Dawn barely touched the treetops when Yava led the battered group into the forest trails. Borgas staggered between Kael and Eryn, his body still trembling from uncontrolled awakening. Dael guarded the rear, ladle tucked into his belt like a veteran warrior sheathing a sacred blade.
Behind them, Mira and Lio hurried along in silence, keeping to the shadows of the tall pines.
The air smelled of sap and smoke. Hearthspring was already distant, swallowed by trees… but the weight of pursuit pressed on them like a stone.
“Master…” Eryn whispered, glancing at Borgas. “His body temperature is still rising. I think the awakening overloaded him.”
“He’ll stabilize,” Yava replied calmly. “But he must rest soon.”
Kael muttered, “Yeah, before he melts.”
Borgas managed a weak glare.
“I won’t melt…”
They turned a bend—
“HALT! Identify yourselves!”
Spears lowered. Armor glinted.
A squad of Eryndor border patrol emerged from the brush, forming a tight wall.
Kael tensed.
Eryn almost dropped Borgas.
Dael sighed.
But then one soldier leaned in, squinting.
“...Master Dael?”
Dael blinked.
“Jeff…?”
The soldier suddenly grinned, slamming his helmet up with excitement.
“Yes, it’s me! Jeff! From five years ago! I was that scrawny kid who always stole leftover soup!”
Dael’s eyes widened.
“Oh, the soup thief! Gods above, I nearly stabbed you just now.”
Jeff puffed out his chest — now broad and muscular, a far cry from the starving teenager he used to be.
“That’s thanks to your advice, Master Dael! Most of us here are from Hearthspring. You fed us during the harsh winter. Even Captain Routh cried over your fish stew!”
He leaned in and whispered:
“I used to be an adventurer like you…
then I took a spear in the knee.”
Kael gasped.
“IT’S REAL?!”
Eryn nodded seriously.
“Documented historical fact.”
Jeff laughed awkwardly and saluted Dael.
“If it weren't for your food and words that day, I might have… given up. You saved more lives than you think."
Dael clapped his shoulder.
“You lived. That matters most.”
Jeff turned to his squad.
“Lower your weapons! They pass.”
The spears lifted immediately.
Jeff bowed deeply to Yava.
“Divine Merchant… we never met, but my father told me stories. Please — go. We didn’t see you. You were never here.”
The patrol opened a path through the trees.
Mira swallowed hard, wiping a tear before turning away.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
They continued deeper into the forest.
Then crossed the border river…
And approached Albion.
Mira’s Farewell — The Noble Beneath the Baker
At a quiet glade just before the Albion crossing, Mira stopped them.
She stepped forward, hands trembling, then bowed — deeply, gracefully.
Noble etiquette.
Her true upbringing revealed.
“Master Yava… Master Dael… thank you for saving my son.”
Dael raised an eyebrow.
“So you were a noble.”
“I abandoned it,” Mira said quietly. “For love. But today… that past nearly killed us.” Her eyes dimmed. “And it will keep hunting me.”
She turned to the trio.
To Kael — “Don’t let anger control your blade.”
To Eryn — “Trust your instincts, not just your math.”
To Borgas — she placed her hand gently on his shoulder, steadying his trembling body.
“You have a kind heart, Borgas. Don’t let power break it.”
Borgas’ eyes watered.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you…”
“You already did,” she whispered. “You bought us time.”
Lio hugged Borgas fiercely.
“Come back, Mister Borgas!”
Borgas hugged him back, voice cracking.
“I will.”
Finally, Mira handed Dael a small wrapped pouch.
“My late husband’s recipe notes. They belong with someone worthy.”
Dael quietly took them.
“I’ll keep them safe.”
Then Mira looked back toward Hearthspring — now claimed by fear and politics — and stepped away with her son down a hidden trail.
The trio watched until they vanished.
Kael clenched his fist.
Eryn wiped his eyes behind his glasses.
Borgas made a silent vow.
Yava whispered:
“That is why you must grow.”
Malrik’s Rage — Mustache of Terror
Cutaway: Hearthspring.
Malrik Veynar stood in the ruined plaza, eyes twitching, soldiers trembling around him.
“YOU LOST THEM?!”
His mustache sharpened — literally.
Both waxed ends stiffened into razor-like blades, vibrating with fury.
ZNNNN— ZNNNN— ZNNNN—
Everyone backed away.
A terrified villager stammered,
“W-we didn’t know they’d escape—”
“Of course you didn’t know!” Malrik snapped, mustache trembling like a furious insect. “You’re all idiots!”
Another soldier approached nervously.
“My lord… General Serath heard about the failure…”
Malrik froze.
His mustache immediately drooped — limp, sad, pathetic.
A visual symbol of fear.
“Oh no—”
The soldier continued.
“He’s… on his way.”
“HE WHAT?!” Malrik squeaked.
Then he coughed loudly, regaining fake dignity.
“Ahem. Obviously, I predicted this. Mobilize the Storm Battalion.
Yes. This is… tactical foresight.”
Everyone nodded politely.
No one believed him.
But no one dared say so.
Miu’s Report — Eyes of the Divine Scientist
Hidden high in the branches, Miu watched the entire scene play out.
She scribbled quickly:
- “Borgas awakened prematurely — volatile.”
? “Kael growing rapidly — dangerous potential.”
? “Eryn’s mind is frighteningly sharp — he adapts fast.”
? “Dael sensed me. Again.”
? “Yava looked at my tree. He knows.”
She whistled softly — a small mechanical bird drone flapped its wings and flew toward Veloria.
Cutaway to Jin.
He read the report and smiled faintly.
“Good. The fox runs.
Let us see whether the storm follows.”
Asaka Hana jotted her own notes.
Miu, far away, felt a chill down her spine.
The Split — Into Albion
When they reached the edges of Albion territory, marked by ancient stone ruins draped in glowing ivy, Mira insisted they separate.
“If you enter the capital together, they will think Eryndor is invading,” Mira said. “Albion is… cautious.”
Yava agreed.
Mira and Lio took the civilian road.
Dael, Kael, Eryn, and Borgas approached the border path.
Yava lingered.
He scanned the trees—
His Galaxy Eyes flickered.
Miu nearly fell off her branch as his gaze passed within inches of her hiding spot.
Yava turned away.
“…We are not alone. Move.”
- Albion’s Watchers — The Ambush of Arrows
As they crossed a wooden bridge over a shimmering blue river—
FWHIP! FWHIP! FWHIP!
Arrows struck the ground around them.
“Hands up!”
From the trees descended elven rangers in green armor.
Their leader — a tall elven woman with braided silver hair — aimed a gleaming bow at Dael.
Kael raised his sword.
Eryn froze.
Borgas swayed.
Dael raised… his ladle.
“This is not a weapon,” he clarified calmly.
The elf narrowed her eyes.
“You’re Dael the Divine Chef.”
The trio blinked.
“You KNOW him?”
The elf scoffed.
“He entered our culinary competition last year and destroyed three kitchens.”
Dael groaned.
“IT WAS ONE ACCIDENT—”
Before arguments escalated, Yava stepped forward.
“We seek safe passage. Nothing more.”
His Galaxy Eyes glimmered softly.
The elves hesitated.
Then lowered their bows.
“Very well,” the elf captain said.
“You will come with us.
The Republic will decide your fate.”
Final Scene — Storms on the Horizon
As the group was escorted deeper into Albion’s forest paths, distant thunder echoed across the mountains.
Serath Valen had moved.
Yava paused and looked north.
“…So, you’re watching too, Serath.”
He stepped forward into the emerald shadows of Albion.
Behind him, the storm began to gather.
Meanwhile Serath...
"Hachu... Someone must have brought a cat inside" Serath sneezed a little.
"Blessed you, my lord. I'd look into it" Said a big figure besides him, his right hand man.
Serath, the divine general, is allergic to cat.
End of Chapter 7