(Garen's Point of View)
I was slogging through patrol reports—a tedious duty I despised but one that came with being Captain—when the guard post door burst open. Pietro, my son's friend, rushed in, breathless, his glasses askew, his face pale, and his eyes wide behind fogged lenses. I'd never seen him so agitated; he usually moved with the deliberate calm of a seasoned scholar.
"Captain Garen!" he gasped, leaning against the doorframe to catch his breath. "You have to find Lexo! Now!"
I sprang to my feet, abandoning the paperwork. "What is it, Pietro? Is Lexo hurt?"
"No, not hurt—but… there's someone! A shadow… it warned me about the eggs Lexo found. It said they must be returned to the forest tonight, or there will be consequences. And it even knows my name, Captain! It knows about my family!" The urgency and genuine fear in his voice were unmistakable.
A shadow. Eggs. Consequences. The old seer's warning. The incident with the Shadow Bird. They all converged in my mind with a sinking feeling. Lexo—what trouble has he gotten himself into this time?
"Thom, sound the alarm! Gather all available guards!" I barked to the young recruit beside me, whose face went pale as he obeyed instantly. The harsh clang of the town's bell shattered the afternoon calm. I strode out of the office, gripping my sword so tightly my knuckles ached.
"Pietro, stay here. You'll be safer," I ordered, though my mind was already racing elsewhere. I pulled a small, smooth, carved diamond from an inner pocket—my Calling Crystal, a relic from our days as the Great Four. Squeezing it tight, I channeled a bit of my Fire energy into it. For a moment, it flared an intense orange before dimming, yet I sensed a faint, pulsing resonance from three directions. They would come.
I glanced toward the forest bordering our town; the sun was beginning to dip behind the trees, painting the sky in the hues of dusk. A deep unease churned in my stomach. The eggs—what kind of objects were they to attract such dangerous attention? First, I had to protect Lexo; that was my top priority. But afterwards… afterwards, we'd have a serious talk about why he meddled with things he shouldn't, about the treasure some strange seer warned him about, and about how the Adventurers' Guild evaluates such finds—and why some things are best left alone.
The thought of the Guild lingered in my mind, no longer just an abstract concept. Perhaps it was time to propose an official branch here in Serene Village—a legitimate base of operations with access to information, resources… and an extra layer of protection for Lexo under the Guild's neutral banner. We, the retired Great Four, could run it ourselves. It would be perfect—except for one detail. Establishing a new branch would require regional Guild approval, and that meant dealing with Gustav—my father, the old fox who runs the Guild with an iron fist and a sprawling network that makes my skin crawl. I'd sooner pull out my own fingernails than have him sticking his nose in here, especially with Lexo being… whatever Lexo is. No, there had to be another way. But right now, my priority was finding my son and neutralizing any threat.
(Lexo's Point of View)
My grounding was over, but the unease about the eggs—and that old woman's warning—still clung to me. I decided I needed to clear my head and, maybe, understand my own powers better. It was time for some serious meditation, something I'd been postponing.
I sat in the backyard under the tree where Dad used to train. Closing my eyes, I tried to reach that calm state Mom always described. My main focus was [Chronos]—that terrifying yet fascinating ability. How could I train it? I'd tried mini time pauses—barely a fraction of a second—to dodge chores or hide from Lila during our games. But she always found me. "How?" I once asked her, frustrated. She just tilted her head and said, "Lexo, you smell different when you do 'that'." Different smell? I bathe daily with Lyra's special herbal soap, which she claims "treats your skin like another muscle." What scent could that be? Perhaps a subtle distortion of mana that only she could sense? I needed to know.
I absentmindedly studied two small lemons that had fallen from the tree and recalled my curiosity about Lyra's magic. I'd once asked her how she created ice if her element was Water. Calmly, she had replied, "I simply control water's kinetic energy—slow it down until it becomes ice or speed it up until it turns to steam. Ice isn't an element in itself; it's a more primordial manifestation." Strange. I'd thought ice was just cold water. Elemental magic is more complex than I imagined.
My meditation on Chronos wasn't yielding results, so I switched gears. I pulled out my wooden sword and recalled Dad's stances, his fluid movements. But I wanted more—could I combine it with my Fire affinity? Concentrating, I channeled mana into the blade. A small orange flame, like a candle's flicker, ignited at its tip. Good. Then, recalling Dad's controlled intensity, I forced more energy, compressing it mentally. The flame flickered from orange to a bright blue, and then—with extra effort—turned almost white-cyan. I did it! But the cost was steep—the MP meter dropped by 5 MP per second. It was powerful; the wood around the cyan flame began to smoke. Clearly, it wasn't sustainable in a real fight… for now.
So absorbed was I in stabilizing that flame that I didn't notice Pietro approach until he startled me, instantly extinguishing it.
"Lexo, what… is that blue flame?" he asked, blinking in confusion before shaking his head. "Forget it. It doesn't matter now. Lexo, where did you bury the… treasure?"
Recovering from the shock, I replied, "The eggs? Oh, they're in the yard, near the old shed. They're safe. Borin usually naps around there—he'd scare anyone off if they got too close. At least, when he's not at the tavern or trying to 'conquer' the baker's daughter."
Pietro's face was drawn with tension. "We have to return them to the forest, Lexo! Urgently! Right now!"
Before I could ask why, a deafening CRRAAAAASH!! echoed from the other side of the house, followed by a guttural roar that wasn't human.
We both raced toward the sound. The backyard fence lay shattered, and in the middle of the lawn—where Borin had been dozing moments earlier—stood a monstrous figure. It was humanoid but grotesquely muscular, with gray, leathery skin and… six gnarled arms. Two of its arms blocked the downward swing of the blonde giant's enormous war axe, and the creature grinned, its mouth full of razor-sharp teeth.
"Borin!" I shouted.
Borin struggled against the beast's impossible strength, muscles straining to their limit. Catching sight of us from the corner of his eye, he barked, "Lexo!" in a gruff tone, his fighting grin unwavering. "I'm a bit busy right now, kid! I'll play with you later, tadpole!"
The monster let out a guttural laugh and, without missing a beat, shoved Borin with tremendous force, sending him stumbling several steps back. At the same time, it slammed its massive hand against the fence, shattering it completely. This wasn't a game. It was serious—a fierce battle was about to erupt.