Two men sat across from each other at a small table—one wearing a wry smile, the other calmly composed.
"You know," William said, resting his arms on the table, "it was very convenient that you showed up just as I was thinking of looking for you. Almost like you were reading my mind. Or maybe… following me until the perfect moment to appear."
"That's absurd," Sebastian replied flatly. "I don't have the luxury of stalking you all day. I've got a long trip ahead of me, and I've been out preparing for it."
"So you're saying this is all just… fate?"
"If you believe in that sort of thing," the butler replied, glancing at him. "I'd call it coincidence."
William had left Paul's shop with the decision made: he would accept Sebastian's request. It was sooner than they had agreed on, but something in him pushed to move early. And wouldn't you know it—just as he turned a corner, there stood the butler himself.
"Did you have enough time to think it through?" Sebastian asked.
William gave a slow nod. "Yeah. I did."
The butler leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he studied the blacksmith. "You look… resolved. Like someone who's come to terms with something. You're different from the man I spoke with days ago."
"I can't deny it," William admitted. "At first, I didn't want anything to do with your request. But after digging around, I uncovered some things about my family… things I need answers for. I'm not getting younger. I don't want to take those questions to the grave."
"Aren't you in your twenties?"
"You know what I mean. Besides, it's not like I ever had much of a choice."
"Mr. Jae—"
"—Wi-lli-am," the blacksmith interrupted, giving him a sharp glare.
Sebastian chuckled lightly. "William, then. You make it sound like I'm the villain here."
William smirked. "Did I say that?"
He didn't trust Sebastian—not entirely. He still wasn't sure what game the butler was playing, or what shady tasks he might be helping him pull off. And yet… William couldn't sense any malice from him. There was something oddly sincere about the man. Even if William had learned not to trust his gut too much—especially after his short-lived merchant days—he didn't feel like he was being led into a trap.
"We both know that if I'd said no, you would've dragged me along anyway."
Sebastian smirked. "You know me well. Does this mean what I think it does?"
William sighed. "Yeah. I'm accepting your request."
This wasn't just a journey. It was a confrontation with his past. That letter from his great-grandfather—intended for someone it never reached—had been hidden away like it was meant to stay lost. But now it had surfaced. And William had to know why.
He raised one finger. "But. There's a condition."
Sebastian leaned back and crossed his arms. "Alright, William. Let's hear it."
"We stay out of each other's business. Whatever you're doing there—I won't interfere. And the same goes for you with me."
"No meddling. Understood," Sebastian said with a nod. "Honestly, that'll make my job easier."
"Good. Then let's talk plans. We'll need transportation, supplies, and some protection."
"Transportation?" Sebastian blinked. "Can't we just walk? That's what I do to get around."
William gave him a flat look. "Only freaks of nature like you can handle that. We'll need a carriage. I assume that won't be a problem, seeing as you're working for Mr. Reinsfield."
A bead of sweat ran down Sebastian's temple. "I-I'll see what I can do…"
Though pleased things were going his way, the butler's expression shifted to one of mild defeat.
William clapped his hands. "And, of course, let's talk reward. I want gold." He held up five fingers.
Sebastian slammed the table. "What?! That's insane! Even my master doesn't pay that much—I'd have to sell myself!"
William shrugged. "I'm the one walking into a psychological minefield. I think a little compensation is warranted."
Sebastian groaned. "Why do I feel like I'm the one losing here?!"
William chuckled. "Relax. I'm just messing with you. Whatever your master offers will be fine. Besides, I've got my own reasons for going. Might as well get paid for the trip."
"Oh really…" Sebastian muttered dryly. "You make the worst jokes, Mr. Jaeger."
"William."
"Right… I need a drink."
The butler sighed, finally accepting the terms. It wasn't ideal, but it was the smoothest outcome he could hope for.
"I guess… if it's for my lady, I'd endure worse."
"Hm? What was that?" William raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing. We agreed not to meddle, remember?"
"Oh, now you're clever?"
Sebastian tilted his head. "Did I not look like a clever man before?"
William imagined him dressed in green camouflage, sneaking around the forest like some over-eager scout.
"Nope," he said flatly. "Just a complete idiot."
Now that William had accepted the offer and the small talk was over, it was time to get down to planning. The route to the temple wasn't going to be easy. If everything went well, the trip would still take at least a month and a half—depending on the road, the weather, and their luck.
"We're currently in Aoba," William said, laying out a map across the bar counter. "It's the closest town to the Lost Forest—the biggest forest in the kingdom." He traced a path with his finger. "We're south of it. The temple's in the northeast. Going around the forest would take too long. The only viable option is cutting through it."
Sebastian leaned in. "Right… but that damned mountain's in the way. We'll need a route that takes us through the forest and across the mountains as quickly—and safely—as possible. I assume growing up there gives you the upper hand?"
William frowned.
—Not exactly.
He'd lived near the edge of the forest, yes. But he'd never been welcomed by the Drakon tribe who inhabited its deeper regions. In fact, they had kept their distance from him, cold and uninviting. They never let him cross into their territory.
"I know of one route. I've heard talk of it… but it's not easy. And it comes with complications."
It was the fastest way, yes—but also the most dangerous. Rumor had it the path was impassable without the aid of the Drakon tribe.
Specifically, her.
—But how the hell am I supposed to get her to help?
The tribe had always treated William like an outcast, and he'd never gotten the sense that time had softened their stance.
"Before we go any further," he said, "how much time do we have to get there?"
Sebastian answered without hesitation. "Two weeks."
William nearly choked. "Are you insane?! That's impossible. The forest alone takes a week to get through, and the temple's at the far northeast corner!"
"I don't have the luxury of time!" Sebastian snapped, slamming his hand down on the bar, causing a few heads in the tavern to turn.
He cleared his throat and lowered his voice again. "I know what the travel time looks like. But there's someone I know—someone waiting on the other side. If we can make it through the forest and cross the mountain quickly enough, he'll get us the rest of the way."
William didn't press further. He could tell—whatever this mission was, it couldn't wait. The urgency in Sebastian's voice said more than his words.
"…Fine. I'll find a way. Just means I have to pay an old 'friend' a visit."
They continued sketching out the route, hashing out possibilities, but neither of them seemed completely sure it would all work. Still, they both hoped it would.
With the route roughly established, there were two key things left to discuss.
"Let's talk transportation and supplies," William said.
"I've got weapons covered," he added. "I've also managed to stockpile a good amount of food, so we're set on that front too. But you'll need to handle the carriage. I don't own one, and, well… I'm not exactly swimming in coin these days."
He scratched his cheek, slightly embarrassed to admit it.
Sebastian sighed. "I figured as much the moment I saw where you lived. Fine. I'll handle the carriage."
"I'll forge a few extra weapons before we go. For you too."
Sebastian blinked in surprise. "For me? I was under the impression you only forged for yourself… or so the rumors go."
William groaned. "Who's spreading those? No wonder my work's dried up lately…" He rubbed his temples. "Well, they're partly true. I don't usually craft for others—but things change. And you're paying. Just don't get greedy."
Sebastian gave him a short, formal bow. "Understood. I would be most grateful."
William stood, stretching his arms. "I'd better get started, then. I'm going to put that kid through the wringer tonight. He's not getting any sleep."
"…Might want to rephrase that next time," Sebastian muttered, resting his chin in his palm as William turned to leave.
The butler's voice followed him. "The boy… are you planning to bring him?"
William paused. "What do you mean?"
"Don't you think it's too dangerous for him? He's just a kid."
William frowned. "I believe in the kid. He's got guts."
Sebastian fell silent, a thoughtful expression clouding his face.
"If you've got something to say, say it," William said. "Staring into the void won't get us anywhere."
"…Forgive me," the butler replied, his expression cooling. "But don't you find something… odd about him?"
William's eyes narrowed. "What the hell do you mean by that?"
Sebastian glanced off to the side, then shook his head. "…Forget it. Maybe it's just my imagination." He stood and placed a hand on William's shoulder. "I'll handle the carriage. Meet me at the town gate tomorrow at dawn."
William watched as he turned and headed for the exit, confusion written all over his face.
"What the hell was that about?" he muttered.
"—Excuse me, Mr. William Jaeger?"
He turned toward the voice. A waitress stood behind the counter, hands folded nervously in front of her.
William blinked. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, his tone a little rough from being pulled mid-thought.
She bowed respectfully. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but… I need to speak with you. It's about Lucy."
***
"Ugh! You reek of alcohol!"
"Hey, the proper greeting is 'Welcome back!'"
The moment William stepped through the front door, the scent of beer practically flooded the room. He'd downed at least eight to ten glasses during his meeting with Sebastian. Negotiations had gone smoothly, but that didn't stop the cold glare from one particular member of his household.
"Here I am," Nicolas grumbled, "the soon-to-be legend, working my fingers to the bone while his good-for-nothingmaster is off enjoying himself at the bar… in broad daylight, no less. And this isn't even the first time."
"When you're an adult," William said, slipping off his boots, "you'll understand that any time is a good time for a drink."
"Whatever you say. I'm steering clear of that stuff."
Nicolas still remembered his first (and only) experience with alcohol. Everyone made it seem like the greatest thing in the world—smiles, laughter, fun. But when he tried it? One glass was all it took to send him face-first into the bar floor. His throat had burned, his limbs went numb, and to make matters worse, Sebastian had been there to witness his downfall.
He clenched his fists. That humiliation still burned.
"So? Did everything go smoothly with that evil demon?"
"Hm?" William arched an eyebrow. "Didn't know you were so fond of him."
"Ha! As if! I'm getting my revenge on that jerk for making me look bad in front of the whole bar."
"Well, you'll get your chance soon enough. We're leaving tomorrow at dawn."
Nicolas's eyes widened. "That soon?!"
"Sebastian says time isn't on our side. So, we're heading out as early as we can."
The boy's eyes lit up. "Wait—you said we. I'm going too?!"
"Isn't it obvious? I need someone to carry all my equipment."
"…I'm your bellboy?!" Nicolas groaned, shoulders slumping. "Ugh. Fine…"
"That's the spirit!"
With a huff, the boy turned back to his workbench, determination returning to his eyes. He threw himself into his task with newfound urgency, focused and driven. William watched him quietly, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
But then…
—Don't you think something's off with the boy?
William frowned, Sebastian's words creeping into his mind again.
Off? What the hell did he mean by that…?
"You done with that dagger?"
"Just finished one!" Nicolas beamed, holding up the weapon. "Take a look!"
William took it, inspecting it closely.
Last time, Nicolas had chosen high-carbon steel—too brittle. And worse, he'd only sharpened one edge. What he made back then wasn't a dagger. It was a knife.
But this...
Nicolas had selected the right grade of steel. He'd followed the model, shaped it cleanly, beveled both sides of the blade. The brass guard was fitted well, the wooden handle polished and even. He'd tempered the blade just enough—flexible, but not soft. It was a real dagger.
"Well, well," William said, handing it back. "You actually did it this time. Nicely done."
Nicolas lit up, puffing out his chest. "I knew you'd like it! And I did it on the first try too!"
William raised an eyebrow and pointed toward a pile on the floor. "Oh? And what are those, then?"
The boy flailed his arms, panicked. "Th-those? Uh—nothing! Just... early concept models. Don't look!"
William chuckled. "Clean that up before our guest sees it. We don't want her thinking we're a pair of slobs."
He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a small velvet bag. "Here. Open your hand."
Nicolas did, and William dropped a small, glowing shard into it.
"What's this?"
"Mana crystal. You'll melt it down with ten daggers."
"When am I making ten daggers?!"
"Right now. For the trip."
Nicolas stared at him, stunned. "What?!"
William folded his arms. "Get to it. But clean up first—no more scrap piles."
"Just watch—I'll make ten perfect daggers in a row!"
"Yeah, yeah. Start with cleaning."
The boy grumbled as he gathered up the rejects. "Would it kill you to help a little?"
William ignored that and smirked. "By the way… have you been treating our guest properly?"
"Of course! I've been offering her food, drinks, places to rest—I'm not some animal."
"Hmmm… I saw the way you looked at her. You haven't done anything… weird, have you?"
Nicolas spun around, red-faced. "What kind of person do you think I am?! I'm a future legend! I don't do things like that! And besides…" He rubbed the back of his neck, face glowing. "She's… really nice."
William nodded, crossing his arms, quietly pleased. Good. At least I chose someone with a moral compass.
He glanced around. "Speaking of which… where is our damsel in distress?"
"Oh, she said she wanted some fresh air. Probably by the lake."
"Got it. If she asks, tell her I'll be back in a bit."
William made for the door.
Nicolas followed. "Wait—again?! Where are you going this time?"
The blacksmith paused in the doorway. "I'm off to see an old… friend."
And with that, the door closed behind him.