Chapter 31: The Path Begins to Shift

  “So that’s what happened.”

  Elucia spoke calmly, then rose from one knee and took her seat.

  The room was filled with countless varieties of flowers, their sweet fragrance lingering thick in the air.

  Despite having eight members present, each dressed in black uniforms, the atmosphere remained quiet and restrained.

  There was no table. Eight chairs were arranged in a circle, one of them raised slightly higher than the others.

  “So you are saying a beast tamer possessed the power to control nature?”

  The old man seated in the higher chair asked, stroking his long white beard.

  Elucia nodded.

  “That is very strange,” said a man with brown hair and gentle green eyes. Despite his calm appearance, his body was solid and imposing, like a mountain.

  “Such a thing has never happened before.”

  “Indeed,” agreed the man beside him, whose left eye and part of his face were hidden behind a mask.

  A golden-brown–haired man sitting opposite suddenly jumped to his feet.

  “I told you I should go! That sounds interesting!!”

  “Please calm down,” hissed a long orange-haired girl sitting beside him, a thin braid resting against her temple.

  Across from them, a man with bright red hair scoffed and crossed his legs.

  “What’s worth making such a fuss over? Unknown power or not, they’re just leaves and branches. I could burn them all in a blink.”

  “Pride bloats the soul,” the masked man snapped.

  “Feed it once more, and it will tear you open.”

  The red-haired man smirked. “Don’t worry. I’m very elastic.”

  The orange-haired girl sighed deeply.

  “We are in a meeting. Could you both please stop?”

  They looked away in opposite directions.

  “I see you people aren’t particularly close,” the old man said softly.

  “But at least try to be attentive during meetings.”

  “Got it, sir,” they replied in unison.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The old man closed his eyes, stroking his beard as he spoke again.

  “It is true that no one manifests new abilities beyond the spirit they wield. If she truly was a beast tamer, then such power should not have been possible.”

  The room fell silent as everyone lowered their gaze, thinking.

  “Alright,” the old man said at last.

  “I appoint Ghalon to investigate this matter.”

  A deep blue–haired man who had been half-asleep until now flinched. He opened his eyes and immediately knelt on one knee before him.

  “Yes, sir.”

  _ _ _

  Later, in the old man’s office—

  Knock, knock.

  “Come in.”

  The golden-haired man entered, carrying a potted plant. A green flower shimmered faintly atop its stem.

  “Sir,” he said cheerfully, “I acquired this rare flower, Green Norva, while returning from a mission. I thought it would suit your taste.”

  The old man accepted it with a thoughtful nod.

  “So,” he said calmly, “what do you want this time?”

  “You know me well, sir,” the man replied with a serene smile.

  “Just a week off.”

  The old man sighed. “And why exactly do you need that long?”

  The man coughed into his fist. “Sorry, sir. I can’t say. It’s a secret.”

  Shaking his head, the old man muttered,

  “Whatever it is, just don’t do anything unnecessary like you did in the past.”

  “Yes, sir,” the man said, bowing before leaving—nearly hopping with joy.

  “This brat always strikes at my weakness,” the old man muttered.

  Noticing dirt on the pot, he brushed it away with his sleeve and placed the flower beside him, smiling in bliss.

  _ _ _

  Stare…

  Ryl and his bird, Bolt, stared at each other without blinking.

  Aspen, watching the silent battle, sighed and Flick sat on his head joining him.

  After the chaotic evening, Aspen and Ryl had stayed at an inn. Aspen was now preparing for his overseas journey.

  “I told you to adjust just for today,” Ryl said firmly, folding his arms.

  Bolt huffed, turning away. “I won’t.”

  “You have to!”

  “I said I won’t.”

  “Look!” Ryl said, grabbing a handful.

  “They look delicious!”

  Bolt kicked the basket away.

  “Have you ever heard of an eagle eating BEANS?!”

  Ryl sputtered, offended.

  “W-why don’t you set an example? You’ll be a strong, healthy bean-eating eagle! You’ll prove the whole world wrong!”

  “The world isn’t wrong,” Bolt snapped.

  “Your brain is!”

  “You—!”

  “Ryl,” Aspen interrupted, already exhausted.

  “Why don’t we buy some sausage for him?”

  “But—!”

  “And didn’t you say you wanted to sharpen your dagger?”

  Ryl paused, thought for a moment, then nodded.

  “Then let’s go,” Aspen said, dragging him away.

  As they left, Bolt shouted after them,

  “Don’t be late!”

  Ryl shot it a glare over his shoulder.

  _ _ _

  Aspen and Ryl wandered through the market square before stopping at a blacksmith’s shop.

  The faint sound of metal clanging echoed as they stepped inside. The air was hot, thick with the smell of molten iron. Scraps of metal littered the floor.

  A man with messy hair and an unkempt beard was hammering away at a weapon.

  “Excuse me?” Aspen called.

  The blacksmith paused mid-strike and looked up.

  “We came to sharpen our daggers,” Aspen said, handing them over.

  “Come back tomorrow,” the man replied, already turning away.

  “Ah—one more thing,” Aspen said quickly.

  The blacksmith stopped.

  Aspen took out his father’s broken dagger.

  “Is it possible to reforge this?”

  The man examined it closely, then shook his head.

  “No. It’s too old and worn. Even if reforged, it’ll break again.”

  Aspen’s shoulders slumped.

  “I understand. We’ll come back tomorrow.”

  They left quietly.

  After buying sausages, they stopped by a bridge. The cold breeze swayed their hair as water flowed beneath them.

  “Aspen,” Ryl said softly, sadness creeping into his voice.

  “Think about it again. I don’t want you to go.”

  Aspen smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

  “There’s no need to go that far!” Ryl snapped.

  “You could take other quests!”

  “I can’t,” Aspen said, looking at the river.

  “It’s already stamped. And… it’s a chance to grow.”

  “Grow?” Ryl hissed.

  “What if you die?!”

  Aspen turned to him.

  “I’ll be fine. And if you keep worrying like this, you’ll turn into Grandpa Ryl.”

  “G-grandpa?!” Ryl yelped.

  “Do whatever you want! I don’t care even if you don’t come back!”

  He turned away, muttering,

  “Just… don’t die.”

  Aspen chuckled. “You sound like a kid.”

  “I’m not!”

  “Alright,” Aspen smiled.

  “Let’s go back. Bolt’s waiting.”

  Halfway back, they noticed Ellie pressed against a wall, peeking around the corner.

  Aspen approached and tapped her shoulder.

  She reacted instantly—flipping him over her shoulder.

  Ryl flinched beside.

  “Agh—!” Aspen groaned as he hit the ground.

  “A-aspen?!” Ellie gasped.

  “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you!”

  She and Ryl helped him up.

  “But why are you acting sneaky?” Aspen asked.

  “Isn’t she always?” Ryl muttered.

  Ellie shot him a glare.

  “It’s nothing,” she said quickly.

  “Just…”

  She peeked again and pointed.

  A black-cloaked figure moved through the crowd—like smoke slipping between people.

  *****

  Chapter 33: The Journey