The village square raged chaotically under the torchlight and the clang of weapons mid-battle. The villagers' screams silenced the voices of the five, their silence soon becoming the sound of people trying to survive the dangerous threat from the heretical cult members. This was no longer just a battlefield; it was an uncontrollable massacre.

  In the midst of the fight, Sora stood before the Butcher, whose blood-soaked cleaver sharpened against his rough hammer, sending sparks flying before Sora. Sora's eyes narrowed; his sword was only a fraction of the size of the Butcher's cleaver, which was far sharper than the decay around them. Their weapons clashed in a thunderous slash as Othegrun began to attack Sora, causing the ground beneath their feet to crack. The gust of wind made the air around them feel hot enough to peel their skin, but Sora pressed forward against the wild and brutal Othegrun. Elsewhere, Kaelith fired her arrows at the villagers in frustration as her arrows pierced them only for them to rise again and advance, some vomiting a black liquid when hit. “Do your best, idiot,” Kaelith grumbled to herself as she tried to cripple the villagers' brutal movements. Namien, who had been continuously casting fireball spells at the horde before him and flicking villager blood from his hands, began to growl, “I hate cults. Have I ever mentioned how much I hate cults before?” “No, but it’s very clear from the look on your face right now,” Kaelith answered, releasing another arrow that pierced three villagers in front of her. Their backs were pressed together in the chaos, steel and magic flickering like twin stars refusing to be extinguished by the rot.

  Meanwhile, Arelan tried to clear a path through the horde of villagers approaching him, thirsting for his blood and flesh; Arelan slashed his axes through them as quickly as a knife cutting paper. Vael, seeing Arelan beside him, tried to help by following behind him, assisting in clearing their path towards the church where the heretical priest was laughing at those trying to escape the chaos he had created.

  Inside the church… The weathered door creaked open slowly, revealing Arelan and Vael who had just arrived, their armor stained with blood, their gripped weapons wet with the blood of those who believed the falsehoods from the heretical priest's sermons. At the altar stood the heretical priest, shrouded in an aura of decay. A circle of black fire chanted by the priest surrounded his head, his eyes looked like sunken, bottomless dry wells of darkness, and his white robe had black patches filled with something rotten. The priest looked towards them and broke the silence inside the church, saying, “Ah… the rejected Arelan and Vael the loyal dog, both from Borreal.” Arelan’s jaw tensed, and he stepped forward, axe raised towards the priest, saying to him, “You… I still remember your face before I left Borreal because of you, and I realized from the start when I saw you here that I would avenge what befell my brothers, my home, and myself.” The priest only laughed upon hearing Arelan’s words and asked him with a cynical smile, “Oh, Arelan. How long has it been since we last met? After you left that kingdom before its fall, perhaps?” Arelan did not respond to the Priest's question but had reached his point of frustration and chose to remain in his ready position, his anger blazing in his eyes. Then, the priest turned towards Vael and said to him, “Ah, Vael. Are you still holding onto that oath you broke? Don’t you know how foolish you were after being deceived by your own kingdom?” Vael growled and answered, “You… You were the one in Borreal. I still remember you coming as a scholar—” The priest laughed freely, cutting off Vael’s unfinished sentence. “And leaving that place as its executioner.”. Vael, hearing that, could no longer contain his emotions. With his anger exploding, he charged forward screaming his fury at the heretical priest who was raising his hands, attempting to cast a dark spell that made rotten arms emerge from beneath the church floor undead hands protecting the priest. “You speak of oaths, but the oath itself is a chain shackled around your neck that you must obey at all times with blind loyalty. You call it loyalty, but I call it foolishness,” the heretical priest said, laughing at Vael who was charging him. “Then call this my judgment in the name of my foolish oath for your death,” Vael answered the heretical priest’s words, slashing through the arms trying to stop him from below the floor, destroying the first wave of the priest's magic spell. Arelan moved quickly and brutally behind him, his axes set in motion to break through the bone and rot barricade towards the priest.

  The priest chuckled as his first wave was destroyed and saw Vael and Arelan quite close, leaving him no choice but to transform into his true form. His skin blackened and rotted, his aura radiating the scent of death and decay. The heretical priest no longer wore his white robe; his body was covered in bones and rotting flesh, his veins pulsed black, his fingers extended into beast-like claws, and the manifestation of his dark power shone black and pulsed in his chest like the core of all his dark magic gathered in one point. The heretical priest revealed his true form, transforming into rotting flesh from the black fire emanating from parts of his body, showing who he truly was. Vael and Arelan stopped for a moment before the priest who had now fully turned into a demon, tightening their grips on their weapons. The two knights whose homes were destroyed versus the heretical priest transformed into a demon the battle had now begun. Every attack launched by Vael and Arelan against the heretical priest was deflected by a shockwave spell cast by the priest, throwing them both away and wrecking the church interior benches flew, stained glass shattered, and all the candles went out from the strong blast of wind.

  "THIS IS THE CHURCH OF EVOLUTION!" screamed the heretical priest, raising both hands to the sky while watching Vael and Arelan trying to get up from the ground. "Not until I destroy you, demon," Vael replied, getting back up while spitting blood-mixed saliva to his side, and the two charged him again after that.

  Meanwhile, outside the church... Othegrun growled, swinging his cleaver in a wide arc at Sora. Sora, seeing this as a golden opportunity, quickly slid low beneath it and stabbed Othegrun, his sword blade embedding deep in the giant's ribs through his back. The Butcher tried to grab Sora who was behind him, making Sora step back again and pull out the sword that had pierced his back. Sora saw his opponent was now covered in blood, Othegrun's breath ragged, but he was still alive after receiving many attacks from Sora.

  Then, as Othegrun turned his body to look at Sora full of rage, Sora looked around, saw a torch nearby, and decided to try something with it, looking back at the Butcher. Sora ran quickly towards Othegrun before he could launch his attack, but Othegrun had already raised his cleaver for a final slash before Sora reached him. Sora moved fast, and as he neared Othegrun who had already swung towards him, Othegrun couldn't find Sora anywhere; Sora himself had disappeared from his sight. Then, Sora reappeared, grabbed the nearby torch, and beat Othegrun's back with it, setting his back on fire. Seeing the chance to subdue him while burning, Sora thrust his sword blade into the back of Othegrun's neck. With a roar, Othegrun, clearly unable to withstand Sora's fiery attack, finally fell forward onto his knees and collapsed, the ground trembling as his flesh burned to ash soon after.

  Sora pulled his sword from the lifeless Othegrun and quickly moved again towards Kaelith and Namien, who were still fighting the villagers surrounding them. Kaelith and Namien, still surrounded by villagers and splattered with their blood, saw the Butcher had been defeated when Sora reached the back of the villagers and attacked them from behind. Namien, still focusing his magic, exhaled and said to Kaelith, "Finally, one monster down." Kaelith responded to Namien, "Three hundred more are still coming towards us, Namien, stay focused!" The villagers still raged with a deadly and brutal fight, five survivors against hundreds of cannibalistic villagers who had lost their sanity. The church shook from the dark magic of the heretical priest's transformation, plunging the entire village into chaos, something no one could have imagined. Inside the church, the faithless heretical priest echoed stronger, louder, and darker than before. However, the Silent One, the Archer, the Snake in the Torn Robe, the Knight with His Final Oath, and the Knight branded a traitor for His Principles would not let him echo any longer, because his very existence invited death to everyone around him. This fight was more than just a battle; it was more like an exorcism of the heretical teachings from its bearer that had just begun.

  The ruined altar inside the church beneath the feet of the Borreal knights and the heretical priest made the fight within even deadlier. Ash from the remnants of black fire magic spells fell like snow from the ceiling, and the partially shattered stained glass above allowed remnants of moonlight to enter. The fight was a symphony of clashing steel, the crunching bones of resurrected undead, and the decay of magic cast all at once in the same place. Vael, who had been attacking and defending, began to look breathless and exhausted, his sword blade repeatedly singing as he slashed towards the priest who had summoned the undead as a meat shield of the dead to protect him, now transformed into a creature beyond mere beast and the cruelest of humans. His rotting body was black, parts of his skin peeled off, and his pitch-black eyes signified his power originated from darkness. Vael continued his attacks, trying to avoid every magic and undead attack as the priest cast his spells, attacking Vael even if it hit the undead he had summoned. Arelan, focusing only on what was in front of him, swung both his axes with the cry of a betrayed warrior branded a traitor, unleashing everything he had to destroy what had ruined him in the remnants of his past and present life, exiled from his own home not entirely through his own fault. The heretical priest began to laugh at them both, continuing to summon undead troops that endlessly emerged from the ruined church floor with the power he possessed. "Let me taste your loyalty..." the heretical priest's voice was hoarse, like a thousand whispers echoing off the church walls.

  Vael gritted his teeth as blood began to flow from his arm due to the attack he received, and the memory of Borreal being corrupted by him drove him to exert all his ability to attack the heretical priest. Shadows of Borreal's memory burning to nothing, his brothers who had sworn oaths under its banner falling one by one, and the oaths he had broken flashed through his mind. What he saw before him exhausted him, making his legs weaken and lose balance in the fight. Until, a whirlwind of axes from Arelan struck the heretical priest's side as Arelan managed to break through the undead barricade with a brutality like a demon of war, creating an opening to attack the priest. Arelan, also weary, had opened a path for Vael with his storm of fury. Arelan launched a relentless barrage of attacks that finally pushed the heretical priest back, forcing him to release the magic power previously aimed at Vael, now intending to target Arelan. However, it was too late. One of Arelan's attacks hit the heretical priest, creating a very deep and large gash in his ribs, spewing thick black blood from his chest. The heretical priest screamed in pain and threw Arelan away with his magic, clutching his wound. Arelan, though thrown back, managed to maintain his balance. Arelan's attack caused the undead to fall to the ground, impacting the situation for the two Borreal knights. "How dare you make me bleed like this!" the heretical priest hissed, his madness turning to frustration as he tried to cast a death spell laced with a curse. From the church floor and walls, more undead soldiers emerged, wearing rusted armor and wielding sharp weapons, their eyes glowing with a deadly blue light. The horde of undead, remnants of fallen warriors, began to swarm Vael and Arelan, numbering in the dozens. Vael and Arelan had no choice but to fight back-to-back again, guarding each other's backs from the siege of dozens of undead with worn and rusted equipment. Steel rang again, each strike from the Borreal knights shattering the undead bones. Inside the church was far more terrifying than outside; the situation was no longer just brutal and chaotic, but more like a suicide mission. As the fight continued, the ground around the church trembled intensely from the endless emergence of the undead army.

  The wounded heretical priest tried to cast a death spell by making his body float above the altar while transforming into something even more horrific than before. He completed his spell and took his black sword blade, formed from deadly darkness, jagged and forged from shadow and the fire of decay. The priest's mouth chanted magic again, uttering a curse, channeling his magic into every edge of his sword blade as black fire enveloped it. The church trembled with the heretical priest's power, causing everything inside to shatter into pieces. Vael, who was defending, saw a possible opening and dashed to the right to circle the heretical priest as the horde of undead chased him. The priest, noticing his movement, turned towards him, raising his cursed sword blade, then launched an attack towards Vael while laughing.

  However, Vael vanished just as the priest's attack hit his own undead troops pursuing Vael. Vael then appeared behind him and said. "Behind you!" Too late for the priest to stop his laughter and turn around, he felt the sound of Vael's sword tearing his flesh with an unexpected surprise attack from Vael. Vael, having attacked him, cut off the priest's right arm, and the dark sword he held fell with the severed hand onto the church floor. The priest's roar of pain echoed loudly. While the priest was still roaring in pain, Arelan, freed from the undead siege, greeted him with his crossed axes and slashed the priest with a clean arcing cut, tearing his chest again until the gash reached the top of the priest's neck, spewing and spilling black pus. The priest staggered to his knees in helplessness, still trying to speak to them both.

  Vael stepped forward as the priest clutched his neck, trying to plead with them. With the full strength of Vael's oath, without needing to hear the priest's words, Vael stabbed his sword into the heretical priest's cursed heart. The priest's eyes lost their light and dimmed. The heretical priest's final breath escaped his ruined mouth, causing all the undead he had summoned to fall to the church floor, signaling the end of the two Borreal knights' battle. Then, silence fell within the church. Arelan lowered his axes, trying to catch his breath after the fight, and Vael stood still, his sword still gripped, watching the priest's chest ooze black blood, making his hand tremble. Then, Vael sheathed his sword, stood silent for a moment, and spoke calmly. "This oath will never die, even if destroyed by you. Not just for me, but for Borreal and its people too," Vael whispered, looking at the lifeless priest. Shortly after, Vael spat towards the priest's corpse, his saliva mixed with blood. Arelan, seeing this, said nothing, but their gazes met, not with forgiveness or friendship, but with Arelan's acknowledgment that Vael's words were entirely true towards the one who had destroyed their home. The last two knights of the fallen kingdom had found their victory and vengeance, their swords drawn in their kingdom's name. Behind them, the rot began to burn itself out, and the shadows lifted.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Sora, Kaelith, and Namien finished their task; all the villagers had fallen at their hands, their numerous bodies filling the village streets. They walked towards the church and entered the ruined building. Sora's sword blade was lowered but held tightly, stained reddish-black with the villagers' blood. Behind him, Kaelith remained alert, an arrow ready on her bow more out of reflex than readiness, and Namien followed, panting and muttering softly about casting so much magic. “These villagers bleed and keep breeding like mushrooms, but everything living eventually meets its end. Do you think, Kaelith, these undead we fought can feel tired too? Because I certainly do,” Namien muttered while wiping blood from his sleeve, making Kaelith turn towards him, wiping blood from her cheek. “Less whining, Namien. More walking,”

  Inside the ruined church stood the shadows of knights who had endured their fight. Sunlight began to peek through the holes in the church ceiling, revealing the two Borreal knights. Vael, his armor half-destroyed and covered in blood, now held no weapon; even his sword was sheathed at his hip. Vael turned around and saw Sora, Kaelith, and Namien, his eyes empty but victorious. He said nothing, then walked past the three of them and left the church without a word. His footsteps echoed on the broken pews, sounding hollow. The others watched him leave. A few moments later, Arelan remained silent and motionless near the altar, his axes sheathed on his back. His eyes, once sharp with the principles of a true warrior, had now found what he had been seeking all this time. He hadn't spoken since the priest died, not even to Vael. Only when he realized the others Sora, Kaelith, and Namien were watching him did he turn as if waking from a distant memory. Namien broke the silence first, wiping sweat mixed with blood spatter from his brow. “Well, that was touching. Did I miss the renewal of some forgotten brotherhood oath, or did someone forget to bring the wine to celebrate?” Arelan didn't want to reply to the sarcasm, but hearing Namien speak like that, he responded firmly. “That’s none of your business,” he said curtly. Namien raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Tch… always so stiff, every Borreal knight I’ve ever met.” Arelan turned his back on them and walked towards the church door. Kaelith exhaled slowly and lowered her bow, and Sora just looked at the two knights wordlessly, seeing only the burdens they carried in their eyes.

  Outside the church, Arelan paused long enough to see Vael sitting on a large boulder, the view before him filled with the sprawled, lifeless villagers. The air outside the church was filled with the smell of blood and shattered faith indoctrinated by the heretical priest's teachings. And now the village, silent once more, had returned to its deadly quiet, its inhabitants nothing more than broken vessels of a forgotten cult upon its soil. Vael, sitting, could only bow his head, his sword resting beside him. Vael's eyes weren't fixed on the scene, but stared far off, somewhere deeper, past the ruins, past the misty hills, and past time itself, his thoughts returning to Borreal. The screams of its people, the fires burning everywhere, the falling banners stained with blood it all haunted him like a living shadow at his side, always reminding him.

  Arelan stood beside him with his arms folded across his chest, his twin axes weighing down his back, his eyes fixed on the grey village horizon. The two did not look at each other; they didn't need to, to know what they were truly feeling. "Still regretting your past?" Arelan asked, breaking the silence between them, his voice low. Vael answered him. "More or less like you right now." Then Arelan responded, “Just like me? Still haunting my dreams and still rotting in my dreams, more precisely.” Vael tilted his head slightly to look towards Arelan, speaking in a low voice. “You weren't entirely wrong, you know that. I felt it when you spoke in that church, and you felt it too through all your actions, didn't you?” Arelan nodded faintly. “And now you feel it and know what I meant all along.” The silence between them stretched, not just from the audible distance, but from the understanding of their shared feelings and memories that were always imprinted. “Well then… this burden is ours to bear forever,” Vael murmured softly, his face looking at the village view before him. “Yes, but to atone for it… we keep moving forward, even if the ground beneath our feet collapses.” Arelan replied softly but firmly, and finally Vael looked at him seriously. For the first time since the fall of Borreal which reunited the two knights who had once stood under the same banner but walked different paths, they shared more than just their mistakes and regrets; they also shared their burdens and their acceptance of each other in facing them. Vael stood up from his seat and picked up the sword he had laid down. And now, they stood where the knight with his oath and the knight with his principles were no longer separated by betrayal, but bound by the sins of their past a past that could not be easily forgotten, but could be carried, just as their pain was carried like the burden of their lives.

  The silence in the courtyard of the ruined church felt heavier than the smell of blood still hanging in the air. Sora, Kaelith, and Namien stepped out from inside the church, and they immediately saw the two figures of the Borreal knights near the boulder where Vael stood. Vael and Arelan looked at each other, their aura like an intense, unspoken conversation thick between them. And there, in the midst of that silence, they finally understood each other; Vael understood why Arelan left, and Arelan finally felt the weight of the burden Vael had carried all this time in loneliness when Borreal collapsed from within.

  That sacred silence, of course, did not last long in the presence of Namien, who wiped the sweat from his brow again with his robe, looked at the horrifying pile of villager corpses, and blended the atmosphere with his typical sarcastic tone before him. "Well, well, well. An outstanding welcoming committee, at least they're not smiling anymore. That's very significant progress, I guess." he said while wiping his sweat. Vael and Arelan both turned towards Namien behind them with grim expressions, feeling slightly disturbed by his words. Kaelith could only sigh softly at Namien's behavior, while Sora remained silent, observing the interaction. Arelan looked towards Namien, then back at Vael, asking with astonishment. "Is he always like this?" Vael let out a long sigh, a gesture of both exhaustion and acceptance. "You'll get used to these talkative people eventually." he answered in a flat tone without a hint of hostility. A very thin, almost invisible smile touched Arelan's lips. It was the first time he had shown an expression other than tension or anger since they met. Shortly after, Arelan straightened up and walked past Vael to approach Sora, who stood the calmest among them. The Borreal knight's eyes looked straight into Sora's silent ones and said. "I have seen why he follows you, and he still holds his oath to Borreal, an oath that should bind him to his kingdom. However, you provide a way for him to continue fulfilling that oath without being confined by someone who follows the person they swore to, leaving their old oath behind." Arelan said, his voice now firmer. When he paused his words briefly, he turned towards Vael and stopped for a moment, looking at him, then immediately asked Sora, "Allow me to walk with you as he does, and I want to see the path Vael walks with you as the one he follows."

  Sora didn't immediately answer Arelan's request, his silence feeling like deep consideration. Instead of nodding or shaking his head, Sora did something unexpected. Slowly, he pointed with his raised finger straight towards Vael, as if Sora was saying, ‘It’s not my decision. Ask him!’ Once again, all eyes Kaelith's, Namien's, and Arelan's turned to Vael, waiting for his explanation and decision regarding Arelan's request. The tension returned, but this time it was different; it wasn't the tension of hostility, but the anticipation of a new beginning. Vael looked at Arelan when he saw Sora's action to answer Arelan's request, then his gaze shifted to the path stretching out before them the path that would take them away from this cursed valley. Vael took a deep breath, the cold air filling his tired lungs. “Borreal is completely destroyed, Arelan. All that remains of the kingdom now is its ashes and our oaths that still bind us to it.” Vael said in a low but clear voice, each word carrying the weight of their history. Vael finally turned to look Arelan directly in the eyes, his hard expression softening, replaced by an understanding born from bloodshed and reconciliation. “And this path… is where we fulfill it now.” Vael continued, looking at Sora afterwards and nodding slightly towards him, then pausing for a moment to let his words sink in. With the firmness of a commander and the warmth of a long-lost brother, he gave his explanation. “Walk beside us, brother.” Arelan, hearing that, did not smile, but his tense shoulders seemed to relax slightly. Arelan could only nod once, a nod containing respect, acceptance, and a promise. The group, shattered by battle, was now whole again and stronger than before. Under the brightening sky, five wanderers now stood together, ready to continue their journey.

  With oaths renewed in peace, the fifth wanderer returned from the cursed village, leaving behind the smiling corpses and the church reduced to ash and bone. The path leading them out was as quiet as the way in, but this time, the comfort felt clean, as if a fever had broken. They passed back through the graveyard forest, where the undead had once herded them. But now, nothing moved.

  The crows were gone, and their dreadful laughter had vanished from the trees. The tombstones were just stone again, tilted and silent, guardians no longer restless from their long-forgotten place. The forest no longer felt like a threat; it felt like a tomb that had finally found its peace. “So, the priest was the source. Cut off the head, and the body dies with it.”. Namien muttered, more to himself, as they emerged from the forest fog. “I hope that priest doesn’t rise as an undead. It would be very troublesome if he came back to life.” Vael replied grimly, hoping that wouldn't happen.

  Their journey continued, away from the haunted Linshuin Pass and towards more deceitful and unreachable terrain. For hours they walked, until the path narrowed, flanked by steep stone walls rising high on both sides like the ribs of the world. It was in this sheltered valley that they finally stopped to rest as the afternoon shadows stretched long like their tired fingers.

  The campfire Vael made burned, its flickering light dancing on the towering rocks, creating an intimate sanctuary amidst the vast wilderness. Kaelith sat near Sora, Namien pulled out a bottle of liquor from who knows where, and Vael watched from the shadows, his presence calming. However, Arelan was the unspoken center of attention. Namien, never able to contain his curiosity, initiated their conversation. "Alright, Arelan. You've officially walked with us, bled with us, and exchanged grim looks with us now, though more specifically with Vael. It's time you shared a little about yourself, perhaps." Kaelith turned, looking towards Arelan, her curiosity wanting to hear from him as well. "Vael only mentioned earlier that you left Borreal, and he never told us the reason why you left him clearly," Namien added while pouring the drink to share with everyone there.

  Arelan stared at the campfire, his expressionless face sculpted by light and shadow. “I left because I saw a rot not from enemies intending to attack the front gate but, from within, where I saw the king’s advisors and scholars digging up something they should not have unearthed. An ancient artifact, so dark with its unexplainable dark knowledge, and they called it a means to prosperity,” Arelan said, his voice low as he recalled every memory he couldn't forget. “They thought it was a source of power and a way to advance civilization in Borreal forever but, the artifact did not give what they spoke of to the king; rather, the artifact took everything in Borreal. Those who made the king believe it contained a rotten belief within it and a false hope given to the king. I saw good knights become cruel, killing their own people as dark magic controlled some of them, and the wise scholars who did not follow those who believed in the ancient artifact became paranoid when the chaos had already occurred. I spoke out because I opposed it, and they called me a traitor. So I chose to leave, not to save myself but, to find a way to fight that rot from the outside. However, in the end, I failed to do so when I met a wanderer who knew the news that Borreal had turned to ash and was leveled to the ground when I heard it directly at that time.” He continued, taking his axe from his back and holding it tightly, regretting his departure.

  The silence of Arelan's regret felt heavy with the burden of his confession. Then, Arelan lifted his head, and his eyes now fixed on Sora as he spoke to him. “I have told of my burden, and now I wish to know why the people here choose to follow you, Silent One.” he said, his tone shifting to one of wonder, wanting to know directly from Sora why someone like him gained the recognition of those around him, according to the confused Arelan. Sora looked towards Arelan, his expression as calm as the surface of a deep pool. “What actually drives you on this aimless journey? Forgive me, if I am a bit presumptuous with this question,” Arelan asked, leaning slightly closer to Sora who was beside him. "All the things you do now, be it the battles you endure, your pain, and walking from one place to another, what is it actually for? Do you want your name carved in stone or a statue resembling you? Or do you want your name sung in songs or in poetry by poets or street singers for your greatness?" Arelan added, a bit serious about it, his expression flat.

  Sora just stared at him until Arelan finished questioning him, then slowly Sora took out his writing tools, a pencil and his worn paper already filled with much writing, and began writing something for Arelan. However, in the midst of Sora writing something, Arelan pressed him slightly to answer his question by asking another question. “In that case, do you want to be a hero who will be remembered for saving this world from its destruction? To be recognized as the savior of this ruined world?” Arelan asked, urging Sora who was writing. Sora, hearing that from Arelan just as he finished writing for him, shook his head slowly, a smile now visible on his face towards Arelan. Arelan looked into his eyes, his tone becoming confused after seeing Sora's reaction like that. "Or perhaps the opposite, maybe you want to see everything burn to ash, and after all that has been taken or snatched from you, you want to destroy this already ruined world for revenge, right?" Hearing that, Sora fell silent for a moment, and his silence became an answer louder than any shout. He didn't confirm any of Arelan's questions because none came close to the truth he held, and all those assumptions about glory, heroism, or destruction felt foreign to his ears, like the language of another world according to Sora. Then, slowly Sora gave the paper he had written as an answer to Arelan, not answered with his sign language. Then, after giving the paper to Arelan, Sora's eyes met Arelan's, and in the silence of the valley, Sora answered all of Arelan's questions with the answer on the paper that encapsulated his entire existence and the answer he held currently.

  Arelan read the contents of the paper, which served as Sora’s simple answer. Sora answered, ‘To be a Witness.’ That was the only answer Sora gave ; he only wanted to be a witness to his existence in the ruined world, not to lead, not to save, not to judge, and not to destroy it, but only to be a witness for those in this world to know what this world truly wanted and was destroyed by humanity itself. Sora also added some writing below it which read, ‘To walk alongside those whose lives as humans have been wounded and shattered, to share and accompany the silence of those who cannot speak of their circumstances hidden as secrets, and to bear the burden beside those who can no longer carry it alone.’ His purpose was not an ordinary one or the purpose Arelan questioned earlier; rather, Sora only desired his presence in this world with people like those in his writing. Arelan, reading Sora's writing, looked into Sora’s calm eyes, and for the first time, the axe knight had no more questions to refute the Silent One. He saw an oath older than any oath that had ever bound any Borreal knight, even himself and Vael, visible as a bond forged not from steel but from empathy and magnanimity. And under the night sky, stars watched over the five wanderers sitting in a newfound silence, understanding that their journey ahead was not about reaching a place but about how they could keep walking together in the ruined world, as Sora had written, which was more important.