Kevin continued walking, he knew how society work. People acted good for their own good. They were kind if they saw benefits on you, but disregard you when you have nothing to offer them.
That's how human society worked.
For a long while, Kevin walked in silence, his boots crunching against dead leaves and loose gravel.
All of a sudden he stopped.
Celize turned. "What is it?"
Kevin frowned, eyes narrowing as memory clicked into place. "…Kelya's soul crystal."
Celize stiffened slightly. "The Storm Tiger's crystal?"
Kevin nodded. "We left her corpse behind. The villagers won't know how to handle something like that. Worse, if someone with bad intentions finds it… it could become another disaster waiting to happen."
Celize exhaled slowly. "You're right. A Defiled beast's crystal is too dangerous to leave unattended."
Without another word, Kevin reached into the shadow at his feet. The darkness rippled like disturbed water.
"Black Rabbit."
The shadow stretched upward and peeled itself into the familiar humanoid form. His red eyes glowed faintly in the dimming forest.
"Retrieve Kelya's soul crystal," Kevin ordered. "Bring it back immediately."
Black Rabbit gave a sharp nod and dissolved into shadow, vanishing between the trees in a blink.
They resumed walking, but the forest felt heavier now—every rustling branch and distant animal cry pressing against Kevin's nerves. The events of the mountain still clung to him like unseen chains.
Half an hour later, the shadows ahead warped again.
Black Rabbit emerged silently, holding a crystal in his clawed hand.
The crystal glowed with a strange, turbulent light—neither purely golden nor fully orange. The colors swirled within it like trapped lightning in amber.
Celize's breath caught. "A Defiled-level crystal," she said softly. "No doubt about it."
Kevin studied it with narrowed eyes. The crystal pulsed faintly, almost as if it still lived.
"This wasn't from a fully-fledged Defiled beast," he said. "Imagine how terrifying one must be."
Celize remained silent.
Some thoughts were too heavy for immediate words.
They walked until moonlight replaced daylight, until the forest thickened into deep shadow and the air cooled against their skin. When fatigue finally set in, Kevin spotted a massive tree ahead. Its trunk wider than a house, its roots stretching like coiled serpents across the forest floor.
"This works," he said.
They settled beneath the exposed roots, the earth sheltered on two sides by natural wooden walls. Kevin gathered fallen branches and struck a spark against stone. Soon, firelight bloomed quietly against the darkness.
Warmth returned.
Kevin prepared a simple meal with practiced ease. While they ate, the forest hummed with distant life.
Kevin broke the silence.
"There's something I still don't understand," he said. "How did a Defiled beast like Kelya remain hidden within the outer regions of the human territories for so long?"
Celize warmed her hands near the fire. "The kingdom of Corano alone spans more land than most adventurers will ever fully explore. Add in the secrecy of the villagers—and the fact that Kelya demanded silence as part of her 'worship'—it's not surprising she remained hidden."
Kevin nodded slowly. "The world is bigger than I thought."
He poked at the fire, embers shifting beneath his dagger's tip. "How many kingdoms are there in Atlas altogether?"
Celize glanced upward as if picturing the world's map in her mind. "Three major kingdoms. Six smaller ones. The human territories only occupy a fraction of Atlas now."
Celize added softly, "Most borders press directly against Soulborne lands, and only one doesn't..."
"…The Holy Vitrugo Empire."
Kevin leaned back against the root, gazing into the fire. "Tell me about it."
"The Vitrugo Empire isn't an ordinary," Celize said quietly. "It's small compared to the major kingdoms. It holds no vast farmlands, no massive armies like Corano or Myrth. Geography alone should have destroyed it long ago. Surrounded by stronger kingdoms. Yet no one dares invade it."
"Because of faith, since it was a holy empire?" Kevin asked.
"No, because of fear," Celize corrected. "Vitrugo controls the core of all religious power in human land. The Holy Knights, the Light Priests, the Soul Inquisitors—they all train there. Every kingdom depends on their blessings, their rituals, their knowledge of Soulborne extermination."
Kevin's eyes narrowed slightly. "Power through fear and necessity."
Celize's eyes lit faintly. "Exactly, but there's more to that. The Vitrugo Soul Academy. The greatest academy in Atlas. Knights, mages, summoners—any who receive training there become far stronger than ordinary adventurers."
"There's also the Vitrugo Magic Library,"
"The largest in the world."
Kevin leaned back against the tree root. "…Sounds like the heart of human power."
"It is," Celize said. "And it survives because every other kingdom needs it to survive."
Kevin smirked faintly. "So it's politics backed by holy fire."
Celize met his eyes. "Precisely."
Kevin was quiet for several seconds, then said, "Maybe I should attend that academy."
Celize blinked. Then she shook her head. "Impossible."
"Why?"
"You need a recommendation from a recognized kingdom. Bloodline evaluations. Sponsor houses. Nobility connections. You have none of those."
Kevin sighed. "So it's a gilded gate."
"Politics keeps the monsters out as much as it keeps people in," Celize said. "That's how humans survive now."
The fire burned low as the conversation faded into silence. Eventually, fatigue dragged against their eyelids.
They slept beneath the ancient tree, shadows dancing across bark and stone.
The first day broke with silver mist hugging the forest floor.
They traveled through low hills and thinning woodland, where the trees grew shorter and the wind moved more freely. The land sloped downward toward wide open spaces where grasslands began to replace forest.
By noon, ruined watchtowers appeared on distant ridges—cracked stone relics of wars long forgotten. Kevin felt eyes on him more than once, the familiar pressure of unseen predators lurking at the border zones between wildlands and human paths.
They encountered no major threats.
Only primal beasts.
By evening, they crossed a dry ravine where old water once flowed. The air grew warmer, and the land more barren. Black Rabbit warned Kevin of Soulborne traces nearby, but none attacked.
By the second day, the land changed completely.
Wagon tracks carved deep lines into the earth. Campsites scarred the fields. The scent of smoke and cooked meat carried faintly on the wind.
Then, at the crest of a gentle hill—
Que'tol came into view.
Kevin stopped walking.
The town spread wide across the plain, bustling with life. Tall stone walls nearly ten meters high encircled it, thick enough to repel small Soulborne assaults. Beyond it, even larger and more imposing, loomed the outer wall of the Kingdom of Corano—a colossal thirty-meter fortress barrier of stone and rune-etched steel stretching endlessly across the horizon.
Que'tol was connected directly to that grand wall like a fortified limb.
Caravans lined the outer roads. Adventurers in armored groups entered and exited through massive steel-reinforced gates. Watchtowers stood at equal intervals along the walls, banners of Corano and the Adventurer's Guild fluttering in the wind.
Celize exhaled quietly. "…Que'tol."
Kevin studied the sight in silence. After ruins, death, and false gods, the presence of living industry felt almost overwhelming.
"It's thriving," he said.
Celize nodded. "It's a hub. Merchants buy Soulborne materials here. Adventurers sell their loot. Everything from weapons to soul crystals passes through this town."
Black Rabbit melted back into Kevin's shadow as they descended toward the gate.
The gates of Que'tol stood wide open, guarded by armored sentries bearing halberds glowing faintly with barrier runes. Long caravans waited in orderly lines. Merchants argued over taxes. Adventurers laughed loudly while dividing spoils.
Life moved here.
As Kevin and Celize approached, one of the guards stepped forward. "Purpose of entry?"