities in action again genuinely excited me.

“Here,” my mother said, grabbing my arm to make sure I was looking where she pointed. “Can you see that? That’s where the Dunvaris Kingdom is.”

I squinted, but all I could make out was a faint outline shrouded in fog. It was still so far away. We’d been traveling for an entire day now, stopping for breaks along the way.

“Your mother remembers it too well,” my father said, smiling as he grabbed my other arm playfully.

“Of course I do,” she replied with a grin. “That’s where your father and I first met, you know. He was looking for work and stumbled into me, making me lose my balance. And do you know what he did? He caught me and lifted me like some kind of hero.”

“Gracefully, might I add,” Father chimed in, puffing out his chest with mock pride.

Mother rolled her eyes but was still smiling. “Sure Victor, gracefully. If by gracefully you mean nearly knocking us both over in the process.”

They both laughed, and time seemed to fly as they reminisced about their past together. Before I realized it, we had reached the main gate to the capital.

The gate was guarded by about ten soldiers, and it was clear their presence wasn’t just for show. They carefully checked the identity of everyone entering the city. Proof of identity worked similarly to what I remembered on Earth—like IDs or licenses—but here, it came in the form of an identity scroll.

Victor and Eleanor handed over their scrolls, which contained their names, signatures, and the seal of our town. If you’re wondering how hard it might be to fake, the answer is: nearly impossible. The scrolls were embedded with magic, making forgery futile. Thankfully, children under ten weren’t required to show proof of identity. For mages, though, it was different—they were identified using an aura identifier.

Once we were cleared, we finally entered the capital.

It was everything I had imagined and more. The streets were alive with chatter, tall medieval-style buildings towered overhead, and there were countless food stalls and shops lining the roads.

“Are you staying for all five days?”

“There’s so much food here!”

“Why don’t we check out that stall?”

Everywhere I turned, I heard people talking and shouting. The crowd was a mix of humans, elves, and even some beings with skin tones and features I’d never seen before. Diversity was everywhere. At one point, I even saw a flying cat-like creature with a wide tail that acted like a glider.

“See? Still as grand as ever,” Father said loudly, a grin plastered on his face.

“It’s so crowded. Should we get out the carriage?” Mother asked, looking slightly overwhelmed.

“No, of course not!” Father laughed, pulling her into a quick hug. “We’ll enjoy the sights until we get to the inn.”

The view was incredible. From where we were, I could see the towering castle of Dunvaris in the distance. Its sheer size was awe-inspiring.

“How’s the view, Vonn?” Mother asked, leaning against Father’s shoulder.

“It’s not bad, Mother,” I said honestly. “Though I think I’d enjoy it more from higher up. It’d be great to see the whole city from above.”

“That’s a fantastic idea,” Father said, nodding. “We’re staying on the second floor of the inn. You’ll have a great view from there.”

As he said, we were staying in an inn—or rather, a hotel-like building owned by one of Father’s friends. We’d be there for four nights and five days. It was the perfect chance to explore the capital, visit the library, and fully immerse myself in the Days of Renewal celebrations.

“How about we grab something to eat?” Mother suggested.

“Now that’s more like it!” Father agreed, already steering the cart toward a food stall-lined street.

It took us about thirty minutes to reach the inn, mostly because of the traffic. The crowded streets and carriages ahead of us made for slow progress. Still, I couldn’t complain—it wasn’t nearly as depressing as the traffic I remembered from my previous life.

We were warmly greeted by a short, bearded man named Andres. He hugged Victor tightly, and the two exchanged a few words before Andres gave us a slight bow. I wasn’t sure about the history between him and my father, but he seemed genuinely grateful toward our family.

“This must be your son, right?” he asked, patting my head.

Father nodded, smiling proudly. “Yes, he takes after me, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely, but I’d say he’s a bit more handsome,” Andres chuckled.

I used to care a lot about how I looked in this new life, but over time, I’d gotten used to the compliments. Neighbors often told me I had a “pretty face.” I couldn’t argue—my eyes and facial structure were, admittedly, impressive.

“How’s business, Andres?” Mother asked as he guided us to our room.

“It’s steady—not booming, but I’m not losing out either. Just fine,” Andres replied, unlocking the door.

Creak.

“Here’s where you’ll be staying, Victor,” he said. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to assist you further—I have to leave the capital for a while.”

“You’ve already done so much, Andres. Don’t worry about it,” Father said, patting his shoulder.

Andres smiled. “If you need anything, just let the woman on the first floor know. She’ll handle any questions or requests you have.”

“Thank you, Andres,” Mother said, smiling warmly.

“You’re always welcome,” Andres replied, turning to me with a grin. He patted my head again. “Take care of your family, young man.”

I gave him a respectful bow and a big smile as he left. He was surprisingly kind for one of Father’s friends. His warmth and easygoing nature made a strong impression on me.

“Well, should we grab something to eat?” Mother asked, breaking the moment.

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Who would’ve thought being surrounded by so many people could feel this overwhelming?

Earlier, we’d left the inn to find something to eat before heading to visit Clarisse at her academy. At first, I’d been fine, but now that I was actually walking through the crowded streets, it felt entirely different. It wasn’t like observing from the carriage window. In person, the sheer number of people—and the diversity among them—was staggering.

There were elves with their long ears, dwarves who barely reached my waist, and towering individuals who had to stoop slightly just to fit under some of the market’s arches. Giants, maybe? I wasn’t sure what they were called, but their size was intimidating. The air too was filled with the sharp chill of winter, laced with the rich, tantalizing aromas of food—colder than I had anticipated.

“Hey, Vonn, want me to lift you up?” Father asked, practically shouting over the noise.

“Absolutely not, Father. I’m fine,” I replied, though I was gripping Mother’s hand tightly as we navigated the crowd.

“A little shy, aren’t we?” Father teased.

“Maybe,” I said quickly, brushing off the comment.

We finally reached the food stalls, and Mother began picking out some unique-looking snacks I’d never seen before. One, in particular, caught my attention: Starfish Cake—pancake-like treats shaped like starfish, stuffed with spiced crab meat and creamy seafoam cheese.

She didn’t stop there. She also bought drinks called Icepetal Tea, brewed from frostflower petals and served chilled with crushed snowberries. The vendor claimed that drinking it would leave a cool, refreshing sensation that lingered for hours, as if your breath turned to frost.

Curious, I took a sip of the tea. The initial taste was light, almost floral, but the aftertaste was something else entirely. A wave of cold swept through my mouth, as if I’d swallowed a shard of winter.

“Whoa, think you can handle that cold, Vonn?” Father asked, laughing as he watched my reaction.

“It’s so cold!” I managed to say, my teeth practically chattering.

“Haha! I told you it wasn’t for you,” Mother said, shaking her head with an amused smile.

Time passed as we explored more of the capital, marveling at its sights. Among the many wonders, one stood out—a floating building hovering in the air, defying logic. It was breathtaking, but the more beauty I saw, the more I noticed darker undercurrents.

This was never a hidden issue—it was something they did openly. I’d seen human nobles show their disdain for elves and dwarves without hesitation. Earlier, as we walked, we passed a carriage carrying elves in a cage. I overheard someone saying they were being prepared to perform at the festival tomorrow.

Secondly, cattered throughout the streets were posters plastered on walls, lampposts, and noticeboards. They all showed faces of missing individuals. There were so many—different ages, different races—most of them wore mage robes.

While Victor and Eleanor were busy shopping for more food and admiring the bustling marketplace, I found myself slightly separated from them. My eyes kept returning to those posters. For some reason, the faces felt oddly familiar, like I’d seen them somewhere before.

Passersby couldn’t help but glance at them too, a few even slowing as they passed. Just looking at those posters felt dangerous, like they carried some unseen weight. It was scary, no doubt, but my curiosity outweighed the fear.

“Curious, huh, kid?”

The deep voice startled me. I turned to see a man standing beside me, his face partially hidden beneath a hood. Only his sharp, glinting eyes were visible but the fact that he was tall only made him more intimidating. I also noticed a small emblem on his black hood. I didn’t recognize it, but it was definitely there.

“You’d better stick close to your parents, or you might end up like them,” he said, gesturing to the posters.

It wasn’t just advice—it was a warning.

“Is it the work of predators?” I asked cautiously, trying to sound like an innocent, curious child while gauging his reaction.

His gaze shifted to me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, you know about predators? Did your parents tell you?”

“No, I just overheard people talking about them back home,” I replied, keeping my tone casual.

He took a surprisingly long time to respond, but eventually, he did. “Do you know how dangerous they are, kid?”

I nodded, though I couldn’t quite figure out where this conversation was going.

“Do you know they can disguise themselves as humans, just like us?” he asked.

“I’m quite aware of that, too,” I replied, keeping my tone steady.

“Then what would you do if I were a predator myself?”

Before I could think, I instinctively jumped back, startled by his words. But when I looked at him again, he was laughing—a low, amused chuckle.

“Relax, kid. I’m kidding, predators that disguise themselves as humans don’t breathe. Look at me—I’m clearly breathing. And they don’t cast shadows either, but as you can see, I have one.” he said, nodding slowly as if to reassure me. Then, his expression turned serious again as he pointed to the posters. “This? It’s far worse than just predators.”

There was a weight to his words, a quiet intensity that hinted at something much larger. I wasn’t sure whether I should keep the conversation going, but his calm demeanor, paired with the mystery surrounding him, made it hard to look away.

“You’d do well to stay away from magic, kid,” he said. His voice dropped slightly, his tone chilling.

I glanced back at the posters, trying to piece together his cryptic warning, but when I turned back to where he had been standing, he was gone.

“Vonn!”

Victor’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. He ran toward me, his expression a mix of relief and frustration.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t see you wander off,” he said, pulling me close. “Don’t go so far from us again, alright? You’ll get lost in this crowd.”

I nodded absentmindedly, but my mind was elsewhere. The hooded man’s words echoed in my head, and the more I thought about it, the more I felt certain—he knew something about those missing people.