Shirotsume was alive with color, sound, and motion. The streets bustled with merchants haggling over prices, townsfolk gossiping, and travelers moving from one place to another.
Lacrima-powered lanterns lined the streets, casting a warm glow over the cobblestone roads. The scent of freshly baked bread, sizzling meat, and burning coal mingled in the air, making my stomach grumble.
"Man, this place is straight out of a fantasy novel."
The smell of grilled meat and fresh bread wrapped around me, making my stomach twist in betrayal.
"Right. Forgot I haven't eaten yet."
"How much?" I asked, stepping up to a nearby stall.
The vendor, a portly man with a kind face, sized me up. "Four jewels a stick. Freshly made!"
I flipped him a coin and took one. The first bite was smoky, juicy perfection.
"Okay, food in Earthland? Top tier."
"You new in town?" the vendor asked, watching me curiously.
"Something like that," I said between bites.
He grinned. "A mage?"
"Yep."
"Ah. Well, if you need a place to stay, the Silver Hearth Inn is your best bet.
I made a mental note of the name. "Appreciate it."
With my stomach no longer staging a rebellion, I let myself take in more of Shirotsume's charm.
A group of kids ran past me, kicking a ball between them. One miscalculated, sending it straight into my shin.
"Oof—sorry, mister!" a little girl said, wide-eyed.
I picked up the ball and tossed it back with a smirk. "Try aiming next time."
She grinned, and the kids took off again.
As I walked on, I found myself in front of a forge, I was immediately fascinated by it as it my first time seeing one.
The rhythmic clang of metal rang through the air as the blacksmith—a broad, bald man with arms like tree trunks—worked a glowing sword.
He barely glanced up as I stepped closer. "You just here to watch, or you looking for something?"
"Just admiring the craftsmanship," I said.
He grunted, plunging the sword into a trough of water with a loud hiss.
I didn't linger too much less risk the ire of this blacksmith.
By the time I reached the Silver Hearth Inn, the sky was painted in deep oranges and purples. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of roasted meat, ale, and burning firewood.
The innkeeper, a bearded man with calloused hands, eyed me as I approached the counter.
"Looking for a drink, a meal, or a bed?"
"All three," I said, dropping a few coins.
He handed me a key. "Second floor, last door on the left. Dinner's stew—best in town."
"Appreciate it."
Finding a spot in the corner, I dug into my meal. Thick broth, tender meat, and root vegetables. Simple but good.
A conversation at a nearby table caught my ear.
"Another caravan ambushed."
"That's the third this week."
"Vulcans. But smarter. Organizing. That ain't natural."
I scooped up another spoonful of stew, chewing thoughtfully. Smarter Vulcans? That's new.
It was concerning, sure, but not my problem—at least, not yet. I had bigger priorities than playing exterminator for aggressive monkeys. Still, if they were evolving, it could mean something was messing with the natural order.
I leaned back in my chair, finishing off the last of my meal. Eh. If it becomes my problem, I'll deal with it then.
Pushing the thoughts aside for the moment, I finished my meal and made my way upstairs to my room. It was simple—a sturdy wooden bed, a small desk, and a washbasin in the corner—but it was enough. The faint glow of moonlight filtered through the single window, casting soft shadows across the room.
Seated on the edge of the bed, I opened the Celestial Inventory, scrolling through its endless catalog. The names of weapons, enchanted armor, potions, and rare artifacts blurred together as I scanned for something useful. My fingers hovered over a section labeled "Knowledge," and I made a mental note to explore it further later.
Leaning back on the bed, I allowed myself a moment to reflect, piecing together everything I had learned so far. The sights and sounds of Shirotsume, the whispers of danger in the air, and the chilling mention of Vulcans evolving into smarter, more organized hunters—it all painted a picture of a world in flux. But one revelation stood out above all else, anchoring my thoughts.
The year was X770.
I inhaled sharply as the realization sank in. X770—a pivotal point in this world's timeline. Seven years before the arrival of the Dragon Slayers, those children pulled from time, and thirteen years before the events of canon would begin to unfold. This was no mere coincidence; this was an opportunity.
I sat forward, a slow grin spreading across my face. Seven years. Thirteen years. Plenty of time. Enough to prepare, to fortify, to reshape the future into something stronger, something better.
I had barely drifted off when the alarm bells rang through the night.
Loud. Urgent.
I was on my feet in an instant, instincts kicking in. Shouts echoed from the streets below, followed by the distinct sound of splintering wood and terrified screams. Rushing to the window, I threw it open.
Chaos.
Fires flickered in the distance, casting jagged shadows against the stone walls of Shirotsume. Townspeople ran for cover while armored guards scrambled to form a defense. And in the center of it all—Vulcans.
Not just one or two.
Dozens.
Their hulking figures rampaged through the streets, knocking over market stalls, tearing into buildings, and tossing aside anyone who got too close. This wasn't random. This wasn't instinct-driven aggression.
This was an organized attack.
"Well, damn."
I pulled on my coat, my mind already racing. My weapons—I'd need them.
Taking a breath, I reached into my Celestial Inventory. I had drawn weapons from it before, but this was different. This wasn't just picking a tool. This was calling them.
The response was immediate.
Ebony. Ivory. Rebellion.
I felt the pull, the weight of them materializing in my grip. Cold steel. Perfect balance. It was like shaking hands with old friends.
In my right hand, Ebony, sleek and deadly. In my left, Ivory, quick and precise. And on my back, the unmistakable weight of Rebellion, a greatsword that pulsed with raw power.
"Now we're talking."
Just as I reached for the door handle—
CRASH!
The entire front wall of the inn exploded inward.
I ducked as debris rained down, rolling back onto my feet just in time to see a Vulcan step through the wreckage.
Huge. Muscle-bound. Teeth bared in a wicked grin.
Its red eyes locked onto me.
"Of course it's me you notice."
It lunged. Fast for its size.
I sidestepped, raising Ebony and Ivory—and fired.
Twin shots rang out, searing through the night. The bullets struck true, forcing the Vulcan back with a pained roar. It wasn't enough to drop it, but it bought me space.
The innkeeper shouted from below. "Boy! If you're gonna fight, do it outside!"
"Right, right. My bad."
With a quick dash, I kicked off the splintered remains of the wall and leapt outside, landing smoothly on the cobblestone street. The Vulcan roared behind me, crashing through the rest of the building like a wrecking ball.
The town was in full-blown panic mode.
Guards fought to contain the beasts, but they were struggling. Some were already down, groaning in pain, while others barely held their ground. Townsfolk ran for safety, ducking into alleys and whatever shelter they could find.
I rolled my shoulders, then reached back.
Rebellion.
Steel met moonlight as I drew the massive blade, the weight familiar, the power undeniable.
The first Vulcan charged.
I met it head-on.
My blade cleaved through the air in a wide arc, the force behind it overwhelming. Steel met flesh—resistance, then release. The Vulcan howled as Rebellion carved deep, sending it crashing to the ground.
Something was definitely off. Normal Vulcans fought with raw power, mindless and wild. These? They had intent. Strategy.
And that was bad news.
Two more closed in, working together, flanking me.
"Oh, great. They do work in packs now."
I gritted my teeth, flipping Ebony in my grip. "Alright, you oversized baboons—let's dance."
With that, I charged into the fray.