As Artreus and Guinevere wandered through the streets of Eldoria, their stomachs grumbled loudly in protest.

Artreus let out a dramatic groan, clutching his stomach as if he were on the brink of death.

"Man… I'm so hungry."

His eyes scanned the streets, searching desperately for any sign of food stalls or restaurants.

"How are we supposed to find a restaurant now?! We ran away from the last one!"

Guinevere sighed, adjusting her cloak to hide her ears.

"Yeah, but we can't give up. We have to keep looking."

She exhaled, glancing around.

"Just hang in there, okay?"

Artreus groaned again—this time more dramatically.

"I can feel it… I'm going to die of starvation…"

He stumbled forward exaggeratedly, as if his legs had lost their strength.

"Tell… my Master Samson… I fought bravely…"

Guinevere raised an eyebrow.

"Oh no, how tragic. You're starving to death like a little baby."

Artreus grumbled.

"Tch. I'm not a baby."

Then—

A gentle voice called out from behind them.

"Why, hello again, dears."

Both Artreus and Guinevere turned around.

Standing there—a familiar face.

The old woman from the clothing shop.

Artreus's eyes widened.

"Ha! It's the old lady from the clothing shop!"

Guinevere immediately elbowed him in the ribs.

"Artreus! Be nice!" she hissed.

Artreus grumbled, rubbing his side.

"Ow, fine, fine."

Guinevere turned to the woman, offering a polite smile.

"Oh, it's you, ma'am. I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

The old seller chuckled.

"Well, I was just heading home from my shop. My granddaughter is waiting for me at home."

Then, she tilted her head slightly, her kind eyes twinkling.

"Sorry for eavesdropping, but I couldn't help but overhear… you dears sound awfully hungry."

Artreus nodded furiously.

"YES. Starving. Dying, even."

The woman let out a soft laugh.

"Well, if that's the case… how about I invite you both for dinner at my home?"

Guinevere's eyes widened slightly.

"Are you sure? We wouldn't want to trouble you—"

The old seller waved a hand dismissively.

"Oh, nonsense, dear. It would be my pleasure. Besides, my granddaughter would love some company."

She smiled warmly.

"Come now, let's get you two fed before this young man truly collapses in the street."

Artreus grinned.

"You're a lifesaver, old lady!"

Guinevere sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Artreus…"

But the old woman only chuckled.

"He's quite the spirited one, isn't he?"

Guinevere shook her head, smiling slightly.

"You have no idea."

And with that, the three of them set off, heading toward the old woman's home for a warm meal.

As Artreus and Guinevere arrived at the old woman's home, the cozy little cottage radiated warmth. The scent of herbs and fabric filled the air, and the faint crackle of a fireplace added a homely touch.

The door opened, and a young woman, around eighteen years old, stepped forward to greet them.

She had long chestnut-brown hair, neatly tied into a braid, and wore round glasses that framed her soft features. She was dressed in a simple yet elegant dress, slightly dusted with bits of fabric and thread.

Her curious brown eyes examined them as she adjusted her glasses.

"Grandma… welcome back. And… who are these people with you?" she asked politely.

The old seller smiled warmly.

"These are our guests, sweetie. They visited our shop today and even bought the clothes you made."

She then turned to Artreus and Guinevere, chuckling.

"Oh dear, I just realized… I forgot to get your names. How silly of me."

Guinevere smiled and stepped forward.

"It's quite alright, ma'am. Allow me to introduce myself—my name is Guinevere."

Artreus crossed his arms, giving a simple nod.

"I'm Artreus."

The young woman adjusted her glasses slightly, her expression thoughtful.

"I see… Well, it's nice to meet you. My name is Sophia Prada."

The old woman chuckled.

"And I am Emma Prada."

Sophia looked Guinevere up and down, her eyes lighting up.

"Ah! That's the traveler's outfit I made! It fits you perfectly!"

Guinevere beamed at the compliment.

"Aw, thank you! You did an amazing job! It's beautiful and comfortable!"

Sophia blushed slightly, looking away as she fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve.

"W-Well… I did make it with heart, soul, and passion, after all…"

Guinevere grinned.

"Wow, that's really admirable!"

Sophia glanced away, still flustered.

Emma chuckled at her granddaughter's reaction, then clapped her hands together.

"Alright, alright. Enough chatting for now! I should start cooking dinner."

She turned to Sophia.

"Sweetie, entertain our guests while I'm in the kitchen, will you?"

Sophia nodded quickly.

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"Of course, Grandma."

Inside the Dressmaker's Home

As they stepped deeper inside, Artreus and Guinevere looked around.

The house was filled with fabrics, unfinished dresses, and sewing tools.

Several clothing stands held beautiful garments in various stages of completion, and rolls of fabric were stacked against the walls.

The table was scattered with spools of thread, sewing needles, and embroidery tools.

And on the floor—bits of cloth and fabric scraps lay in small piles, as if someone had been working all day.

Sophia sighed and scratched her cheek.

"Ahaha… Sorry for the mess." she said, motioning for them to sit.

"As you can see, Grandma and I have been making clothes our entire lives."

She folded her hands together.

"Our family has been dressmakers for generations. Grandma has been running the clothing shop in Eldoria for over thirty years."

Her voice held a hint of pride as she smiled.

"People in town admire her work. She creates some of the finest garments in Eldoria."

Guinevere's eyes sparkled with interest.

"That's incredible! Such dedication and craftsmanship… it truly shows."

Sophia blushed slightly at the praise, adjusting her glasses.

"Ah—w-well, I'm still learning, but thank you."

Artreus, meanwhile, leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed.

"So you sew clothes all day? That doesn't sound very exciting."

Sophia gave him a deadpan look.

"And what exactly do you do all day?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Artreus smirked.

"I train, fight, and beat up bad guys."

Sophia sighed.

"How barbaric."

"How boring." Artreus shot back.

Sophia rolled her eyes, and Guinevere giggled softly.

"Don't mind him," she said. "He's just grumpy because he hasn't eaten yet."

Right on cue—

Artreus's stomach growled.

Sophia tried to hold back a laugh.

"Well, if you're so tough, maybe try not starving to death."

"Tch… Hurry up, old lady!" Artreus called toward the kitchen.

"Artreus!!" Guinevere scolded, slapping his arm.

"What?!"

From the kitchen, Emma's amused voice called back.

"I heard that, young man! No stew for you if you don't behave!"

Artreus's eyes widened.

"W-Wait! I take it back!!"

Sophia and Guinevere laughed at his panic.

The warm aroma of freshly cooked stew, roasted vegetables, and grilled meat filled the small home, creating a cozy atmosphere.

A large bowl of stew, freshly baked bread, and a plate of grilled meat sat at the center of the wooden table.

As soon as Emma Prada set the plates down—

Artreus attacked the food like a wild animal.

His spoon clanked rapidly against the bowl, and he shoveled mouthful after mouthful of stew into his mouth, barely stopping to breathe.

"Mmm! So good! This is amazing!" he said, his words muffled through bites of meat and bread.

Sophia and Guinevere stared at him, stunned.

Guinevere let out a long sigh, shaking her head.

"Slow down, Art. You're going to choke."

Artreus ignored her, stuffing another piece of meat into his mouth.

Guinevere sighed again, giving Emma an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry about him. He hasn't eaten properly in a while."

Emma chuckled softly, watching Artreus with amusement.

"Oh, it's alright, dear. It's normal for a young boy. Let him eat as much as he wants."

Artreus paused mid-bite, looking at Emma with wide, grateful eyes.

"Oh, thank you, ma'am!" he said before immediately devouring more food.

Sophia raised an eyebrow, watching as Artreus annihilated his meal.

"Does he always eat like this?" she asked Guinevere.

Guinevere sighed again.

"Only when he's really hungry."

Sophia pushed her glasses up, observing Artreus as if he were a strange, rare creature.

"He eats like he just escaped from a prison camp."

Guinevere stifled a laugh.

"That's actually… not far from the truth."

Sophia's eyes widened slightly.

"Wait, what?!"

Artreus, still chewing, mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"We got chased out of a tavern, so we couldn't eat."

Sophia blinked in shock.

"You got what?!"

Guinevere waved a hand dismissively.

"Long story. Let's just say… Artreus has trouble controlling his fists."

Sophia narrowed her eyes at Artreus.

"I knew it. Barbaric little street fighter."

Artreus swallowed his food, grinning.

"And proud of it! A warrior's gotta fight!"

Sophia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Grandma, why did you bring in a feral child?"

Artreus glared.

"Who are you calling a feral child?!"

Emma simply smiled warmly.

"Because, sweetie, he looked hungry."

Sophia gave Guinevere a deadpan look.

"You have your hands full with this one, huh?"

Guinevere laughed.

"You have no idea."

Meanwhile, Artreus ignored them all, too focused on stuffing another piece of bread into his mouth.

After a while, Sophia finished eating and adjusted her glasses.

"Alright, Grandma. I need to get back to work."

She stood up, gathering her sewing tools.

"The town's mayor has an appointment tomorrow—he wants me to make a fine suit for him."

She turned to Artreus and Guinevere.

"Sorry, guys, I wish I could talk more, but I have a lot of work to do."

Emma nodded in understanding.

"Alright, dear."

As Sophia left, Emma turned back to them, her expression gentle but thoughtful.

"My granddaughter is a talented and hardworking girl," she said softly.

Her old eyes shimmered with pride.

"She has made so many beautiful clothes for the people of this town. Everyone adores her work."

But then, her expression turned distant—a soft melancholy in her eyes.

"After her parents died, she was just a little girl—maybe the same age as you, Artreus."

Artreus paused, looking up from his meal.

Emma continued.

"She was devastated. But she kept moving forward."

Her voice softened.

"She began making beautiful dresses because of a promise she kept."

Guinevere tilted her head.

"A promise?"

Emma nodded.

"It was always her dream to have her dressmaking known to the world. To travel."

Her lips pressed into a sad smile.

"That was her mother's dream too. But…"

Her smile faded slightly.

"I told her to go travel. But she's too stubborn."

She shook her head.

"She refuses to leave because of me."

Guinevere's expression softened.

"She doesn't want to leave you alone."

Emma nodded.

"That's right. I know she has bigger dreams, but she won't chase them because she feels responsible for me."

She exhaled, shaking her head.

"But the world is dangerous these days. I understand why she's afraid to leave. Still… I just want her to be happy."

There was a moment of quiet.

Artreus lowered his spoon, thinking.

For all his teasing, he understood that feeling.

Guinevere glanced at Artreus, seeing the way his expression had changed slightly.

Then, she turned back to Emma, smiling gently.

"Maybe… one day, she'll be able to do both. To chase her dream and still be by your side. God knows for sure, she'll be able to achieve it."

Emma's eyes softened.

"Perhaps… I truly hope so, dear."

She smiled warmly, looking toward the hallway where Sophia had gone back to work.

But outside, beyond the cozy home…

Something was stirring in the dark.

Artreus and Guinevere stepped out of the Prada household, the cool night breeze brushing against them. The warm glow of lanterns flickered through the quiet streets of Eldoria.

From the doorway, Emma Prada watched them with a kind smile.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay here? We have extra rooms for you to rest."

Guinevere turned to her, offering a grateful smile.

"Well… we already paid for a room at the inn. It would be wrong not to use it."

Emma nodded in understanding.

"I see… Well, I hope we meet again, Guinevere and Artreus. I wish you both safe travels."

Guinevere smiled warmly and bowed her head slightly.

"Thank you for everything, ma'am. For the food, the kindness… and for making us feel at home."

Artreus, still not the best at formal goodbyes, scratched his head awkwardly.

"Uh… yeah. Thanks."

Emma chuckled softly.

"Take care, dears. And if you ever come back to Eldoria… you're always welcome here."

The two waved their goodbyes, walking down the street into the quiet night.

Emma watched them until they disappeared into the distance.

A faint smile lingered on her lips.

"May the gods guide you both."

As they walked through the dimly lit streets, the distant chatter of late-night merchants and tavern-goers filled the air.

Artreus stretched his arms, letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Boy, I'm stuffed. I haven't had a homemade meal like that in a while."

He patted his stomach, grinning.

"Thanks to them, I've got my strength back. Now I'm ready to protect you all the way!"

Guinevere chuckled softly.

"That's good to hear, Art."

She glanced up at the sky, her expression distant.

Artreus noticed.

His blue eyes flicked toward her, curiosity sparking.

"Hey… what's wrong?"

Guinevere exhaled, shifting her gaze ahead.

"Oh… nothing. It's just…"

She hesitated for a moment before speaking again.

"Sophia lost her parents at a young age. And yet, she still kept moving forward."

She touched the fabric of her traveler's cloak, a solemn look in her purple eyes.

"She took that pain and turned it into passion—her dream."

Artreus crossed his arms, nodding.

"Yeah… she's tough."

Guinevere's expression softened.

"When I return home… I want to do something for them."

Artreus raised an eyebrow.

"Really? How?"

Guinevere turned to him, her purple eyes shimmering with determination.

"I'm a princess, Artreus. I'll do anything in my power to help her achieve her dream."

Artreus was quiet for a moment.

Then—he grinned.

"Hah. That's a big goal. But knowing you, you'll pull it off."

Guinevere smiled.

"I have to. It's the least I can do."

Artreus looked at Guinevere and smiled, admiring the determination in her eyes. But just as he was about to speak, a chill crawled up his spine. His instincts screamed at him—something was coming.

He turned sharply.

From the darkened alley to their right, a man stumbled out, barely able to crawl, his body soaked in blood. His trembling hand reached out toward them.

"Help… me. Help…!" he gasped, his voice weak, drowning in pain.

Guinevere tensed, stepping forward, but Artreus didn't move. His gaze was locked behind the man—into the darkness, where something stirred.

A deep, guttural growl.

Then, red eyes flickered from the abyss.

From the shadows, a hellhound emerged, its massive frame slinking into the dim light, its black fur shifting like smoke. Its jaws, lined with jagged fangs, dripped with crimson.

The man shrieked, trying to claw away, but the beast lunged, clamping its powerful jaws onto his leg.

The sickening crunch of bone.

The helpless man was yanked back, dragged screaming into the darkness. His cries turned to choked gurgles as the hellhound's claws raked across his chest. Flesh tore. Blood sprayed.

And then—silence.

The beast hunched over its kill, sinking its teeth into the limp arm, tearing it clean off before devouring it in ravenous bites.

Artreus froze.

For a moment, he wasn't standing in Eldoria.

He was back in Ozamian.

The sky burned. Screams filled the air. Shadows twisted between the fire, monstrous figures moving through the inferno. His mother's voice, calling his name. And then—a hand reaching for him, before the flames swallowed everything.

His vision pulsed red.

His heart pounded in his ears, drowning out everything but rage.

His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.

"A… hellhound…" Guinevere breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned to Artreus, but the moment she saw his expression—she knew.

His entire body radiated fury.

Without a word, Artreus charged.

The hellhound lifted its bloodied muzzle, its glowing eyes narrowing. With a deafening roar, it lunged to meet him, fangs bared.

Their clash sent sparks flying.

Sword and claws collided, steel against bone. Artreus twisted, dodging a swipe and rebounding off the wall with inhuman speed. His blade carved through the air—slicing through the hellhound's arm.

The beast howled in agony, its severed limb hitting the ground with a wet thud.

But Artreus didn't stop.

His black sword gleamed under the moonlight as he struck again—cutting the hellhound clean in half.

Its body collapsed in a bloodied heap.

Artreus stood victorious, his breath heavy, his rage still simmering beneath his skin.

And then—movement.

From the shadows, more eyes opened.

A dozen. No… more.

Low growls filled the air as hellhounds slinked from the darkness, their monstrous forms appearing one after another, their hunger palpable.

The town was under attack.

Then, the bell tower rang.

BOOOOOONG.

BOOOOOONG.

The eerie chime echoed through Eldoria, a warning cry to all who could hear it.

Artreus tightened his grip on his sword.

This wasn't over.