A damp wind swept through the night capital.

The scent of rain clinging to the cobbles mixed with the heavy odor of oil and iron, drifting low along the ground.

The aftermath of the disturbance in the plaza still lingered; voices were restless, layering into a shallow, uneven hum.

A single warning bell tolled from the tower.

The sound sank into the stone streets, vibrating deep into the city’s gut.

Peddlers and touts shouted over the wind. Laughter mixed with the noise, but impatience lurked beneath it.

Eyes darted, refusing to settle.

The smell of herbs from stalls tangled with the heat radiating from iron griddles.

Snippets of conversation rode the wind.

"...Metal sounds in the lower districts. They say something is moving deep underground."

"They found more gold in Mu. Someone dug up glowing shards in the old mines outside the capital. Looting old shrines, maybe..."

"Security is rotting. More people are snapping, going violent for no reason."

The three walked through the crossfire of voices.

Pain kept checking Salt’s stride, adjusting his position to shield her from the crush.

Hannes scanned both sides of the street, hunting for signs of trouble. His pace was steady—balanced between ease and tension.

Streetlights flickered.

Shadows distorted with every gust.

Pain furrowed his brow and shrugged.

"More weirdos acting like that mob earlier. The whole city feels off."

Hannes exhaled short.

"When this city gets restless, rumors run faster than truth. Someone probably just 'saw something' in the dark."

His voice was calm, but his eyes drifted toward the direction of the warning bell.

Steam rose faintly from the seams of the stone pavement. Grass, oil, and the fading echo of the bell dissolved into the sky.

"Most rumors are just mistakes," Hannes continued. "But the fact that 'someone saw it' remains."

"Humans want reasons for what they can't see," Hannes added. "Fear demands a shape."

Pain glanced at a skewer stall, raising an eyebrow.

"Honest, people inventing those 'shapes' scares me more than walking gold or talking corpses."

A boy stood at the corner, selling newspapers.

The headline—Unexplained Tremors Continue in Capital—shivered in the wind.

A few passersby stopped, peered at the ink, and bought copies with slow movements. The anxiety was contagious; the air around them tightened.

Salt slowed. Her voice was small.

"...Everyone. Scared?"

Hannes kept his eyes forward.

"Yeah. It scares them when what they believe starts to crumble."

Pain shrugged.

"In the end, people only believe what they want to. Doesn't matter if it's there or not. They just lean toward the shape they like."

They stopped and looked up at the distant tower.

The structure swayed slightly in the haze, dust mingling with the moonlight.

A lamp flickered violently once, freezing the street’s atmosphere.

"Is it a warning? or has it already started?"

Hannes’s voice dropped low.

Pain murmured, watching the cloudy sky.

"'When the earth cries and gold walks, a new darkness laughs from the deep.' Dramatic, huh?"

"Poetic," Hannes grunted. "But not funny when we're the ones facing it."

"Nasty wind," Pain muttered. "That mess in the plaza was weird, too."

The wind gusted harder.

Salt looked up.

The moon peeked through a tear in the clouds, casting a pale light that merged their three shadows into one.

Under that light, the girl whispered, almost soundless.

"...Feels different."

Bells layered over the wind. Shadows swayed.

As the three pushed through the crowd, the streetlights receded behind them. The layers of noise peeled away, leaving only their footsteps in the quiet alley.

The city’s presence faded, dissolving into the deeper night.

The night had not yet frozen. Heat remained in the stone alley, seeping back into their boot soles.

The echo of the bells from the outer rim hit the eaves, thinned, and drifted away with the wind.

They slipped through the backstreets of the darkening merchant district and returned to the tavern that served as their base.

The stairs creaked dryly.

Their footsteps overlapped. With every step, the lantern light bounced thin reflections against the ceiling.

Second floor. Faint light bled from the crack of a door.

Pain pushed the bottom of the panel with his toe. The door bounced open, groaning on its hinges.

Inside, it was warm.

Candle flames rippled, casting a soft glow over the wooden table in the center of the room.

Jack sat alone at the edge of the light. Shoulders hunched, an open bottle and a half-eaten plate of skewers before him.

He looked up slowly.

"Oh. You're here. Briefing's done. You're late."

His voice was bright, but fatigue shadowed his eyes. The smell of herbs and oil from the food melted into the room’s temperature.

Pain grinned, walked to the table, and nudged a chair with his knee.

"You started without us."

"You were slow."

Hannes shrugged with a wry smile.

Salt walked quietly to their side. She sat at the edge of the table, stirring the soup with a wooden spoon. The film of oil on the surface caught the light, reflecting a thin line.

Outside, the wind strengthened.

The old window frame rattled once, a low thud.

Pain grabbed a cup. He tilted the bottle, pouring for himself and Hannes.

His fingers moved lightly. The candle flame danced, sinking a pale glint into the liquid.

"Drinking like this... feels like real adventurers, doesn't it?"

Hannes stopped his hand.

"Hey. You're fifteen. Don't stretch."

"Fifteen is an adventurer."

Jack snorted. He tapped a stone tablet sitting on the table.

Clack. A dry sound reflected thinly off the walls.

"Noisy out there with the quakes and bells, but tomorrow will clear up. This is what matters."

Fine lines of engraving floated in the light, casting shadows on the wood. Hannes leaned in, frowning.

"We're carrying this to Mu?"

"Of course. Official contract. First come, first served."

Pain’s eyes sparked.

"Mu... Finally feels like a quest."

Hannes snorted.

"Serious? You know how many days that takes?"

Jack tilted his cup, swallowing, then wiped his mouth roughly with the back of his hand.

"Far... It'll be a long haul. But worth it. We'll dig up some gold while we're at it."

Pain laughed aloud, flicking the rim of his cup. The sound rang dry.

"Gold, huh? Maybe I'll open a stall in the capital when we get back."

"You can't manage a business."

"Never know until I try."

"'Soup You Pray to Survive,' maybe," Hannes teased.

Pain nodded, satisfied.

"Great marketing. Dangerous flavor sells."

The heat of the conversation spread slowly through the room. Salt stirred her soup, watching the thin steam rise.

The light caught the ripples, oil lines trembling.

Pain raised his cup.

Hannes reached out reluctantly.

Salt hesitated, then touched her cup to theirs.

Jack looked somewhere distant and smiled loosely.

"Hannes. Sorry, but I need you again. Handle the voyage to Mu."

Hannes shrugged, exhaling short.

"Knew it was coming... Honestly, getting involved with you makes my sons grow up too fast."

Pain laughed.

"Deep. A crash course in survival, courtesy of Jack’s boring war stories."

"Hah. I guess you could say they're getting toughened up thanks to him... Fine, Jack. I'm in."

Jack stood and raised his cup. Pain followed. Hannes and Salt joined.

Four cups collided gently. A dry sound filled the room.

"—To Mu."

"To gold and adventure."

"And praying we get back before the kids are fully grown adults."

Salt whispered, her voice blending with her breath.

"...Together."

The cups touched. The sound settled into the room.

The light swayed, casting thin shadows across their four faces. In the distance, the bells faded, and the wind slapping the window carried the end of the sound away.

Pain swirled his cup, lifting his chin toward the window.

"Hey, Jack. What kind of place is Mu?"

"Ideally? A paradise. But a paradise for one guy is a nightmare for everyone else."

Hannes chuckled.

"Rumor says it's booming."

"Then let's go see. Lies or rumors, as long as it's interesting."

Pain’s voice was light, falling into the room at the same speed as the flickering flame.

Jack narrowed his eyes briefly, a faint smile on his lips.

"Don't mind that attitude. But on the battlefield, the curious ones die first. Better to be a coward."

His gaze shifted to Salt. Hannes reached out, lightly patting her head.

"By that logic, the little miss might outlive us all."

Salt blinked once.

Pain laughed.

Jack let out a short breath from his throat. The laughter of the three bounced off the ceiling and slowly dissolved.

Wind shook the window. The light trembled thin.

The room’s temperature settled, four shadows huddling under the candlestick.

Salt breathed once, lips closed, confirming the resonance in her chest.

"...Together."

The girl's word dropped a pale light into the deepening night.