For a moment, there was only silence.
Ash floated gently through the air where the bandits had once stood. The fires had begun to die, and the thick smoke slowly drifted away from the square.
Then, a whisper broke the stillness.
"...We're saved."
A woman's voice, thin but trembling with hope.
"Thank the gods... we're actually saved."
And then the crowd erupted.
Dozens of prisoners, bruised and bound, lifted their heads. Tears turned into laughter. Children sobbed into their mothers' arms. People clutched each other, murmuring thanks, falling to their knees.
"The Heavenly Knight saved us!"
"I can't believe it… they actually sent someone!"
"We're safe. We're finally safe!"
The townspeople stared at the crimson-armored figure in the middle of the ruined square — Captain Erber, still standing where the flame had died, the ashes of the bandits scattered around his feet. He didn't look back at them. His gaze remained fixed on the wreckage ahead.
"Long live the Captain!"
"Long live the Heavenly Knights!"
From behind the crowd, someone wept aloud. Others joined in—not out of sorrow, but from the overwhelming weight of survival.
They had been minutes from slaughter.
And now, they were alive.
Some in the crowd began to cheer — but others turned, their joy hollowing into disbelief.
Smoke still clung to the air like a shroud.
And then they saw it.
Their homes — gone.
Shops reduced to ash. The streets blackened. All their belongings, their savings, their lives — burned.
Voices rose in confusion.
Then in anger.
The townspeople surged forward, forming a furious wall, waving sticks, broken tools, anything they could hold.
"You burned down half our town!" a shopkeeper yelled. "Everything we owned—gone!"
"Our homes! Our savings!" a woman cried.
"We have nothing!" shouted another.
Geum stepped forward, arms out.
"Everyone, please—calm down! You're alive. That's what matters. We can rebuild!"
But her words fell on deaf ears.
"Rebuild?!" someone snapped. "With what?"
"Yeah!" shouted another. "We've got nothing left! You torched the whole town!"
The crowd surged louder. Geum's voice faltered. She tried again—quieter.
"We just need to stay calm…"
But no one listened.
Then — Erber stepped forward.
He said nothing at first. The silence stretched too long. The air itself seemed to stiffen.
He looked over the soot-streaked faces, listened to the rage, the grief—and something dark flickered in his eyes.
"I see…" he muttered. "You filth have grown even more useless"
Geum turned toward him sharply. "Wait—Captain—!"
Erber raised his hand toward the crowd. His palm began to glow with gathering flame.
Geum's eyes widened in horror.
"No—"
Erber didn't look at her.
"And completely unnecessary."
FWOOM.
A massive wave of fire erupted from his hand, tearing across the square in a roar of flame and ash. It engulfed everything — the smoke swallowing the townspeople's screams as the light burned white-hot.
Geum shut her eyes.
She couldn't watch.
Then—
Silence.
The smoke rolled across the ground, thick and choked with heat.
For a long, dreadful moment, it seemed as if nothing could have survived.
Then—
A shape.
Something stood in the haze.
As the smoke began to drift and clear, it slowly came into view:
A tree.
Twisted and scorched, but still standing.
A massive, wooden wall had risen from the earth — blocking the blast.
Erber took one step forward, eyes narrowing.
"…What?"
Even Oldot stared, mouth open. "I-it stopped it," he whispered. "Something actually stopped the Captain's attack…"
The smoke curled off the tree's blackened bark.
Then it cracked.
A hiss of steam.
Then the tree wall — scorched and cracked — slowly burned down…and behind it stood a boy.
Burned. Bleeding. Breathing hard.
Dirt streaked his arms. His clothes were torn. But he was standing. Alive.
And in his hand… was a shovel.
Geum's heart leapt to her throat.
Her voice broke.
"Matsu!!"
But Matsu didn't look back.
Aldot looked down — the rope that had once bound him lay cut on the ground.
Matsu raised his gaze, locking eyes with Erber.
His voice came low, shaking, but full of fury.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
He didn't acknowledge what he had just done — didn't even seem to know how he did it.
He stepped forward.
Erber's brow twitched.
Matsu's voice rose.
"They're innocent people!"
In one motion, he pulled out his shovel and swung it at the captain.
Erber regained his composure, catching the strike — one-handed — halting the shovel mid-air firmly.
Matsu grunted, trying to pull it back.
"Let go—!"
He struggled, jerking the handle, but Erber held firm.
Then his expression changed.
Eyes narrowing.
Fingers closing.
He looked down at the weapon in his grip.
The wood shimmered faintly beneath his gauntlet. A pulse — slow, steady — thrummed against his palm.
Erber's voice lowered, serious now.
"...This is no ordinary shovel."
Erber gripped the shovel, holding the boy in place, his face tightening with cold fury.
"This is an Artifact"
"An artifact?!" Oldot said surprised "How the hell does a farmer boy own an Artifact?
"you've broken the world taboo," Erber muttered. " I'll have to execute you now."
His fist began to glow — flames coiling around it like a viper.
Matsu's eyes widened in panic. "Wait—wait, stop it! STOP IT!"
He clenched his eyes shut, bracing for the searing impact.
But it never came.
Slowly, hesitantly, Matsu opened his eyes.
A man stood between them — calm, poised, and effortless.
He was gripping Erber's flaming fist with a bare hand. The fire hissed against his skin — but he didn't flinch.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Didn't your mom ever teach you not to throw fire around like that?" he said, voice cool — almost amused.
Matsu blinked.
Him.
The strange man.
Erber snarled, eyes narrowing. "You. why are you here…?"
The man shrugged. "Sightseeing."
"Stop joking around!" Erber snapped, yanking his hand back, heat still surging.
But the man casually raised a finger and pointed at Erber's chest.
"You sure you want to do that?"
Erber frowned. "What?"
"Captain Erber! Your coat—!" one of the soldiers shouted.
"It's burning!"
Erber looked down — flames were already crawling up the fabric, licking toward his shoulders.
"Shit—!"
He tore it off, flinging the smoking cloth aside with a snarl.
The strange man gave him a lopsided grin. "Told you. Fire blasts? Not always the best idea."
Erber seethed, fists clenched, jaw tight. He couldn't risk using his flames again — not without burning himself alive.
Behind him, Matsu stared, stunned.
"You… you came back…" he said quietly.
The man looked over his shoulder, offering a small smile. "Yeah."
He turned to Matsu, eyes gentle now, and reached out — ruffling the boy's hair with one hand.
"Don't worry. It's fine now."
But Erber wasn't finished.
Fueled by rage, he lunged again — flames be damned — driving a punch straight at the stranger's head.
"Look behind you!" Matsu voice cried.
The man didn't even turn.
He walked.
Erber's fist stopped inches from the side of his head — the heat scorching the air — but the man didn't flinch.
He just kept walking.
Erber collapsed to one knee, breath ragged. His coat now fully ablaze, he yanked it off and hurled it to the ground, swearing under his breath.
"Damn it…"
The man didn't spare him another glance.
He walked past like Erber didn't exist.
The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the smoke-filled ruins.
Matsu stood frozen.
His body ached. His mind raced.
But finally, his voice broke through.
"Wait—who the heck are you!?"
The man paused mid-step.
"Me?" he echoed, glancing back over his shoulder.
He smiled.
Wide. Fearless. Certain.
"I'm the man who's going to change this world."
Something in the way he said it made the air feel different — heavier. Sharper. As if the world itself had heard him.
Matsu stared after him, eyes wide with awe.
Before he could say another word, the man lifted a hand.
A simple wave goodbye.
Then he walked into the fading light.
Matsu stood there a moment longer, eyes glimmering.
And whispered softly to himself—
"I found him, Grandpa."
"I'm sure of it."