Baldwin and Athan had been traveling for four days now. According to the carriage driver, it would take sixteen days in total to reach Crossroad City—and that was the fastest route. Their path wound through hilly roads and dense forests. The scenery was beautiful and tranquil. At times, birdsong filled the air; occasionally, wild sheep could be seen grazing among the distant slopes.
Baldwin lay stretched out inside the carriage, one arm casually draped over his eyes. Athan sat upright, gazing out of the window, his expression unreadable.
"So, Baldwin," Athan said, breaking the silence. "I've been thinking… I'm worried about our world. Especially your Empire."
"Worrying about things you can't change is pointless," Baldwin replied without moving.
"I know," Athan muttered. "Still, you came to the human territory to investigate something, didn't you?"
Baldwin gave a smug smile without lifting his head. "Well, I heard you came here for the same reason."
"Yes," Athan admitted. "I believe this has something to do with the followers of the War God. They're a forbidden group."
"Ah… the God of this, the God of that," Baldwin scoffed. "I don't care about any of it. All I care about is finding the real culprit."
"There are people—groups even—who do the dirty work of their gods. And then there are those who don't. We can't judge them all just because they worship some man-made deities," Athan said calmly.
"Do you even remember why this war started?" Baldwin asked, sitting up slowly. "Two thousand years. Countless people dead. Villages and cities erased. Generations lost. And for what? The answer is always the same—some made-up gods."
"Well… In war, no one's truly a hero or a villain," Athan said. "We're all just victims caught in a cycle of hatred."
Baldwin stood up and walked toward the carriage door. He opened it, glancing back at Athan.
"If I win this war, the first thing I'll do is destroy all the churches. They're not temples—they're breeding grounds for evil," Baldwin said, then stepped onto the carriage ladder, heading up toward the driver.
Athan let out a long sigh. "Even if you try to erase them… they'll erase you before you get the chance," he mumbled to himself.
The carriage sped along the winding path, the horses galloping at full pace. The driver, focused on the road ahead, didn't notice Baldwin climbing up until it was too late. Startled, he yanked the reins, bringing the carriage to an abrupt halt. The sudden stop sent the horses into a frenzy, and the entire carriage lurched—but Baldwin held firm, maintaining his balance with ease.
The driver turned sharply. He was just a boy, dressed in a worn brown robe, eyes wide with panic.
"Are you crazy?!" the boy yelled.
"You're the crazy one," Baldwin snapped, his voice dark. "You stopped the carriage without warning. Did you think I'd fall from something that minor? You could've thrown the whole thing off balance."
The boy's mouth opened to respond, but no words came.
Baldwin climbed up into the driver's seat beside the boy. He lightly slapped the boy's shoulder with a grin.
"Hey, you always keep your face hidden. We thought you were some random old man," Baldwin said, trying to lighten the mood. "So why'd you yell like that?"
"Um… nothing," the boy muttered. "Hmph." He turned back to fix the horses, then got them moving again.
"So, what's your name, kid?" Baldwin asked.
"You know we're the same age, right?" the boy shot back.
"Ah, my bad. I'm Baldwin. And you are?" Baldwin asked with a smirk.
"You've got a weird, heavy name," the boy said.
"Yeah, I got it from my mother… She used to have some high hopes for me," Baldwin replied.
"Used to? Why not anymore?" the boy asked curiously.
"She didn't make it. She passed away after I was born," Baldwin said, his voice flat but calm.
"…Sorry for asking," the boy mumbled. "You know what my parents named me?"
Baldwin looked at him. "What?"
"Spark," the boy said with a small grin.
"That's a great name, Spark," Baldwin replied, genuinely.
"So, can you tell me about Crossroad Academy? And the city itself?" Baldwin asked, leaning back slightly.
"Crossroad City's not that special—except for the academy," Spark said. "More than forty thousand students study there."
"Forty thousand?! That's a lot of students. Where do they all come from?" Baldwin asked.
Spark turned, raising an eyebrow. "Did your brain get reset or something?"
"Yeah," Baldwin said with a casual shrug. "I forgot everything."
"Poor thing," Spark said. "They come from all over the world. Almost every student lives there full-time."
"I see. That's impressive," Baldwin nodded. "So who rules the city?"
"Well, technically, Crossroad City belongs to all four neighboring states. It sits right on the border of each of them," Spark explained. "So if you're asking who rules it… it has an independent mayor and a principal who runs the academy."
"Thanks, Spark. That's helpful," Baldwin said, rising to leave. "Oh, and next time—don't stop the carriage like that."
He stepped down from the seat and returned inside, leaving Spark to guide the carriage forward with a quiet scoff and a faint smile.
After Baldwin stepped back inside the carriage, Athan looked up.
"So, the day's ending. That makes five days on the road," Athan said.
"Yeah," Baldwin replied, settling into his seat. "The boy will stop the carriage soon."
"Boy? What boy?" Athan raised an eyebrow.
"The carriage driver. He's just a kid," Baldwin said, reclining casually.
A few hours earlier, far from Baldwin and Athan…
Mara had wandered across a seemingly abandoned cave nestled deep in the hills—but it wasn't lifeless.
Inside, the scene was grim. Young girls and beautiful women were tied up in a corner, their faces stained with tears and dirt. On the other side of the cave, sacks of food—rice, bread, dried meat—were neatly stacked. A few silver and gold coins glimmered under the faint torchlight.
Mara stood silently at the entrance, her eyes scanning everything.
What… is this? she thought.
She approached one of the tied-up women. The woman lifted her head, desperation in her eyes.
"Help me! Please, help us—they're going to sell us in the slave market!" she cried out.
Mara paused. She recognized this expression—the terror, the helplessness.
This expression… Humans make this face when they're in danger? What could possibly be more dangerous to them than me? Than my kind? Mara wondered.
"I'll help," Mara said. "But how?"
"Untie us! Please—let us run!" the woman begged.
Without a word, Mara began untying them. Her long fingers moved precisely, releasing one woman after another.
But then, a man emerged from the shadows. He was gaunt and scarred, with a twisted grin. His presence reeked of rot and cruelty.
"Bitch! Who the hell are you?!" he spat.
Mara didn't even glance at him. She continued untying the last woman.
"You dare ignore me?! Are you deaf?!" the man shouted. He drew a rusted sword and lunged toward her.
The women screamed and scattered in a panic. But the man—he froze mid-swing. His body locked in place, unmoving. Not even his eyes could shift.
The final woman escaped the cave, leaving only Mara and the immobilized man.
Moments later, a few more thugs entered, drawn by the commotion.
"Who the hell are you?!" one of them barked.
"Looks like this one will sell for a good price," another sneered.
"Hey! Can't you hear me?!"
"Hah! She's ignoring you? Let me show you how we teach these things to obey." The second man stepped forward.
But before he could reach her, he too froze in place—paralyzed, like the first.
The third man blinked, confused. "Wait… why aren't they moving?"
Something was clearly wrong. He lunged at Mara.
And froze mid-step.
A black wave erupted from Mara's feet, rippling across the cave floor like liquid shadow. One by one, it swallowed them whole.
Then she turned toward the food stockpile. The same thing happened—consumed by the dark.
She walked to the pile of coins. Gone.
Without a word, Mara's body began to dissolve into a black, swirling substance, as if melting into the very shadows around her.
When it cleared, the cave stood completely silent—empty and pure. As though nothing… and no one… had ever been there.