3rd Person – Kouki Nozomi POV
The afternoon light slanted through the tall windows of Korvath's guildhall, scattering warm gold across polished stone floors and stacks of parchment. The banners of the Adventurer's Guild fluttered faintly in the draft—deep crimson cloth marked with the sigil of the Silver Wolf. The courtyard outside echoed with the sound of wooden weapons colliding, recruits calling cadence, and the steady, rhythmic stomp of training drills.
Kouki Nozomi stood at the center of the hall, arms crossed loosely, posture relaxed—but his eyes were steady, watchful, calculating. A man like a quiet flame: never loud, but impossible to ignore.
He watched the line of new recruits standing stiffly under the vaulted ceiling—nervous, excited, hopeful. They had survived basic trial. Now came assessment.
Beside him stood Akira Kagerou, expression sharp, red hair tied back, arms folded with the air of a swordsman far too bored to pretend at gentleness.
On Kouki's other side, Lia Shinsei carried a clipboard, quill poised, white braid resting against her shoulder. Her tone remained polite but direct—her presence alone the standard of professionalism.
"Next," Lia called.
A young man stepped forward, spear trembling slightly in his hand. He bowed too deeply, nearly losing balance.
Kouki hid a smile. "Relax. You're not being executed. State your name."
The recruit swallowed. "M-Mikoto Ren, sir. Spear user. Defensive formation specialist."
Akira arched a brow. "Defensive formation—do you even know what that means?"
Mikoto flinched. "I—I studied the Frostholm defense treatises—"
The air shifted.
The name hung there, heavy.
Frostholm.
Only a word. But weighty now. Like an omen.
Kouki's expression didn't change—but his heart tightened. They were still waiting for the scout teams to return. Frostholm's fate was unknown. The silence was stretching too long.
He exhaled quietly. "We'll test your stance forms later. For now, fall in with the training group outside."
Mikoto bowed again and hurried off.
Lia wrote a note. "Your mind drifted again."
"I'm just listening to the wind," Kouki answered softly.
Lia did not argue. She heard it too—the absence. The quiet heaviness of the city holding its breath.
The doors of the guildhall slammed open.
Boots. Heavy. Controlled.
Kenji Katsuragi entered first, cloak stained with dust. His bow was slung across his back, but his expression told more than any report ever could. His eyes were steady—not wild, not frantic—but burning. Contained fire. Fury that had found form.
Behind him: Kuroba Rykeri, silent as a shadow; Hanah Kyouka, hands clasped tight around her staff; Ryuji Rei, eyes dark and unreadable.
Lia gasped very softly—not in fear, but in confirmation.
They had seen something terrible.
Kouki stepped forward, voice calm. "Report."
Kenji didn't bow. Didn't greet. He simply spoke.
His voice was steady, but it vibrated like an arrow drawn too tightly.
"Giggleburg is occupied. Not by monsters. By Dargath. Their banners fly openly. Their soldiers dig through the ruins like vultures picking a corpse clean."
A muscle in Akira's jaw tightened.
Kouki said nothing. He let him continue.
Kenji's hands curled into fists.
"We saw General Varric Drayen."
Lia froze.
Akira inhaled—sharply, without meaning to.
Kouki's expression remained unchanged. But a slow, deep current moved beneath his gaze.
"He's alive?"
Kenji nodded. "Alive. Commanding. The Dargath forces weren't retreating. They were waiting. And they're angry. They said Ostoria used them. They plan to—"
His voice broke in a breath. Not weakness—suppressed rage.
"They plan to make us pay."
Silence filled the hall like rising smoke.
Kouki's tone held no surprise. Only acknowledgement.
"We will address it. For now—rest. Eat. Have your wounds treated."
Kenji didn't move. The others waited for Kouki to release them.
"Kenji." Kouki met his eyes fully. "You did well returning without getting drawn in. That restraint may have saved thousands."
The young archer closed his eyes once—just once—and the rage eased slightly.
His team bowed and moved toward the infirmary.
---
Barely ten minutes passed before the doors opened again.
This time they didn't slam—they burst.
Yami Kurikage stumbled in, breath ragged, cloak scorched at the edges. Her team followed: Fukugen Dokumizu, sweat-matted hair; Yakesake Yakitori, trembling; Akihiro Kongo, half-carrying Yami by the arm.
Lia stepped forward immediately. "Stabilize breathing—Yakesake, sit her down—"
But Yami shook her head violently.
Her voice was hoarse, but desperate.
"No—listen. Eldoria—Eldoria is—"
She swallowed air like it hurt to breathe.
"The city isn't dead. It's stopped."
Kouki's brows lowered. "Explain."
Yami pressed her shaking hands together to keep them from trembling.
"People… are standing. Walking. Cooking. Praying. But not moving. Frozen—but breathing. Eyes open—empty."
Fukugen whispered, "And there was a light—"
Yami's voice cracked into something close to hysteria.
"He was floating. A man. A figure. Brighter than the sun. And we—"
Her hand rose slowly.
Kouki saw it before she finished.
No shadow.
Not a line. Not a trace.
Just bare stone beneath her hand.
Lia stepped back.
Akira's eyes finally showed something like fear.
Yami whispered,
"Eldoria is dreaming. And we walked inside the dream. And something saw us."
Kouki exhaled slowly.
"A catastrophe unlike the others. Not war. Something older."
He touched Yami's shoulder—not comforting, but grounding.
"You returned. That is enough for now. Rest."
They were escorted away.
---
The sun dipped beyond the rooftops.
Lanterns flickered to life.
The doors opened again.
This time, the team entered with order.
Mikage Reiken led the way, steps precise, posture controlled.
Hana Hyakui followed, grip steady on her bow.
Fukashi Senyaku checked vials at her belt even as she walked.
Jitsumu Zankyō came last, armor weighing each breath.
He sank down to one knee—just to rest, not to kneel.
Kouki didn't speak. He waited.
Hana stepped forward. Her voice was level.
"Bustleburg has become a fortress. Not chaos. Not scavengers. A machine. The Ogre King and Kobold King are there—but they are being commanded. Directly. By Valeria."
Akira cursed under his breath.
Kouki's gaze narrowed. A strike of clarity.
"A unified chain of command. Not an alliance. A conquest."
Mikage opened a sealed satchel and placed it on the guildhall table.
Valerian orders. Stamped. Authenticated. Undeniable.
"They march for Amarath," Mikage said.
"A full campaign army. Discipline, logistics, strategy. They will not break from pressure. They must be broken from the head."
Kouki nodded slowly. "Understood. Rest. All of you."
---
Night fell.
The torches cast long shadows across the guildhall floor.
And then—
The doors opened for the last time.
This time, silence walked in.
Kaito Mugenrei stepped through, carrying Anzuyi Bizen on his back—her breathing slow and steady, her face peaceful, clearly just asleep. But her exhaustion was total.
Whispers rippled through the hall.
Kaito's expression remained utterly calm.
"She's fine," he said. "She pushed herself in analysis. She'll wake by morning."
Kouki stepped forward.
"And Frostholm?"
Kaito lowered himself, letting Anzuyi rest on a bench before he faced Kouki fully.
His voice was not dramatic.
Not emotional.
Just truth, delivered like a knife drawn clean.
"Frostholm is gone."
The room stilled.
"Not destroyed. Preserved. Every person frozen mid-motion. Terror on every face. A weapon did it. A Valerian one." He reached into his pack and placed a shard of crystal—glasslike, faintly glowing blue—on the table.
"'Winter's Kiss'," Kaito continued. "A super-weapon. Flash-freeze. Instant. Leaves the city intact. Designed to conquer without damaging resources."
Akira stared at the crystal like it might bite.
Kaito's eyes met Kouki's—and for the first time that day someone spoke not in panic, or fear, or fury—
—but clarity.
"This weapon wasn't meant for Frostholm," Kaito said quietly.
"It was a test. The next deployment will be refined. Controlled. Large-scale."
Kouki nodded once.
"The target?"
Kaito didn't blink.
"Korvath."
The hall went silent.
Not one person spoke.
Not one chair creaked.
Not one breath felt free.
Kouki slowly exhaled.
Then he spoke—not loudly, not forcefully—but with the weight of command.
"Send word to Iroko. Call the war council. No delay."
He looked toward the map pinned to the wall—the kingdom of Ostoria, now surrounded by enemies on all sides.
Valeria from the North.
Dargath from the west.
The Stasis anomaly to the south.
The unified monster army at their doorstep.
"This is no longer a war to survive," Kouki said.
"It is a war to prevent extinction."
He turned to the dark window, where Korvath's city lights flickered like fragile stars against the night.
"And the world has already begun to end."
---
The guildhall held its breath.
As the night grew darker.