Silence wrapped around Breeze and his father as the shadows summoned by the oil lamp danced on the walls. Finally, Breeze’s father began, his voice low and steady, “The world outside these walls, as far as I know, is a deadly place. But it’s also rich with treasures and power beyond what we’re allowed to see. Those in control—the rulers—restrict access, allowing only members of the Monster Extermination Society (MES) in and out of the bastions. But there are always some traffickers who risk their lives for profit. That’s how we’ve always traveled from bastion to bastion. They fear what could happen if the common people learned the truth. Let me explain.”

He leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with secrets. “Monster meat holds the key. It’s a catalyst, you see—a way to make the human body stronger with every bite. But it’s far from simple. This meat is only consumable with the help of rare individuals called ‘Herbalists.’ They’re gifted, born immune to the toxic properties of wild herbs, and capable of analyzing the potential of any herb they consume. They hold the secret to preparing the meat to strengthen the body instead of destroying it. Consuming meat without a Herbalist is a huge gamble: a 50% chance of death, and the other 50% isn’t any better, as you must endure immense and horrible pain, with the side effect of being paralyzed for a few days at best. You might find two or three Herbalists in each high-ranking society, but for the lower ones, there’s barely one. That’s what we know, and personally, I think there’s a lot more we don’t know about. The world is so vast outside these walls; there are probably many other secrets no one has discovered yet.”

Breeze’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “So… why don’t we hunt some monsters and take the meat to a Herbalist?”

His father chuckled softly. “Do you want your old man to get himself killed? Herbalists are national treasures, controlled by the rulers and bound to their lineage. If a Herbalist were found outside their grasp, they’d be taken forcibly—transformed into another tool of power. And most don’t even know they’re Herbalists until they encounter wild herbs. While any ordinary person feels their life drain away from just a sniff of those toxins, a Herbalist senses nothing. That’s how they’re identified, and from then on, their life isn’t their own. If we tried to hunt monsters and bring the meat to a Herbalist, we wouldn’t just be risking our lives. We’d be signing our death warrants. Torture would only be the beginning.”

Breeze shuddered, the flickering shadows of the oil lamp casting eerie shapes around the stable—or perhaps it was just his imagination. “But I don’t understand, Father. If monster meat is toxic, then how are people here able to eat meat? These animals, aren’t they monsters too, with their gigantic size and strength?”

His father smiled, nodding. “Good eye, Breeze. The Herbalists prepare feed for these animals, neutralizing the toxins through a blend of herbs. Once the butchers slaughter the livestock, they check the meat to ensure it’s fit for consumption. So, what you see here is only a faint—or nearly nonexistent—echo of the power monster meat can offer.”

“Then… why don’t we join them?” Breeze asked quietly. “It’s better than this life—this constant struggle.”

His father’s expression turned solemn. “They only allow young girls into their ranks, and they never marry off their daughters to the common folks. For men, it’s impossible to rise in their society unless he is a docile Herbalist. If someone joins as a servant… it’s morally corrupting, degrading work. You’re young, but one day you’ll understand the darkness behind their wealth and power.”

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Silence settled between them as Breeze’s father ran a hand through his son’s hair. Pulling him close, he murmured, “I’m sorry, my boy. I wish I could offer you more. But I chose this life for us—not out of an incapability of being rich, but out of fear for your soul. I was afraid that power and money would corrupt your heart and mind. However, that doesn’t mean gaining power and money is a bad thing. It’s just that those who endure hardship grow stronger, like a sword—the more it’s forged, the sharper it becomes. The people under the rulers’ thumb are just as tainted as the rulers themselves. The poor are all that’s left of honesty in this world. This kind of life will teach you not to trust anyone so easily and to rely on yourself more.”

Confused, Breeze replied softly, “I’ll do my best, Father.”

“I’m sure you will, son.” His father’s voice held a hint of pride. “Now, let me tell you about your great-grandfather. He was a bold man, venturing outside the bastions more often than anyone else I’ve known. The world, he found, is vast—beyond imagination. Humans occupy less than 2% of it, which might be shrinking. He couldn’t even explore it all; monsters far larger than the walls of Harrison Castle, the ruling family of this bastion, roam out there, with power that’s hard to fathom.”

Breeze’s father glanced at him with an intense gaze. “There are six ranks of monsters: Wild, Feral, Dread, Horror, Terror, and Nightmare. Each rank comes in three types: Beast, Monster, or Unknown. A Feral Beast, for example, is dangerous, driven by raw instinct alone. A Feral Monster? Cunning and unpredictable. But an Unknown Feral—well, it’s intelligent, with the ability to speak, and its strength outranks the Dread Monsters. That’s why we mention its type before its rank, unlike the others. If you don’t defeat it in the first encounter, it’ll be ready for you next time, and each round becomes harder. The common folk call them either ‘monsters’ or ‘animals,’ but to those with knowledge, each creature has its own place.”

Breeze nodded slowly. “I understand, Father. I’m just a kid, though—I won’t be facing those horrors any time soon.”

“No, not yet. But you have to be ready for any unexpected event. Just remember what I’ve told you. The more you learn, the better prepared you’ll be. Gather every piece of knowledge you can; it will help you on your mission and will be your best shield.”

Breeze looked puzzled. “My mission? What mission?”

His father’s gaze softened. “One day, when I’m gone, you’ll understand. Here.” He reached into a bag and withdrew a thick book. “This book holds the knowledge your ancestors left us. It’s our inheritance. I’ll teach you everything while I’m alive. But the day I die… that’s when you’ll need to finish filling two chapters of it. This knowledge must live on until that day.”

Breeze studied the book in awe. “What day? And when will it come?”

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that the faster you finish your mission, the faster it will come. That’s what my father told me when I asked him the same question.”

His father chuckled softly. “My father told me the exact same words I’m telling you now. Time flies so quickly, Breeze. Remember that. Soon, you’ll be telling your son the same thing.”

With a blush, Breeze said, “But I want a daughter.”

“It’s a really harsh—or even impossible—world for a daughter, but if you guide her well, she’ll probably do fine,” he smirked, then added, “Before getting a son or a daughter, you have to find a strong and healthy wife with a warm heart.”

“It’s easy to find a strong and healthy wife, but how could I know that she has a warm heart?”

“That… that will be a lesson for another day. Now, let’s sleep.”

Later, Breeze turned his eyes to Samar with a smile. “So, what do you think? Is it worth it? Keep in mind that I didn’t tell you everything; it’s just a general idea, the same lesson my father taught me that night. As for why it took the meat I ate a year to take effect, I don’t know.”

Samar arched an eyebrow, giving him a thoughtful look. “Hmmm… So, I’m the strong and healthy wife you were searching for.”

With a face as red as a tomato, Breeze, paralyzed and unable to move a hand to cover his face, could only close his eyes.