Morning came more gently this time.
Sunlight slipped through the thin curtains of the inn room, casting a soft glow across the wooden floor. The noise of the city had not yet reached its peak, leaving the early hours unusually calm for a place like Ambrose.
Arman opened his eyes slowly.
For a brief moment, he simply stared at the ceiling.
Then—
He sat up.
His body felt lighter than the day before. The exhaustion from the journey and the battle had mostly faded, replaced by a steady sense of readiness.
A faint memory of crackling energy lingered in his mind.
Thunderclap.
Arman glanced at his hand briefly before exhaling.
"...Later."
For now, they had somewhere to be.
Downstairs, the inn had already come to life.
Warm air greeted them, carrying the rich aroma of food that immediately filled the senses. It was deeper than usual—earthy, savory, and slightly smoky.
Altair was already seated.
Of course.
A half-empty plate sat in front of him.
"You're late," he said casually, not even looking up.
Arman raised an eyebrow.
"You woke up before me?"
Altair smirked.
"No."
"I just value food more than sleep."
Eleos arrived shortly after, taking a seat across from them.
"You started without us again."
Altair shrugged.
"If I waited, the food would get cold."
Eleos sighed.
"Unbelievable."
Arman sat down just as the innkeeper brought their breakfast.
Fresh bread—still warm, the surface slightly crisp. Beside it, a bowl of steaming mushroom soup released a rich, earthy aroma, the scent of herbs blending perfectly with the warmth.
And then—
The main dish.
Slices of grilled brisket, cooked until tender, the edges slightly charred. A thick glaze coated the surface, dark and glossy, giving off a smoky-sweet scent reminiscent of barbecue. The fat had rendered just enough, leaving the meat glistening under the morning light.
Altair's eyes lit up slightly.
"Now this is worth waking up for."
Eleos leaned slightly closer, inspecting the dish.
"...That actually smells really good."
Arman picked up a piece of bread, dipping it lightly into the mushroom soup before taking a bite.
Warm.
Soft inside, slightly crisp outside.
The soup was rich but not heavy, the flavor of mushrooms deep and comforting.
"...Yeah," he said quietly. "This is good."
Altair didn't wait.
He picked up a slice of brisket and took a bite.
The meat was tender, breaking apart easily. The smoky flavor hit first, followed by a slightly sweet and savory coating that lingered.
He paused for a second.
Then—
"...Okay, I'm not talking for a bit."
Eleos smirked faintly.
"That's rare."
She took a bite as well, her expression softening almost immediately.
"...It's really good."
For a while, the three of them simply ate.
No urgency.
No tension.
Just a quiet moment, enjoying a proper meal.
Altair broke the silence eventually.
"So."
He leaned back slightly.
"We're really just escorting him back to Rostam?"
Arman nodded.
"That was the deal."
Eleos took a sip of the soup.
"It should be easier than coming here."
Altair snorted.
"Yeah. No giant sea monsters this time."
A brief pause.
"...Hopefully."
Arman gave a small nod.
"Still. We shouldn't assume it'll be easy."
Altair grinned.
"Good."
"I was starting to get bored."
Eleos rolled her eyes.
"You say that now."
The conversation faded again, replaced by the quiet sounds of eating and the occasional clink of utensils.
Outside, Ambrose continued to wake.
But inside—
For just a moment—
Everything felt calm.
After finishing their meal, Arman stood and approached the counter.
"We'll be checking out."
The innkeeper nodded, taking the payment without issue.
Altair stretched his arms as they headed toward the door.
"Alright… back to work."
Eleos adjusted her belongings.
"Let's not be late."
The streets of Ambrose were already busy by the time they stepped outside.
Merchants prepared their stalls, wagons rolled along the stone roads, and adventurers moved with purpose.
This time, they weren't exploring.
They were leaving.
The three of them made their way toward the main gate, passing through the growing crowd until the towering walls came into view once again.
Near the gate—
Michio was already waiting.
His wives stood beside him, their supplies packed and secured neatly.
He noticed them immediately.
"Right on time."
Altair shrugged.
"We don't like waiting."
Eleos crossed her arms lightly.
"You're the one who told us to be here at sunrise."
Michio chuckled.
"Fair enough."
His expression became slightly more focused.
"Ready?"
Arman nodded.
"Yeah."
He glanced back once—just briefly.
Ambrose.
A city that offered opportunity.
And something deeper beneath it.
But for now—
That would wait.
Michio turned toward the road beyond the gate.
"Let's head back to Rostam."
And with that—
They began their journey once more.
Leaving Ambrose behind them… for now.
After leaving the gates of Ambrose, the atmosphere gradually shifted. The noise of the city faded behind them, replaced by the steady rhythm of footsteps and the quiet sounds of nature. The paved road slowly gave way to a more natural path, lined with trees and open stretches of land. Unlike their previous journey, there was no tension hanging in the air this time. The group walked at a steady pace, the morning sun warming their backs as they began their return toward Rostam.
Altair, as usual, broke the silence first."So… nothing's chasing us, no giant monsters, no ambush…" he said, glancing around lazily. "Feels weird."Eleos let out a small sigh. "You're disappointed, aren't you?""A little," Altair admitted with a grin.Arman shook his head lightly. "I'd rather keep it this way."Their conversation continued as they walked, occasionally slipping into light banter. For once, there was no urgency in their steps, no constant need to stay alert. Even Michio seemed more relaxed, occasionally exchanging jokes with his wives, the group's mood noticeably lighter compared to their journey before.
By the second day, the road had grown quieter. Fewer travelers passed by, and the surroundings became more open. During one of their breaks, Michio brought up something that had clearly been on his mind."Not all merchants in Ambrose are easy to deal with," he said, exhaling slightly. "Some of them tried to raise prices the moment they heard these supplies were for Rostam."Altair frowned. "Seriously? Even after you explained?"Michio nodded. "I told them it was for a town with limited trade access. That these supplies matter."Eleos' expression hardened slightly. "And they still tried to take advantage of it.""Some did," Michio replied calmly. "But not all. There are still decent people in that city."Arman listened quietly. Ambrose… just like the Guild Master said. Prosperous—but not without its shadows.
The journey continued into the second night, their camp set beneath a clear sky scattered with stars. The air was calm, the kind of calm that felt almost too perfect. No monsters approached. No suspicious figures lingered in the distance. Even the usual sounds of nocturnal creatures felt… distant. Altair, lying back with his hands behind his head, stared at the sky."This is starting to feel unnatural," he muttered.Eleos glanced at him. "Peaceful, you mean.""No," Altair replied. "Too peaceful."Arman didn't respond, but he understood. After everything they had experienced, the absence of danger felt more noticeable than danger itself.
On the third day, as the familiar outline of Rostam came into view, the road gradually filled with signs of life again. But something was different.
The moment they passed the outer boundary of the town, the first thing they noticed wasn't peace—
It was reconstruction.
Wooden scaffolding stood around partially rebuilt houses. Planks were stacked in uneven piles, tools scattered across the ground, and groups of townspeople worked together under the open sky. Some carried materials, others hammered structures into place, while a few simply tried to clear the remnants of what had been destroyed.
The damage from before was still visible.
But so was the effort to rebuild.
Altair let out a low whistle.
"...They're working fast."
Eleos watched quietly, her gaze softening slightly.
"They don't really have a choice."
Arman didn't say anything.
He simply observed.
This wasn't just repair.
This was survival.
Michio didn't waste any time.
The moment they entered deeper into the town, he led them straight toward the guild building. Several workers immediately noticed him, relief flashing across their faces.
"Michio's back!"
"Supplies are here!"
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Hope.
That was what his return brought.
Inside the guild, things became busy quickly. Crates were unloaded one by one—food, materials, tools—everything needed to keep the town moving forward. People moved with urgency, carefully organizing and distributing the supplies.
Michio let out a breath as the last crate was set down.
"That should cover things for a while," he said.
He then turned toward Arman, Altair, and Eleos.
"You've done your part."
A small pause.
"Thank you."
Arman nodded.
"That was the job."
Altair stretched his arms.
"Easy enough."
Eleos gave a small nod as well.
With that—
Their mission was complete.
But none of them left.
Outside, the town was still struggling to stand again.
And without needing to say anything—
They understood.
Eleos was the first to move.
She approached a group of older townspeople sitting near a partially repaired house. Some of them bore signs of exhaustion, others minor injuries that had clearly been left untreated.
She knelt beside them quietly.
"May I?"
A soft glow of mana gathered in her hands.
Warm.
Gentle.
Her healing magic spread slowly, easing pain, restoring strength little by little. The older residents visibly relaxed, their tense expressions softening as relief washed over them.
"Thank you…" one of them whispered.
Eleos simply nodded.
Arman moved next.
He walked toward a group struggling to stabilize a damaged wall. Without a word, he placed his hand against the ground.
Mana flowed.
Controlled.
Steady.
The earth responded.
Soil shifted, compacted, and rose where needed. Cracks filled, the foundation reinforced as the structure became stable once more. What would have taken hours—maybe longer—was completed in moments.
The workers stared for a second.
"...That helps a lot," one of them said.
Arman gave a small nod.
"It's nothing."
But he didn't stop there.
He moved from place to place, using Earth Forming to support rebuilding efforts—lifting, shaping, reinforcing.
Altair clicked his tongue as he watched them.
"...Guess I can't just stand around."
He turned and walked toward a group carrying heavy materials.
Without saying anything, he grabbed one side of a large wooden beam and lifted it with ease.
"Where does this go?"
The workers blinked in surprise.
"Ah—over there!"
Altair carried it effortlessly, setting it into place with precise movements. His speed made the work faster, smoother.
At times, he even disappeared briefly—reappearing moments later with tools or materials that would've taken others several trips to gather.
"…Okay, this is actually kind of fun," he muttered.
As the sun slowly began to set, the town of Rostam looked just a little more whole than it had that morning.
Not fully restored.
Not yet.
But better.
Stronger.
Because of everyone's efforts.
Arman stepped back, looking over the progress quietly.
Eleos finished tending to one last person before standing up.
Altair stretched his arms again.
"Alright… now I'm actually tired."
Arman let out a small breath.
"...Yeah."