Interlude 1

Deep within the forest there was a place left completely bare—whether it was the green of plants or even the blue of water. All that remained there was the brown of a completely flat and featureless patch of ground.

Almost as if some beast perfectly gouged a part of the forest and threw it away to clear some space.

A lone man was sitting there.

He was sitting cross-legged and completely motionless, his eyes closed and his arms on his lap, as if he was meditating.

Above and around him, time passed. Sun and clouds lazily travelled over the sky. He remained perfectly still this entire time.

The man had a rotund, wide body that made him look fat. He lacked even a single hair and wore only wide leather pants. His skin seemed to glisten in the sun, but not even a lone bead of sweat covered his body.

The man’s fleshy mouth was distorted upwards—in a smile. As if he was being vitalized by the sun bearing down on him.

Unmoving, indomitable, undisturbed.

This was the zone he and he alone controlled, and no one would dare approach him without an invitation. The surroundings were eerily silent except for the rustle of the wind. Not even birds and insects made their calls around here.

Or would they? Just as the sun started vanishing over the treetops of the thick forest, a visitor arrived.

It was a small, furry creature. A squirrel.

Faintly chattering, the squirrel entered the barren zone, twitched as if hesitating and then ran all the way to the man.

If the man had noticed his arrival, he showed no signs of it. His small furry friend reached all the way to his legs and climbed up to his shoulders as if he was merely a feature of the land.

Once again, the man made no move whatsoever.

Reaching all the way to his face, the squirrel then started squeaking urgently. It put its head right next to the man’s ears as if talking directly to it.

A few moments passed.

“…I see.”

For the first time in many hours, the man’s mouth stirred. His voice was loud but choppy, as if his muscles weren’t used to it, or perhaps as if something was stuck in his mouth.

The squirrel chirped some more.

“It is time for my directive, then.” Next, the man slowly, slowly opened his eyes into slits. They had the color of rusted metal, cold and lacking any spark of life. “Should I call Squeaky? …No, there is no need for that.”

The squirrel twitched a little but said nothing, simply waiting on top of its master’s shoulders.

At length, the man closed his eyes again but moved no other muscle before he spoke again.

“Fine, then. I shall act as the vanguard of the Three Warriors.”

In order to follow his mistress’ orders.

In order to please the one residing above her.

As well as… in order to fulfill the prophecy.

“I will tell Squads A, B, and C that the hunt is on,” said One.