“I’ll inspect Terukh Hill personally.”
Williams’ voice was calm, but it left no room for negotiation.
“Understood,” Wetra replied without hesitation.
Williams stared straight ahead, as if he could already see the hill in his mind.
“Prepare the horses immediately,” he continued.
“We won’t be using the Aurum Wings.”
Wetra’s brow furrowed—just for a fraction of a second.
“Is there a particular reason, Commander?”
“If something is still lingering there,” Williams answered flatly,
“I want it to know we’re coming.”
Nothing more needed to be said.
The order was clear.
A short while later, two black horses rode out through Oblivion’s gates, heading along the forest path toward Terukh Hill.
Morning mist still hung low. No golden wings split the sky that day.
No flash of light announcing the Commander’s presence.
Only the sound of hooves and the whisper of wind.
Wetra rode half a step behind Williams.
“If there truly are traces of Bune left there,” Wetra said quietly, “do you think it would have left something behind?”
“Every being leaves something,” Williams replied without turning. “Whether it’s a trace… or an intention.”
The forest began to thin as they approached the outskirts of Terukh Hill.
Williams pulled his reins slightly to the left.
“We’ll make a brief stop.”
Wetra understood without further explanation.
Before long, a modest wooden house came into view at the edge of the forest.
The small yard was quiet.
Beneath an old tree, a girl sat upright on a small wooden bench, her gaze fixed ahead.
A few steps away, a boy stood with a wooden sword in his hand.
His swings weren’t perfect.
Still stiff.
But not hesitant.
The wood cut through the air in a simple rhythm—once, twice, pause, then repeat.
Williams slowed his horse to a stop at the edge of the yard.
His eyes focused on the boy.
The boy continued swinging.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
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The girl slowly lifted her head.
Her gaze went straight to the two figures on horseback.
She showed no surprise.
No fear.
Only stillness.
Her eyes stopped on Wetra.
She recognized him.
But when her gaze shifted to the man in front—the one whose eyes were deeper, calmer—
She did not recognize him.
Wetra noticed the look in passing.
Williams dismounted with measured movement. Wetra followed.
They tied the reins to a nearby tree trunk.
The horses snorted softly before settling.
Their boots touched the ground with muted sounds.
Only then did the boy stop.
The wooden sword was still in his hand.
He turned slightly, frowning.
Alice had already stood up.
Without saying a word, she walked over to Graham and stopped beside him.
Not shielding him.
Not stepping back.
Just standing.
Williams observed them both for several seconds.
So these are the ones Wetra meant.
The two who survived.
He stepped forward slowly.
Unhurried. Unthreatening.
When he was close enough, Williams lowered himself slightly to meet their eye level.
“Good morning,” he said gently.
There was no intimidation in his tone.
Just a simple greeting.
Graham and Alice exchanged a glance before replying softly,
“G-good morning…”
Graham tightened his grip on the wooden sword.
“W-who are you?” he asked cautiously.
Wetra was about to answer first.
“This is Commander Williams—”
“Don’t speak like that in front of children,” Williams cut in calmly, still half-crouched.
He rose slowly and gave Wetra a brief glance.
“My apologies,” Wetra said shortly.
Williams turned back to the two children.
“I’m Williams Edgard,” he said lightly.
“A close friend of Kael’s.”
A brief silence followed.
Alice’s eyes widened first.
So did Graham’s.
“Oh… you’re Uncle Kael’s friend?” Alice asked, her voice softer now—almost relieved.
For the first time that morning, the heavy air slowly began to ease.
Alice visibly relaxed.
Graham lowered his wooden sword, though he still held onto it.
Williams allowed himself a faint smile.
“Yes,” he answered softly.
“It’s been quite some time.”
“Uncle never said he had any friends,” Alice said, her tone lighter now.
“He didn’t need to,” Williams replied gently.
The morning breeze drifted through the yard, rustling dry leaves.
Graham still watched Williams carefully—not afraid, just cautious.
Williams noticed.
“May I?” he asked, nodding toward the wooden sword in Graham’s hand.
Graham hesitated for a split second, then gave a small nod and handed it over.
Williams accepted it with one hand.
Testing the weight.
“It’s unbalanced,” he said quietly. “But it’s enough for basic training.”
He swung it once.
The movement was simple.
Yet the air seemed to split cleanly.
Not because of power.
Because of precision.
Graham unconsciously held his breath.
Williams handed the sword back.
“You’re gripping it too tightly,” he said to Graham. “If you stay that stiff, your arm will tire quickly.”
Graham looked down at his own hand.
“Hold it like you’re gripping something you don’t want to drop,” Williams continued, “but also don’t want to crush.”
Graham adjusted his grip.
Alice watched in silence.
Wetra stood several steps behind, not interfering.
Williams stepped back.
“Try again.”
Graham raised the sword.
Swing.
The air sounded cleaner than before.
Williams neither praised nor criticized.
He simply gave a small nod.
“Better.”
Graham didn’t realize his heart was beating faster. Not from fear.
But from wanting to be acknowledged.
The wooden door opened from inside the house.
Click.
Heavy footsteps stepped onto the porch.
“Graham, Alice—who’s outside?”
Alice turned. “Uncle—”
A tall man stepped out from the doorway. His hair was slightly messy, sleeves casually rolled up.
His gaze stopped at the figure in the yard.
For half a second, silence.
Then the corner of his lips lifted.
“Yo… Will.”
His tone was casual. Far too casual for a meeting long overdue.
Wetra instinctively bowed his head.
Williams straightened fully.
His jaw tightened slightly.
He let out a quiet breath.
“Don’t call me that… Kael.”
His voice remained calm, but firm.
“…But seeing you alive puts me at ease.”
Kael burst into laughter.
“Hahaha! Don’t underestimate me, Will.”
He stepped down one stair from the porch.
“Even like this, I’m still a former Chairman, you know.”
A faint wind passed through the yard.
Graham and Alice exchanged glances—they had never seen Uncle Kael laugh like that with anyone else.
Kael walked closer into the yard, his laughter fading.
He stopped a few steps away from Williams.
“It’s been a long time, Will.”
“Yes,” Williams replied shortly.
There was no embrace.
No handshake.
Just two men fully aware of the years between them.
Kael tilted his head slightly.
“What brings you here?” he asked lightly—too lightly.
“You didn’t come all this way just to visit this old man, did you?”
Williams raised a thin eyebrow.
“Don’t pretend you’re the oldest one here.”
Kael chuckled.
“Hah. At least my hair isn’t as white as yours.”
Alice lifted her face, studying Williams more closely than before.
“Uncle… what’s with his hair?”
Her question didn’t sound na?ve.
More like she genuinely wanted to know.
Kael glanced at Williams and smirked casually.
“That’s its natural color.”
Alice blinked slowly.
“Oooh.”
Williams let out a thin sigh.
“What a profound question.”
“Forget about that,” he said at last.
His gaze shifted.
“I want to go to Terukh Hill.”
The morning air seemed to pause.
Kael didn’t answer immediately.
His smile slowly faded.
Graham and Alice sensed the shift—though they didn’t fully understand it.
Neither of them spoke.
Williams stared at him without blinking.
“It’s bad, isn’t it.”
Not a question.
More a confirmation.
Kael exhaled quietly.
“Worse than you imagine,” he said at last.
“And quieter than it should be.”
His eyes flickered briefly toward the distant forest.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t have to see it yourself.”
The silence between them felt heavier than the morning air.
Kael finally sighed.
“Come inside first,” he said shortly.
“We don’t need to talk about this out here.”
Williams looked at him for a few seconds, then gave a small nod.
Graham had already slipped inside.
Alice followed, closing the door gently behind her.
Wetra remained at the doorway for a moment, making sure the surroundings were calm, before stepping in as well.
