The door opened with a bit more energy this time.

Aiko stepped in first, a confident grin already on her face, while Ryuji followed just behind her, far less expressive but with that quiet certainty in his posture that usually meant one thing, they had found what they were looking for.

“We got it,” Aiko announced immediately, like she’d been waiting to say it the entire walk back. “And not just a carriage. The perfect one.”

Tetsuo glanced up from where he had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “…That’s what you said last time about food.”

“That was perfect,” Aiko shot back without hesitation.

Ryuji exhaled lightly, stepping further into the room. “This is different,” he said. “It’s actually good.”

Shunjiro raised a brow. “That convincing, huh?”

Aiko placed a hand on her hip. “You’ll see when you get there.”

Yoshinori didn’t respond right away. His eyes moved between the two of them, reading the lack of exaggeration in Ryuji’s tone more than Aiko’s confidence. After a second, he gave a small nod. “…If you’re both in agreement, then it meets the necessary standards.”

“That’s the nicest way you’ve ever said ‘good job,’” Aiko said, grinning.

Itsuki smiled faintly at that, her attention shifting briefly toward Shunjiro, as if checking that everything was still on track. He gave a small nod in return.

That was enough.

“Then let’s move,” Yoshinori said.

The room shifted immediately.

There was no hesitation now, no loose ends left to tie. Packs were lifted, straps adjusted, final checks made in quick, practiced motions. What had been neatly organized minutes ago was now in motion, each of them falling into rhythm without needing direction.

Tetsuo slung one of the heavier packs over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. “Alright, let’s see this ‘perfect’ carriage,” he muttered.

“You’re gonna like it,” Aiko replied.

“I doubt that.”

“You will.”

Ryuji shook his head slightly as they moved toward the door. “You say that about everything.”

“And I’m right most of the time.”

“Yeah, no.”

They stepped out together.

All six of them.

The walk back through the city felt different now, not because the streets had changed, but because they had. There was a quiet weight behind their movement, something more intentional. People passed by, unaware, the normal flow of Radiance continuing around them, but for Illumina, this was a departure.

Not just from the dorm.

From routine.

From the known.

The carriage came into view soon after.

And for a brief moment no one spoke.

Tetsuo blinked once. “…Okay.”

Shunjiro stepped a little closer, eyes scanning it. “…Yeah, this is actually solid.”

Itsuki walked up beside them, her gaze soft but observant as she looked over the structure, the horses, the space. “It’s… really nice,” she said quietly.

Yoshinori took a few steps around it, inspecting the frame, the reinforcements, the balance. His hand pressed lightly against the side before he gave a small, approving nod.

“This will work,” he said.

That was the final confirmation.

Aiko folded her arms, satisfied. “Told you.”

Ryuji didn’t say anything, but the faint smirk on his face said enough.

They didn’t waste time after that.

One by one, they began loading their things. Packs were secured carefully, heavier items placed strategically to keep the carriage balanced. Yoshinori adjusted positioning more than once, ensuring weight distribution wouldn’t slow them down or strain the structure over long distances.

Itsuki checked every strap twice.

Tetsuo lifted anything that looked remotely heavy without complaint.

Ryuji handled the front, making sure everything near the driver’s position was clear and efficient.

Aiko moved between all of them, sometimes helping, sometimes just watching, clearly enjoying the process.

Shunjiro paused for a moment before placing his bag inside.

Just a second.

Then he set it down.

And that was it.

Everything was in place.

The door to the carriage closed with a soft, final sound.

They gathered just outside it.

For a brief moment, no one moved.

Then Yoshinori spoke.

“Travel time is approximately three to four days,” he said, already shifting into planning mode. “That gives us a window to prepare further.”

Tetsuo leaned against the side of the carriage. “Prepare for what exactly? We get there, we look for his brother, right?”

“It’s not that simple,” Yoshinori replied. “We’re entering a different kingdom. Different structure. Different guild system. Information won’t be as accessible as it is here.”

Ryuji nodded slightly. “We’ll need a way to track movement. If they’ve already left, we’re chasing something that’s already ahead of us.”

Aiko tilted her head. “Or we get lucky.”

“Luck is not a strategy,” Yoshinori said flatly.

“It works sometimes.”

“It fails more often.”

Itsuki stepped in gently, her voice soft but grounding. “We can do both,” she said. “Plan… and hope.”

That quieted it.

Shunjiro looked at all of them, then at the carriage, then back again.

“…We gather information first,” he said. “Guild halls. Ports. Any record of high-rank movement. If they were there recently, someone would’ve seen something.”

Yoshinori nodded. “That’s the correct approach.”

Ryuji added, “We should also watch for patterns. SSS-ranked squads don’t move randomly. There’s always a reason.”

Tetsuo exhaled. “So… we ask around, follow leads, and don’t do anything stupid.”

Aiko smiled. “That last part might be hard.”

Tetsuo glanced at her. “Speak for yourself.”

Shunjiro let out a small breath, the tension in him settling, not gone, but controlled.

“…We’ve got time to figure it out,” he said.

The carriage rolled forward with a steady creak of wood and leather, the horses easing into motion as the wheels began to turn against the stone streets of Radiance. 

The gates passed behind them slowly, the towering white stone giving way to open road, the warmth of the city fading into the wider stretch of the Light Continent. The path ahead opened into long, winding terrain, familiar at first… then gradually less so.

Inside the carriage, the movement settled into a rhythm.

Wood creaked softly.

Wheels rolled.

The faint sound of hooves struck in steady repetition.

Shunjiro sat near the front, his gaze fixed ahead, focused, already somewhere beyond the road in front of them.

“We can cut the time down,” he said after a moment. “If we keep moving, rotate rest, push the horses a bit, two days, maybe.”

Yoshinori didn’t even look up at first. “No.”

The response was immediate.

Flat.

Shunjiro frowned slightly. “We don’t have to stop as often. If we-”

“We are not pushing it to two days,” Yoshinori repeated, this time lifting his gaze. His tone wasn’t harsh, but it carried weight. “This is our first long-distance travel outside controlled assignments. We don’t gamble efficiency against exhaustion.”

Shunjiro leaned back slightly, exhaling. “It’s not gambling. It’s just-”

“It is,” Yoshinori cut in, calmly but firmly. “Because you’re not accounting for variables.”

That slowed him.

Yoshinori continued, his voice measured, analytical as always. “Terrain shifts. Horse fatigue. Unexpected delays. Road conditions. Potential threats. Any one of those extends travel time. Ignoring them doesn’t remove them.”

Tetsuo stretched slightly from his seat. “So basically… don’t try to speedrun the continent.”

Aiko smirked. “You say that like it wouldn’t be fun.”

“It wouldn’t be,” Yoshinori replied.

Ryuji leaned against the side of the carriage, arms loosely crossed. “He’s right,” he said. “If we burn out early, we’re worse off when we actually get there.”

Shunjiro didn’t argue immediately.

But he didn’t agree either.

“…Three to four days,” he muttered.

“Minimum,” Yoshinori corrected. “If conditions stay favorable.”

Itsuki shifted slightly beside Shunjiro, her voice softer but grounded. “We’ll get there,” she said. “Pushing too hard now won’t make that part easier.”

Shunjiro glanced at her.

That steadied him.

“…Yeah,” he said after a moment.

Yoshinori gave a small nod, then shifted the conversation forward. “Our route is already set,” he said. “We move west through Dungeon Valley first.”

Tetsuo raised a brow. “Back there, huh?”

“Only the outer path,” Yoshinori clarified. “It’s the fastest way to reach the western crossing.”

Ryuji nodded slightly. “Then the bridge.”

Yoshinori’s eyes flicked toward him. “The Aureline Bridge,” he said. “Only major crossing point across that stretch. Reinforced. Guarded. Built to handle trade routes.”

Aiko leaned forward slightly. “Sounds boring.”

“It’s stable,” Yoshinori replied.

“That’s worse.”

Tetsuo chuckled. “You’ll survive five minutes without chaos.”

“Maybe.”

Yoshinori continued. “Once we cross, we enter the Marsh Flats.”

That got a different reaction.

Ryuji exhaled lightly. “…That place sounds like a pain.”

Itsuki tilted her head slightly. “Because of the terrain?”

“Yes,” Yoshinori said. “Natural marshland. Unstable ground, shifting water levels, low visibility in certain areas. Travel used to take weeks.”

“But there’s a highway now,” Shunjiro said.

“Correct,” Yoshinori replied. “Constructed twenty years ago. Elevated path, reinforced stone. It cuts through the marsh and allows direct passage.”

Tetsuo leaned back. “So we just stay on the road and we’re good?”

Yoshinori paused. “…Mostly.”

Aiko grinned. “There it is.”

“What?” Tetsuo asked.

“The part where it’s not actually safe,” she said.

Yoshinori didn’t deny it. “The highway reduces environmental risk,” he said. “It does not eliminate external threats.”

Ryuji’s expression sharpened slightly. “Bandits.”

“Yes.”

Tetsuo’s tone shifted just a bit. “Slave hunters too, right?”

“Yes.”

The air grew a little heavier.

Yoshinori’s gaze moved between them all. “Long-distance routes attract them,” he said. “Especially ones that feel ‘safe.’ Complacency creates opportunity.”

Aiko rolled her shoulders slightly. “So we don’t get complacent.”

“Exactly.”

Shunjiro’s expression darkened just a fraction. “…And Renjiro.”

That name settled differently.

Silence followed it.

Yoshinori didn’t look away. “Yes,” he said. “He is still unaccounted for.”

Tetsuo’s jaw tightened slightly. “You think we’ll run into him?”

“No,” Yoshinori answered. “But that doesn’t mean we ignore the possibility.”

Ryuji nodded. “We stay aware. Not paranoid.”

Itsuki’s hand rested lightly against her lap, her voice quiet but steady. “If something happens… we handle it together.”

That grounded it.

Shunjiro exhaled slowly, his gaze shifting forward again, out past the road, past the horizon.

“…We’ll be ready,” he said.

Aiko leaned back, crossing her arms behind her head. “Honestly,” she added, a grin returning, “this already sounds more interesting than normal quests.”

Tetsuo snorted. “You just want something to fight.”

“Obviously.”

Ryuji smirked faintly. “At least she’s honest.”

Yoshinori let out a quiet breath, but there was no frustration behind it. Just acceptance.

The carriage continued forward.

Radiance now far behind them.

The road stretching long ahead.

By the time they reached Dungeon Valley, the world had fallen into a quiet that only came with the deepest part of the night.

The road had thinned, the sounds of distant travel replaced by something far more subdued. The towering shapes of the valley rose around them in dark silhouettes, jagged cliffs cutting into the sky like broken teeth. What had once been a place of tension and near-death for them now passed quietly at their side, distant and still, as if the land itself had chosen to sleep.

Inside the carriage, that stillness had settled over everyone.

Tetsuo was out completely, slumped in his seat without a care in the world. Ryuji leaned against the side, breathing steady, his posture relaxed but not careless. Aiko had shifted at some point, half-curled into her space, one arm loosely draped as if she had fallen asleep mid-thought. Yoshinori rested with his arms crossed, not fully collapsed but still, conserving energy even in sleep. And Itsuki…

Itsuki slept softly. Her breathing was light, peaceful, the kind of rest that came after finally feeling safe again. The faint glow of moonlight slipping through the carriage window caught against her features, giving her an almost fragile stillness that hadn’t been there weeks ago.

Everyone slept.

Except one.

Shunjiro sat near the front, eyes open, staring out into the darkness ahead. The rhythmic motion of the carriage should have lulled him into sleep. The steady sound of the wheels, the soft pull of the horses, the calm of the night, it was all there.

But his mind wouldn’t stop.

It circled.

The ledger.

The name.

Takeshi.

Four days.

The Coastal Kingdom.

Every thought layered over the last, looping, tightening, refusing to settle no matter how still the world around him became.

He exhaled quietly, running a hand through his hair before pushing himself up.

Careful and quiet.

He moved without waking anyone, stepping toward the back before climbing lightly onto the frame and pulling himself up onto the roof of the carriage.

The night air hit him immediately.

Up there, the world felt wider. The valley stretched endlessly around him, the road cutting through it like a thin scar of movement against an otherwise untouched landscape. Above him, the clouds had cleared just enough to reveal the sky, scattered stars breaking through the darkness in quiet, distant light.

Shunjiro lowered himself onto his back, the wood beneath him solid and steady as the carriage continued forward.

For a moment it was peaceful.

The kind of peace that didn’t need anything from him.

The kind that simply existed.

The wind brushed lightly against him as they moved, the rhythm of the carriage carrying through the frame beneath his body. He stared upward, eyes tracing the stars without really seeing them.

But even here-

Even now-

His thoughts didn’t stop.

They pressed in anyway.

Takeshi’s name surfaced again, clearer this time, sharper. Not just a name on a page, but something heavier. Something personal. Something unfinished.

His jaw tightened slightly.

“…Four days,” he murmured under his breath.

It wasn’t just the time.

It was the distance between them.

The years.

The silence.

Everything that had been left unanswered.

His chest rose slowly as he breathed in the cool night air, trying to steady himself, trying to let the calm of the moment sink in.

But it didn’t fully take.

Because beneath the stillness there was something else.

Restlessness.

Anticipation.

A quiet edge of anxiety that refused to fade.

What if he was too late?

What if he got there and found nothing?

What if this chance, the only real lead he had slipped past him like everything else had before?

Shunjiro closed his eyes for a moment. Just for a second.

But even in the dark, the thoughts remained.

Unmoved and unrelenting.

The carriage continued forward beneath him, carrying all of them deeper into the night, deeper into the unknown path ahead.

And above it all Shunjiro lay beneath the stars.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Hours passed. The night thinned into something softer, the darkness giving way to the faintest hints of early dawn. The sky shifted slowly, deep black fading into muted shades of blue, the horizon barely beginning to glow.

Inside the carriage, the stillness began to break.

Yoshinori was the first to wake.

His eyes opened without hesitation, awareness settling in immediately. He didn’t move right away. He listened first, the rhythm of the wheels, the steady pace of the horses, the subtle shifts of breathing around him. Everything felt normal.

Until he looked.

His gaze moved across the carriage once.

Then again.

Counting.

Tetsuo.

Ryuji.

Aiko.

Itsuki.

…

A pause.

Shunjiro.

Missing.

Yoshinori sat up slightly, his expression tightening just a fraction. He didn’t panic. Not yet. He scanned the interior again, more carefully this time, checking corners, angles, anything that might have been overlooked.

Nothing.

He stood.

“Shunjiro?” he called quietly at first.

No response.

That was enough.

The shift in his posture was immediate as he moved toward the front of the carriage, stepping outside where the driver sat steady at the reins.

“Did anyone get off during the night?” Yoshinori asked.

The driver didn’t even need to think about it. “No,” he replied. “Didn’t stop once either. Been moving the whole time.”

Yoshinori’s eyes narrowed slightly.

That meant one thing.

He turned back immediately.

By then, the others were already waking.

Itsuki sat up first, her eyes adjusting quickly as she looked around. “…What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice still soft from sleep.

Yoshinori didn’t waste time. “Shunjiro is missing.”

That woke the rest of them instantly.

Ryuji straightened. “What?”

Aiko pushed herself up, alert now. “What do you mean missing?”

Tetsuo blinked a few times, still half asleep but already frowning. “…He’s not in here?”

Itsuki’s eyes moved quickly across the carriage, searching, confirming what Yoshinori had already seen.

He wasn’t there.

Her chest tightened.

“…He wouldn’t just leave,” she said quietly.

“He didn’t,” Yoshinori replied. “The carriage hasn’t stopped.”

That made it worse.

Ryuji stood, stepping toward the open side. “Then where the hell did he go?”

Aiko moved to the opposite side, scanning outside as if he might just be… there.

Nothing.

The road stretched behind them, empty.

Tetsuo rubbed the back of his head, his expression shifting from confusion to something more serious. “…He must’ve fallen out.”

The words landed heavy. Too heavy.

Itsuki’s head snapped toward him. “Don’t say that.”

Her voice wasn’t loud.

But it was sharp.

Tetsuo raised his hands slightly. “I’m just saying-”

“Don’t,” she repeated.

The silence that followed was tighter now.

Yoshinori stepped forward. “Stop the carriage,” he said to the driver.

The reins pulled back, the horses slowing gradually until the wheels came to a full stop along the road.

The moment they halted, all of them moved.

Boots hit the ground.

One by one, they stepped out, scanning the area immediately, eyes moving across the terrain, the road, the edges of the valley.

Nothing.

No sign of him.

No disturbance.

No trail.

Just the quiet stretch of early morning and the lingering tension building between them.

Itsuki stepped a little further from the carriage, her eyes searching harder now, her breathing just slightly uneven. “…Shunjiro…” she called, louder this time.

No answer.

Ryuji turned, scanning the length of the road behind them. “If he fell, we would’ve noticed something,” he said. “A sound. Movement. Something.”

Aiko crossed her arms tightly. “…Unless it happened while we were all out.”

That didn’t help.

Tetsuo exhaled, running a hand through his hair, clearly thinking now instead of joking. “No way he just disappeared,” he muttered.

Then a sound.

Faint.

Barely there.

A low groan.

Everyone froze.

Itsuki’s head lifted instantly. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah,” Ryuji said.

Tetsuo’s eyes narrowed, looking upward slowly. “…That came from above.”

All of them looked up.

The top of the carriage.

Another groan.

Clearer this time.

“…You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Tetsuo muttered.

Without wasting another second, he stepped forward, planting his foot firmly against the ground as his hand lifted slightly.

Spiritual energy pulsed.

The earth responded.

Stone rose from the ground in a controlled formation, shaping itself into a rough staircase that extended upward along the side of the carriage, locking into place with solid weight.

Tetsuo didn’t hesitate.

He climbed.

Step by step, his boots hitting the stone with quiet thuds as he made his way to the top.

The others watched from below, tension still lingering, not yet fully released.

Tetsuo reached the top.

Paused.

Then leaned slightly over the edge.

“…You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he repeated, louder this time.

“What is it?!” Aiko called up.

Tetsuo looked down at them, completely unimpressed. “…He’s up here.”

“Asleep.”

Silence.

Then “What?!” Aiko snapped.

Itsuki blinked, relief hitting her all at once so fast it almost left her unsteady. “…He’s… what?”

Tetsuo stepped back slightly, glancing down at the source of the problem.

Shunjiro lay sprawled across the top of the carriage, one arm resting over his face, breathing slow, completely undisturbed by everything that had just happened beneath him.

“…Out cold,” Tetsuo added.

Ryuji let out a breath, running a hand over his face. “Unbelievable.”

Aiko threw her hands up. “We thought he died!”

Tetsuo crouched slightly, nudging Shunjiro lightly with his foot. “Hey,” he said. “Wake up.”

Shunjiro groaned again, shifting slightly but not fully waking.

Below, Itsuki let out a quiet breath, her shoulders finally relaxing, tension draining from her all at once as relief settled in.

Yoshinori closed his eyes briefly, exhaling once before looking back up. “…Of course,” he muttered.

Tetsuo nudged him again, this time a little less gently. “Hey,” he said, voice flat. “Wake up before I throw you off for real.”

Shunjiro groaned, his arm shifting slightly as the morning light pressed against his face. His eyes cracked open slowly, unfocused at first, blinking against the brightness. For a second, he didn’t move. Didn’t react. Just stared up at the sky like he had no idea where he was.

“…Huh…?” he mumbled.

Tetsuo stared down at him. “You good?”

Shunjiro blinked again, finally turning his head. “…Why are you above me?”

“That’s your first question?” Tetsuo replied.

Shunjiro pushed himself up slowly, wincing slightly as the stiffness in his body caught up with him. He sat there for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck, looking around like he was piecing reality back together one second at a time.

Then he noticed everyone else below all staring at him.

Itsuki. Yoshinori. Aiko. Ryuji.

Every single one of them.

“…What?” he asked, completely confused. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

No one answered immediately.

Aiko broke first.

“Because you’re on the roof,” she said, arms crossed. “Of a moving carriage.”

Ryuji added, “In the middle of nowhere.”

Yoshinori’s voice followed, calm but edged. “After disappearing without a word.”

Itsuki didn’t say anything right away, but her eyes stayed on him, the relief still lingering beneath the surface of her expression.

Shunjiro looked between all of them, then down at himself, then around again.

Realization hit.

“…Oh.”

Yoshinori let out a slow breath. “Yeah. ‘Oh.’”

Shunjiro scratched his head, a sheepish grin starting to form. “I uh… couldn’t sleep,” he admitted. “Came up here to look at the stars…”

He glanced upward again for a second, like he was remembering it.

“…Then I guess I just knocked out.”

Silence.

Then Ryuji turned away slightly, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

Aiko pinched the bridge of her nose. “We thought you died.”

“Or fell off,” Tetsuo added.

Itsuki finally spoke, her voice quieter than the rest but carrying more weight. “…You should have told someone.”

Shunjiro looked at her.

The lightness in his expression faded just slightly.

“…Yeah,” he said, softer this time. “My bad.”

Yoshinori exhaled slowly, tension fully leaving him now. “Next time,” he said, “try not to create unnecessary problems before sunrise.”

Shunjiro smirked faintly. “No promises.”

Aiko rolled her eyes. “I’m throwing you off next time.”

“Noted.”

Tetsuo stood up, stepping back toward the edge. “Alright, get down before you fall off for real this time.”

Shunjiro pushed himself up, stretching once, the stiffness in his limbs easing as he moved. He stepped carefully toward the edge, glancing down at the stone staircase still formed along the side.

“…You made stairs?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Tetsuo replied. “Try not to miss them.”

Shunjiro snorted lightly and began climbing down, step by step, returning to the ground where the rest of them waited.

The moment his feet touched down, the group naturally settled again. The tension that had flared earlier had burned out just as quickly, replaced now with something more familiar.

Aiko shook her head as she turned back toward the carriage. “Next time I’m swapping you into the ground.”

Ryuji added, “Please do.”

Shunjiro laughed lightly, falling into step with them. “You all worry too much.”

Itsuki walked beside him now, quiet again, but her earlier concern hadn’t completely disappeared. She glanced at him briefly, just to make sure.

He noticed.

“…I’m good,” he said, a little more genuine this time.

She nodded once.

Yoshinori climbed back into the carriage first, settling into his spot as if nothing had happened. “We’ve already lost time,” he said. “Let’s move.”

Tetsuo dropped his hand slightly, and the stone staircase crumbled back into the earth, breaking apart and sinking down as if it had never been there.

One by one, they climbed back in.

The driver glanced back briefly. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Shunjiro answered. “Just… needed some fresh air.”

The driver nodded, not questioning it further as he adjusted the reins.

The horses shifted.

Then pulled forward.

The carriage rolled back into motion, wheels turning steadily as they continued along the road, leaving the brief chaos of the morning behind them.

Inside, the energy settled quickly.

Aiko leaned back into her seat again, already relaxing. Ryuji crossed his arms, eyes half-lidded but awake now. Tetsuo stretched once before dropping heavily into place. Yoshinori returned to stillness, composed as ever.

And Shunjiro sat down.

This time inside.

The journey continued.

By the time the sun had fully risen and settled into the sky, the road ahead began to change. The uneven dirt path they had followed gradually gave way to reinforced stone, the transition subtle at first but unmistakable. The land itself felt more structured here, less wild. Carved markers appeared along the roadside at regular intervals, and the faint silhouettes of watchtowers rose in the distance like silent sentinels. The closer they traveled, the more it became clear that they were approaching something significant.

Then, as the road curved slightly and the terrain opened, the Aureline Bridge came into view.

It stretched across the horizon like a monument carved into the world itself, a massive span of stone and steel bridging a deep gorge that seemed to swallow light the further down it went. Mist drifted below, obscuring whatever lay at the bottom, and the faint sound of rushing water echoed upward in a distant, hollow murmur. The bridge wasn’t simply a crossing, it was a controlled gateway between regions, a place where movement was monitored, where the world narrowed into a single, unavoidable path.

And today, it was locked down.

Yoshinori’s eyes narrowed the moment he saw the guard formations. There were too many. Lines of armored soldiers stood at the entrance, positioned with deliberate spacing, weapons visible and ready. Watchtowers on both sides held archers already stationed, scanning the road with sharp, practiced movements. Even further along the bridge, additional groups of guards had formed checkpoints, stopping every traveler before allowing them through.

“This isn’t normal,” Yoshinori said quietly, his gaze moving not just across the guards, but through them, studying the structure of their placement. “They’re not just monitoring traffic… they’re controlling it.”

Ryuji leaned slightly to get a better look, his expression tightening. “That’s a lot of steel for a bridge.”

Aiko tilted her head, her eyes flicking between the towers and the formations below. “Feels like they’re expecting something.”

“They are,” Yoshinori replied, though his voice remained even. “Or something already happened.”

Itsuki sat quietly, her hands resting in her lap, but her attention was fixed ahead. There was a weight in the air that hadn’t been there earlier in the journey, something subtle but undeniable. Even the travelers ahead of them seemed quieter, their movements more restrained as they waited in line.

The carriage slowed as they approached the queue, falling in behind a pair of merchant wagons already being inspected. Time passed slowly as they inched forward. No one was waved through casually. Every group was stopped, questioned, and searched thoroughly. Some were held longer than others. A few were even pulled aside entirely, their belongings inspected again under closer scrutiny.

Shunjiro leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees as he watched the process unfold. “Guess we’re not just passing through,” he said.

“No,” Yoshinori replied. “We’re being evaluated.”

Aiko smirked faintly, though there was less amusement in it than usual. “Fun.”

Ryuji glanced at her. “Try not to get us detained.”

She didn’t respond, but the smirk lingered.

Eventually, their turn came. The carriage rolled to a stop, and four guards approached from different angles, their armor shifting with quiet weight as they moved. These weren’t inexperienced soldiers. Their posture alone made that clear. Their attention was sharp, controlled, and focused entirely on the group.

One stepped forward, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his weapon. “State your destination.”

His tone was steady, neither hostile nor welcoming.

Shunjiro met his gaze without hesitation. “Coastal Kingdom.”

The guard’s eyes lingered on him for a moment before moving across the rest of the carriage, assessing each of them in turn. “How many in your party?”

“Six.”

“Affiliation?”

“Illumina. C-rank. Kingdom of Radiance.”

A pause followed, just long enough to feel intentional. Then the guard nodded once. “Step out of the carriage.”

No one argued. One by one, they stepped down onto the stone, boots meeting the ground with quiet, controlled movements. The guards shifted subtly around them, not aggressive, but positioned in a way that made it clear they were being contained.

Another guard had already begun inspecting the carriage itself, moving methodically through their belongings.

“Purpose of travel?” the lead guard continued.

“Relocation,” Shunjiro answered. “We’re heading to the Coastal Kingdom for new work.”

“Duration of stay?”

“Undetermined.”

“Names.”

They gave them, one by one. Each name was repeated back, committed to memory, weighed against whatever records the guards carried in their minds or documents.

The questioning didn’t stop there. It continued longer than expected, branching into details that felt excessive. Where they had come from. Recent missions. Guild verification. Minor inconsistencies were probed, even when there were none to find.

Aiko shifted her weight slightly after a while, her patience thinning. “You planning on asking us what we ate this morning too?” she said.

Ryuji sighed quietly. “Aiko.”

The guard’s gaze shifted to her. For a moment, the air stilled.

Then, without a change in expression, he said, “What did you eat this morning?”

Aiko blinked once before a small grin returned. “Breakfast.”

Behind her, Tetsuo let out a quiet snort, quickly stifled.

The guard didn’t react, but the lack of reaction said enough.

Yoshinori stepped forward slightly, smoothing the tension before it could settle too deeply. “Is there a reason for the heightened inspection?” he asked, his tone calm and measured.

The guard studied him for a moment, as if deciding how much to say. Then he exhaled quietly. “You’re coming from the east road,” he said. “You haven’t heard.”

Yoshinori shook his head once. “No.”

The guard’s voice lowered slightly as he spoke again. “Last night, a city was wiped out.”

The words landed heavier than anything else that had been said so far. The shift was immediate, the atmosphere tightening around them.

Itsuki’s fingers curled slightly at her sides. “…Wiped out?” she asked softly.

The guard nodded once. “Entire population.”

Shunjiro’s expression hardened. “How?”

The guard hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Reports are inconsistent. But there’s one detail every account agrees on.” His eyes flicked between them briefly. “It was one person.”

Silence followed.

Ryuji was the first to respond, disbelief clear in his voice. “That’s not possible.”

“We found what was left,” the guard said. “Structures destroyed. Evidence of struggle. But as for the people…” He paused, his jaw tightening slightly. “…there wasn’t much left to identify.”

That was worse.

Itsuki’s gaze lowered slightly, her breathing shallower for just a moment. The image formed whether she wanted it to or not.

Tetsuo frowned, the weight of it settling in. “One person doesn’t do that.”

“That’s what the reports say,” the guard replied. “A cloaked individual. No confirmed identity.”

Aiko crossed her arms again, though the usual edge of humor was gone. “And you think that might be us?”

“We don’t know what to think,” the guard answered. “Which is why we’re not taking chances.”

Another guard approached from the side, finishing his inspection. “Carriage is clear,” he reported.

The lead guard nodded slightly, though his attention remained on them for a moment longer. Then, finally, he stepped back.

“You’re cleared,” he said.

The formation around them loosened just enough to open a path forward.

“Proceed.”

Relief didn’t come the way it should have. There was no sense of ease as they climbed back into the carriage, no lightness to replace the tension. Instead, something heavier lingered, settling into each of them in its own way.

The driver adjusted the reins, and the horses pulled forward, guiding them onto the bridge.

The wind picked up slightly as they crossed, carrying the faint scent of water from far below. The massive structure stretched ahead, each step forward feeling slower than the last.

Inside the carriage, no one spoke at first.

“…A whole city,” Ryuji said eventually, his voice quieter than usual.

Tetsuo shook his head slowly. “One person…”

Aiko stared out the side, her expression unreadable. “Guess the world’s bigger than we thought.”

Itsuki remained quiet, her thoughts distant. “…No bodies…” she murmured, barely audible.

Yoshinori sat still, his eyes forward, already processing, already adjusting. “This changes things,” he said.

Shunjiro leaned back slightly, staring ahead at the far end of the bridge, where the road continued into lands they had yet to reach.

“…Yeah,” he said.

Because it did.

As the carriage rolled steadily across the Aureline Bridge, the world seemed to quiet around them in a way that had nothing to do with peace. The wind moved in long, steady currents through the open space, brushing past them as the gorge stretched endlessly below, but inside the carriage, that motion only seemed to deepen the stillness. No one spoke at first. Each of them sat with their own thoughts, the weight of the guards’ words lingering heavier than the air itself.

A city. Gone.

Erased by one person.

Shunjiro stared ahead, but he wasn’t really seeing the road anymore. His thoughts had drifted somewhere else entirely, circling something that had been sitting quietly in the back of his mind since the archive.

Since that name.

He exhaled slowly, then finally broke the silence.

“…Do you guys think this is the mission Takeshi’s guild was on?”

The question settled into the carriage immediately, cutting through the quiet.

Yoshinori didn’t answer right away. His eyes remained forward, his posture unchanged, but there was a subtle shift in his focus, the kind that meant he was already working through the details.

“…Unlikely,” he said after a moment.

Shunjiro’s gaze flicked toward him. “Why?”

Yoshinori folded his arms slightly, his voice calm, precise. “Timeline,” he said. “The ledger we saw placed Takeshi’s mission six days ago. The incident the guards described happened two nights ago. That’s a four-day gap.”

Shunjiro frowned slightly. “So?”

“So if Takeshi’s guild was involved,” Yoshinori continued, “we would have heard something by now. Reports. Movements. Follow-up activity. Something of that scale wouldn’t go silent for four days and then suddenly resurface as a single-person incident.”

Ryuji leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Unless whatever they were dealing with… didn’t end.”

That hung there for a second.

Aiko tilted her head, her gaze shifting lazily toward the window, though there was a sharper edge behind her eyes now. “Or something new showed up after they left.”

Itsuki sat quietly, her hands resting together, her expression softer but more distant. “…Or something they couldn’t stop,” she said, almost to herself.

Shunjiro’s jaw tightened slightly at that. “…There’s still a chance,” he said. “Something like this… if it’s connected to what they were doing… it wouldn’t just disappear. And if it didn’t-” He paused briefly, then continued, more firmly. “Then they could still be involved.”

Yoshinori finally turned his head slightly, looking at him directly now. “Possibly,” he admitted. “But speculation won’t give us answers.”

Shunjiro held his gaze for a second, then looked forward again. “…If it’s this big,” he said, quieter now, but more focused, “there’s a chance they’ll be called to investigate it.”

That thought shifted something.

Not just for him.

For all of them.

Because if that were true then this wasn’t just some distant event.

It was something that could pull them directly into it.

Yoshinori’s expression didn’t change, but his response came quickly. “And if that happens, we deal with it then,” he said. “But right now, we don’t have enough information to justify diverting from our current objective.”

“The Coastal Kingdom,” Tetsuo muttered.

“Exactly,” Yoshinori replied. “We already committed to that route. We follow through.”

Aiko leaned back slightly, arms resting behind her head. “You’re no fun,” she said.

“I’m not trying to be.”

Ryuji shifted slightly, his gaze moving toward the road ahead, then briefly toward the far end of the bridge. “…We’re passing through it anyway,” he said.

Everyone looked at him. 

“The city,” he continued. “Or what’s left of it. If it’s along this route, we’ll see it.”

Shunjiro’s eyes sharpened slightly. “You think we should check it out?”

“I think,” Ryuji said, measured, “we don’t ignore something like that if it’s right in front of us. We don’t need to go looking for trouble, but if we’re already passing through…” He shrugged slightly. “…we pay attention.”

Yoshinori considered that.

Then nodded once.

“That’s reasonable.”

Itsuki looked up slightly, her voice soft but steady. “If we do pass it… we should be careful.”

Tetsuo let out a small breath. “Careful’s kind of our thing now.”

Aiko smirked faintly. “Speak for yourself.”

But even she didn’t sound entirely careless.

Shunjiro leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose as he stared ahead once more. The far end of the bridge was getting closer now, the road beyond stretching out into unfamiliar land.

“…So we go to the Coastal Kingdom,” he said.

Yoshinori nodded. “That’s still the best move.”

“And if we find something on the way…”

Ryuji’s voice finished it.

“…Then we deal with it.”

Itsuki’s gaze drifted toward the window as the carriage continued across the bridge, and for the first time since they had stepped onto it, something pulled her attention away from the weight of their conversation. The land had fallen away beneath them, replaced by something vast and endless.

The ocean stretched out on both sides.

It was deeper than blue, shifting between shades as the light touched it, reflecting the sky in fractured pieces that moved with the rhythm of the waves below. Sunlight scattered across the surface like broken glass, shimmering with every rise and fall, creating a quiet, mesmerizing glow that reached all the way to the horizon. The wind carried a different scent here, cleaner, sharper, touched with salt and it slipped through the carriage in gentle currents that softened everything it touched.

For a moment, the world didn’t feel heavy.

It felt open.

Itsuki watched it in silence, her expression easing in a way that hadn’t happened since they reached the bridge. The tension that had settled in her chest loosened just slightly as her eyes followed the distant line where the ocean met the sky, where everything blurred into something calm and unreachable.

“…It’s beautiful,” she said softly.

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried.

One by one, the others shifted.

Aiko leaned slightly toward the window, her usual smirk fading into something quieter as she took in the view. Ryuji glanced out as well, his posture relaxing just a fraction. Even Tetsuo turned his head, letting out a low breath as the sight settled in.

Shunjiro followed last.

For a second, he just looked.

Then exhaled.

“…Yeah,” he said.

Yoshinori didn’t move immediately, but his eyes eventually shifted as well, taking in the scene not as something to analyze, but simply to observe. Even he couldn’t deny it.

The ocean didn’t demand anything from them.

It didn’t carry questions.

It didn’t carry danger.

Not in this moment.

It just… existed.

Itsuki kept her gaze forward, her voice calm as she spoke again, though there was something steadier behind it now.

“We’ll deal with it when we get there.”

No one needed to ask what she meant.

The city.

The unknown.

Everything waiting ahead of them.

Her hands rested lightly in her lap, fingers relaxed now instead of tense. “Right now…” she continued, her eyes still on the horizon, “…we’re still here.”

A small pause followed, carried by the sound of the wind and the distant crash of waves far below.

“…So just enjoy it,” she said quietly.

There was no force behind her words.

No command.

Just a reminder.

And it worked.

The carriage rolled forward, steady and uninterrupted, as the bridge carried them over the endless stretch of water. For a brief moment, the weight they carried didn’t disappear, but it loosened, giving them space to breathe.

To exist outside of it.

Shunjiro leaned back slightly, letting his head rest against the side as he looked out at the ocean again, his thoughts quieter now. Ryuji’s shoulders lowered, the tension easing. Aiko let out a small breath through her nose, watching the light ripple across the waves. Tetsuo stretched slightly, settling into the calm without overthinking it.

Even Yoshinori allowed the silence to remain untouched.

And Itsuki kept looking forward, her expression soft, holding onto the moment just a little longer before the road ahead pulled them back into everything waiting for them on the other side.