After sitting there for two whole hours staring at the water, Veil finally stood and walked to the stream. He drank deeply, splashed his face one last time, then picked up his sword and turned back toward the puppy’s remains.

  His throat tightened as he looked at the tiny pile of bones, realizing it hadn’t been some illusion. It had really happened. He gathered the bones carefully, carried them to the edge of the stream, and laid them beside a large rock. Then he drew his dagger from his satchel, staring at it as though waiting for it to offer some kind of answer.

  “Sorry… but it’s all I have,” he whispered, eyes fixed on the faintly pulsing blade.

  He drove the dagger into the ground and began to dig, stabbing and scooping the dirt over and over until a shallow hole took shape. Once it was deep enough, he gently set the bones inside and covered them with soil.

  Next, he walked to a patch of smooth stones by the stream, gathered a few, and carried them back. One by one, he stacked them until a small, stable mound stood over the fresh earth. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he picked a few flowers from nearby and placed them atop the little grave.

  “Forgive me… I should’ve protected you. I was weak—cowardly. I thought things would be better here. After fighting a Hydra, I froze in front of a tiny creature,” he murmured, voice trembling as tears welled in his eyes.

  He rested a hand on the mound of soil one last time before standing, wiping away the tears that blurred his vision. The image of the puppy still haunted him, but he had learned something he would never forget—never assume a monster is harmless.

  He took out his notebook to review the plants he was supposed to collect, then followed the stream, searching for spots that matched the descriptions. Eventually, he reached a small embankment casting a patch of shade over the water, where several types of plants grew thickly.

  A faint smile crossed his face when he recognized the broad, pale leaves of the Lumépha. He knelt to pick one—but when his fingers brushed the plant, nothing happened. It didn’t emit the soft shimmer it was supposed to. He tried a few others with the same result, until one finally began to glow faintly under his touch.

  “Well, that’s just great… and I need eight of these. At this rate, I’ll be here all week,” he sighed, carefully plucking the small plant.

  As he stored it away, a delicate chime drifted from nearby. The soft breeze had stirred a Riverbell he hadn’t noticed before, its sound gentle and strangely soothing.

  He followed the tinkling melody, eyes scanning the clear water until he spotted it—a small bell-shaped bulb, swaying gracefully, seemingly floating in the calm current.

  He sat down, removed his shoes, and rolled up his pants. The water wasn’t deep, but the plant was just far enough that he’d have to step in to reach it. He waded forward and bent down, spotting the threadlike stem—so fine it was nearly invisible. With care, he pulled the plant loose, cutting the stem in two before holding it up for a closer look.

  A few seconds later, the stem darkened to a deep green, its shape suddenly clear. Frowning slightly, Veil pulled out his field guide to check whether that was normal—and found the explanation he’d missed earlier.

  The semi-transparent hue comes from the water it absorbs to conceal itself. Once removed from the stream, the Riverbell returns to its natural dark green color, and its delicate chime falls silent.

  “So that’s normal after all…” he muttered, nodding slightly before tucking the plant away.

  He continued along the stream, collecting what he could find. The rest of the morning slipped by like that—quiet, steady work under the warmth of the sun. By the time it crossed its zenith, Veil decided to stop and rest.

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  He turned slowly, scanning the open field for a good spot, and soon found one—a lone tree surrounded by small stones beside the stream. He made his way over and settled beneath it, grateful for the shade.

  He pulled out a small flask and a lunch box made of dull metal. Though it looked ordinary, its enchantment kept the contents at the same temperature as the day they were stored.

  The smell of the food made his stomach growl, but his throat tightened when he saw what was inside. He took a sip from the flask, then forced down a bite of meat, chewing and swallowing with effort.

  When he finally finished the meal, some of the weight pressing on his chest eased. He took out the plants he’d gathered to check his progress.

  “I’m still short—four Riverbells and three Lumépha left. I’d better move faster if I don’t want to be out here after dark,” he muttered, lips tightening in thought.

  As he packed up his things, something across the stream caught his eye.

  A strange, humanoid creature was walking along the opposite bank, its gaze hard, a small dagger clutched in a clawed hand. Its hunched frame revealed lean, wiry muscles coiled and ready to spring. The dark fur bristling along its back faded to a lighter tone on its chest, giving it a tense, sinewy look.

  Its long red ears, tattered by old tears, twitched at every sound. Its orange eyes gleamed with a feverish, almost feral light. A scaly tail whipped behind it in measured rhythm, helping it balance with every stride. Everything about it spoke of a street predator—clever, vicious, patient enough to strike only when the odds were perfect.

  But what struck Veil the most was its size. The creature was barely as tall as a child. And yet, it dragged behind it a boulder twice its own weight, tethered to it by a thick rope. It hauled the stone without apparent strain, claws digging into the earth for traction as the rock churned the soil in its wake.

  Veil watched in silence as it passed, unnoticed. The creature didn’t even glance his way—as though its mind was locked onto something far beyond him.

  “Seriously… who designs things like this? The farther I go, the stranger everything gets,” he sighed, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

  He eventually turned back to the task at hand, following the stream upstream in search of the remaining plants. The wind had died down, leaving the Riverbells hard to find—their delicate chiming gone without a breeze to stir them.

  After two more hours of searching, he’d managed to gather all the Lumépha he needed, but the four Riverbells still eluded him.

  “How am I supposed to find them? Without their sound, they’re impossible to spot,” he muttered, scratching his head.

  He spent several minutes thinking, staring at the still surface of the water, silently hoping for a gust of wind to help him—but the air stayed still. With a frustrated sigh, he sat by the stream, letting his fingers drift lazily through the cool current. As he watched the water curl around his hand, an idea suddenly clicked.

  “Of course! How did I not think of that sooner? Idiot… the answer’s been right in front of me this whole time. I’ll just make my own wind!” he exclaimed, flinging his dripping hand out of the stream.

  He raised his palm above the water and aimed it downstream. Focusing his mana into his hand, he released it in a single burst.

  The result was… not what he’d planned.

  A sudden gust roared to life, blasting the stream apart. Water exploded in all directions, splashing several meters high before falling back in a noisy wave. Veil flinched and immediately cut off the flow. The wind stopped dead, and the water quickly returned to its natural course.

  “Well, the idea’s good—but if I keep that up, I’ll just end up wrecking the plants,” he groaned, watching the stream settle again. “I need to be gentler… let it flow, not force it.”

  He shifted his stance by the bank, took a slow breath, and tried again—this time channeling his mana with finer control. Turning his palm to the opposite side, he exhaled and let the energy escape softly.

  This time, only a gentle breeze formed—still a bit rough, but soft enough that the water merely rippled. Faint chimes rang out here and there, carried lightly by the current.

  Encouraged, Veil followed the sound until he spotted the delicate plant. It didn’t take him long to collect it, leaving only three more to find before he could finally head back to town.

  He repeated the process again and again, though each time took longer. The plants grew scarcer the farther he went upstream, until the landscape began to shift. The water narrowed, and ahead loomed a forest—dark, silent, and unsettling.

  Even from a distance, he could tell that no sunlight reached through the thick canopy. The shadows beneath it were absolute, as if the place had been swallowed by a never-ending night. Not even the birds dared to cross above it; they curved their flight paths to avoid the area entirely.

  As he finally plucked the last Riverbell from the stream, a strange instinct made him glance toward the forest. For a fleeting second, he thought he saw something—two faint, dark eyes staring back at him from between the trees.

  No… maybe it’s just my imagination, he thought, heart quickening as he turned away. He quickened his pace, eager to put distance between himself and that silent wall of black leaves, until he reached the open, peaceful meadow once more.

  The sun still hung high, though the end of the day was beginning to show. He decided to sit for a while, letting the quiet embrace him. The city had its comforts, but peace like this was rare—with no shouting merchants, no clattering carts, just the whisper of grass and the murmur of the stream.

  He let his thoughts wander, replaying everything he’d seen and lived through since his arrival. He remembered that voice—the one that had spoken to him with such cold contempt—and he still didn’t know why. But one thing was certain: he’d been given a second chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it, no matter how strange this world might seem.

  When he finally stood again, the sky had taken on shades of rose and orange, painting the land in warm light. The evening air grew cooler, brushing softly against his skin as he started back toward Aldelion.

  But as he neared the clearing he needed to cross, a scream tore through the air—

  “AAAHHHHHH!”

  Veil froze, scanning the surroundings. Nothing but trees. The sound vanished as quickly as it had come.

  He took a cautious step forward—then another scream broke out, sharper this time, unmistakably human. A woman’s voice, desperate and terrified.

  “HELP! SOMEBODY, HELP ME!!!”