Kiehulan was but a small corner in the northeast of this vast medieval continent.

  It was late autumn. The tall maple trees lining the streets were dyed an intoxicating deep red. A gentle breeze caressed the bustling crowd; autumn afternoons here always exuded a peaceful, cozy atmosphere.

  However, this tranquility was being shattered by the rumbling of wheels.

  On the stone-paved street dotted with fallen leaves, a sturdy four-wheeled carriage was slowly making its way. On the driver's seat sat a boy with dazzling, sun-bright blonde hair—Lune. Bored, he played with the ends of the reins, his gaze stealing occasional glances at the white-haired middle-aged man driving the carriage beside him.

  That man, Chris, had his white hair casually wrapped in a bandana, leaving only a single long braid resting on his sturdy back. Right now, he was muttering something under his breath—heaven knows if he was cursing or just complaining. Either way, it made Lune feel a surge of annoyance.

  "...That's exactly why I'm telling you, we've always been traveling!"

  Chris suddenly whipped his head around, his braid drawing a sharp arc in the air. The glare he shot Lune was so ferocious, you'd think Lune had forced him on this baffling journey at knifepoint.

  "Hey, hey—Uncle Chris~ Are we going to pass through Tarnel next, then?"

  Lune rolled his eyes internally. Although this uncle had kindly taken him in when he was lost, his personality was like that of a nagging freak with OCD, and his temper was explosively bad!

  "I need to find my dad! I clearly remember... Dad took me to Tarnel to see a glowing stone packed with super strong energy, and then we got separated in the blink of an eye." Lune sighed, shrugging with a look of absolute world-weariness.

  Tarnel was the capital of the Verbonia Empire, located right in the center of the continent—hundreds of kilometers away from Kiehulan in the northeast! Lune's memories right now were like a pile of shredded paper; he had zero clue why he had teleported to Kiehulan. Just yesterday, he was with his dad in the imperial capital hundreds of kilometers away!

  "Hah... Shumanton, quit playing dumb! You think this little trick is funny? You really never learn, do you!"

  Chris clicked his tongue in irritation, slammed the reins heavily against the saddle, and aggressively leaned closer to Lune.

  There it was again. Shumanton.

  Lune's ears were practically growing calluses from hearing that name. He genuinely believed Uncle Chris had a screw loose, which was why he kept associating him with that monster of a man.

  "You've been a smooth-talking bastard since the old days! I am absolutely not falling for your crap again! Natsuhyan Shumanton!"

  Chris grabbed Lune by the collar, roughly hauling his entire body into the air. The older man's sharp gaze was like a drawn blade, as if they shared some deep-seated, irreconcilable hatred.

  "Waaah! Wait! Uncle Chris, I'm sorry, okay? I apologize!"

  Showered in Chris's spittle-flying threats, Lune desperately turned his head away, his squeezed-shut eyes only daring to peek through a tiny slit.

  "Ahhh! But I really am just Lune! How could I possibly be that Shumanton guy!"

  Suspended in mid-air, Lune's legs could only kick wildly, but the grip of Chris's vein-bulging arm only grew tighter.

  "Uncle, you've definitely got the wrong person! Mr. Silvan! Mr. Silvan, save me! Ugh..."

  Amidst the helpless struggle, Lune could only pin his last hopes on the other man inside the carriage cabin—Silvan.

  That man wore an incredibly plain mask over his face. Rather than deliberately hiding his identity, it looked more like a way to conceal some irreversible physical defect. Right now, he was completely engrossed in tuning some unknown, precision machinery using alchemy.

  To Lune's tragic wails, Silvan seemed to have switched to mute mode, turning a completely deaf ear.

  Speaking of which, Chris and Silvan seemed to be old acquaintances.

  Just a day ago, a lost Lune had bumped into them in a tavern. The situation then had been an absolute mess—a sudden, violent earthquake had caused a massive vein of rock to rupture the surface. The tavern floor was littered with shattered window glass, cracked wooden floorboards, and scattered teaspoons. Lune had scrambled frantically through the chaos, nearly scared out of his wits.

  That was when he got separated from his dad. At least, that's what his memory told him.

  Back then, Chris had grabbed the panicked Lune, insisting he was "the bastard mage Shumanton who turned into a brat to dodge work," and had even tried to forcibly abduct him.

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  Amidst Lune's shrill cries, it was the masked Silvan who stepped forward to calm him down. Silvan's movements were gentle and mild, carrying a reassuring sense of steadiness—even though Lune only learned later that this gentle gentleman was actually a mute who couldn't speak.

  Through his "Alchemy Screen," Silvan used text to tell Lune that he was Shumanton's exclusive bodyguard. Chris, on the other hand, claimed to be Shumanton's sworn enemy—though Silvan insisted Chris was also one of the bodyguards. The relationship was an absolute tangled mess, and Lune couldn't make heads or tails of these adults' grudges.

  Silvan's text also mentioned that their master, Shumanton, was currently wanted by the Empire. Pursuers could strike at any moment, and their mission was to protect Shumanton from capture. But whenever Lune asked, "Where exactly is this Shumanton?", Chris would make a disgusted, furious face, and Silvan would fall into silence, refusing to update his alchemy screen.

  In short, Lune's memory broke off the moment he got lost. With no other options, he could only tentatively tag along with these two weirdos.

  (Please, I just hope Uncle Chris and Mr. Silvan aren't dangerous bad guys...) Lune prayed inwardly.

  "Shut up! Hurry up and change back!"

  Chris started shaking Lune violently again, and the poor boy let out a squeal like a slaughtered pig.

  "Oh, spare me! I really am just Lune! What is wrong with your head, Uncle? Dammit, let me go! Ahhh! Help—!"

  Lune couldn't wrap his head around it. Why was Chris so absolutely certain he was "Natsuhyan Shumanton"? The guy's brain had to be waterlogged!

  But... there were some blood-curdling suspicious points that Lune couldn't ignore.

  Silvan and Chris—the vibe these two gave off was as if they had known him for a very long time. Not only did Silvan know his exact height and weight, he even remembered his favorite foods with crystal clarity! It was way too creepy.

  In Lune's mind, he was just a normal teenager traveling to Tarnel with his dad!

  Moreover... the most crucial point of all—"Natsuhyan Shumanton." Wasn't that the name of the... "War God" created in the past by his motherland, the Verbonia Empire?!

  (N-No, no way... How is that possible?)

  Lune fell into a chaotic struggle. Just then, a strange noise abruptly rang in his ears, as if someone were whispering from the deepest recesses of his mind.

  (Dammit... my head hurts... What the heck are these voices?)

  Wait, speaking of which, who... exactly was his father? Why, in this very moment, could he not remember his father's name at all...?

  Seeing Lune pale and clutching his ears in agony, Chris showed an expression of extreme disgust. He clicked his tongue helplessly and tossed Lune back into the driver's seat like a sack of potatoes, immediately turning his back to him.

  Once the ringing in his ears gradually subsided, Lune let out a long sigh and caught a red maple leaf fluttering in the wind.

  "Hey... Uncle Chris. So where exactly are we heading now?" Lune rested his chin on one hand, catching the distant horizon in the corner of his eye.

  (The trip to Tarnel with Dad... and that glowing stone... Could it be that all these memories are just my delusions?)

  "We're not planning to go anywhere. We're just on the run, that's all!" Chris's deep voice drifted over in the wind. "But you don't need to worry about that, kid. The Empire's lapdogs won't find us that easily!"

  "Didn't Silvan say you guys were fleeing? Fleeing should still have a clear route, Uncle Chris..."

  Before Lune could finish his sentence, his gaze suddenly locked dead onto the heavy stratocumulus clouds in the distance.

  In the deepest shadows of the cloud layer, a tiny black speck tore through the sea of clouds like a blade. Accompanied by increasingly violent gales, the speck was hurtling straight toward them at terrifying speed!

  A massive shadow engulfed the entire street in the blink of an eye, and the blood instantly drained from Lune's small face.

  "O-Oh my god! What the hell is that?! An aircraft?! Isn't that size way too ridiculous!" Lune pointed at the sky, letting out a voice-cracking shriek.

  "Dammit! Speak of the devil! That's the Empire's lapdogs!" Chris spat in irritation, cursing loudly. "Ever since Shumanton, that bastard, brought back the 'Solar-ore', these scrap metal buckets powered by rocks have been flying all over the damn place!"

  As soon as the words left his mouth, Chris grabbed Lune by the back of his collar and unceremoniously stuffed him into the carriage cabin like luggage.

  "Hey! Silvan!" Chris leaped up, landing lightly on the carriage roof like a agile panther. "It's the Empire's 'Silverwing Fighters'! What the hell are high-ranking general-exclusive toys doing in a place like this?!"

  Just as Chris shouted, the black speck revealed its menacing true form—an unbelievably colossal triangular battleship!

  The oppressive dark shadow completely swallowed the neighborhood. In the next second, several nimble Silverwing Fighters swarmed out from both sides of the battleship like a hive of bees.

  BOOOM—!!

  Accompanied by deafening roars, hundreds of bullets poured down mercilessly like a torrential rain of metal. The originally peaceful maple woods and stone streets were instantly reduced to tragic, shattered ruins in a chain of explosions.

  With a flick of his wrist, Chris swung his weapon, creating a defensive barrier. He then impatiently roared at Silvan inside the cabin:

  "Tch...! Goddammit. Silvan, stop playing with your alchemy science toys! Hurry up and deploy the defensive barrier!"

  The weapon in Chris's hand was no ordinary sword, but a slender metal rod. The moment the engraved core-seal on the hilt lit up, a scorching, blazing edge instantly extended from the blade, accompanied by an intensely dangerous, high-frequency hum.

  However, the fiercely approaching enemy fighters had no intention of retreating.

  Ignoring the low, old civilian buildings below, their brutal firepower directly blasted open clearing after clearing, landing one after another around the carriage, completely surrounding them.

  Hiding inside the carriage, Lune was already scared out of his wits. Still in shock, he covered his ears tightly, desperately trying to maintain a shred of sanity in this utter madness.

  "Al-Alchemy? That giant thing in the sky... was made with alchemy?!"

  Amidst the deafening explosions, Lune fearfully poked half his head out to peek.

  "Uncle Chris, this doesn't make any sense at all!"

  Lune knew a little bit about the basics of alchemy. Among the common folk, alchemy had always been viewed as some profound, cutting-edge technology that couldn't easily appear in a normal person's daily life.

  "Isn't the ironclad rule of alchemy 'Equivalent Exchange'?! Just what kind of thing do you have to exchange to create such an exaggerated monstrosity?!"

  In fact, Lune's intuition was incredibly accurate.

  Since the true nature of alchemy was cruel Equivalent Exchange—then, what exact price was paid... to create that sun-blotting, colossal triangular battleship?