The morning sun stretched lazily over the hills, bathing the farm in gold. Birds chirped overhead, and the wind danced through the crops, carrying the soft scent of dew and dust.
Inside the creaky old farmhouse, Grandpa Salatin sat slumped in his patched-up rocking chair, a thick bandage wrapped around his torso. His chest rose and fell slowly, but steadily.
"It's the new hot thing on the market!" Salatin declared, waving a folded flyer like a royal decree.
Matsu, crouched by the door and tying his boots, groaned. "You said that last week about Sunblossom Radish."
Salatin huffed. "Listen here, boy. This ain't nonsense. This wheat? It makes horses stronger. I'm telling you, people are gonna go crazy for it."
"Sure. Sounds totally not like a scam," Matsu muttered, rolling his eyes.
Salatin jabbed a finger toward the road. "Guess it's about time to go."
"You're not going anywhere like that," Matsu said, leaning against the doorframe. "You can barely lift a spoon."
Salatin scoffed and shoved himself against the armrests. "Look—!" he barked, trying to stand.
CRACK.
His back betrayed him with an audible pop.
"THAT'S NOT EVEN AN INJURY!" Matsu shouted, half horrified, half exasperated, as the old man froze mid-rise, eyes bulging with pain.
Salatin groaned and sank back into the chair, defeated by gravity and age. "Alright, alright," he muttered, waving him off. "I guess you'll have to do it."
"Me?" Matsu blinked. "Why do I have to do it?"
Salatin grunted. "Because I told you."
Matsu sighed. "...Fine. If I have to."
It would be his first time leaving the village alone—his first real glimpse of the world beyond the fields.
Salatin leaned forward, wincing. "One more thing."
Matsu looked up from tightening the saddle straps. "Yeah?"
"You remember that bastard from yesterday?"
"Hard to forget," Matsu muttered, rubbing the bruise still lingering on his side.
Salatin nodded toward the window. "You saw the blue feather on his armor?"
"Yeah. Looked stupid."
"That means he was a Lieutenant," Salatin said, eyes narrowing. "But there's one rank higher."
Matsu frowned. "A rank higher?"
Salatin's tone darkened. "If the feather's red... go the other way."
"Why?"
The old man didn't answer immediately. He stared out across the fields, golden sunlight reflecting in his tired eyes.
"Because if it's red," he said at last, voice heavy, "it means they're a Captain. And Captains..."
He paused.
"Their strength is out of this world."
Matsu said nothing. He simply nodded, stepped outside, climbed onto the cart, and patted Caesar—the stubborn old donkey Salatin insisted was a "retired war horse."
"Let's go, Caesar," he whispered.
The cart rumbled toward the village square, one wheel squeaking miserably with every turn.
Near the old stone fountain stood three familiar faces: Jinto, Rika, and Lolo, all waving as he approached.
Jinto squinted, then burst out laughing. "What the hell is that?!"
Matsu sat straighter, puffing with pride. "This? My grandpa's horse."
"Seriously?" Rika snorted. "That's not a horse—that's a donkey."
Matsu glanced down at Caesar, who stared blankly into the distance.
"...You know," he muttered, "the knights' horses did look kinda different."
Still, he patted Caesar's bony flank. "Don't worry, Caesar. You're way cooler than those snobby thoroughbreds."
Caesar blinked once.
Then—CHOMP.
"OW! STUPID HORSE!" Matsu howled as Caesar bit his arm and yanked.
"NOT A HORSE!" the three shouted in unison.
Grumbling, Matsu slid off the cart and rubbed his arm. "I'm just running an errand anyway. Grandpa wants me to fetch some 'super wheat.' Apparently it makes horses stronger or something."
Rika crossed her arms with a smirk. "That old man is as greedy as ever."
Lolo stepped forward shyly, hands clasped behind her back. "Still... thank you, Matsu. For yesterday. For protecting us."
Jinto's expression turned serious. "You didn't have to step in. But you did. I won't forget that."
Matsu scratched the back of his head. "I just... couldn't let that guy walk all over us."
"We know," Rika said, softer now. "That's why it mattered."
Jinto puffed out his chest. "Because of you, I'm gonna train harder. One day I'll beat up two knights. Maybe three."
"I want to study medicine," Lolo added. "So next time something happens... I can help."
Rika looked toward the hills. "I want to leave this village someday. Do something big."
Matsu blinked, suddenly overwhelmed. "You guys..."
Caesar's ears twitched.
Then, without warning, the donkey let out a shriek somewhere between a battle cry and a kettle exploding—and bolted.
Matsu scrambled forward, but too late. His foot had slipped into a loop of the wagon harness, and the moment Caesar lunged, the leather cinched tight around his ankle.
"WAIT—WAIT, NO—CAESAR! STUPID HORSE!"
"STILL NOT A HORSE!" Jinto, Rika, and Lolo shouted after him.
The next thing Matsu knew, he was being dragged down the road, dirt flying into his mouth, pebbles smacking his forehead, limbs flailing behind him like a scarecrow in a hurricane.
"STOOOOP! YOU STUPID FOUR-LEGGED TRAITOR!" he screamed.
***
Meanwhile...
Far from the fields and sunlit earth, deep within a crumbling half-buried fortress, Sir Caldras knelt on stone blackened by old fire.
The chamber was vast, barren, and cold—no banners, no tapestries, no trace of warmth. Only cracked columns, scorched walls, and silence.
Once, this place had been a military outpost. Now it was a ruin, quietly repurposed at the edge of town.
Standing before Caldras was a cloaked man with long orange hair falling across his face. A single red feather adorned the shoulder plate of his armor, swaying gently with each movement.
Captain Erber.
He listened in silence as Caldras gave his report, shame dripping from every word. When the confession ended, the room remained still for a long moment.
Then—
"I see..." Erber said softly. "So you were defeated... by trash."
He stepped forward, boots echoing against the stone. Caldras didn't dare raise his head.
Erber stopped before him.
Then, with disturbingly gentle care, he placed a hand atop Caldras's head.
"Then that makes you even worse than trash."
The instant the words left his lips, flames erupted.
FWOOOM.
Caldras barely had time to scream. Fire swallowed him whole, spiraling upward in a blaze of blue and red. Heat burst through the chamber in a violent wave—then vanished.
Silence returned.
Where Caldras had knelt remained only scorched stone... and a heap of smoking armor.
In the far corner, two lower-ranked soldiers, Oldot and Babel, stared with pale faces.
"C-Captain's Artifact is terrifying..." Oldot whispered.
"Yeah..." Babel breathed. "An Artifact that can set anything ablaze..."
Neither spoke again.
Wind moaned through the broken rafters above. A vulture perched silently in the shattered window.
And beyond those ruined walls...
A lone donkey pulled a rattling cart down the dirt road, dragging a screaming boy through the dust behind it.
Completely unaware of the execution that had just taken place in the heart of the town he was heading toward.