Ashes and Whispers
Flames danced across the sky, devouring the city whole.
Those who resisted, those who surrendered and knelt—all met their end beneath the fire.
This place had once been a small, peaceful rural village on the southwest edge of Roire.
In summer, the sky was thick with stars; in autumn, the golden wheat fields swayed like waves of light.
But that beautiful sight was gone forever.
The flames, which had seemed destined to burn eternally, finally slept only when the summer rains arrived.
In the silence that followed the fading cries and wails, a stranger stepped forward.
Samuel walked the ruined street, his black footprints stretching long behind him.
Wearing a gray hood, he moved between death and decay like a Grim Reaper.
When he arrived, the city had already been reduced to rubble by the Rotinzel army.
The only feeling that remained on his skin was the oppressive gloom death itself had left behind.
“Even here….”
Samuel’s voice trailed off, heavy with sorrow.
He ventured deep into the ruins, hoping to find any survivors.
Yet he had already understood that no life remained. Hope was a cruel illusion.
“Uwaaaaaah!”
Near the village center, a faint infant’s cry reached him.
Following the sound, he found a young woman collapsed in a kitchen.
The place she had desperately tried to shield led to a small storeroom.
Inside, a toddler no more than three was sobbing.
“You protected her until the very last moment.”
Samuel imagined the scene clearly—the mother hiding the child before the Rotinzel soldiers had come.
The child’s hunger drove the cries. Samuel gathered grains of wheat from the enemy’s discarded pile and placed them in a battered pot.
Even that was a stroke of fortune, since the Rotinzel forces had taken every metal pot and fork.
He kindled a fire to boil the porridge. The summer heat was already unbearable, but the flames added even more warmth.
He let the hood slip back, revealing a pale youth with black hair and black eyes.
Tiredness had carved deep shadows beneath his eyes.
When the porridge was ready, he carefully fed it to the child’s lips.
The little one ate with fierce hunger, then coughed, staining the clothes.
Yet Samuel showed no disgust, only continued to care for the child.
When the food was gone, the infant fell asleep in his arms.
Samuel carried the child out of the devastated village.
***
Hode, the God of Darkness and Redemption, was not widely known.
The temple priests of Hode lived deep in the mountains, cutting themselves off from the world.
Those who had completed their training and left the order traveled the lands, helping people as part of their penance.
The duration could be as short as a year or as long as ten.
A true disciple performed good deeds without expecting reward, especially not material gain.
The only possession they carried was their own body.
Because Hode was also the God of Warriors, the priests were skilled in martial arts.
Many had mastered the sword, yet using that power to wound another violated the rules.
Samuel Areola, barely twenty years old this year, was a newly graduated training priest who had begun wandering Bluisol.
When spring arrived, the war broke out.
Countless tragedies had occurred in the meantime.
Whole villages had been wiped out by the Rotinzel invasion.
Corpses swollen with maggots were burned or buried, and doubts always lingered.
Some citizens had even become bandits, attacking their own people.
War had turned the world into something far darker.
Only rarely did a small scouting band appear; Samuel would defend the village for a few days, but staying put eventually meant suffering.
He had learned the limits of his strength.
“Please take care of this child.”
He entrusted the orphan to a nearby temple of Mercy, where war orphans were raised.
Alone again, Samuel returned to Mount Yver, his home.
The rules forbade meddling in the outside world while the war raged.
“What did you see?”
Father Jules, the High Priest, asked.
“People suffering.”
“That is enough. Until the war ends, you must remain in training.”
“Why do you speak of the war as if it were someone else’s matter, High Priest?”
“That is the will of Hode.”
“The priests of Hode possess great power.”
“The god we serve is the God of Redemption. We, who are sinners, only cleanse our bodies and minds. We have no place in the affairs of the world.”
Father Jules spoke calmly, yet Samuel could not accept it.
“Out there, a child younger than me is holding a sword to protect his family. I could only watch, and that is the rule.
Do not kill. Help others, but do not become entangled in worldly matters.
If you simply do not stain your hands with blood, is it truly clean?”
Samuel hated hiding in the mountains like a saint, playing at piety.
“Is what Hode truly desires this—hiding in the mountains praying for the storm to pass? Is that the penance of his priests?”
He shouted, voice breaking.
“That is the rule.”
Father Jules left without another word.
Samuel stared at the empty wall for a long time.
***
“Mount Yver. To think a temple exists in such a place—it’s hard to believe.”
Ethan looked surprised. The mountain’s rugged slopes made it astonishing that people lived there, yet a temple?
“A priest of Hode would not lie.”
“What kind of god is this Hode that the priests of that place serve?”
The answer came from Ines.
Ethan, who thought the other knights would know, cleared his throat and began to show off his knowledge.
He glanced at Ines in confusion when she simply replied.
“When I was a child, I often saw people praying to Hode in the village where I lived. I don’t know the details.”
Ines finished her sentence under the intense gaze of the others.
“Nael snorted. “But you were a child back then. Where did you live as a child? What kind of remote village had such priests?”
Nael’s question broke Ines’s usual calm expression for the first time.
She quickly hid her surprise.
“It was just a small village.”
“Hmm, suspicious. Why are you so determined to hide your childhood?”
“There was nothing special about it, so I had nothing to say.”
Nael leaned in close, resting his chin on his hand. Ines raised her shield to block him.
“Step back. It makes me uncomfortable.”
He retreated, grumbling.
“Tch. Always hiding secrets.”
The group was about to move when Heini suddenly shouted.
“Wait!”
She pressed her ear to the ground.
“Those are footsteps.”
The wild girl was as keen as any knight.
“I’ll go scout.”
She dashed off before anyone could stop her.
A moment later she returned at full speed.
“Hide quickly!”
“Why? Are they enemies? We can fight them.”
“Don’t ask questions. Just hide.”
Heini snapped at Nael. Jeanne gestured for the knights to follow her lead.
They ducked behind trees and rocks. Even Nael flattened himself in the underbrush.
A short while later, a Rotinzel unit marched past. Their numbers were impressive.
“With that many, we wouldn’t stand a chance….”
Dane muttered, troubled.
This was no small scouting band. They were properly armed and organized, clearly aiming to conquer a city.
Facing them head-on would be impossible, no matter how strong Jeanne’s knights were.
Heini suddenly pointed. “They’re heading in our direction!”
She clapped a hand over her mouth, barely suppressing a cry.
The unit passed right by. Jeanne clenched her fists, forcing herself not to rush out.
***
In front of Mount Yver lay Yver Territory, a sizable domain for a mountain village. The special herb Yverpin grew there.
This rare plant cleared the mind and reduced fever. It was used as both a fever medicine and an aid for those who needed sharp focus—artists, craftsmen, healers, snipers.
Unlike narcotics, it had no side effects and was only mildly addictive.
While rare elsewhere, it grew in thick clusters on Mount Yver. The territory had prospered by harvesting and trading it.
Aaron, stationed in Roire, had not advanced toward Iléa even with Haerys leading reinforcements.
There was no rival like Nicolas, and the danger of facing Iléa was unnecessary. He simply dreamed of plundering Rotinzel resources and treasures.
The army sent to Yver Territory was part of that plan—seize the land and secure the Yverpin harvest. As users of firearms, they could not only sell the herb but also use it to supply their soldiers.
Jeanne’s group moved ahead, entering Yver Territory first. Knowing the terrain better than anyone, they gained a clear advantage.
“How long until the Rotinzel army arrives?”
“Considering our speed difference, two days at most.”
Ethan answered.
Jeanne met the lord of Yver Territory and warned him of the approaching enemy.
She ordered the accompanying knights to defend the land.
“Then we three will climb the mountain to find the Hode temple.”
Jeanne, Fabian, and Ethan began the ascent.