#renyang

Renjun woke to the soft, golden light filtering through the high arched windows of the Aeon Tower. The morning sun, gentle in the Kingdom of Arrendyll's perpetual spring, cast a warm glow over the entire library. He rubbed his eyes, feeling the familiar stir of excitement that came with another day surrounded by the world of books. At 21, Renjun had spent most of his life within these towering stone walls, but the enchantment of the Aeon Tower never faded for him.

He dressed quickly in the simple robes of a librarian—a practical blend of soft gray and earthy green, colors that blended seamlessly with the lush surroundings. The kingdom's serene, spring-like beauty seeped into the design of the tower itself: every wall was adorned with creeping vines and flowers that bloomed all year long, and the floors were made of polished stone, worn down by centuries of footfalls. The air was always fresh, carrying the fragrance of blooming roses, jasmine, and lavender, thanks to the constant infusion of life from the kingdom’s powerful affinity with plants.

As Renjun made his way to the library’s main floor, the space unfolded in front of him like a dream. The Aeon Tower was unlike any other library in Erithrea—its tall, spiraling spires rose above him, catching the light and reflecting the colors of the endless spring sky outside. Each floor was stacked high with towering shelves, each brimming with manuscripts, scrolls, and books—old and new, chronicling the history of Erithea and beyond. The architecture was elegant but pragmatic, built to endure the ages. Golden chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, their crystals sparkling in the sunlight, casting a soft glow on the dusty air, adding a serene warmth to the atmosphere.

Renjun made his way to the main hall, which stretched into an open atrium, where the sound of water cascading from a marble fountain echoed through the space. Surrounding the fountain were lush indoor gardens—small trees, ivy, and flowering plants that seemed to pulse with life, thriving in the perpetual spring climate of Arrendyll. The smell of flowers always lingered in the air, and the gentle hum of nature made the library feel alive.

His first stop was the large reading room. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, filling the room with a soft, golden hue. The room was filled with tables and chairs, some occupied by scholars from all corners of Erithea, others by travelers seeking knowledge. The high shelves were stacked with books of every imaginable kind—texts on magic, history, poetry, and even more obscure subjects. A massive, intricate map of the kingdoms of Erithea covered one wall, with small pins marking notable locations. Renjun smiled quietly to himself as he made his way past the reading tables, greeting familiar faces. Giselle, his close friend and fellow librarian, was already stationed at the front desk, flipping through a dusty tome. "Good morning," Renjun greeted, his voice warm.

Giselle, as always, returned the smile. "Morning, Renjun. Looks like another busy day ahead."

Renjun nodded, his mind already organizing the tasks before him. The Aeon Tower was a place of constant activity. While it was a sanctuary of knowledge, it was also a center for researchers, students, and scholars from across Erithea. His responsibilities ranged from assisting visitors in finding books to maintaining the catalog and occasionally sorting through new acquisitions. Today, he had a large batch of manuscripts to organize—ancient texts sent from the Kingdom of Carran that would require extra care due to their age.

But first, Renjun made a quick round of the library, greeting the other librarians and checking in with the visitors. The smell of parchment and ink was always comforting to him, reminding him of how vast and unexplored the world was—an endless expanse of knowledge to be discovered. Occasionally, Renjun would pause to glance at the grand windows, where outside, the endless spring landscape stretched as far as the eye could see—lush forests, sparkling rivers, and fields of vibrant flowers.

As midday approached, Renjun found himself in the garden courtyard. It was a quiet space, nestled between the great stone walls of the library. Here, among the green ivy-covered pillars and the chirping of birds, Renjun often took his lunch break. He sat beneath the shade of a willow tree, eating a small meal from the nearby market, his mind drifting as he watched the butterflies flutter by. His thoughts often wandered to the one thing he wanted more than anything else: to leave this library behind, to see the world, to capture the beauty of Erithea in paintings.

He would return to the workday afterward, consulting with scholars, directing them to rare books, or assisting with cataloging the endless flow of texts that arrived daily. Renjun took pride in his work, but a part of him always longed for something more. The library’s tranquility was soothing, but it could also feel stifling at times. He longed to see the kingdoms—Arrendyll was beautiful, but he had read about the fiery landscapes of Carran, the snowy peaks of Frostford, the vibrant seas of Emeria, and the ancient mysteries of Darkwell.

As the day wound down, Renjun made his final rounds of the library, ensuring everything was in order. The sun had set, and the glow of lanterns filled the towering shelves with a soft, golden light. The library became quieter as visitors left for the day, the halls echoing with silence. Renjun locked the doors to the reading rooms and gathered his things, preparing to head back to his small quarters inside the tower.

That night, as he sat at his desk, looking over a painting he had started some time ago, he felt the familiar tug of desire—a longing to be more than just a librarian. He wanted to travel, to see the world, and to turn those dreams into something real, something he could share with others. But, for now, that dream was still far away, and the quiet solace of the Aeon Tower was the only home he had ever known.

Renjun sat at his desk, a brush in hand, staring at the blank canvas in front of him. The air in his small quarters was thick with the smell of ink and paint. His quarters were modest— small, with the bare essentials for living and working. But his true world existed in the paintings he created, the way the brushstrokes could bring his imagination to life.

Today, his mind wandered to the kingdoms of Erithea—kingdoms he had only read about, only dreamed of visiting. He had often fantasized about what each kingdom might look like, the colors, the atmosphere, the feeling of the place. He had never set foot outside of Arrendyll, never ventured beyond the towering gates of the Aeon Tower, but his mind had traveled to those distant lands countless times.

He dipped his brush into the deep blue paint, the color reminding him of the endless skies that stretched above Arrendyll. He was about to begin with Carran, the land of eternal autumn. He imagined the kingdom as a vast, sprawling landscape of golden and amber leaves, falling gently from tall trees that stretched their gnarled branches toward the heavens. The ground was soft and rich with the scent of wood and earth. The air was cool, the crisp scent of autumn mixing with the smoke of the blacksmith’s forges, where the people of Carran honed their craft.

Renjun imagined the people there—tall, with rich chestnut and auburn hair, their faces weathered but strong from the harsh seasons they had endured. The kingdom’s great forges burned hot, and the clang of hammer on metal was ever-present. He painted the distant mountains, their peaks hidden beneath a shroud of mist, as if the land itself was shrouded in mystery. But in the foreground, he painted a warm, welcoming scene: children playing among the amber trees, and the soft glow of a distant forge against the cool light of the setting sun. It was a place of strength and beauty, a place where the fall colors filled the heart with nostalgia.

Next, Renjun’s thoughts drifted to the Kingdom of Emeria, the land of eternal summer. His brush stroked with warmer colors—vibrant yellows, creams, and the pinks. He imagined the kingdom as a place bathed in sunlight, with the ever-present hum of the waves crashing against the shore. He painted the bustling port market, where merchants and fishermen alike plied their trade beneath the sun-drenched sky. The golden sands stretched out before him, sparkling under the sun’s relentless gaze.

Emeria, he thought, must be a land of vitality. He painted the sea with a deep, brilliant blue, its waves gleaming like sapphire under the sunlight. The people were bronzed from the sun, their skin glistening as they worked the markets, tended to their ships, and fished. He imagined the rooftops of their houses, simple and graceful, built to withstand the salt and wind, to the castle described to be made of pearls and corals. The air was filled with the scent of saltwater, of fish and spices, and the sound of laughter as the people gathered by the docks, telling stories of their seafaring adventures. Renjun painted a warm, welcoming scene with families gathered around tables of food, the golden glow of lanterns hanging in the evening light. It was a kingdom that buzzed with life, its people never in a hurry, always embracing the eternal warmth of their land.

Frostford came next. Renjun paused as he thought about the stark contrast between Emeria and the land of eternal winter. The painting before him transformed into a landscape of sharp, white ice, gleaming under the pale light of the sun. The kingdom of Frostford, he imagined, was a place of harsh beauty, a land where the snow never ceased to fall, where the very air seemed to shimmer with cold. He painted towering cliffs of white, jagged and unforgiving,

their surfaces scarred by centuries of wind and snow. The people, he imagined, wore thick furs, their pale skin almost glowing against the backdrop of snow and ice.

He painted the great castles, their walls heavy with the weight of time, built from the very ice and stone that surrounded them. In the distance, he painted the great spires of Frostford’s capital, where ice and snow melted into rivers that ran through the kingdom. The kingdom was still, cold, yet somehow full of life. He imagined the people born in the coldest of winters, thriving in their own temperatures. The feeling of solitude hung in the air, yet there was an undeniable strength in the stillness of it all.

Next, his brush moved to Darkwell, the land of night, where only shadows reigned. Renjun hesitated, unsure of how to capture a kingdom that seemed more like a whisper than a place. Darkwell, he thought, was not a kingdom of light but of secrets, a land shrouded in darkness and mystery. His canvas became an inky black, and he began to paint the towering spires of the city—tall, jagged structures that loomed over the streets, casting long shadows. The city was a labyrinth, full of hidden alleys and twisting roads, each leading deeper into the mystery of the kingdom.

He painted how he imagined the people—pale-skinned, their eyes hollow, as if they had not seen the sun in centuries. The people moved like shadows themselves, blending into the night. It was a kingdom full of secrets, where even the whispers could kill. Renjun imagined the atmosphere heavy, oppressive with the weight of the unknown. And yet, there was a beauty in that darkness. He painted it not as a place of fear but of quiet power, where the unknown held sway, and those who lived there were its silent rulers.

Renjun came to the Kingdom of Arrendyll, his home, the land of eternal spring. The last brushstrokes were easy, as his surroundings had inspired him from the start. He painted the gardens—the vibrant flowers in every hue, the rivers that ran clear and cool through the fields. The architecture was graceful, elegant, with arches and columns that seemed to flow with the land. He painted the great tower that housed the library, where he spent so much of his time—a place of solace, but also of longing. It was here that he had spent his days, reading, dreaming, imagining.

Renjun sighed softly, a sense of peace filling him. He had painted what he had imagined, what he had longed to experience. His dreams were on this canvas, and as he gazed at it, he felt that maybe, one day, they would be more than just a dream.

Renjun's brush hovered above the canvas as his thoughts turned to the Kingdom of Linesse. He had always been fascinated by the idea of light. In Arrendyll, the soft golden rays of the eternal spring bathed everything in warmth, but Linesse was a kingdom entirely governed by light—pure, radiant, and unyielding. It was a place that felt almost otherworldly, a land where the sun's glow never faltered, and its inhabitants seemed to bask in an eternal dawn.

As Renjun painted, his mind wandered to the royal family of Linesse, known for their ability to control light. He could picture them walking through the gardens at dawn, their long, flowing robes glowing softly as the sun’s first rays kissed the kingdom awake. He imagined the royal palace, perched high on a hill, its towers reflecting the brilliance of the sun. The entire kingdom, he thought, was built to reflect the divine nature of light—pure and healing, but also intensely powerful.

Renjun imagined the seraphs, the winged beings of Linesse, soaring through the skies. He painted them as creatures of radiant light, their wings trailing behind them like rays of the sun. They were protectors, guardians of the kingdom, flying high above the land, their every movement leaving trails of light in their wake. Their grace was unmatched, their power a reflection of the kingdom’s beauty and strength.

Renjun sighed, setting his brush down gently. He had painted the kingdoms as he imagined them, and with each stroke, he felt more connected to the world outside the walls of the Aeon Tower. His dream of seeing the world, of feeling the warmth of these distant lands, seemed just a little bit closer. He allowed himself a small smile, knowing that while he had not yet traveled to these kingdoms, he had brought them to life, in his own way, through his art. And perhaps one day, he would see them with his own eyes.

Renjun's heart skipped a beat as the unmistakable sound of metal clanging echoed through the halls of the Aeon Tower. It came from one of the back chambers, a part of the library that was rarely visited. The only ones allowed there were the high-ranking librarians and researchers, and none of them would be working so late into the night.

He hesitated for a moment, his hand frozen mid-air as he wiped the brush he had been using for his latest painting. His mind raced—was it a thief? He had heard rumors of people attempting to steal rare books from the library, but he never thought it would happen under his watch. His heart pounded in his chest, and a knot formed in his stomach. It was well past midnight, and the library was quiet except for the soft hum of distant winds outside.

Renjun set the brush down gently and moved cautiously toward the sound. His steps were measured, careful not to make any noise. He had worked here for years, but the corridors of the library were labyrinthine, and the back chambers were shrouded in shadows, unfamiliar even to him. As he made his way down the long corridor, he could feel the weight of the silence around him, pressing against his skin, heightening his sense of alertness.

The clanging grew louder, the sound of metal against stone echoing off the ancient walls. He swallowed, his throat dry. He wasn't sure what kind of thief would make so much noise, but one thing was certain—this wasn’t the work of a subtle intruder. This was someone desperate, careless, or maybe even bold enough to think no one would notice.

Renjun reached the door of the back chamber and paused, pressing his ear against the cold wood. There was no more clanging, only the faint sound of breathing. His eyes darted around, searching for any indication of what was happening inside. Was the thief waiting, or had they heard him?

He quickly drew a breath, steeling himself, and gently turned the handle. The door creaked open, and he slipped inside, the dim light from the hallway casting long shadows across the stone floor.

The room was filled with shelves upon shelves of ancient books, scrolls, and artifacts, all stored in the deepest part of the library. The air smelled of old parchment and dust, the scent familiar to Renjun. But now, in the dead of night, it felt oppressive, as if the very air was holding its breath.

He grabbed a staff that leaned against the wall, its polished wood familiar in his hands. It wasn’t meant for combat, but it was sturdy enough to defend himself. With a steadying breath, Renjun crept through the towering aisles of bookshelves, his footsteps muffled by the plush rugs that covered the stone floors. The sound of rustling grew louder as he approached the back, where the maps and historical records were kept.

When he rounded the corner, Renjun froze. A young man was standing at one of the tall wooden tables, rifling through stacks of old maps and manuscripts with a look of determination on his face. He was tall, with shaggy brown hair, and wore clothes that seemed a little too worn for someone who should be in a place like this. Renjun’s eyes narrowed. The man was a stranger, his presence here utterly forbidden.

"Hey!" Renjun called, his voice sharp with authority. "What are you doing here?"

The man froze, his back stiffening. He slowly turned to face Renjun, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Just borrowing some… interesting materials," the man replied smoothly, raising a large book to shield himself as he backed away toward the nearest exit.

Renjun's grip tightened on his staff, fury bubbling in his chest. "You can’t just take these!" he yelled. "These are part of Erithea’s history! I won’t let you—"

Before he could finish, the stranger lunged forward, knocking over a stack of books with a sharp clatter. He had surprisingly quick reflexes, dodging the swing of Renjun’s staff with a nimbleness that took him by surprise. Renjun swiped again, aiming to knock the thief off balance, but the man blocked his blows with the large book, its leather cover creaking under the pressure.

The sound of their struggle echoed through the library, but Renjun was determined not to let this intruder escape. With a quick movement, he twisted the staff and aimed for the man’s legs. The stranger grinned, sidestepping just in time, but stumbled slightly—enough for Renjun to press his advantage.

"I told you, you can’t have these!" Renjun shouted, swinging the staff at the man’s head, but again, the large book came up to block the blow.

The man wasn’t one to be so easily dissuaded. He grunted, his eyes narrowing with annoyance. "You don’t know what you’re protecting," he muttered under his breath, almost to himself. "You don’t understand."

Renjun’s brow furrowed. "What do you mean? What are you after?"

But before the stranger could answer, the air in the room shifted. The sound of footsteps— many footsteps—approached, and Renjun’s heart sank. He had no time to question the man further. The people were coming.

A door at the far end of the library burst open with a heavy thud. A group of rowdy figures, their faces obscured by bandanas and hoods, flooded into the room. The thieves had raided the library.

"We’re looking for something specific," the man said, his voice cool and confident. "A map. We know you have it. The one to the Hellfire Pool."

Renjun’s mind raced as he took a step back, eyeing the growing group of pirates. They didn’t just want any book—they were after something dangerous, something hidden in the library’s deepest vaults. The Hellfire Pool… Renjun had heard whispers of it. A legendary, forbidden location said to be hidden deep within the kingdom of Carran, but no one knew exactly where it was. He knew the library housed many secrets, but he never imagined that one of them could be so coveted.

"I won’t let you take it," Renjun said, his voice filled with determination, despite the odds stacked against him. "You can’t have it."

A man with a wide brim hat, supposedly the leader laughed, his gaze cold and calculating. "You don’t have a choice. You’re in our way. Get him."

With a sudden movement, the thieves charged, and Renjun swung his staff with all the force he could muster. But there four of them. He was only one person, and they were well- prepared for a fight. The large book-wielding man from earlier darted around him, his movements fast and fluid, while the other pirates closed in from all sides.

Renjun held his ground, using the staff to block blows, but the thieves were relentless. His mind raced—he had to stop them, but how? He wasn’t a fighter, just a librarian. His thoughts flashed to the books scattered on the floor, the precious manuscripts, all at risk of being destroyed or stolen.

Suddenly, the leader spoke again, his voice low and dangerous. "We have no time to waste with you. Give us the map, and we’ll leave quietly."

But Renjun didn’t trust them. He knew that if he handed over anything, the pirates would only destroy the library afterward. The library was sacred to him—its knowledge was a lifeline to Erithea’s past, present, and future. He couldn’t let it fall into the wrong hands.

With no other options left, Renjun bolted. His feet carried him faster than he thought possible, heading straight for the back of the library where he knew there was an old hidden passage, one that led down to the lower vaults. If he could get there first, he might be able to lock the pirates out.

The thieves chased after him, but Renjun reached the passage just in time, slipping inside and slamming the heavy stone door behind him. The sound of fists pounding against the door was faint, but it was enough to remind him of the danger that loomed outside.

His heart was racing, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. He didn’t know where the Hellfire Pool map was, but he couldn’t let these thieves have it. The library and its secrets were at risk, and Renjun knew that whatever lay beyond the bookshelves, whatever they were searching for, was something far more dangerous than they could possibly understand.

“Please, open the door!” a voice called out, muffled yet firm. “We’re not here to harm anyone. We just need the map!”

Renjun froze. He pressed his ear closer to the door, his mind racing.

“I know you’re in there!” the voice continued, more urgent now. “We don’t have time for this! Open up!”

Renjun swallowed hard, his knuckles white as he gripped the staff. He could feel the tension in the voice, but he couldn’t afford to trust it. He needed more time to think.

“I’m Yangyang,” the voice finally said, calmer now but still tense. “From the pirate crew of The Crescent Tide. We need the map to the Hellfire Pool to save our home. That’s all we want. Please, just—talk to me.”

The words hung in the air like a challenge. Renjun’s mind was spinning. Pirates? His instincts screamed at him to stay silent, to wait them out, but curiosity—and a nagging sense of something more—kept him rooted.

“How do I know you won’t destroy the place the moment I open this door?” Renjun called out, his voice firmer than he felt.

There was a brief pause. Then, “You don’t. But if you don’t open the door, we’ll break it down. I’d rather not do that. This place—it’s incredible. It’s sacred, I can see that. I just… I just need your help.”

The sincerity in Yangyang’s tone took Renjun by surprise, but he couldn’t ignore the threat.

He knew the library’s history, its weight as a keeper of knowledge, but he also knew he couldn’t let anyone—pirate or not—wreak havoc within its walls.

“What do you want the map for?” Renjun demanded, still behind the door.

“To save our home,” Yangyang replied, and there was a note of raw emotion in his voice

now. “The blood witches… they’re coming. Our island will be the first to fall if we don’t stop them. We need the map to find the Hellfire Pool. Please, just let me explain.”

Renjun hesitated, conflicted. His curiosity burned, but he couldn’t ignore the danger that came with opening the door. Behind him, the towering shelves of books seemed to loom, as if silently urging him to protect their secrets.

“I’ll let you explain,” Renjun finally said, his voice trembling slightly, “but I’m not opening this door.”

Yangyang let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I’m running out of time, and you are too. Do you even know what’s coming for all of us?”

Renjun pressed closer to the door, his thoughts a whirlwind. He knew the stories of the blood witches, the destruction they left in their wake, but to hear someone talk about them with such urgency brought a chill to his core.

“Talk fast,” Renjun said, his voice sharp despite his racing heart. “What makes you think I’ll help you?”

“Because I have no other choice,” Yangyang said, and for the first time, his voice cracked, the weight of his desperation evident. “And neither do you.”

❀⋆.◌ೃ࿔*:·❀

Yangyang was leaning casually against a pillar, arms crossed, his eyes assessing Renjun. He had the look of someone who was always ready for a fight, a life lived on the edge. Renjun’s gaze flickered from Yangyang to the others, his breath coming in shallow, controlled bursts.

Renjun took a step forward, his voice firm but hesitant. “I want to go with you.”

The words echoed in the vast, empty hall. The pirates, who had been rummaging through maps and books for clues, froze. Yangyang raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. The leader of the pirates, Ten, was somewhere in the back, still busy organizing a stack of the books they had taken. Renjun could see the skepticism in the eyes of the others, their faces shadowed by years of hardship on the seas.

Yangyang glanced at him, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "You? A librarian? The one who spends his days flipping pages and organizing scrolls? You think you can handle the pirate life?”

Renjun straightened up, meeting Yangyang’s gaze with determination. "I don’t need to be a pirate. I just need to see the world. I’ve spent my whole life in the tower, surrounded by history, by things I’ll never experience. This—this is my chance. I want to see the seas, to see beyond the walls of the Aeon Tower.”

Yangyang let out a short, amused laugh but didn’t say anything. Renjun could tell that he wasn’t convinced. The other pirates didn’t even look up from their task, continuing to sort through the books. Renjun turned his attention to Ten, who was still organizing the items.

“I can help you,” Renjun added, his voice more urgent now. “I know the maps, I know the history. I can find things for you, guide you through all of this. This library... it has everything you need to fight the Blood Witches. I can be useful.”

Yangyang pushed off from the pillar, walking over to Ten, who had now turned to face them. The air was thick with the uncertainty of the moment. Renjun’s palms were sweaty, his heart racing. This wasn’t just about leaving the tower anymore. It was about something bigger—a chance to fight for something greater than himself.

“Ten,” Yangyang said, his voice low, but carrying an air of command. “This kid wants to come with us.”

Ten’s face remained unreadable, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Renjun. The pirate captain was a man of few words, his presence like a storm waiting to break. He finally spoke, his voice as deep and steady as the sea itself.

“A boy raised in a tower... you really think you can handle the life on the sea?” Ten’s eyes flickered to Renjun’s clean, neat clothes and his pale, unweathered skin. “The seas are dangerous, the storms are relentless. A sheltered life behind the walls of a library won’t

prepare you for what’s out there.”

Renjun swallowed hard, but he didn’t falter. This was his chance, and he wouldn’t let it slip away. “I know it’s dangerous. But that’s exactly why I need to go. I’m tired of hiding behind books. I want to see the world, to understand it, to experience it. I can’t keep living in the

tower, surrounded by history, without ever living it myself.” His voice trembled slightly, but he steadied it with a deep breath. “I’ve never even left Arrendyll. I’ve never seen the ocean, I’ve never been to the other kingdoms... but I want to. I want to see what’s beyond.”

Yangyang watched him closely, the smirk finally fading from his lips. The tension between them seemed to shift slightly, but he still wasn’t sure.

Ten regarded Renjun with a thoughtful, if wary, expression. His eyes shifted back to the other pirates, gauging their reactions. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke again.

“Alright, you can come. But you’ll have to prove you can survive. We’re not babysitting some naive kid from a tower. You’ll pull your weight, or you won’t last a day.”

Renjun’s heart skipped a beat. “I will,” he promised, determination filling his voice. Yangyang glanced back at Ten, who nodded. "Fine. But if you die, it’s not on me." Renjun smiled, a rush of excitement and relief flooding him. "Thank you."

As Ten walked away to finish organizing the books, Yangyang turned back to Renjun with a raised eyebrow. “This is your chance, huh? To get out of that tower for good?”

Renjun nodded, a new fire in his chest. "It is. But it’s more than that. I’m not just running away. I can help you find what you need, and in return... maybe I’ll find what I need too."

Yangyang gave a knowing grin. “Well, don’t expect it to be easy. The seas aren’t kind to people who don’t know their way around.”

Renjun’s grin was small but genuine. “I'll be fine.”

❀⋆.◌ೃ࿔*:·❀

The library was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of pages as Renjun sifted through the ancient books, his fingers tracing the delicate edges of faded pages. The pirates had settled around him, waiting patiently, though their impatience was evident in their shifting stances and the restless tapping of feet. The map they were searching for—one that would lead them to the Hellfire Pool—was critical to their mission. Renjun knew they needed it badly, but he also felt the weight of responsibility, knowing that it could lead them to something far more dangerous than they anticipated.

He had been scanning the shelves for hours, trying to find something relevant in the massive, endless collection of ancient texts. He had always loved the library, had always been captivated by the treasures hidden within its walls. But now, it felt different. Now, he was here for more than just curiosity—he was here for something that could change the course of their lives.

Finally, his eyes landed on a book unlike any he had ever seen before. It was old, ancient even, with a thick leather cover and gold engravings that shimmered faintly in the torchlight.

Renjun carefully pulled it off the shelf, dusting it off before placing it gently on the table before the pirates.

"This might be it," he murmured, as he carefully opened the cover, the smell of aged paper filling the air. His fingers trembled slightly as he turned the pages, scanning the text with precision. The map had to be in here somewhere, hidden among the myths and legends of ancient times.

As his eyes scanned the intricate, detailed illustrations, Renjun’s heart skipped a beat. There it was. A map of the Hellfire Pool, a place only whispered about in legends—hidden deep in the mountains between Carran and Emeria. The path was treacherous, veiled in magic and guarded by dangers no one had dared to face in centuries.

Renjun stood up, eyes wide, as the pirates gathered around him. Yangyang, Dejun, and Yuqi crowded in close, their eyes narrowing as they peered at the map. Ten stood in the back, silent but still exuding the quiet authority that Renjun had come to recognize.

“What does it say?” Yuqi asked, her voice low, almost reverent.

Renjun cleared his throat, leaning over the map. “It’s a rough outline of the Hellfire Pool, but… it’s not near the shores like we thought. It’s further inland. Right on the border between Carran and Emeria, deep in the forest. We won’t be able to sail there. The waters won’t take us near it.”

Dejun cursed under his breath. "That’s just great. We were hoping to avoid too much land travel."

Yangyang’s lips quirked, but there was no humor in his smile. "Land travel. That’s a pain, but we’ve managed worse." His eyes flicked back to the map. "But Carran’s the kingdom of eternal Autumn, right? The terrain’s gonna be tough."

Renjun nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. "It won’t be easy. But I think I have an idea."

He looked up from the map, meeting Ten’s eyes. "We’re already in Arrendyll. We could travel through this kingdom and cross into Carran on foot. We don’t have to sail at all. The kingdom is close to the border, and we can use the land routes to reach the Hellfire Pool. It’s a safer route than trying to take a ship and turn around the continent on the other side."

Ten studied the map, his expression unreadable. The others remained silent, waiting for his verdict. Renjun could feel the weight of their eyes on him, and he held his breath, hoping that his suggestion would be met with approval.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ten nodded once, decisively. “Alright. We’ll go by land. But you’re sure about this? It’s not going to be easy, especially with the Blood Witches potentially coming our way.”

Renjun glanced at the map, his fingers tracing the path he’d drawn. He nodded slowly. "I’m sure. It’s our best bet."

Yangyang stepped forward, crossing his arms. "If we’re going to walk, I’d rather we take a route with as few people as possible. Don’t want to run into any soldiers or wandering merchants. Carran’s a little too close to that cursed southern land."

Renjun understood his concerns. Carran and Emeria were often on edge because of their proximity to the Blood Witches. Any movement from their border would raise suspicion.

“We’ll stick to the hidden paths,” Renjun said. “I know a few that go through the forests and mountains. They’re old, forgotten trails, but they’ll get us there without attracting too much attention. We’ll avoid any major towns or military posts.”

Dejun grunted in agreement, though he still looked a bit reluctant. "A few hidden paths, huh? Sounds like it’ll be a pain."

Yuqi, who had been quiet until now, spoke up. "But it’s the best option we have. We don’t have time to waste."

Renjun nodded, feeling the weight of their agreement settle on his shoulders. "I’ll lead the way. We’ll make it, one step at a time."

Ten gave a curt nod. "Then it’s settled. Pack what you need. We leave at dawn."

As the pirates began to gather their things, Renjun stood there for a moment longer, looking down at the map. He could feel the pull of the adventure ahead, the weight of what was coming pressing against him. This wasn’t just a journey to the Hellfire Pool—it was a journey into the unknown, a journey that would change everything.

"The island lies hidden beneath the cloak of mist and superstition, a place where the sea itself seems to whisper of things best left forgotten. They say the Blood Witches once called it home, their dark magic seeping into the very bones of the earth. No man who has sailed near it has returned unscathed—if they return at all. But if you’re brave—or foolish—enough to seek it, know this: some secrets are buried for a reason. And some treasures are cursed to remain lost."

A Pirate's Tale of the Witch Isle

Renjun moved quickly, his fingers brushing over the familiar spines of books in his room, his mind already on the journey ahead. The grand library of Arrendyll had been his sanctuary, and even now, as he prepared to leave its comforting walls, there was a quiet sadness tugging at his heart. But this journey was one he had to take, and he would not go empty-handed.

He began packing his leather satchel, each item a memory, each one tied to a story. First, he pulled from the shelf a small, worn pouch, made of thick linen. Inside it was a vial of salt, crystal clear and delicate—one of the rarest commodities he had ever seen. He had come across it years ago, when a stranger from the southern shores of Emeria had passed through the library. The man had told Renjun of its uses, its power to ward off dark creatures, and

how it was harvested from the depths of the sea. “A powerful substance,” the man had said, “good for clearing away the poison of the world.”

Renjun had never needed to use it, but he had kept it in his room, tucked away for a day like this, when he might find himself in need of such a thing. Now, he tucked it carefully into his bag, knowing that it could prove to be invaluable.

Next, he picked up a small, folded parchment. It was yellowed with age and creased from where it had been tucked into a book for safekeeping. The handwriting on it was flowing and elegant, but what caught Renjun's eye was the strange, intricate symbol drawn at the bottom.

It was from a visitor who had passed through the library many years ago—a woman whose voice carried a quiet power. She had spoken little of herself, but Renjun had always been fascinated by her story. She had given him the parchment with the symbol, telling him only that it was a token of protection. She had smiled softly, a sad, knowing smile, and left without another word. Renjun wasn’t sure what the symbol meant, but he had kept it, folded safely, and it was now part of his pack.

Beside it, he placed a small glass vial filled with faintly glowing liquid—a silvery-blue hue. The vial had been a gift from a healer who had once stayed in the library for several weeks.

She was an expert in potions and remedies, and when Renjun had asked her about some of the more obscure elixirs she carried, she had given him the vial with a quiet warning. “This will heal the body, though it comes at a price,” she had said. “Use it only when all other options have failed.” Renjun didn’t fully understand her words, but he knew that the vial could prove crucial on this journey, especially if he found himself injured or in need of something that might restore his strength.

He lingered for a moment on the shelf where he kept his most cherished items—pieces of books and memories left behind by those who had passed through the library’s doors. His fingers brushed over the edge of an old map—one of the earliest editions of Arrendyll’s land. The map had been a gift from an old historian who had spent years cataloging the history of the land. Renjun had spent countless hours studying the map, learning the old roads, the rivers that had long since been forgotten, and the areas that were still uncharted. He rolled the map carefully, tucking it away in the bag next to the salt vial and the other items.

Then, he reached for a small, weathered notebook—a journal filled with sketches and notes from a wanderer who had once stayed in the library for a week. She had been a cartographer and had mapped out areas of the world no one had dared to explore. Renjun had been fascinated by the journal, poring over the pages, learning about strange places he’d never heard of before. She had left it behind for him, a gift, she had said, for someone who understood the importance of preserving knowledge. He wasn’t sure why it felt so important now, but he stuffed it into his bag anyway.

The last thing he packed was a simple wooden pendant, carved into the shape of a bird in flight. It had been a parting gift from an elderly traveler from the Kingdom of Emeria. The traveler had not spoken much during his time in the library, but he had left the pendant with Renjun when he left, telling him that it was a charm to ward off the darkness. “When you go on your journey,” he had said, “wear this close to your heart, and it will protect you.” Renjun had never taken it off, and now, he slipped it into the pouch of his satchel, close to his chest.

With a final glance around the room, Renjun closed his bag. It was heavier now, filled with tokens and gifts from people who had crossed his path—people who had left bits of themselves behind in the pages of the library. As he secured the strap across his shoulder, he took a deep breath. There was no turning back now. The journey ahead would be long, dangerous, and filled with uncertainty. But with these items, these small pieces of history and humanity, he would not be going alone.

❀⋆.◌ೃ࿔*:·❀

Renjun sat at the worn wooden desk in the back of the library, the faint scent of ink and parchment filling the air. His quill hovered over a fresh sheet of paper, a moment of hesitation tugging at his mind. He had never imagined leaving the Aeon Tower—had never imagined stepping outside of its towering walls to wander the lands beyond. But now, with his fate tied to the pirates’ cause and the distant promise of adventure, he knew there was no turning back.

He pressed the quill to the paper, his words flowing smoothly despite the knot in his stomach.

Giselle,

I hope this note finds you well. I wanted to let you know that I am safe and will be gone for a while. I am embarking on a journey with some... unusual companions. The world outside is far more vast than I ever imagined, and I intend to see it for myself. Please do not worry. I’ll write when I can. Keep the tower safe, and I’ll return when I can.

—Renjun

He folded the note carefully, sealing it with wax and leaving it on the desk. Giselle would understand. She would know he had to follow this path, even if it took him far away from the only place he had ever known.

By the time Renjun stepped out of the library’s grand doors the following morning, the sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm golden glow over the kingdom of Arrendyll. The air was crisp, the scent of fresh spring blooms mingling with the earthiness of the forest that lay just beyond the city’s borders. It felt strange, almost overwhelming, to be leaving the safety of the tower behind, but the path ahead was clear.

Ten and the others were already waiting for him at the edge of the forest, their bags packed and ready for the journey ahead. Renjun had given his final farewells to the familiar stone walls, but now, it was time to move forward. The pirates were surprisingly efficient, all business despite the early hour.

Yangyang, however, had lingered by Renjun, a casual air about him. As they walked together, their boots crunching against the leaves and underbrush, Renjun couldn’t help but notice the quiet tension in the air. Yangyang was a man of few words, but there was something about the silence between them that felt comfortable, even though they were walking into the unknown together.

“So,” Yangyang started, breaking the silence. His voice was low, almost playful. “Tell me, Renjun. What exactly made you want to leave your fancy tower and come with a bunch of pirates?”

Renjun chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not exactly sure. It just feels like... it’s time for something more. I’ve been surrounded by books my entire life. But there’s so much more out there. I want to see the world, experience it, not just read about it. There’s only so much a library can teach you, after all.”

Yangyang raised an eyebrow, looking amused. “And you think pirates are going to teach you that?” He smirked, his hands shoved into his coat pockets as they continued walking. “You know it’s not all fun and treasure hunting out here. We might be a rowdy bunch, but we’ve got our reasons for doing what we do.”

“I’m sure of that,” Renjun said, his voice thoughtful. “But I can’t help wondering… what about you? What made you become a pirate?”

Yangyang’s smile faded slightly, and his gaze drifted toward the trees ahead, where the forest grew denser. There was a pause before he spoke, as though weighing his words carefully. “I didn’t have much of a choice, honestly. Life on the seas isn’t exactly a dream for everyone.

But when you’re from a place like mine, sometimes the only option is to fight for survival. The seas were better than what I had at home.” He let out a small sigh, his expression hardening. “Now, it’s about protecting what we have left. Our island. The people I care about.”

Renjun nodded quietly, understanding the weight in Yangyang’s words. “That sounds like a burden,” he said softly. “You didn’t get to choose your path, but now you’re living it.”

“Exactly.” Yangyang glanced over at him, a small smile returning to his face. “Tell me more about you. What experience do you want to have?”

Renjun hesitated for a moment, considering the question. He had always felt content in the quiet confines of the Aeon Tower, but something had shifted in him over the years. “I suppose it’s the idea of living only half a life. Books are great, but they’re not enough. I want to learn by doing. I want to see the lands I’ve only read about, hear the stories I’ve only imagined. And… maybe find something for myself in the process. Live a life.”

Yangyang regarded him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. Then, with a soft chuckle, he gave Renjun a playful nudge. “Well, I guess that’s what makes you one of us now. A little crazy, but I think you’ll fit right in.”

Renjun smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him. Maybe Yangyang was right. Maybe the world was a little crazy, but it was also vast, full of things he had yet to understand. And for the first time in his life, Renjun felt the thrill of stepping into that unknown.

As they walked deeper into the forest, the air grew cooler, the rustling of the leaves above them almost a soothing melody. The path was uneven, the soft ground beneath their boots giving way to the occasional stone, but Renjun hardly noticed. His mind was still racing, turning over everything that had happened. His first steps away from the Aeon Tower, the pirates, the blood witches—it was all a whirlwind of uncertainty. Yet, in Yangyang’s company, it somehow felt less daunting.

“So, Yangyang,” Renjun began after a long silence, his voice tentative. “What’s it like, really? Living on the pirate island? What do you do there?”

Yangyang shifted his weight to his other foot and glanced sideways at Renjun, the corners of his mouth curling up. “It’s a lot more mundane than you think. Sure, there’s treasure hunting and sailing, but mostly it’s just… survival. Keeping things running. We have to make sure the ship’s in one piece, the crew stays healthy, and—” He smirked. “We get into the occasional brawl.”

Renjun chuckled, the image of Yangyang with a crew full of pirates fighting and laughing together easing some of the tension in his chest. “I can imagine you’re the one who starts most of those brawls.”

Yangyang let out a laugh, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Well, maybe. But I’m also good at making sure we finish them. There’s something about being a pirate that sharpens your instincts.” He paused, a more serious expression settling on his face as his gaze turned forward. “But it’s not all fun. There’s a reason we do what we do, you know?”

Renjun, who had been focusing on the path before them, glanced over at Yangyang. His tone was softer now, more introspective. “And what reason is that?”

Yangyang’s eyes flicked to Renjun, as if weighing whether to share this with someone he’d only just met. He spoke slowly, as though finding the right words. “We’re protecting what’s ours. Our island, our people. Pirates don’t have a kingdom to swear allegiance to, so we create our own. But that means we’ve got to fight for it. It’s not just about gold and treasure. It’s about survival and finding a place we can call home.”

Renjun nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. He’d always taken his own home for granted. The Aeon Tower was a sanctuary, a place of peace and knowledge. But Yangyang’s words made him realize that not everyone had such a luxury. For many, their “home” was a fragile thing, something that needed constant protection.

“That’s… I guess I never thought about it that way,” Renjun admitted. “I’ve always had the tower, always had a place to learn and grow. But I think I’ve been running away from something, too. Maybe I’ve been hiding in the tower because it’s safe.”

Yangyang glanced over at Renjun, his brow furrowed slightly. “Hiding? What do you mean?”

Renjun let out a soft sigh, his thoughts clearer now than before. “I’ve always dreamed of traveling, of seeing the kingdoms outside the tower. But there’s something about staying in

the safety of the library that feels comfortable, like I’m avoiding the world.” He glanced up at the trees, the morning sunlight filtering through the leaves. “I guess I never knew how much I was missing until now.”

Yangyang studied him for a moment, then gave him a small, understanding smile. “I get that.

It’s hard to step out of your comfort zone. But sometimes, you don’t realize what you’re capable of until you’re forced to face it.”

Renjun looked at him, intrigued by the sudden depth in his words. “And how do you know that?”

Yangyang shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a hint of something in his eyes—something not entirely carefree. “I’ve had my own fair share of moments where I didn’t know what I was doing. Where I was scared of what would happen next. But you adapt. You learn. The world’s big, and it’ll test you. But it’s also beautiful in its own way, if you know where to look.”

Renjun’s lips curved into a faint smile. “You make it sound so simple.”

Yangyang snorted. “It’s not. But what else can you do? Life doesn’t come with instructions, so you have to figure it out as you go. That’s what makes it worth it.” He gave Renjun a quick, knowing glance. “Besides, you’ve got me to show you the ropes. I’ll teach you how to survive out here.”

Renjun laughed, feeling a spark of excitement flicker within him. “I’m sure you will. But maybe you can also teach me how to properly navigate the seas—without falling off the ship.”

Yangyang grinned widely at that. “Now that’s something I’m definitely good at.” He slapped Renjun’s back, a playful glint in his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your back. You’ll be climbing the rigging like a pro in no time.”

The two of them continued walking, the sound of their footsteps mingling with the chorus of birds overhead. Renjun felt an unexpected sense of camaraderie with Yangyang, the pirate who had become his unlikely companion. The journey ahead was uncertain, but at least, for the first time, it didn’t feel so lonely.

As they walked, Renjun couldn’t help but glance over at Yangyang, curiosity bubbling inside him. He had so many questions about their journey, and the more he learned, the more intrigued he became.

“So,” Renjun started, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity. “Since we won’t be using your ship, what happens to it? Does it just stay there? You don’t plan on sailing it anywhere?”

Yangyang gave a small chuckle, looking at Renjun sideways as they walked. “Oh, the ship’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Yuqi went back to the crew. She’s telling them the plan, making sure everything’s in order before we head off on land. She’s the one who keeps everyone in line when we’re not sailing.”

Renjun nodded, imagining Yuqi taking charge of the remaining crew. His mind drifted to the pirates he had met so far. There was Ten, of course, their stoic captain, and Dejun, the quiet but reliable one. But there were others too—crew members Renjun hadn’t yet met but was eager to learn about.

“So, what are the others like?” Renjun asked, trying to keep the conversation light. “What’s the rest of your crew like?”

Yangyang glanced ahead at Ten and Dejun, who were walking just a little bit ahead of them. His lips curled into a grin as he thought about his crewmates. “Well, you already know Ten and Dejun, but let me tell you about the others.”

He scratched the back of his neck, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he began. “First, there’s San—he’s the muscle of the crew, you know? The one you’d want on your side if things get ugly. Big guy, strong, and quick with his fists. He’s not exactly the talkative type, but he doesn’t need to be. Everyone knows when San’s around, things are under control.”

Renjun raised an eyebrow, picturing a massive, intimidating pirate who probably didn't need to say much to command respect. “Sounds like someone you don’t want to mess with.”

Yangyang smirked. “Yeah, definitely. But he’s got a heart of gold once you get past the tough exterior. Not that he lets anyone get close enough to really see that.”

“Sounds like a fascinating guy,” Renjun said, his tone thoughtful.

Yangyang continued, his eyes lighting up as he spoke. “Then there’s Sunwoo—he’s, uh, full of energy. Non-stop, always moving, always thinking of the next big thing. He’s got this wild enthusiasm about everything he does. Sometimes it drives the rest of us crazy, but honestly, he’s the kind of person you need to keep things interesting. He’s the one who keeps the morale up when the rest of us are getting down or tired.”

Renjun laughed, picturing someone like Sunwoo running around the ship, bouncing from one idea to the next. “He sounds like a whirlwind.”

“You don’t even know,” Yangyang said with a chuckle. “But honestly, without him, I think the ship would get pretty dull. He brings the spark to the crew, you know?”

Renjun smiled. He liked the sound of Sunwoo—someone who could keep the crew lively even when things got tough.

“And then there's Julie," Yangyang added, his tone shifting just a little. "She’s got a sharp

tongue and a way of speaking that can cut right through you if you’re not careful. But don’t let that fool you. She’s got a lot of wit and cunning, which is exactly why she's the perfect one to handle tricky situations. She might seem cold at first, but once you get to know her, you realize she’s fiercely loyal to the crew.”

Renjun raised an eyebrow. “Sharp tongue, huh? I bet you’ve had a few run-ins with her.”

Yangyang grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “A few, yeah. She doesn’t take kindly to me and my ‘loose cannon’ ways. But that’s part of the fun. We balance each other out, whether we like it or not.”

Renjun chuckled, picturing the dynamic among the pirates. It was easy to see how they made such an effective team. Even though they came from different backgrounds, their bond seemed unbreakable. Everyone had their role, their quirks, and together, they made it work.

“I guess that makes a good crew,” Renjun said, looking ahead at Ten and Dejun, who were still walking ahead. “Everyone having their strengths.”

Yangyang nodded, his smile turning softer. “Yeah, we’ve been through a lot together. It’s more than just a crew at this point. We’re a family.”

Renjun felt a warmth spread through him, an odd sense of belonging. He’d grown up with his books and his tower, surrounded by knowledge but not necessarily people. To hear Yangyang talk about his crew like that made Renjun realize how much he was missing—how much he could gain from being part of something bigger than himself.

“I think,” Renjun said, breaking the silence between them, “I might actually be starting to understand the pirate life. It sounds like it’s more about loyalty and purpose than just treasure and adventure.”

Yangyang gave him a knowing smile. “Exactly. The treasure’s nice, sure. But the real value’s in the people you’re with.”

Renjun’s thoughts drifted back to his own journey, to the people he was leaving behind in Arrendyll. He didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time, he felt like he was starting to make his own path, one step at a time. And maybe, just maybe, he was ready for whatever came next.

He glanced over at Yangyang, who was already looking ahead, lost in thought. “Thanks, Yangyang,” Renjun said quietly. “I think I needed this. To see a different side of things.”

Yangyang nodded, his usual mischievous grin back in place. “No problem, Renjun. Just make sure you keep up. The real adventure’s just starting.”

Renjun smiled to himself, a sense of anticipation bubbling in his chest. The road ahead was uncertain, but with new friends, new places to see, and new things to learn, it no longer felt so daunting.

The days blended into each other as Renjun, Yangyang, Ten, and Dejun made their way through the dense Elderwood forest of Arrendyll. The towering trees loomed overhead, their vibrant green leaves creating a canopy that shielded them from the sun during the day, but also cast eerie shadows across the path at night. Every evening, they set up camp by a small fire, the crackling sound of burning wood filling the air as they sat close together. Renjun often kept to himself, his thoughts drifting back to his tower and the books he left behind.

The forest was a stark contrast to the stone walls and shelves he had known all his life.

Yangyang, ever the talkative one, kept the mood light by recounting stories of their adventures on the seas, painting a picture of life aboard a pirate ship—far from the quiet, orderly existence Renjun had left behind. Renjun would smile politely, though his mind wandered. Sometimes, he caught himself staring into the darkened forest, wondering about the creatures lurking just out of sight, creatures that roamed the lands of Arrendyll when the sun set. He’d grown used to the calm and predictability of the tower, but the unpredictability of the forests kept him alert, eyes scanning every rustle in the trees or snap of a twig.

“You know,” Yangyang had remarked one night as they sat by the fire, “we’ve got to be careful around here. The creatures in these woods don’t mess around.”

Renjun had glanced up at him, a shiver running down his spine. “I figured. I’ve never heard about so many dangerous creatures in one place before.”

Yangyang chuckled, but there was an edge to his voice. “There’s a reason the people here call it ‘The Wild.’ It’s a pretty accurate name.”

Every night, Renjun would fall asleep with one ear open, waiting for the sounds of prowling beasts or the snapping of branches. His thoughts often wandered back to the stories he had read in the library—legends of creatures that roamed freely in the forests of Arrendyll, some dangerous, some just strange, like the winged stags and shadowed wolves that were said to disappear into the mists as quickly as they appeared. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was watching them, but every morning, they would pack up their camp, and the forest would seem peaceful again, though no less mysterious.

After several days of walking, they stopped by a small village nestled against the edge of the forest. The buildings were modest—simple wood-and-stone cottages with thatched roofs— but the air was fragrant with fresh bread, and the marketplace bustled with villagers trading their goods. It was the perfect place to resupply, small enough to avoid drawing too much attention, yet with enough to offer in terms of food and basic necessities. They had to be cautious, though, as the people of Arrendyll were known for their inquisitive nature, and with Renjun’s distinctive appearance, there was always the chance someone might recognize him from the towers.

“Alright,” Ten said, glancing at Renjun as they approached the market. “Stick to the shadows. Renjun, you’re up. You’re the one who blends in the best.”

Renjun nodded, a little taken aback by how comfortable he had become with this role. For the first time in his life, he was no longer behind a counter or standing in the safety of the library. Now, he was walking through a bustling market, not as a scholar, but as someone who was part of something much bigger—a group of pirates with a mission. He had never been outside the walls of the tower for this long, never had to rely on his own resourcefulness this much. It was thrilling, but also disorienting.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Yangyang asked, noticing the slight hesitation in Renjun’s steps.

Renjun offered a faint smile, brushing off the lingering doubt. “Yeah, I think I can manage. I’ve talked to enough sellers at the tower for years.”

Yangyang chuckled. “True. You’ve got the gift of speech, that’s for sure.”

The marketplace was a strange mix of aromas, sounds, and colors. The low murmur of voices filled the air, interrupted only by the occasional clink of metal or the squawk of a bird.

Renjun took a deep breath, letting the familiar sights of the village ground him as he made his way toward the stalls. He was used to dealing with the more scholarly types—librarians, academics, and those seeking knowledge. But these were different people, villagers going about their daily lives. It was strange to feel out of place, but also oddly exhilarating.

Renjun found a stall selling dried fruits and nuts and approached the woman tending it. She was a middle-aged woman, her face lined with age, but her smile was kind.

“Good day,” Renjun said with his usual polite tone. “We need to restock on some provisions for our journey. A little bit of everything would be ideal—dried fruits, bread, some salted meats if you have them.”

The woman nodded, clearly not too concerned about their identities. She had seen all kinds of travelers in her time. “I’ve got plenty, young man. You look like you’ve been walking a while.”

“We have,” Renjun replied with a small chuckle. “It’s been a long journey.”

Yangyang, standing just behind Renjun, looked around the market, his eyes scanning the people as Renjun did the talking. He was good at blending in, keeping a low profile while Renjun handled the transactions. It helped that Renjun looked the part—he was dressed in simple but elegant clothes, typical of someone from Arrendyll, and his soft brown hair and green eyes were common to the kingdom. No one suspected him of being anything other than an average young man on a long trip.

They purchased what they needed, Renjun doing most of the talking and bargaining as usual. His mind, however, was elsewhere. Every few moments, he would glance back toward the others, making sure the group was still together, still moving with purpose. He couldn’t help but wonder how much longer it would be before they reached their destination—and whether anything would happen between now and then that would change their plans. The pirates may have been used to their adventurous lifestyle, but Renjun knew better than anyone that the world outside the tower was full of unexpected surprises.

“Alright, I think we’re good,” Renjun said as he handed the woman the last of the coins. She gave him a warm smile, wishing them well on their journey.

As they turned to leave, Yangyang nudged Renjun playfully. “Not bad, Renjun. I’m starting to think you’ve got the pirate life down already.”

Renjun smirked, shaking his head. “I’m just getting started. But I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The night in Elderwood, the heart of Arrendyll’s vast, enchanted forest, was eerily quiet, the heavy air thick with the scent of damp earth and blooming flowers. Renjun, Ten, Yangyang, and Dejun had made camp beneath the towering, ancient trees, their flickering campfire casting long, dancing shadows against the gnarled trunks. The forest, alive with the hum of unseen creatures, felt almost… watchful.

The night had taken on an unsettling stillness as the group huddled near the fire, sharing quiet conversation. Renjun, despite the soothing warmth of the fire, couldn’t shake the uneasy sensation crawling beneath his skin. Something felt wrong.

He had been here before—though not under these circumstances. The books he had read as a child in the grand library of Arrendyll had warned him of the dangers that lurked in the darker parts of Elderwood. He had always thought them exaggerated, mythic tales meant to frighten children.

But now, Renjun could feel something was watching them, its presence a suffocating weight in the air.

Suddenly, a low, creaking sound split the air—a sound so deep it felt like it was coming from the very bones of the forest itself. Renjun froze, his breath hitching in his throat. The wind had gone still. Even the insects had gone silent.

"Renjun? What's wrong?" Ten asked, his voice laced with curiosity but with an edge of caution.

Renjun, heart pounding, stood abruptly, his eyes scanning the darkness beyond the firelight. "They’re here," he whispered, barely audible. "Moss Reapers. We need to move, now."

Before anyone could react, the ground beneath their feet trembled. A series of terrible cracking sounds echoed through the trees as dark shapes began to emerge from the shadows. Their bodies were hulking masses of bark, moss, and creeping vines, their limbs unnaturally long and grotesquely twisted. The firelight flickered as if it were struggling to exist in the face of their presence.

"Move!" Renjun yelled, grabbing Ten’s arm. But it was too late.

The Moss Reapers’ massive forms lurched forward with terrifying speed, their limbs stretching like those of giant, monstrous trees. Their eyes—pale, milky, and blank—seemed to pierce through the darkness, locking onto their prey. Their skin, covered in thick moss and tangled vines, seemed to pulse with a grotesque life of its own. The air grew heavy with the scent of decay and the earth.

"Stay close!" Renjun shouted, backing away as he pulled Ten and the others in tow. The Moss Reapers were closing in, their limbs moving like the crushing jaws of the earth itself.

Renjun’s mind raced. He knew what these creatures were capable of. These were not simple beasts of the forest; they were ancient predators, capable of sapping the life from anyone who came too close. Their moss-covered bodies were designed to blend into the environment, making them nearly invisible until it was too late.

“They feed on life!” Renjun warned, his voice strained with urgency. "They drain it until there’s nothing left!"

As if in response to his words, one of the Moss Reapers reached out, its vines snaking toward Ten. The pirate barely had time to react before the vine wrapped around his leg, pulling him off his feet. His shout of panic was drowned out by the eerie creaking of the creature’s movements. Renjun’s heart lurched as he watched the moss-covered limb constrict, squeezing tightly, cutting off Ten’s breath.

"Help him!" Yangyang cried out, rushing forward, but another vine whipped out and struck him hard in the chest, sending him sprawling to the ground with a thud.

Dejun cursed under his breath, drawing his sword, but as he raised it, a cluster of vines shot from the ground, wrapping around his wrist and yanking it from his hand. He struggled to break free, but the vines tightened, pulling him toward the massive, gaping maw of the Moss Reaper.

Renjun’s pulse raced as he scanned the surroundings, his mind scrambling for a way to stop the creatures. He had to act quickly. “The moss! It feeds on energy! If we kill the vines, we kill them!”

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small vial of salt—a rare and precious substance from the southern shores of Emeria. He had read of its ability to weaken creatures that drew strength from the earth. Holding it tightly, Renjun rushed toward the nearest Moss Reaper, pulling the cork from the vial.

The creature, sensing his approach, roared low, a guttural sound that reverberated through the very ground. Its arms reached out, crashing through the underbrush as it lunged for Renjun.

He hurled the salt vial at the creature’s bark-like skin. As it hit, a flash of bright light flared, and the moss-covered skin of the Reaper sizzled and began to burn. The creature shrieked in fury as the vines started to wither and crumble, the life force inside them fading.

“Renjun! What do we do now?” Ten shouted, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to free himself from the Reaper’s hold.

Renjun grabbed a burning branch from the campfire, using it as a makeshift weapon. “We have to burn them! The vines are their lifeblood. We need fire!”

With a powerful swing, Renjun slashed the burning branch at the vines that bound Ten, the flames licking at the edges of the creature’s writhing form. The Reaper recoiled with a screech, but the vines didn’t loosen.

“Quick! Fire! Everywhere!” Renjun ordered.

Ten, though injured, grabbed another burning branch, and Yangyang followed suit. Together, they began to lash out at the vines. Each strike sent a spray of sparks flying into the night air as the fire caught on the thick moss. The Reapers screeched, their bodies writhing as the fire spread, eating away at the vines and bark.

In a final, frantic push, the group overwhelmed the creature, cutting away the vines, burning the moss, and setting the beast aflame. The Moss Reaper’s screams echoed through the forest as it finally crumbled to the ground, smoldering and lifeless.

But the battle was far from over. Renjun turned, his breath coming in ragged gasps, to see another Reaper charging toward them, its massive limbs reaching out for the group.

"We need to run!" Renjun shouted. “Head for the clearing!”

They fled as fast as they could, the sounds of creaking wood and rustling vines echoing behind them. With every step they took, the forest seemed to come alive with more danger, more creatures waiting to tear them apart. But Renjun’s knowledge, his quick thinking, and their burning resolve kept them alive long enough to reach the clearing where the trees were fewer, where the path might offer a chance at escape.

Breathless and shaken, they paused, each of them casting frantic glances over their shoulders. Behind them, the Moss Reapers’ shrieks began to fade as the fire spread through the underbrush.

"That… that was too close," Dejun panted, looking around at the others, his expression pale with shock.

Renjun wiped his brow, still trembling from the fight. “It’s not over. They’ll follow us until we leave their territory.”

The fire from the forest burned brightly in the distance, but the danger was far from gone. As the group caught their breath, Renjun couldn’t help but wonder how much more they’d have to face in the heart of Elderwood before they reached Carran.

"Before humans walked the lands of Erithrea, it belonged to ancient creatures born of magic, their power shaping the world itself. Beasts with shimmering scales and ethereal beings brought life and fire, their legacy etched into the bloodlines of kings and the forgotten corners of the continent. Though their forms have vanished, their echoes linger still, hidden in shadow and story."

Myths and Mysteries of Ancient Erithrea

The journey continued, and with each passing day, Renjun felt more and more like a part of

the crew—one step closer to his destination, one step farther from the life he had known. The adventures that awaited were still a mystery, but they were his now. And for the first time, that didn’t feel as scary as it once had.

As they walked closer to the border of Carran, the change in the landscape was immediate and striking. The once dense and vibrant greenery of the Arrendyll forest gradually gave way to the rich, golden hues of autumn, the trees now bare and scattered with the crisp fallen leaves beneath their feet. The transition was so subtle, yet so profound—it was as if they had crossed an invisible line, entering a different world altogether.

The air grew cooler as they continued on, the sun low in the sky casting long shadows that stretched over the path. Renjun couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of it all—the shades of amber, russet, and ochre painted across the horizon, the way the wind rustled the dried leaves and sent them swirling through the air like dancers caught in an endless waltz. It was a world so different from the endless green of Arrendyll, and yet there was something oddly familiar about it, as if the very atmosphere had drawn out memories from his childhood, buried deep within his heart.

"Looks like we’re officially in Carran now," Yangyang said, his voice breaking Renjun from his reverie. He glanced at Yangyang, who was looking around, a small smile on his face as he took in the autumn landscape. Ten and Dejun, walking a few paces ahead, had been quiet for some time, their eyes scanning the surroundings.

"I didn’t expect it to look like this," Renjun remarked, glancing around in awe. "It’s so... calm. Almost peaceful."

Yangyang chuckled. "Yeah, Carran’s a beautiful kingdom. We've been to the shores of this kingdom. The whole place is like this—the land of eternal autumn. But don’t let the beauty fool you. It’s not always peaceful. The people here are tough, and there’s more going on beneath the surface than it seems."

Renjun raised an eyebrow, curious. "What do you mean?"

Yangyang shrugged, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Well, you know how every kingdom has its secrets? Carran’s no different. Some say there’s a power struggle happening behind the scenes. And then there’s the Hellfire Pool. The locals probably know of it but kept their mouth shut, hence the need of a map for us."

Renjun nodded thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing as he took in the land stretching before them. He had heard of Carran’s reputation—how it was known for its rich, beautiful landscapes, its skilled craftsmen, and its long history. But he also read about the hidden dangers that seemed to be lurking beneath the surface, waiting to surface.

"It’s strange," Renjun murmured, more to himself than to Yangyang. "Arrendyll is so full of life and knowledge. But this... this feels different. It feels like something’s always on the brink of changing."

Yangyang seemed to sense Renjun’s unease and turned to him with a reassuring smile.

"You’ll get used to it. People here are just as strong as the land they live in. And you’ve got us with you now, so don’t worry."

Renjun gave him a small smile, grateful for the reassurance but still feeling the weight of uncertainty settle in his chest. Carran wasn’t just any kingdom—it was the key to the Hellfire Pool, the place that could hold the power to protect or destroy entire kingdoms. He had come all this way for a reason, and the closer they got to the pit, the more the enormity of their mission seemed to press down on him.

They continued walking, the path becoming slightly steeper as they moved deeper into Carran. The trees here were ancient, towering high above them with bark darkened by age, and the ground beneath their feet was littered with leaves that crunched softly with each step. Renjun kept his senses sharp, the same way he would when exploring an old archive. He was on a mission, but also, in a way, he was rediscovering the world outside of the Aeon Tower— a world that was vast, unpredictable, and teeming with secrets he had only ever read about.

❀⋆.◌ೃ࿔*:·❀

As they ventured deeper into Carran, the atmosphere shifted. The air grew thicker with tension, and the peaceful serenity of the autumn landscape seemed to give way to an undercurrent of danger. Renjun couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched, as if the very forest itself was aware of their presence.

The path they followed began to narrow, winding its way through dense clusters of trees, their twisted branches casting long shadows on the ground. The temperature had dropped slightly, the crisp autumn air becoming more biting as they pushed forward. The group had slowed their pace, mindful of the possibility of encountering more dangers, when they suddenly heard a rustle in the brush behind them.

Renjun froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Yangyang’s hand instinctively went to the dagger at his side, his eyes scanning the forest for any sign of movement. Ten and Dejun exchanged a quick look, their hands also poised at the ready.

Before anyone could react, the rustling turned into footsteps—heavy, purposeful. The sound grew closer, and then, like a burst of thunder, a group of guards emerged from the undergrowth. Their armor gleamed like rubies in the fading sunlight, and their presence was as imposing as the towering trees around them. Each one wore a full set of gleaming ruby-red armor, adorned with intricate gold engravings, their helmets shaped with sharp, angular designs that gave them an almost predatory look. They moved with precision, their formation a display of military training and discipline.

"Stop right there!" one of the guards called out, his voice deep and commanding, echoing through the woods. The others fanned out, surrounding them in an instant.

Yangyang’s hand tightened on the hilt of his dagger, but he made no move to attack, waiting for the right moment. Dejun and Ten stepped closer to Renjun, shielding him with their presence. Renjun's heart raced, his eyes darting between the guards and his companions, wondering what their next move would be.

The leader of the guards stepped forward, his eyes sharp and calculating. He was tall, with auburn hair that peeked out from under his helmet, and his expression was one of steely determination. "You are trespassing in Carran," he said coldly, his gaze locking onto Renjun and Yangyang. "State your business."

Renjun’s mind raced. He hadn’t expected this kind of encounter, especially not with the Carranian guards. He had only heard stories about the kingdom’s strict borders and the vigilance of its citizens. Carran, with its towering, gilded citadels and ancient traditions, had always been a place of mystery. And now, the guards themselves seemed to embody everything he had imagined about the kingdom: intimidating, precise, and ever watchful.

"We mean no harm," Renjun spoke up, his voice steady despite the tension coursing through him. He tried to remain calm, though every instinct told him to flee. "We’re travelers, just passing through. We didn’t mean to cross into your lands."

The guard’s eyes narrowed, suspicion in his gaze. He seemed to study them for a moment, weighing their words. Renjun could feel the weight of his scrutiny, and for a moment, the air felt thick with uncertainty.

"Travelers, you say?" The guard’s voice was skeptical. "Carran is no place for wanderers. Especially not with the state of things." He glanced at his companions, signaling them to move closer. The others flanked the group, forming a tight circle around them. Renjun couldn’t help but notice the intricate, almost regal nature of their uniforms. Their armor was more than just functional—it was a statement, a symbol of the Carranian pride and power.

Yangyang, ever the quick thinker, spoke up before Renjun could say more. "We’re heading to the city, just looking for a safe path," he said, his voice smooth and casual. "We’ve heard there are dangers in the forest, and we thought we’d try to get through before dark."

The guard leader studied them for another long moment, his gaze flicking from one person to another. "You’re lying," he said bluntly. "And you’re not from here. The boy, especially." He pointed at Renjun, his finger unwavering. "What’s your true purpose in Carran?"

Renjun felt a chill run down his spine, but he didn’t back down. "We’re not here to cause trouble," he said, his voice now tinged with urgency. "We just need to pass through. It’s important."

The leader of the guards remained unmoved. "And why should I believe you?" he asked, his voice colder now, full of suspicion.

Before Renjun could answer, the tension broke—shouts echoed from deeper within the forest, signaling that more guards were approaching. They had been surrounded, and escape was becoming more unlikely by the second. The air became thick with the sound of approaching footsteps, and Renjun knew that their time was running out.

"Run!" Yangyang suddenly shouted, and without hesitation, he broke into a sprint, darting toward the trees. Ten and Dejun followed immediately, pulling Renjun along with them. The guards shouted, their voices loud and commanding, but the group was already moving faster than they could react. Renjun's heart pounded in his chest as they broke through the dense forest, the sounds of pursuit growing fainter but no less menacing.

As they ran, Renjun caught glimpses of the Carranian guards. Their armor gleamed in the dim light, their movements swift and efficient, like hunters tracking prey. The soldiers’ presence had felt suffocating, their stern, regal appearances making the woods feel even darker, more dangerous than before. Carran’s people were known for their strength, and these guards were no exception. They weren’t just protectors of their kingdom—they were its embodiment, fierce and unyielding.

"Keep going!" Ten yelled ahead, his voice harsh and commanding as they ducked between the trees, pushing through the thickening underbrush. "We’ve got to lose them."

Renjun's breath came in sharp gasps, but he couldn’t help but glance back, anxiety gnawing at him. The Carranians were fast, but they had the advantage in numbers. Would they be able to escape?

His mind raced with possibilities as they sprinted deeper into the forest, the crimson armor of the guards a stark contrast against the golden autumn leaves.

"Don’t stop!" Yangyang urged, looking back only briefly. "We have to get to the clearing ahead—just a little further!"

Renjun pushed himself harder, determined to outrun the guards. His mind wandered briefly to the path ahead: Carran was a kingdom full of secrets, of danger, and perhaps—just perhaps— a place where he could fulfill the dream he’d harbored for so long.

But right now, all that mattered was escaping the clutches of the Carranian guards.

Renjun’s heart was pounding in his chest, and he could feel the cool wind biting at his skin. He shifted uneasily next to Yangyang, his breath shallow. Despite their best efforts to remain quiet, the adrenaline rushing through him made it hard to stay still for long.

Ten, ever the calm one, stood closest to the edge of their hiding spot, peeking through the branches. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he observed the movement of the guards. Dejun was beside him, checking their weapons and whispering something quietly to him. Meanwhile, Yangyang was focused entirely on Renjun, his presence a calm anchor amidst the storm of thoughts swirling in Renjun’s mind.

“Are they close?” Renjun whispered, his voice barely audible, his words shaking slightly from the anxiety that had been building.

Yangyang’s gaze softened as he turned to him, his usual confident smirk replaced with a genuine look of concern. “They’re close, but we’re staying hidden. No one’s going to find us as long as we stay quiet.”

Dejun glanced over his shoulder at them, giving Renjun an encouraging nod. “We’ve got you, don’t worry. We’ll be okay.”

Renjun wasn’t so sure, but hearing their voices was enough to calm him — even if only a little. His gaze shifted to the ground beneath them, where the forest floor was littered with orange and red leaves, the brilliant colors starkly contrasting with the muted tones of their clothes. It was hard to blend in when everything around them was so vibrant, but they had no choice but to hope their luck held.

“I still can’t believe I’m here,” Renjun muttered, his fingers clenching around a small branch he had pulled off a nearby shrub. The constant fear and the reality of what they were doing had settled in him, but he couldn’t ignore how out of place he felt. The pirates’ mission wasn’t his own, after all. He was only tagging along to help, and he felt like he was putting them in more danger.

Yangyang’s eyes caught his, noticing Renjun's dilemma, his usual teasing glint replaced with something more serious. “You’re here because we allowed you to be.” He leaned in a little closer, his voice low and steady. “You’re not dragging anyone into anything. This is our mission, but you’re with us because we trust you. Don’t forget that.”

Renjun couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief at Yangyang’s words. The reassurance in his voice settled something in his chest. He had been worried about slowing them down, about becoming a burden, but Yangyang’s calm demeanor made him feel like he was more than just the extra person on the journey.

“I just don’t want to get in the way,” Renjun admitted softly, his eyes meeting Yangyang’s for a brief moment. “You guys have been doing this for so long, and I’m just… tagging along.”

Yangyang gave him a small, reassuring smile. “It’s not about how long we’ve been doing this. It’s about what we’re doing now. And right now, we’re all in this together.” His hand rested gently on Renjun’s arm, the touch grounding and warm in a way that made Renjun feel safer, even in such a tense moment.

Before Renjun could respond, a soft rustling in the distance interrupted their moment. The guards were nearly upon them. The group tensed, their hands instinctively reaching for weapons as they prepared to defend themselves if necessary.

Ten raised his hand, signaling for everyone to stay silent. He could hear the guards moving closer, their footsteps almost deafening now.

Renjun’s breath caught in his throat.

“They're here,” Yangyang whispered, and the pirates instinctively fell into a defensive stance, weapons at the ready.

Renjun’s heart pounded in his chest. The guards were on their way directly toward the group. The pirates looked like they would be easy to spot—dark clothes in witha stark difference to the environment, tattoos, and weapons clearly meant for the sea, not the woods. They stood out in stark contrast to the forest’s rich autumn colors.

Renjun felt a lump form in his throat. Their cover was blown. He hadn’t expected this kind of trouble before they even reached Carran, but now they had no choice but to move fast.

“What do we do?” Renjun whispered.

Ten, ever the strategist, made a quick decision. “Hide, now. Don’t make a sound.”

The group scattered to find cover. Renjun, though small, managed to slip behind the thick trunk of a large tree, crouching down low and pressing himself against the bark. His heart beat loudly in his chest as the Carranians approached, their footfalls heavy and deliberate.

Renjun held his breath, peering through the small gap between the leaves and branches. The Carranians’ ruby armor stood out like fire against the backdrop of the autumn woods, and he knew it would be hard to stay hidden for long.

A few tense moments passed. The sound of soldiers’ boots grew louder, and Renjun's nerves began to fray. But then, just as the Carranians were about to pass them by, something else entered the clearing.

The ground rumbled with the weight of another group approaching. Renjun stiffened. This time, the sight was unmistakable—Emerian knights. Blue armor adorned with gold, the sigils of their kingdom clear against the muted tones of the forest. They entered with weapons drawn, their sharp eyes scanning the trees for any sign of movement.

“Stand down!” the Emerian knight commander called out. His voice rang out with authority as he raised his sword high. “Carranians! This land belongs to Carran, yes, but the Hellfire Pool is a shared resource! We will not let you have it unchecked!”

Renjun’s mind raced. The Hellfire Pool—so that was why they were here.

The Carranian captain sneered. “The hellfire belongs to Carran,” he spat, clearly undeterred. “You would try to stop us?”

The Emerian knight’s grip on his sword tightened. “We’ve been charged with retrieving it, and the fire is for all kingdoms. It isn't yours to keep alone,” he retorted, his gaze unyielding.

Renjun’s eyes widened as the tension thickened. The Carranians wanted the Hellfire Pool all—something that the pirates had alluded to before, but now it was clear: Carran was intent on taking control of the hellfire for themselves. The fabled pit was a source of immense power, and if Carran succeeded in wielding it, there was no telling what chaos it could cause across Erithea without its protection from the blood witches.

Renjun glanced at the pirates. Ten was already moving, keeping low, gesturing for Renjun and the others to retreat further into the trees. They had to get away before things escalated further. The Carranians were already advancing toward the location of the Hellfire Pool—and if they couldn’t stop them, the consequences could be catastrophic.

As the two groups stood off, Renjun felt a pang of frustration. They were so close. The Hellfire Pool was just ahead, but they couldn’t get to it if they were caught in the middle of this battle.

Yangyang leaned close to Renjun, his breath sharp and quiet. “They’re not just fighting for land, Renjun,” he said, his eyes flicking between the two groups. “They’re fighting for control over the pit. We can’t let that happen.”

Renjun nodded, his mind whirring. They had come this far—and the Hellfire Pool was the key to everything, to defeating the blood witches. But now, the fight was no longer just about getting there—it was about getting there first.

As the battle between the Carranians and Emerians continued, Renjun’s thoughts turned to the pirates. They’d known about the Hellfire Pool, but this was a new layer of danger he hadn’t anticipated. He’d been so focused on reaching the pit that he hadn’t fully considered how much conflict lay between him and that goal.

The clash of swords echoed in the distance. Renjun’s instincts screamed at him to move, to get out of the way. But something in him—something deep inside—told him that this was no longer just a quest for knowledge. The Hellfire Pool was a symbol of power, and whoever controlled it would control the fate of the entire continent.

As the pirates led Renjun further into the woods, away from the battle, his thoughts turned to the journey ahead. They were no longer just travelers—they were part of something much bigger. They had to stop Carran from taking control of the hellfire.

The sun had nearly set, casting long shadows across the forest as the battle unfolded. The forest that had once felt peaceful, lush, and rich with autumn colors was now stained with the harsh sounds of steel clashing, grunts of exertion, and the deep echoes of war cries. The Carranian guards, resplendent in their ruby armor, clashed against the blue-and-gold-armored Emerian knights, the colors the kingdom a stark in the fiery landscape of the forest.

Renjun crouched behind a large oak tree, heart racing, his breath shallow as the chaos unfolded before him. The rustling of leaves and the thundering of hooves signaled the fierce fight that had erupted between the two groups. For a moment, everything seemed a blur—the clang of swords, the shouts, the crackle of arrows splitting the air.

Ten motioned for everyone to stay low, but even as they followed his orders, Renjun couldn’t tear his eyes away from the brutal spectacle. The Carranian guards were vicious in their attacks. Their swords were long, sharp, and unyielding, making quick work of the knights who were unprepared for such ferocity.

The Emerian knights, on the other hand, were disciplined, their movements more calculated and precise. They fought in formation, guarding one another’s backs, their blue armor gleaming in stark contrast to the Carranians. The clash of metal against metal rang out in an unholy symphony, and the forest floor became slick with blood as both sides collided.

Renjun could see the knight commander leading his men at the forefront, his golden sword flashing in the air as he parried a blow from one of the Carranians. With a swift movement, he took down the Carranian guard, sending his opponent crashing to the ground. But more guards surged forward, forcing the Emerians to retreat.

“We have to get out of here,” Ten whispered, his face a mask of determination. “Renjun, Dejun, Yangyang—stay close. We can’t risk getting caught.”

Before Renjun could respond, the sound of hooves thundered through the trees, and he saw a group of Carranian cavalry charge toward the Emerian line. The ground shook under the weight of the riders, their swords raised high, and the Emerian knights struggled to form a defense.

A battle cry split the air, and the Carranians came crashing into the Emerian front lines like a tidal wave. Steel clanged against steel, and Renjun watched as a knight was unseated by a powerful blow, his armor dented and crumpled under the force. The Emerians fought back fiercely, but the numbers were against them.

“We need to go now!” Yangyang urged, grabbing Renjun’s arm. But even as he spoke, a group of Carranian guards broke through the Emerian ranks, forcing the pirates and Renjun to retreat deeper into the woods.

The pirates were seasoned fighters, but even they could not stand against the overwhelming force of the Carranians. Dejun and Ten took the lead, fighting off attackers with their blades. Yangyang, despite his youthful exuberance, fought with quick reflexes, dodging strikes and landing blows with a savage intensity.

Renjun, though he had never fought in a battle like this, found himself caught up in the frantic movement. He grabbed a fallen knight’s sword and tried to protect himself, but his grip was unsteady, and the weight of the blade felt foreign in his hands. He dodged one Carranian guard’s strike, only to find himself nearly trapped by another.

But just as the guard was about to bring his sword down on Renjun, Yangyang appeared, blocking the strike with his own blade. The pirate fought, protecting Renjun as they continued to retreat.

“We have to get to the edge of the forest,” Ten shouted, his voice hoarse with urgency. “The battlefield is too closed off. We need to get to the open.”

Renjun nodded, gripping his sword tighter, his breath coming in short gasps. They began to push through the chaos, using the cover of the trees to maneuver around the battle. The sounds of fighting rang in their ears, but they focused only on the path ahead, the thundering of the hooves and the clashing of swords fading behind them.

As they reached the forest’s edge, Renjun risked a glance back at the battlefield. The Carranians were closing in on the remaining Emerian knights, their numbers too great, and the once-pristine forest had become a warzone, littered with bodies and broken weapons.

“We can’t fight them all,” Ten said grimly, his voice tinged with regret. “Our only choice is to run.”

And so, they ran—faster now, with more urgency in their steps. But Renjun could still hear the echoes of the battle behind them, the clash of metal and the anguished cries of fallen knights. It would be a long time before the forests of Carran returned to their peaceful state.

Renjun’s mind spun as he tried to process the enormity of it all. The blood witches, the Hellfire Pool, and now this—the battle between Carran and Emeria. What had started as a simple journey to learn about the pit had quickly become a tangled web of power, politics, and war.

He looked over at Yangyang and saw the same fear and determination in his eyes. They weren’t just walking into Carran anymore. They were walking into the heart of a conflict that could determine the future of all five kingdoms.

The air was thick with the heavy scent of blood and burning wood as Renjun and the pirates, alongside a few surviving Emerian knights, sprinted through the forest. Their breaths came in ragged gasps, hearts pounding, every step carrying them further from the chaos they had just barely escaped. The sound of hooves pounding the earth, the clash of swords, and the cries of their enemies faded into the distance, but the fear that clung to them, like a shadow, remained.

A short Emerian knight who had been running alongside Ten and the rest of the group, was the first to notice it: a clearing, bathed in a faint, unnatural light. The trees around them grew sparse, their trunks darkened with age, leaving room for the eerie glow that emanated from a large, circular pit at the center of the clearing.

“What is that?” Renjun whispered, his voice barely audible over the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He couldn’t see clearly, but the heat from the pit was palpable. It felt like the ground itself was alive, humming with an energy that Renjun could feel deep in his bones. Something about it made his heart race even faster—this wasn’t just any pit. There was power here, dark and primal.

“We’re not going to make it out of here, are we?” Yangyang muttered, eyes wide as he scanned the surroundings.

But before Renjun could answer, the sound of clanging metal reached their ears again. A dozen Carranian guards had found them, their ruby armor glinting in the dim light of the clearing. The heavy stomps of their boots and the rustling of their cloaks signaled their approach. It was too late to run, and they were too close to the boiling pit to fight with any real hope.

“We’re trapped,” Dejun grunted, gripping his blade tightly, his posture defensive as he faced the incoming threat.

Ten looked between his crew, his face a mixture of determination and concern. His eyes flicked to the Emerian knights, who were equally cornered, their armor heavy and their movements sluggish from the chase.

“We can’t fight them all,” Ten muttered, his voice tight with frustration.

It happened so fast. One of the Carranian guards lunged forward, aiming his blade directly at a tall knight, who barely had time to react. The sword tip gleamed in the dim light, flashing toward his chest with deadly intent.

“No!” Ten shouted, throwing himself forward without hesitation, thinking the blade was made for one of his boys.

Time seemed to slow as Ten collided with the knight, the impact sending them both to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The sword, aimed for the knight's heart, plunged directly into Ten’s side instead. The scream that tore from his mouth rang out, guttural and filled with pain.

“Ten!” Dejun roared, his voice raw with panic.

Ten’s face twisted in agony, his hand clutching at the wound in his side, blood seeping between his fingers. He struggled to keep his breath steady, but the pain was too much, his vision beginning to blur.

Renjun’s heart clenched in horror as he watched Ten fight to stay conscious. The air was thick with tension, and in that moment, he knew they had no chance. They were going to die here—caught between the boiling pit and the Carranian guards. But then, something changed.

A sharp, unnatural cold swept through the clearing, cutting through the hot air like a knife.

The sudden temperature drop caused everyone to gasp in surprise, their breath turning to mist in the frigid air. The Carranian guards froze, their movements becoming sluggish, their expressions confused. And then, with a deafening crack, ice shot up from the ground, engulfing the guards in thick, crystalline blocks of ice.

The freezing cold settled over the group, leaving them standing in stunned silence. Renjun’s teeth chattered as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

“What the—?” Yangyang muttered, eyes wide as he scanned the clearing for any sign of the source of the chill.

But there was no time to question. The Carranians had been frozen in place, but the battle was far from over. Renjun turned to see a figure standing at the edge of the clearing, barely visible in the shifting shadows.

“What… what just happened?” Yangyang muttered, his voice trembling with disbelief.

“I don’t know,” Renjun whispered back, gripping the sword tightly as his eyes darted around, searching for answers.

The figure stepped forward from the treeline, the sound of his boots crunching against the frost-covered leaves sending a chill down Renjun’s spine. He looked no older than his Renjun, his white hair gleaming like frost under the dim light. His piercing icy-blue eyes scanned the group with a calm yet unsettling intensity. The young man’s pale skin glowed faintly, and his presence was both mesmerizing and unnerving.

“It was him,” Dejun whispered, clutching his sword tightly, his knuckles white. “He did this.”

The man with the glaring white hair didn’t speak at first. He merely stood there, his gaze flickering over the frozen guards before settling on the group.

Before anyone could move, another figure emerged from the opposite side of the clearing, cloaked in black. He moved with an effortless grace, his strides long and deliberate. His hood was pulled low over his face, but the authority in his presence was unmistakable. The glow from the pit flickered against his silhouette, making him look more like a phantom than a man.

“Who’s that now?” Yangyang hissed, nudging Renjun nervously.

The cloaked figure stopped near the pit, surveying the group with an almost casual demeanor. He raised his hand and gestured toward the frozen guards, his voice smooth and laced with a quiet authority.

“Looks like you’ve had some trouble,” he said, his tone light, as though the chaos around them was of no concern to him. “What brings you here? To this forsaken place?”

Renjun found his voice, though it trembled as he spoke. “We… we’re looking for the Hellfire Pool,” he said, his words rushing out. “To protect the kingdoms. To stop the blood witches.”

At that, the man chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down Renjun’s spine. He reached up and pulled back his hood, revealing a face so unnaturally beautiful that Renjun had to blink to confirm he wasn’t imagining it. High cheekbones, flawless skin, and blazing red eyes that seemed to hold a thousand secrets met his gaze. The man looked ethereal, almost otherworldly, and his beauty was so striking it felt almost unreal.

“I’m afraid,” the man said, his lips curving into a faint, almost sorrowful smile, “you’ve come too late.”

“What do you mean?” Ten asked, stepping forward despite his injuries, his voice sharp with desperation.

The man turned his gaze toward Ten, his expression unreadable. “The black fire you’re seeking… it’s long gone. Devoured by creatures centuries ago, leaving only a bottle’s worth in the depths of this pit.”

His words hit like a thunderclap. The hope that had kept them moving, fighting, surviving— now seemed to vanish into the cold night air.

“That can’t be true,” the tall knight said, his voice tight with disbelief. “We’ve come so far— risked everything.”

“It is true,” the man replied calmly. “I would know. I am its last guardian.” The group exchanged shocked glances as his words sank in.

“You’re… the Hellfire Guardian?” Youngho asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The man nodded. “Taeyong. The last of my kind.”

The white-haired young man stepped forward, his icy gaze still locked on the group. His silence spoke volumes, but the chill in the air seemed to ripple with his movements, making everyone uneasy.

“Who is he then?” Renjun asked, his eyes flickering toward the man with the frost.

Taeyong glanced at the young man before turning back to the group. “He is my companion,” he said simply. “His name is Jeno. And if you think this pit will solve your problems… you’ve gravely misunderstood the nature of the power you seek.”

Renjun felt a sinking feeling in his chest. Their journey, their struggles, all of it—it felt meaningless now. “Then what do we do?” he asked, his voice trembling.

Taeyong stepped closer, his piercing gaze locking onto Renjun’s. “You survive,” he said. “And you prepare for what’s coming. The blood witches won’t stop. Not for you, not for your kingdoms. And certainly not for me.”

His words hung in the cold air like a death sentence. Renjun’s grip on Yangyang’s hand tightened, his mind racing. There had to be another way, another solution—but for the first time, he wasn’t sure.