As Redmond checked all the necessities he would leave the village with, and one last glance at the old buildings, he was greeted with a face plastered with a smile.

"Brother Redmond! Remember me?" a cheerful voice asked.

The priest was almost tripped as he stepped backward. The sheer energy the young man radiated from his greeting alone was brighter than the divine magic itself.

Redmond tilted his head to the side. How could he forget such warmth and genuineness of a smile as his? "Oren the miner's son."

"Yes! I know I am recognizable!"

"Indeed, you are." Redmond gave him a faint smile, examining the man in gears he had never seen him equipped before. "This is not your usual attire nor route for mining. Are you perhaps out foraging?"

Oren winked back as an affirmation. He seemed proud of the rough leathered chest plate he wore and a short sword by his side. "Certainly— with you."

"Grier sent you, perhaps?"

"You mean the knight captain, then, yes." The young man walked closer to the priest and offered to carry his not so many supplies. "He told me it would be dangerous for you to go alone, especially since you are a holy man. Thieves and all would want to do terrible things to you."

Redmond sighed with a smile behind. Oh, Grier, doing unnecessary favors again. Understanding so, the priest could only accept the captain's hospitality gratefully and patiently hear Oren going on a tangent of what he could do as a miner's son.

The miner's son, Oren, well, he was titled so as he had possessed no real quality to be a miner himself. A very well known rumor had it that the young man, whenever striked himself with a mine, misfortunes came in an often erupted explosion. Strange, certainly. But what he was good at was frequently overlooked by his peers and parents. He aspired to be an adventurer, one who will be the village's savior. And so with the short sword, Oren shall put his skill and determination in good use.

Oh, but the priest would rather not place his hope too high. Untrained minds often failed to value their capability in taking foes greater than them.

"And Brother, when I swung a sword— this very same one at the dark bear, it fled in terror!" The aspiring hero boasted to the priest of his achievements, one after another.

To the clearing then a mile into a thicket, Redmond listened halfheartedly, but never inattentively. "A dark bear? I have never encountered such a being, but that is for the best."

"Right, I thought the patrol did not do their job well enough." He shook his head. "Recently, not just the fruitless land that is strange, things in the woods, too, are also very... weird."

"How so?"

"Wait." The aspiring adventurer stopped for a moment as the trail to the forest got covered by ever so green grass. He quickly beamed at this. "Though the land was dead, it turned out the woods further in are alive!"

The two began to march into the lively green. The scenery of the dying village was then forgotten when the two saw how plentiful nature could give. Too bright and full of life for an autumn.

"So many to take! An apple tree is over there, brother! I should pick some back to my sisters as well."

Redmond supposed he should feel gleeful about seeing Oren searching wildly for berries to harvest, yet he could not shake away this ominous feeling he felt deep within. Should not this woods be as gray and wilting as many reported?

"Aren't you here for foraging, Brother Redmond?" Oren, who was on the way to climb down the tall tree, gave him a bright red apple. Plenty were collected in his arms. "Have one. We might as well tell the other villagers that far deep in, there still are places for food."

"I am, but," Redmond reluctantly accepted the apple in his hand. Its unnatural red gleam much brighter than his robe caused him uneasiness.

"But what?" the young man was about to ask what his hesitation in words was, only to be distracted by something else. "Wait, priest! I think there's a lake nearby! I'll check it out."

Without any further ado, Oren had already leapt down to the ground and rushed further in the strange woods.

Naught he could do, Redmond believed that his excited companion would come back soon. In the meanwhile, he examined the dark amulet, wondering if its gleam shone a little brighter. And then this apple which shouldn't grow as big and rich in red as it was due to how dry Redmond witnessed the surrounding woods.

This woods was indeed strange.

Even stranger when he heard a cry not of pain but anger emitted from the direction Oren had gone. Quickly, Redmond responded to the sound by cautiously jogging toward it. Hoped that Oren was not in any danger.

Ominous was the feeling he felt upon reaching the lake of blue. Redmond could feel it, and he was sure the amulet was, too.

This eerie irritation stirred from his chest... What was it? Almost a pricking pain, though not quite. Like a sharp pang of a needle trying to pierce his skin, but none broke under his seam.

The priest's attention was turned to the scene played near the lake. Beyond the glacial blue, two men were clashing swords and spears. Though fierce, one was bloody, grinding his teeth as a blade of spear scratched his arm. Oren with his near defeated state let out a roar of frustration as a try of plunging was made. And another man of a tall statue was bleeding with lesser blood, holding tight on his spear, seeing the sword defiantly swung back, then entering the position of perfect defense.

Redmond, with his long robe, ran as fast as he could to where two men danced a battle of the death. His voice formed from his lungs and pushed its way out his mouth, shouting.

"Cease, Glenn!" Redmond desperately cried as he saw how the sharpness of the spear was prepared to be thrusted.

The priest's plea was only added a smirk on Oren's assaulter. He threw down to the ground, the spear, and allowed Oren whose height was at disadvantage to charge onto him.

Reflexively, the sword plunged into nothing but the air, while the intended target had already slipped to his side. A punch landed naturally on the swordsman's forehead.

Redmond ran closer, but kept his distance in fear of Oren attempting another charge. "Please, Glenn! He is with me!"

This did catch the hooligan out guard not. The man evaded one more dizzy attack of the sword, swaying to the side with fluidity, before grabbing tight on the leather chest plate of the smaller man from the back.

With strength, he lifted Oren off his feet.

"Seems we got a lot to talk about, Red."