The wind of determination pressed against Kairo's face as he moved steadily toward the center of the ruins. Broken stone crunched beneath his boots, each step echoing faintly through the hollow buildings ahead.
[These last two days…]
[After that short talk on the communication orb, everything was decided.]
[I started moving toward the center almost immediately.]
And he hadn't gone alone.
Shiri crawled calmly at his side, hir sharp eyes never leaving the shadows ahead, while Onyx followed just behind, silent as ever. Theo had wanted to come too—wanted it badly.
The memory surfaced uninvited.
Theo's hands clenched tightly around Kairo's already torn tournament uniform, his knuckles white.
"Let! Me! Go!" Kairo had snapped, trying to pull free. "You can't come on this one!"
"Why not?!" Theo shouted back. "I wanna go too! You can't just leave me here with her!"
Lilian's eyes widened. "Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!"
Before things could escalate further, Shiri had stepped between them, hands raised. "Now, now, Theo. Calm down. Listen to Kairo—"
But Theo hadn't listened.
A sharp rip echoed as the uniform finally tore apart, sending Kairo stumbling forward. Theo lost his balance as well, hitting the ground hard. The boy froze, then immediately bowed his head.
"I—I'm sorry."
Kairo had turned back, sighing deeply. "No worries." He pulled off the rest of the ruined uniform, revealing the black shirt beneath. Patting it down, he muttered, "Well… that thing was roughed up pretty bad anyway. Honestly, didn't expect a tournament uniform to last this long."
Looking upward with closed eyes, he'd added quietly, "Theo… this is important. I need everyone at their best in case something goes wrong. That means you need to rest."
Theo had nodded silently, his green hair dirty and matted.
"Clean up," Kairo had said. "We brought water back from the irrigation system. Use it."
Lilian had brightened—then frowned. "But the water's not hot."
Kairo had glanced at her. "Hey, you're the mage. Figure it out."
Turning to Flint, Kairo's gaze had sharpened. "You stay too."
"But bos—"
"Protect them."
Flint met his eyes, then grinned fiercely. "You got it, boss!"
Kairo patted Flint's chest firmly, trust passing between them without words.
The memory faded.
Kairo refocused on the present.
Kairo exhaled, then added casually, [On a side note… this was a long time coming, but I finally managed to activate the Gnawed Token,] pride and relief flickering across his eyes.
Small shapes moved beside them.
Ratmen.
Two of them padded forward on clawed feet—short, hunched bodies with oversized front teeth and twitching noses. One had gray fur and glowing red eyes, wearing a battered helmet. The other, black-furred with ruby eyes, had a single shoulder guard strapped on. Both carried crude spears, with makeshift bows slung across their backs—Shiri's handiwork.
They sniffed the air constantly, tails swaying.
One of them turned, voice rough and scratchy.
"Boss… place here. We here now."
The other nodded quickly. "Smell old stone."
Kairo smiled faintly.
[So I can summon ratmen too…]
Ahead, the ruins waited.
Shiri glanced down at the small ratmen padding along beside them, and the memory resurfaced almost on its own.
Back then, Kairo had stood near the Territory Core, breath steady, eyes sharp. "Here we go," he'd muttered, finally activating the Gnawed Token after reaching Tier Three. Light twisted, mana rippled—and the two ratmen had popped into existence.
There had been half a second of silence.
Then Lilian screamed.
"RATS—!" Her voice cracked, eyes watering as she nearly burst into tears. The ratmen, utterly clueless, tilted their heads and started waddling toward her, tails swaying curiously.
That was when Lilian bolted straight for Shiri.
He barely had time to react before something collided with his face. "H—hey, missy—!" Shiri staggered, coughing, Lilian clinging to him like her life depended on it. As he tried to peel her off, he glanced down—
And locked eyes with the ratmen.
To them, the world froze.
A gigantic serpent loomed before them. Scales. Height. Power. A predator.
The moment Shiri looked at them, their tiny hearts nearly stopped. This wasn't a person—this was death staring at its prey.
They screamed internally and ran.
Dust, and panic filled the air as the ratmen scattered in opposite directions, shrieking in squeaky terror. It took Kairo several long moments to calm everyone down.
The memory faded as they returned to the present.
Shiri crouched slightly and reached out, trying to gently pat one of the ratmen. The poor creature flinched hard, squeaking, eyes wide as dinner plates. It glanced at its comrade—
Who clasped his hands together solemnly and began praying.
"May tail be swift… may pain be short…" the second ratman whispered.
The first ratman twitched, furious. "Oi! No pray! I not dead yet!"
Shiri blinked, then sighed. "Damn… they really are scared of me, huh?"
"Yeah," Kairo said easily. "Who wouldn't be?"
Shiri shot him a sharp glare.
"M-maybe," Kairo immediately stuttered, waving his hands, "ratmen are naturally terrified of nagas! Hahaha—biology, you know?"
Onyx stood nearby, silent.
His nonexistent eyes focused on the ratmen.
The two stiffened.
Slowly, nervously, one ratman raised a claw and waved at Onyx, squeaking, "Hello, dark-eater… please no eat today?"
Onyx didn't move.
The ratman whimpered.
By the time the sun reached its peak, noon had quietly settled over the ruins. Light poured down through broken stone and open sky as they pushed through the last stretch of cracked pathways. Then, all at once, the ruins opened up.
A clearing.
Kairo stopped.
He sucked in a sharp breath, blue eyes widening as the sight before him unfolded. Sunlight spilled across a colossal circular structure at the center of the clearing, its presence overwhelming, ancient, and proud. Four massive arches stood at equal distances around the circle, each one carved as a grand entrance facing a cardinal direction. Weathered, yet unbroken, they seemed to welcome—and judge—those who approached.
The arch directly ahead of Kairo felt… right.
As he stepped forward, the ground beneath his boots subtly changed. Dust and rubble thinned, replaced by stone worn smooth by time. A red-bricked path slowly revealed itself, stretching toward the arch like a ceremonial road. On either side, carefully shaped hedges of flowering bushes lined the way, their forms unnaturally precise—perfect cubes, arranged in neat intervals. Color bloomed among the ruins, stubborn and beautiful.
Kairo swallowed, his jaw tightening. Awe tried to slow him, but determination burned brighter. He moved forward.
Passing beneath the arch, he found himself flanked by two towering warrior statues. Both wore heavy helmets and bore shields, each holding a spear in a firm, eternal grip. Time had not been kind. One statue had lost an arm, chunks of its helmet shattered away. The other stood with a cracked leg, its shield split cleanly down the middle.
Yet even broken, they radiated dignity.
"Incredible craftsmanship," Shiri muttered, eyes tracing every carved line. "Even I'd struggle to make something like this."
The ratmen scampered ahead, noses twitching rapidly. "Big nest," one squeaked in awe. "Very big."
Onyx said nothing. He walked on without pause, giving the structure no more attention than the stones beneath his feet.
They climbed a short flight of stairs, reaching a wide landing where tall pillars stood like silent sentinels. Beyond them, the red bricks faded into warm yellow stone. With each step inward, the air felt heavier—charged.
Kairo advanced toward the center.
Whatever awaited him, he was finally here.
Kairo moved forward, each step echoing with purpose as he approached the heart of the structure.
There it was.
A massive round table rested at the center, carved from deep black stone, wide enough for a full-grown man to lie across. Its surface was smooth, almost polished, as if countless hands had brushed over it across generations. Five chairs surrounded it—ancient, heavy, and imposing.
Two of them were empty.
Waiting.
On one chair lounged Varen, both boots planted shamelessly atop the table, arms folded behind his head. His orange jacket hung open, black pants and boots worn with careless confidence. His hair remained wildly spiked, but now a bold red streak cut through it, swept forward with fierce intent—untamed, battle-ready, blending reckless energy with sharp, fearless confidence. A grin played on his lips, one golden eye cracked open in amusement. Beside him, the massive ork sat directly on the floor, roaring with laughter, his colossal axe resting against the stone like it weighed nothing.
Opposite them sat Lyra.
Composed. Regal. Cold.
Her black horns curved elegantly from her head, white hair catching the sunlight as she calmly sipped from a teacup, white gloves spotless. Standing faithfully at her side was Renn, violin tucked beneath his chin, fingers moving smoothly across the strings. The faint scar across his throat remained—a silent reminder of loyalty paid in blood.
Between them sat Claymond.
Hands clasped. Eyes closed. Presence steady as falling rain.
The eye-patched maid stood behind him, unmoving, her polished gauntlets gleaming.
The scene stole Kairo's breath.
"They're your allies," Shiri muttered. "Confidence is key."
Kairo shot him a glance.
Shiri nodded once. "Walk."
Kairo stepped forward.
They noticed him instantly.
He reached one of the empty chairs and sat, posture firm, gaze unwavering.
Varen chuckled, opening one golden eye. "Well, look who finally showed up."
Kairo smiled faintly. "What's with the new look?"
"Trying something new," Varen laughed.
Lyra turned her gaze toward him, hiding a smile behind cold eyes. "Good. At least this time, you arrived before things got… inconvenient."
Kairo sighed, clasping his hands. "I said I was sorry. It won't happen again."
His eyes shifted to the remaining empty chair. "So… whose seat is that?"
"The old man's," Varen replied casually.
Lyra added, "The fifth. And strongest among us."
Claymond opened his eyes.
"Well then," he said calmly, "now that we're all here…"
He paused.
"Let's start the meeting."
To be continued...