Sixteen days had passed since the announcement of the world peace treaty. The village, once an isolated and quiet place, had changed beyond recognition. Markets bustled with new faces, buildings were being constructed, and the air was thick with the murmur of uncertain hope. But peace was never truly peaceful.
While some rejoiced, others worried. Sons and husbands were still missing—either caught in the aftermath of war or lost to the ravages of Homa disease. Even the highest-tier healing spells had failed to save many. Anxiety lingered beneath the surface, a silent storm in the hearts of the people.
Balwin, however, remained the same. He continued hunting crystals, earning money—not for himself, but for Olivia and Velisara. Though Velisara had given him pocket money, he had little use for it.
Today, he wandered through the market, observing the changes. Amidst the bustling stalls, a small cart caught his attention. A boy, just a few inches shorter than Balwin, stood behind it, selling sweet potatoes.
Balwin approached him. "How much for one?"
The boy glanced up. His features were sharp, but his expression was tired. "I don'to sello one pieceo. Fiveo is four silver Roino," he said.
Balwin raised an eyebrow. "You're not from around here, are you?" He reached for his coin pouch. "Alright, give me five."
The boy nodded, quickly wrapping up the order. "Yes, I am not from hereo. I am from a little far awayot. So how do youto?"
Balwin smirked. "Your way of speaking—it's different. You add 'o' and 'to' to a lot of words. It's not grammatically correct." He chuckled softly. "But it sounds cute."
The boy let out an awkward laugh, unsure if he was being teased or complimented.
Balwin leaned against the cart. "So, why are you so far from home?"
The boy hesitated for a moment before answering. "Actuallyot… my mom is sicko, and my fathero wento to war. Me and mine sistero… we live aloneot."
Balwin's smirk faded. He exhaled, glancing at the village around them—so much change, yet so many struggles remained.
"That's rough," he said, slipping the wrapped sweet potatoes into his bag. "I hope things get better for you soon."
"Ameenu," the boy replied, bowing his head slightly in gratitude.
The marketplace was teeming with energy. Merchants from all over the continent had gathered, their banners and stalls boasting exotic goods and rare commodities. It was surprising how many businessmen from different nations had arrived. Among them were representatives of JJQ Industries from the Elf Kingdom, as well as a delegation of Dark Elves—an unusual sight.
Dark Elves and Light Elves had been mortal enemies for centuries before the Great War of 2000 years ago. Balwin didn't know much about them, only that their kingdom was small and no longer shared borders with the Elf Kingdom. Instead, they neighbored the Xing Fu Empire and the Spirit Kingdom.
As he wandered through the crowd, taking in the unfamiliar faces and foreign goods, someone suddenly bumped into him.
A loud, irritated voice followed.
"Little brat!!! You ruined my clothes! Now pay the price or work for me!"
Balwin turned to see a rotund man dressed in ostentatious blue and pink robes. His many rings gleamed in the sunlight, and from the way he carried himself, it was clear—this man was rich.
Balwin dusted himself off, raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me? You were the one who bumped into me."
The man's face twisted in anger. "You dare talk back to me, commoner?" He raised his hand, about to slap Balwin.
But before he could, Balwin effortlessly stepped back, avoiding the strike.
The man's expression darkened. "You dare step back when I'm willing to teach you a lesson?" He snapped his fingers. "Guards!"
Almost instantly, several guards surrounded Balwin, drawing their weapons—swords, hammers, arrows, and daggers, all imbued with beast energy. Low-tier beast weapons, but still dangerous in the hands of trained fighters.
The crowd began to murmur, curiosity and anticipation filling the air.
"You have no idea who you're offending," one of the guards sneered. "This man is the Lord of Greengaye City—one of the wealthiest cities in the empire."
"Is that so?" Balwin crossed his arms. "Well, his personality sucks."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"You brat! You dare mock me?!" the fat man roared, his face turning red with rage.
Just then, a voice cut through the commotion.
"Do you really need beast weapons just to deal with a kid?"
The crowd parted as a tall man in a flowing black robe stepped forward. His face was concealed by a mask, his presence exuding an air of quiet authority.
"And does the kid even need a lesson in the first place?" the masked man continued.
With a smooth motion, he removed his mask.
The sight left the onlookers stunned.
A strikingly beautiful face was revealed—long black hair cascading in the air, and piercing crimson eyes that glowed faintly under the sunlight.
It was none other than Athan.
Balwin stood frozen, his breath catching in his throat.
Athan…?
It had been decades—nearly forty years—since they had last seen each other. Back then, they had been more than comrades; they had been friends.
Yet, as Athan stood before him, unchanged, untouched by time, his crimson eyes held no recognition.
Balwin let out a quiet chuckle. Of course, he doesn't recognize me.
"After all," he muttered under his breath, "I used the Shadow Transformation skill."
His aura had shifted. His appearance, his voice—everything was different. He was someone new.
A smug smile tugged at Balwin's lips. He'll never know.
"Hey, kid, why are you spacing out?" Athan's sharp, amused voice cut through his thoughts.
Balwin quickly masked his emotions. "Nothing, Mr."
Athan arched an eyebrow but didn't press further.
Before the tension could settle, a haughty scoff echoed through the marketplace.
"Well, well, look what we have here," sneered the nobleman, adjusting his gaudy blue-pink robes. "A vampire from the Xing Fu Empire, no doubt?"
Athan's expression darkened. His jaw tensed, lips curling slightly.
"So what if I am?" he said coldly. "Do you have a problem with that?"
His crimson eyes burned, radiating a deep, suffocating pressure.
The nobleman's guards stiffened, their grips tightening around their weapons.
The air grew thick.
A fight was seconds from breaking out.
Then—
"Hey! Please don't fight!"
A strong yet melodic voice rang out from the crowd.
Heads turned as a Dark Elf stepped forward.
She was tall and elegant, her smooth obsidian skin gleaming under the sun. Long silver hair cascaded down her back, framing her sharp, violet eyes.
The nobleman's guards hesitated.
Then—they turned on her.
Balwin's eyes narrowed.
They're going to attack her, too.
The first guard shifted—
BANG!
A gunshot tore through the air.
Silence.
The crowd froze.
Then, a commanding voice followed.
"Everyone. Stop."
All eyes snapped toward the edge of the scene.
A man stood there, smoke curling from the barrel of a strange beast weapon.
His presence alone made the guards flinch.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"It's Mr. Smith…"
His gaze swept across them, piercing and unwavering.
"Everyone is dismissed." His voice held no room for argument. "This matter will be handled by the authority of this city."
A tense pause.
Then, one by one, the crowd began to disperse.
The fight never happened.
But Balwin knew—this wasn't over.