Renn returned to the capital under a sky that felt unchanged—too unchanged, as if the world had decided to continue without acknowledging what had been lost.
The gates of the Royal Knight district opened without delay. No ceremony followed his arrival. No announcement. No applause. Only recognition.
The training hall was where the others waited.
Steel racks lined the walls. Light filtered down in thin, quiet bands through high windows. The air carried its usual scent of metal and Aether residue—but even that familiarity felt distant today.
Kael Draven was the first to notice him enter. For once, he didn't speak immediately. Neither did Lio. Seris stepped away from the shadowed pillar she had been leaning against. Taren shifted his weight near the entrance, unusually still.
There was a brief silence—one that did not feel like hesitation, but understanding. Kael finally broke it, but not with his usual tone.
"…Renn."
"I heard."
Lio lowered his gaze slightly. "I'm sorry."
Simple. Direct. No excess words. Seris followed after a moment.
"…May her rest be peaceful."
Even Kael, who rarely softened his voice for anything, clicked his tongue faintly and looked away.
"…Yeah."
"That's rough."
Taren rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"I—I'm sorry too."
It wasn't polished. It wasn't composed. But it was sincere. And somehow, that mattered more.
Before anything else could be said, the doors of the hall opened. The clang of steel had already faded when the messenger knight arrived—armored steps echoing sharply against the polished stone floor.
"Renn Valehart. Kael Draven. Lio Vance. Seris Valenne. Taren Veylor."
All five turned at once.
"The General summons you. Immediately."
No one questioned it. They only sheathed their weapons, adjusted their posture, and followed.
General Vaelric's office was colder than the rest of the capital.
The five stood in formation before his desk—straight-backed, disciplined, silent. Vaelric did not waste time.
"A situation has emerged within the Aurelian Kingdom," he began.
He placed a sealed report on the table and slid it forward.
"Location: Grayspire Village. Northern mining district. Previously operational under crystal excavation permits. The mine was officially closed three months ago due to structural instability."
His eyes did not leave them.
"Since closure, abnormal Aether readings have been recorded in escalating intensity."
A second document followed.
"Aether leakage has exceeded natural threshold levels. The environment has become saturated. Nearby settlement is compromised. Grayspire Village is now classified as a ghost site."
Kael's jaw tightened slightly. "Civilian casualties?
"
Vaelric answered without emotion. "Unconfirmed total. Survivors are no longer coherent population. Reports indicate systemic collapse of settlement structure."
He tapped the report once.
"Additionally—Aether exposure has caused severe dermal corruption in remaining individuals. Skin degradation, crystallization, and instability of bodily functions have been observed."
Seris's eyes narrowed. "Corrupted Aether residue…"
Vaelric continued.
"You are not assigned for combat engagement. This is an investigation mission. Confirm the source of the anomaly. Identify the origin of leakage. Assess structural risk. Extract data if possible."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"No pursuit of hostile entities unless directly necessary for survival. No escalation. This is reconnaissance."
He turned slightly toward Renn.
"You requested an expedition for controlled Aether training under real conditions. This mission will serve as field exposure."
A final sheet was placed down.
"There is one additional directive."
He paused—just enough to ensure full attention.
"Within Grayspire's proximity, an abandoned shaft has been identified as the likely epicenter of the leakage. If confirmed, report immediately. Do not attempt stabilization without authorization."
The journey to Grayspire was silent.
The roads leading into the northern mining district were no longer maintained. Cracked stone paths gave way to blackened soil where Aether residue clung unnaturally to the ground like frost.
And then they saw it.
The village.
Grayspire stood intact in shape—but not in life.
Buildings remained upright, yet their surfaces were veined with faint glowing fractures, as if reality itself had been strained and repaired poorly. The air shimmered faintly with unstable Aether particles.
No sound of life remained.
As they passed the first row of houses, a lone villager appeared at the side of the road.
He did not look at them.
He did not react.
His body moved slowly, mechanically, skin marked with pale, crystallized lesions crawling along his arms and neck—signs of prolonged Aether exposure.
He simply walked past them, dragging a broken wooden bucket, eyes unfocused, as if the concept of visitors no longer registered in his mind.
No one spoke.
Then—
A faint movement.
Near the edge of a broken structure, a small figure stood. Still but unsteady.
A girl.
Her skin was pale—not from fear, but from something deeper. Her posture sagged as if standing itself was a burden. Her breathing came uneven, shallow, like something unseen was draining her.
Renn stopped.
The others followed his gaze. The girl tried to speak. Her lips parted, but only air escaped.
"…My fath….er"
Her voice failed before it could form. She swayed. Taren moved immediately. He stepped forward and crouched in front of her, careful, controlled.
"Hey… you're alright," he said gently. "We're here."
Her eyes struggled to focus. Then found him, barely...
"…d-down...there…"
Her hand lifted weakly. Trembling. Pointing toward the mining shaft. The motion alone seemed to exhaust her. Taren's expression tightened. But he nodded.
"I understand."
He placed a steady hand on her shoulder.
"We'll take care of him," he said. "I promise."
The girl didn't respond.
But her body steadied—just slightly. The girl handed a bird pendant carved from a wood. Taren received it. Behind them, Kael Draven glanced toward the direction she pointed.
"…Whatever's down there," he muttered, "it's spreading up."
Lio Vance narrowed his gaze.
"…The village itself isn't damaged. Which means the source hasn't surfaced."
Seris Valenne had already shifted her attention. Toward the mine entrance. Renn turned.
"…We must move."
No hesitation followed. They left the girl behind, but not without purpose. The path to the mining shaft descended gradually, the light thinning with every step.
The air changed first. It grew heavy. Damp.
Then—
The smell came. Rotten, and it grows heavy and heavy until they cannot endure the smell.
It filled the air so completely it felt almost physical—settling in the lungs, coating the throat.
Taren slowed slightly, his expression tightening. "…That's strong…"
Kael frowned."…That's not normal decay."
They stepped into the shaft.
The interior stretched wider than expected. Reinforced beams lined the structure, though some had begun to crack under pressure. Mining tools lay scattered across the ground—abandoned where they fell. Tracks bent slightly out of place.
Renn's gaze shifted ahead.
Toward the deeper shaft. The darkness there felt different. Not just absence of light, but presence.
"…Stay alert," Renn said.
They moved deeper. Step by step, into a mine that held no bodies. Yet carried the weight of something that should have been there.