Chapter 13: A Step Toward Change

The Dwarven Kingdom – Royal Hall

The hall was vast, lit by massive torches fixed upon the ancient stone walls. King Ragnar sat upon his throne, adorned with gold and iron, surrounded by banners of his realm and relics of old hunters.

King Ragnar (in a deep voice): I understand… you are here to negotiate with my kingdom. But Mond does not need negotiations—I am an old friend of Rigon. We were on the same team once, back when we were hunters.

Aris (bowing slightly, her voice calm yet firm): I am here on behalf of Y, not in the name of Mond.

Ragnar raised an eyebrow, leaning forward, curiosity now etched on his face.

King Ragnar: And what is it that Y seeks from my kingdom?

Aris slowly reached into her cloak, producing a tightly sealed scroll of leather, and placed it before the king with respect. Ragnar gestured to his guards, then barked an order:

King Ragnar: Stand ready… Thoram!

As he carefully unfolded the scroll, his expression shifted little by little. His tone turned contemplative:

King Ragnar: It seems what you ask is not merely a change for the kingdom… but for the entire order itself.

Heavy footsteps echoed as Thoram entered, broad-shouldered and commanding, his very presence enough to instill fear throughout the hall.

Thoram: You summoned me?

King Ragnar: Look at this.

Thoram strode to the throne, took the scroll with his calloused hands, and studied it intently. After a moment, he lifted his head, astonished:

Thoram: This… is a kingdom? Who designed such a plan?

Aris: It was Y.

Ragnar remained silent for a moment, then allowed a faint yet serious smile to spread across his face.

King Ragnar: So this is his intent… What do you think, Thoram?

Thoram: The design is sound in many ways, though there are obvious flaws. Still… if it succeeds, it will change much.

Aris (with resolve): This is our request.

King Ragnar (slowly): And what will we gain if we accept?

Aris: Then tell me—what is your price?

Ragnar rose from his throne, his heavy steps echoing through the chamber. He turned back to Aris, voice steady:

King Ragnar: I do not object to helping, but I have one personal request.

Aris: A personal request?

King Ragnar: Yes. I want Y to face a certain person. That is my condition. I had intended to ask him myself, but it seems he is preoccupied.

Aris (narrowing her gaze): I see… using negotiations to increase the chance of acceptance. Then tell me—who is this person?

Ragnar chuckled briefly, returning to his throne, his voice resonating with power:

King Ragnar: I told you that Rigon and I once shared a team… In truth, we were three.

He lowered his head slightly, as if old memories weighed upon his heart, then raised his gaze with steady resolve:

King Ragnar: The third was a woman named Milena.

Aris (stunned): You mean… Milena, the Queen of Hunters?

⸻

The Samurai Empire – The Emperor’s Palace

The scene shifted from the blazing grandeur of a northern hall to the serene dignity of the East. A long crimson carpet stretched across the palace floor, golden lanterns hanging above. Upon the throne sat Emperor Raiden, clad in his resplendent formal robes, his eyes filled with both warmth and authority.

Emperor Raiden: It seems your choice to become a hunter was the right one.

Kaguya (standing firm, dressed in an elegant black samurai attire): I agree.

Raiden: Then… what is your next goal?

Kaguya: To continue alongside Aris.

Raiden nodded in quiet understanding, stroking his chin.

Raiden: I see. And what do you seek now?

Kaguya: To sign an agreement with Y’s guild.

Raiden: I will grant it… but on one condition.

Kaguya: And what is that?

Raiden: We ask for the right to enter your guild, and the assurance of protection whenever we come to visit.

Kaguya raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, then smiled with confidence.

Kaguya: Is that all?

Raiden (with heartfelt warmth): For parents, nothing is more precious than seeing their children.

Kaguya: Then we agree—on the same terms we discussed.

Raiden (with paternal calm): Take care of yourself, Kaguya.

Kaguya (with a gentle smile): Do not worry… I have wonderful people who protect me.

She turned and walked away with quiet grace, her smile never fading. From beside the throne, Akimeh watched her with proud eyes.

Akimeh (teasing warmly): You’ve grown stronger, wiser… and most of all, more beautiful.

Raiden (smiling): Beautiful, just like her mother.

Akimeh (laughing): And strong, just like her father.

In Mond – A Secret Chamber

The room was narrow and dim, lit only by small oil lamps fixed on the stone walls. Three figures sat around a long wooden table. At its center lay a scroll and a sealed letter. Silence ruled the chamber, so heavy that even their breaths seemed to echo against the walls.

Princess Rosarie sat quietly, hiding her unease behind steady eyes. Beside her, Leona’s father, Neval, remained stiff-faced, watching every movement with scrutiny. The third—an unfamiliar man—leaned back in his chair, wearing a cold smile.

Krayden (breaking the silence): It seems I have underestimated you all.

Within himself:

“I had the upper hand… yet this scroll before me, and that letter in particular… have changed everything.

Trade is like the waves: either you ride them, or you drown beneath them.”

A strange gleam lit his eyes, and a smile of dangerous amusement crept across his face.

⸻

Not long ago – the same chamber

Krayden had been lounging with his feet propped upon the table, sighing in boredom.

Krayden (muttering): This kingdom is tedious… I am one of the greatest merchants alive, and tedium does not suit me. Still, an opportunity like this is not to be wasted.

Unlike the other realms, Mond is weak in negotiations. I could make a fortune here.

The door swung open abruptly. He straightened in his seat, surprise flickering in his eyes as he saw who entered.

Krayden (to himself):

“So they replaced their negotiators… a logical move. But for the princess herself to sit at the table—that is unexpected.

And who is this man with the spectacles…?”

Rosarie sat gracefully across from him, offering a diplomatic smile.

Rosarie: Forgive the delay. My name is Rosarie, and this is Lord Neval, the new head of commerce in Mond. We will be the ones to negotiate with you.

Krayden rose halfway, bowing lightly.

Krayden: My name is Krayden… an honor to meet you, Princess Rosarie.

A faint shiver ran through Rosarie’s heart.

Rosarie (thinking):

“I never told him I was a princess…!”

Rosarie (calmly): Then let us begin.

Krayden: Very well. What does Mond seek of me this time?

Rosarie: First, accurate information about certain northern realms.

Second, continuation of the existing agreements under the same terms.

And finally… we want to buy all of your alf supply at half the price.

Krayden’s brows shot up. He chuckled softly.

Krayden: Slow down… this is not negotiation, it’s pressure. As you know, it matters little who sits across from me—what matters is profit.

Half the price… intriguing, but I refuse.

Neval (cutting in): Isn’t money all you desire?

Krayden: Money is good… but not everything. I desire more. And now… I believe our time is over.

He rose toward the door, but Neval slid a large scroll onto the table and slowly unrolled it. Krayden’s eyes widened as he read—and then he burst into laughter.

Krayden: What madness is this?! Even I have limits to my insanity!

He laughed harder, pounding the table with his palm.

Krayden: So this is what you’re planning…

But Neval calmly drew a candle closer, letting its flame devour the scroll.

Neval (coldly): I do not understand what you mean. We are not planning anything.

Silence weighed down the room once more, each gaze heavy with unspoken meanings.

⸻

Back to the present

Krayden (quietly): So… I have walked into a trap. But remember this—my eyes and ears are everywhere. I know this kingdom’s secret.

Rosarie (with a faint smile): As expected from the King of Merchants… a man not to be underestimated.

Krayden (a low chuckle): And the same can be said of you. Life has been dull lately… but now there is excitement again.

Rosarie (fixing her gaze on him): By the way… do you know someone named ******?

Krayden’s expression faltered, if only for a moment.

Rosarie: You are not the only one with eyes and ears.

Neval interjected: So… what do you say to adjusting the terms?

Krayden (sipping the water before him): I’m listening.

Neval: We will not alter our requests. But what if we fix the price of alf permanently? We can discuss the value later.

Krayden considered for a moment.

Krayden: Acceptable… but?

Neval (sliding a sealed letter across the table): I know what you will say. That is why… this letter is for you.

Krayden opened it, eyes scanning intently. Slowly, an unfamiliar smile spread across his face.

Krayden: Fascinating… it seems you have someone quite interesting. I accept your terms… but with one condition. Next time, I want to meet the writer of this letter.

Rosarie (shaking her head): Unfortunately, the writer travels often. But… chances are, you will encounter him soon enough.

Krayden: Very well.

He tucked the letter into his coat and stood.

Krayden: As for the price—let it be half the value of our first transaction. After that, we fix it as the permanent rate. Agreed?

Neval: Agreed.

Krayden (with a short laugh): Good… it seems the days of boredom are over. Until next time.

He strode out confidently.

Rosarie exhaled in relief.

Rosarie: It seems we obtained everything we wanted.

She turned to Neval.

Rosarie: By the way… what exactly did Y write in that letter?

Neval (with mystery): Only Krayden knows. But… it is clear he was impressed.

Rosarie (whispering): Indeed… and his last condition proves it.

In a Carriage Along the Roads of the Dwarven Kingdom

The carriage rattled slowly along the narrow, rocky path, the light of torches flickering inside and casting restless shadows across the faces of its three passengers. King Ragnar sat firmly on his broad seat, his gaze sharp, his features carved with steel. Beside him, Ares held a small scroll in her hand, while Kaguya sat across from them, wrapped in cautious silence.

Kaguya (serious): I understand the idea… but do you truly think Milena will care about a challenge from someone unknown?

King Ragnar (in a heavy calm): That is why Ares and I devised a plan.

Kaguya (raising an eyebrow): A plan?

Ares leaned forward slightly, her tone measured, her eyes reflecting quiet resolve.

Ares: As you said, it’s nearly impossible to demand a direct fight with Milena. But… what if one of her weak subjects were to be turned into a strong warrior?

Kaguya (after a pause): That would certainly catch her attention… though I doubt it will be enough on its own.

King Ragnar: In truth, it depends on the one we obtain… and how far they can grow.

Ares (continuing calmly): At first, we’ll pretend that we seek an alliance between our guild and Milena’s kingdom. King Ragnar’s presence will lend credibility. Then, we offer them the chance to train just one person.

She paused briefly, then added:

But there are drawbacks.

Kaguya (directly): You mean the person.

Ares: Exactly. We won’t have the option to choose who it is. And the time needed to train them… will make it more difficult.

King Ragnar (with a weary smile): I understand. If it were up to me, I’d have faced her long ago. But I know Milena well… and I believe Y has a real chance with her. I don’t know why, but I feel every great warrior should face Y at least once in their life.

Ares (quietly): Y himself asked us for these negotiations. That alone is in our favor.

Kaguya (confidently): And the drawbacks aren’t as bad as you think. Y can train the chosen one.

Ares (hesitant): True… but it’s more complicated. The person has to be interesting enough for Y to decide to train them.

Unlike others, Y does not fear exposing his techniques or teaching his opponents… but he sets his own conditions before helping anyone.

She allowed herself a faint smile, recalling his words.

Ares: He once told me: “Everyone deserves help… but in moderation. Help differs depending on the person. The diligent earn the greater share of support.”

King Ragnar (with a faint smile): A youth with the mind of a wise man… rare to find in these times.

Ares (seriously): But remember… Y will not like our plan in the slightest.

Kaguya (sighing): I expected that.

The carriage jolted violently as it rolled over a large stone. Ragnar straightened in his seat, his voice cutting through the dim space.

King Ragnar: Let’s rest now… we’ll arrive soon. When the time comes, I’ll speak to Y myself.

Inside a Tavern in the Dwarven Kingdom

The tavern roared with noise, the smell of liquor and roasted bread mingling with pipe smoke and drunken laughter. Yet in a dim corner near the wall sat a man unlike any other.

His hair was short and white, his thick, well-groomed beard concealing half his features. He looked like a mountain in the midst of a storm: immovable, unshaken. His attire bore the mark of the Samurai Kingdom—a faded gray robe, traditional wooden sandals, and a straw hat resting on the table beside him. At his side leaned a long staff of dark wood, its surface worn smooth from years of use, hiding within it a blade revealed only when needed.

Garb strode in with confident steps, shoving aside a few patrons as he made his way to the table. He studied the man for a moment, then broke into a wide grin.

Garb (teasing): I never thought the one they call “The White Phantom” would turn into an old man who enjoys his drink.

The man raised his cup calmly, his eyes never leaving the liquid within.

Kyojuro (in a deep voice): On the contrary… time has only honed this body into a sharper weapon.

He took a slow sip.

Garb: Kyojuro… I need a traveling companion. What do you say?

Kyojuro (without hesitation): Not interested.

Garb (with a small chuckle): All the drinks will be on me.

For the first time, Kyojuro lifted his head. His eyes glimmered beneath the tavern’s lights, and a faint smile touched his lips.

Kyojuro: Then what are you waiting for? Let’s go.

Garb burst into laughter, slapping the table with his hand.

Garb: You haven’t changed at all, Kyojuro!

Kyojuro (with a side smile): Compared to you… I’m still a young man.

He chuckled softly.

Kyojuro (inquiring): Where have you been all this time?

Garb (cryptically): A long story… I’ll explain on the road. Everything’s ready. Let’s go.

Kyojuro (rising, staff in hand): I’ll go anywhere… as long as there’s drink.

The two left the tavern together, the patrons’ eyes following them as if witnessing an ancient legend walking once more among men.

⸻

At the Gates of Mond

At last, Y arrived swiftly at the kingdom. The cold wind tugged at his long coat as he cut through the streets without pause, not stopping until he reached his home.

He pushed the door open with force, only to be met with the sight before him:

Inside, King sat with his usual dignity. Ash leaned against the window, Licht toyed with a few papers, Leona stood with her arms crossed, and Lara wore her calm smile.

They had all been waiting for him.