Chapter 29:
A Chance Encounter
The Conqueror
Chapter 29 – A Chance Encounter
The small village of Guard, tucked deep within the lands of Wisdom, was a quiet place.
By day, it bustled with traders and farmers. By night, the streets dimmed into soft lantern glow, giving the air of peace one could rarely find in cities.Inside the heart of the village stood a quaint restaurant, its wooden walls polished by years of laughter and meals shared.
The savory aroma of roasted meats and herb-seasoned bread seeped into the air, drawing in weary travelers and locals alike.
At one of the larger tables near the corner sat four men—Lucas, Thomas, Anthony, and Hiroshi.
Hiroshi, though only twenty-five, looked older in spirit. His black hair was neatly tied back, his face calm, almost unreadable.
He sat with quiet composure, cutting into his food as though the noise of the restaurant didn't exist.
Around him, the others bantered, drinking and teasing, but Hiroshi's focus was entirely on the plate in front of him.
Thomas noticed this and smirked. "You know, Hiroshi, sometimes I wonder if food's the only thing you actually care about.
Look at you—everyone else talks, laughs, drinks, and here you are acting like roasted lamb is your long-lost lover."
Anthony chuckled while Lucas shook his head. "Don't tease him, Thomas. Some of us prefer peace over noise."
"Peace?" Thomas raised a brow. "Nah, this guy doesn't even look up once.
He wouldn't notice if a goddess herself walked in."
At those words, Lucas's eyes flicked toward the counter. "Funny you should say that."
There, sitting elegantly atop a polished stool, was a young elf woman.
She wore a gown far too fine for the humble restaurant—soft silk that shimmered faintly in the candlelight.
Her long hair was tied in a simple ponytail, yet even so, it carried a regal air. Her emerald eyes, though subtle, kept straying toward Hiroshi.
Sofia.
She did not openly stare, nor did she speak. Instead, she stole glances, quick and quiet, her lips pressed together as if she feared her thoughts might escape.
And yet, no matter how she tried, her gaze returned to the man in the corner—the one too absorbed in food to notice her at all.
"Oi, oi, Lucas," Thomas whispered with a grin, elbowing him. "You see that? She's been staring this way for a while now."
Anthony gave a low whistle. "An elf, too. Rare to see one here. And she's got taste, apparently."
Lucas's lips curved faintly. "Hiroshi doesn't even realize."
Thomas slammed his mug down, grinning like a fool. "Oh, I'll make sure he realizes."
Hiroshi finally looked up, blinking at Thomas. "What are you plotting now?"
Before anyone could stop him, Thomas shot to his feet and shouted across the restaurant.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Do you all know who you're eating beside tonight?!"
The chatter of the room died instantly.
All eyes turned toward their table. Hiroshi froze mid-bite, fork halfway to his mouth.
"Thomas—" he hissed under his breath, but Thomas had already puffed his chest out.
"This man here," Thomas boomed, pointing directly at Hiroshi, "is no ordinary swordsman!
This is Hiroshi—the Hero of Wisdom!
The one who defeated Vice Admiral Steve and even King Arthur of Senestia in a single battle!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Chairs scraped as people leaned forward, whispers rising like wind.
"Impossible…""Is that really him?""The hero of the war? Here?
In Guard village?"
Sofia's eyes widened. Her lips parted in disbelief, emerald gaze fixed firmly on the man now drowning in unwanted attention.
Hiroshi's jaw tightened. He slammed his fork down, face flushing with irritation.
"Thomas! Enough!" He shot to his feet, waving his hands as if he could scatter the murmurs away.
"Stop spouting nonsense! There's no need to shout about things that happened years ago."
But Thomas only laughed, slapping Hiroshi on the back.
"What, you embarrassed? Don't be! You should be proud!"
Hiroshi groaned, dragging a hand down his face. Lucas sighed, muttering, "You really don't know how to keep quiet, do you?" while Anthony buried his face in his palms.
The restaurant buzzed louder. Men and women leaned toward one another, recounting rumors they had heard, stories of Hiroshi's legendary duel.
Hiroshi felt dozens of eyes on him, burning hotter than any flame.
"Enough," he muttered again, sitting down with his head lowered. He shoveled food into his mouth, trying to drown his humiliation.
"I told you to stop drawing attention."
Thomas only grinned, clearly proud of himself.
Across the room, Sofia remained quiet, but her gaze was unwavering now. She had heard his name, his story.
The man before her was no ordinary guest—he was the very hero whispered of in countless taverns and courts.
Yet there he sat, red-faced, scolding his friend, doing everything he could to avoid attention. Her lips curled into the faintest smile.
---
When dinner finally ended, Hiroshi threw a pouch of coins onto the counter, muttering thanks without meeting anyone's gaze.
The restaurant owner's daughter scooped it up, bowing politely. Sofia, however, said nothing.
She only watched, emerald eyes following Hiroshi as he and his companions stepped out into the night.
The cool air greeted them, lanterns swaying gently in the breeze.
Lucas stretched his arms, Thomas hummed loudly, and Anthony adjusted his cloak.
But Hiroshi walked ahead in silence, his jaw still tight.
"Thomas," he said flatly, "next time you open your mouth like that, I'll sew it shut myself."
"Oh, come on!" Thomas laughed. "What's the point of being a hero if no one knows? You can't hide forever."
"I didn't come here to be admired," Hiroshi muttered. "I came for food."
They turned down the cobbled street, their boots clicking softly against the stones.
"Hiroshi!"
The voice rang out from behind them.
The group stopped. Hiroshi turned, brows furrowed.
Sofia ran toward him, her gown swaying with each step, hair brushing against her shoulders. In her hands, she held a few silver coins.
"You forgot your change," she said softly, slightly breathless.
Hiroshi blinked, surprised. He glanced at her hand, then at her face. Slowly, he reached out, careful not to brush her fingers as he took the coins.
"…Thank you," he murmured, voice low.
Sofia smiled faintly, her gaze lingering longer than necessary.
The lantern light shimmered in her emerald eyes as she whispered, "You're welcome," before stepping back.
For a moment, the world seemed to pause—the bustle of the village fading into silence.
Hiroshi stood frozen, coins clenched loosely in his hand, watching her turn and walk back toward the restaurant.
Thomas smirked knowingly. Lucas hid a small smile, while Anthony shook his head.
"Well, well," Thomas muttered. "Looks like the goddess did notice after all."
Hiroshi ignored him, turning away, though his ears burned faintly red.
---
From the shadows of the night, unseen by any of them, Shinra hovered. Ghostlike, weightless, watching.
His heart thudded in his chest as he looked between his father and the elf woman.
The way her eyes lingered, the awkward silence, the quiet tension—it was all so fragile, so human.
"…So this is how it began," he whispered to himself. His chest ached, torn between curiosity and wonder. "The first thread of their story."
The lanterns flickered in the breeze, casting long shadows across the cobbled street.
And in that fleeting moment—an exchanged smile, a forgotten handful of coins—destiny quietly began to weave its web.
The small village of Guard, tucked deep within the lands of Wisdom, was a quiet place.
By day, it bustled with traders and farmers. By night, the streets dimmed into soft lantern glow, giving the air of peace one could rarely find in cities.Inside the heart of the village stood a quaint restaurant, its wooden walls polished by years of laughter and meals shared.
The savory aroma of roasted meats and herb-seasoned bread seeped into the air, drawing in weary travelers and locals alike.
At one of the larger tables near the corner sat four men—Lucas, Thomas, Anthony, and Hiroshi.
Hiroshi, though only twenty-five, looked older in spirit. His black hair was neatly tied back, his face calm, almost unreadable.
He sat with quiet composure, cutting into his food as though the noise of the restaurant didn't exist.
Around him, the others bantered, drinking and teasing, but Hiroshi's focus was entirely on the plate in front of him.
Thomas noticed this and smirked. "You know, Hiroshi, sometimes I wonder if food's the only thing you actually care about.
Look at you—everyone else talks, laughs, drinks, and here you are acting like roasted lamb is your long-lost lover."
Anthony chuckled while Lucas shook his head. "Don't tease him, Thomas. Some of us prefer peace over noise."
"Peace?" Thomas raised a brow. "Nah, this guy doesn't even look up once.
He wouldn't notice if a goddess herself walked in."
At those words, Lucas's eyes flicked toward the counter. "Funny you should say that."
There, sitting elegantly atop a polished stool, was a young elf woman.
She wore a gown far too fine for the humble restaurant—soft silk that shimmered faintly in the candlelight.
Her long hair was tied in a simple ponytail, yet even so, it carried a regal air. Her emerald eyes, though subtle, kept straying toward Hiroshi.
Sofia.
She did not openly stare, nor did she speak. Instead, she stole glances, quick and quiet, her lips pressed together as if she feared her thoughts might escape.
And yet, no matter how she tried, her gaze returned to the man in the corner—the one too absorbed in food to notice her at all.
"Oi, oi, Lucas," Thomas whispered with a grin, elbowing him. "You see that? She's been staring this way for a while now."
Anthony gave a low whistle. "An elf, too. Rare to see one here. And she's got taste, apparently."
Lucas's lips curved faintly. "Hiroshi doesn't even realize."
Thomas slammed his mug down, grinning like a fool. "Oh, I'll make sure he realizes."
Hiroshi finally looked up, blinking at Thomas. "What are you plotting now?"
Before anyone could stop him, Thomas shot to his feet and shouted across the restaurant.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Do you all know who you're eating beside tonight?!"
The chatter of the room died instantly.
All eyes turned toward their table. Hiroshi froze mid-bite, fork halfway to his mouth.
"Thomas—" he hissed under his breath, but Thomas had already puffed his chest out.
"This man here," Thomas boomed, pointing directly at Hiroshi, "is no ordinary swordsman!
This is Hiroshi—the Hero of Wisdom!
The one who defeated Vice Admiral Steve and even King Arthur of Senestia in a single battle!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Chairs scraped as people leaned forward, whispers rising like wind.
"Impossible…""Is that really him?""The hero of the war? Here?
In Guard village?"
Sofia's eyes widened. Her lips parted in disbelief, emerald gaze fixed firmly on the man now drowning in unwanted attention.
Hiroshi's jaw tightened. He slammed his fork down, face flushing with irritation.
"Thomas! Enough!" He shot to his feet, waving his hands as if he could scatter the murmurs away.
"Stop spouting nonsense! There's no need to shout about things that happened years ago."
But Thomas only laughed, slapping Hiroshi on the back.
"What, you embarrassed? Don't be! You should be proud!"
Hiroshi groaned, dragging a hand down his face. Lucas sighed, muttering, "You really don't know how to keep quiet, do you?" while Anthony buried his face in his palms.
The restaurant buzzed louder. Men and women leaned toward one another, recounting rumors they had heard, stories of Hiroshi's legendary duel.
Hiroshi felt dozens of eyes on him, burning hotter than any flame.
"Enough," he muttered again, sitting down with his head lowered. He shoveled food into his mouth, trying to drown his humiliation.
"I told you to stop drawing attention."
Thomas only grinned, clearly proud of himself.
Across the room, Sofia remained quiet, but her gaze was unwavering now. She had heard his name, his story.
The man before her was no ordinary guest—he was the very hero whispered of in countless taverns and courts.
Yet there he sat, red-faced, scolding his friend, doing everything he could to avoid attention. Her lips curled into the faintest smile.
---
When dinner finally ended, Hiroshi threw a pouch of coins onto the counter, muttering thanks without meeting anyone's gaze.
The restaurant owner's daughter scooped it up, bowing politely. Sofia, however, said nothing.
She only watched, emerald eyes following Hiroshi as he and his companions stepped out into the night.
The cool air greeted them, lanterns swaying gently in the breeze.
Lucas stretched his arms, Thomas hummed loudly, and Anthony adjusted his cloak.
But Hiroshi walked ahead in silence, his jaw still tight.
"Thomas," he said flatly, "next time you open your mouth like that, I'll sew it shut myself."
"Oh, come on!" Thomas laughed. "What's the point of being a hero if no one knows? You can't hide forever."
"I didn't come here to be admired," Hiroshi muttered. "I came for food."
They turned down the cobbled street, their boots clicking softly against the stones.
"Hiroshi!"
The voice rang out from behind them.
The group stopped. Hiroshi turned, brows furrowed.
Sofia ran toward him, her gown swaying with each step, hair brushing against her shoulders. In her hands, she held a few silver coins.
"You forgot your change," she said softly, slightly breathless.
Hiroshi blinked, surprised. He glanced at her hand, then at her face. Slowly, he reached out, careful not to brush her fingers as he took the coins.
"…Thank you," he murmured, voice low.
Sofia smiled faintly, her gaze lingering longer than necessary.
The lantern light shimmered in her emerald eyes as she whispered, "You're welcome," before stepping back.
For a moment, the world seemed to pause—the bustle of the village fading into silence.
Hiroshi stood frozen, coins clenched loosely in his hand, watching her turn and walk back toward the restaurant.
Thomas smirked knowingly. Lucas hid a small smile, while Anthony shook his head.
"Well, well," Thomas muttered. "Looks like the goddess did notice after all."
Hiroshi ignored him, turning away, though his ears burned faintly red.
---
From the shadows of the night, unseen by any of them, Shinra hovered. Ghostlike, weightless, watching.
His heart thudded in his chest as he looked between his father and the elf woman.
The way her eyes lingered, the awkward silence, the quiet tension—it was all so fragile, so human.
"…So this is how it began," he whispered to himself. His chest ached, torn between curiosity and wonder. "The first thread of their story."
The lanterns flickered in the breeze, casting long shadows across the cobbled street.
And in that fleeting moment—an exchanged smile, a forgotten handful of coins—destiny quietly began to weave its web.
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