The first thing Takemi noticed wasn't the pain.
It was the quiet.
A deep, controlled silence—one that wrapped around the room like a carefully drawn curtain.
The royal infirmary was nothing like the academy's medical wing.
Here, everything felt… deliberate.
Tall windows lined the walls, their glass tinted faintly with alchemical treatment that softened the sunlight into a gentle glow. White curtains drifted slightly with the passing breeze, carrying with them the scent of crushed herbs and purified oils.
The bed beneath him was firm but forgiving, layered with clean linen so fine it barely rustled when he shifted.
Even the air—
Felt… expensive.
"…So this is where nobles recover…"
Then it came.
A deep ache spread across his body the moment he tried to sit up.
Not sharp.
Not blinding.
But heavy.
As if his body remembered something it shouldn't have survived.
"…Tch…"
Bandages tightened slightly around his torso as he moved. His muscles protested, but they held.
He turned his head.
Rauk.
Still unconscious.
His massive frame wrapped in layers of cloth, parts of his arm reinforced with splints.
Even so—
He looked like he might wake up swinging.
Lira.
Her face was calm—but her brows twitched slightly.
Like she was trapped in something unseen.
Elira.
Takemi stopped.
She looked the worst.
Her skin pale.
Her breathing shallow but steady.
Her hands—
Still trembling faintly.
"…Damn it…"
The memory came back in pieces—
Veyrith.
No—
Before that.
"…The wolves…"
They weren't normal.
They changed.
Empowered.
Stronger.
Faster.
And behind them—
Watching.
Veyrith.
Takemi's hand tightened against the sheets.
"…It tested us…"
Click.
The door opened quietly.
A man entered.
Dressed in dark formal attire trimmed with gold.
His presence was calm—
But absolute.
Two guards remained outside the door.
Unmoving.
Silent.
Takemi straightened slightly despite the pain.
"…Your Majesty."
King Aldric Velnar stepped forward.
His gaze swept the room—not quickly, not carelessly.
He looked at each bed.
Each wound.
Each breath.
Measured.
"…You're awake."
His voice was steady—but there was something beneath it.
Concern.
He moved first—not to Takemi.
But to Elira.
He stood beside her bed briefly.
Watching.
"…Her mana channels are unstable…"
A quiet murmur—almost to himself.
Then to Lira.
"…Mental strain…"
Then to Rauk.
"…Heavy impact trauma… but stable."
Only then—
Did he turn to Takemi.
"…And you pushed beyond your limit."
Not an accusation.
An observation.
He pulled a chair.
Sat across from him.
Close enough to speak quietly.
"…Tell me."
"…What happened?"
Takemi exhaled slowly.
"…We followed the guild request."
"…Southern trade route… destroyed caravan…"
He described everything.
The broken wagon.
The blood.
The silence of the forest.
The King listened.
Without interruption.
"…Then it appeared."
Takemi continued.
"…A humanoid."
"…Mask… cracked… body… half… consumed…"
A pause.
"…It introduced itself."
The King's eyes sharpened slightly.
"…Then—"
"…It empowered the wolves."
The King leaned forward just slightly.
"…Empowered?"
"…Yes."
Takemi's voice lowered.
"…They changed mid-fight… stronger than before… coordinated…"
"…Like they were being… directed."
"…Then it gave its name."
Silence.
"…Veyrith."
Everything stopped.
The King's expression—
Shifted.
His eyes widened.
Not in fear.
But in recognition.
"…That name…"
His voice dropped.
"…So it's real…"
He leaned back slowly.
"…We thought it was nothing more than a myth…"
Takemi frowned.
"…You know it?"
The King looked at him again.
This time—
More serious.
"…I know the story."
"…Long ago…"
The King began.
"…There were whispers of something sealed beneath this world."
"…Something not meant to awaken."
The room felt colder.
"…And serving that entity…"
A pause.
"…Were five."
Takemi stayed silent.
Listening.
"…Five commanders."
"…Each one… not just powerful…"
"…But absolute in their role."
"…Veyrith…"
The King continued quietly.
"…Was said to be the fifth."
"…The lowest among them…"
A pause.
"…The Messenger."
Takemi's eyes narrowed.
"…Lowest…?"
"…Yes."
The King's voice remained steady.
"…The one who observes."
"…The one who confirms."
"…The one who ensures… that what comes next is worthy of arrival."
"…And the other four?" Takemi asked.
The King's gaze shifted slightly.
"…There are records."
"…Incomplete."
"…Fragments."
"…But enough to know this—"
A pause.
"…If the Messenger is moving…"
His voice dropped.
"…Then the others are not far behind."
"…Why hasn't anyone spoken of this before?" Takemi asked.
The King's answer came immediately.
"…Because no one survives long enough to tell it."
Silence.
Heavy.
Takemi hesitated.
"…It mentioned something else…"
The King looked back at him.
"…A prophecy."
A longer silence this time.
"…And you don't know what it means."
"…No."
The King exhaled slowly.
"…Then it's as I feared…"
"…You've stepped into something far beyond what you were meant to face this early."
Takemi glanced at the weapon beside him.
"…This…"
"…It reacted…"
"…But I couldn't control it fully."
The King nodded.
"…That weapon…"
"…Is not meant to be used lightly."
"…Nor easily."
The King stood.
But before speaking further—
He looked once more at the others.
"…Your team…"
"…They're alive."
A pause.
"…That alone speaks of your strength."
Takemi looked away slightly.
"…It doesn't feel like it."
"…Strength…"
The King turned toward him.
"…Is not measured by victory alone."
"…But by what you protect."
"…For now…"
"…You rest."
"…All of you."
A pause.
"…And when they wake…"
His gaze hardened slightly.
"…We will decide how to move forward."
The King stepped toward the door.
But before leaving—
He stopped.
"…Takemi."
Takemi looked up.
"…If what you said is true…"
A pause.
"…Then this is no longer just your battle."
The door opened.
"…It is ours."
And with that—
He left.
Leaving behind—
A room filled with survivors.
And a truth that had just begun to surface.