It's been five years since then, and Maxwell had steadily adapted to his life in this unfamiliar world. The once persistent questions about his origins and purpose had gradually faded, replaced by a sense of purpose he hadn't expected. Calla Lily, with its magical charm had transformed from a strange, foreign place into the home he cherished.
Much like Sidgroth, Maxwell had grown into a protector of the town. He had become a boy recognized by the people, though not entirely for his own deeds. Gladiolus, his ever present and monstrous companion, had attracted plenty of attention, often stealing the spotlight. Still, Maxwell didn't mind. He knew that the bond he shared with Gladiolus and the trust he had earned from the people were invaluable. Calla Lily was no longer just a place he existed in—it was a place he wanted to protect.
Under Sidgroth's training, Maxwell had gained better control over his Ornament, honing his ability to influence luck and applying it in battle. Over time, he learned to harness its power, making him a formidable fighter and protector of Calla Lily. Yet, despite his progress, he felt something was off. It was as though his Ornament was incomplete, that its true potential was locked away, leaving him with only a fragment of what he was meant to wield.
Furthermore, there were the visions that plagued him. They came randomly, often fragmented and incoherent, like pieces of a puzzle he couldn't yet figure out. But on the rare occasions they made sense, they showed a glimpse into his past life, in a world far removed from Calla Lily.
But now, Maxwell's focus was clear. His only goals were to protect Calla Lily from any threats that might come and the safety of the place he had come to call home. Like Sidgroth, he had embraced the role of a guardian, dedicating himself to the defense of the town and its people. Though questions about his past still lingered in the corners of his mind, they took a backseat.
Even in appearance, Maxwell had undergone a transformation. Now fifteen years old, he no longer resembled the disoriented boy who first arrived in this world. His once messy black hair was now neatly groomed. He usually favored wearing black pants paired with a white coat and matching black gloves. Though he would wear something different during the summer.
As for Gladiolus, he continued to be Maxwell's loyal and fearsome companion, earning a reputation in Calla Lily as much for his monstrous presence as for his unique abilities. Under Sidgroth's training, Gladiolus's Ornament was revealed. Sidgroth had called it Shadow Beast. The Ornament allowed Gladiolus to merge seamlessly into any form of shade, vanishing entirely from sight. From there, he could move safely within the shadows or even teleport between them, provided a shadow existed as his destination. It was a power that made Gladiolus very elusive, though its reliance on the presence of shade showed a clear limitation.
But even with all the training with Sidgroth, neither Maxwell nor Gladiolus could have anticipated the events that were about to happen on this day.
As usual, Maxwell woke up and began his d
patrol around Calla Lily with Gladiolus trailing behind him. Maxwell found comfort in the familiar sights and sounds. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until snippets of conversation from people caught his attention.
"The White Crusader is visiting," someone whispered excitedly.
"One of the Victorious Ten? Here in Calla Lily?" another voice chimed in.
Maxwell's steps slowed as he heard the conversation. The White Crusader, a name that was well known, not just in Calla Lily, but across the entire region. He was one of Sidgroth's allies from the Victorious Ten.
"Gladiolus," Maxwell muttered, his interest piqued. "We need to find Sidgroth."
As Maxwell wandered through the streets of Calla Lily, in search for Sidgroth, he eventually found himself drawn toward the heart of the town. A large open square came into view, the square, often a hub for locals to gather, was quieter than usual today. Maxwell, who had grown accustomed to the hum of the marketplace, felt the unusual stillness in the air before he even spotted Sidgroth.
From a distance, he saw Sidgroth conversing with a small group near the square's edge, but it wasn't his mentor that caught Maxwell's attention. Instead, it was the figure standing just beyond the crowd, a figure whose presence seemed to attract the attention of everyone around. The figure stood tall nearly the same height as Sidgroth, their silhouette partially obscured by the sun reflecting off their armor. The figure wore heavy white armor, beneath the plates was a dark blue bodysuit that stretched tightly across the figure's powerful frame, with a golden collar resting at the neckline. The armor itself was adorned with red markings etched into its surface.
What truly struck Maxwell, however, was the figure's mask—a featureless helmet, white and shaped with two horns curving upward from either side. The mask was smooth, lacking any discernible visor or eye holes, making the figure's face entirely unreadable. The lack of expression, combined with the whiteness of the helmet, made it seem almost otherworldly, more like a force of nature than a person. A long mane of red hair fell down from beneath the helmet, tied back neatly, its color contrasting with the rest of the figure's appearance. This warrior was none other than the White Crusader, one of the members of the Victorious Ten.
A small but respectful crowd had formed in a loose circle around the figure, their eyes filled with awe and hesitation. Despite the White Crusader's hero status, there was a noticeable fear among the townspeople. No one dared approach too closely; there was something undeniably intimidating about his presence. Conversations that had been taking place just moments before were now hushed whispers, barely audible, as if even the slightest sound could disturb the intensity that surrounded the White Crusader.
Maxwell couldn't help but feel the weight of that same intensity. Gladiolus, sensing the tension in the air, gave a low growl from beside Maxwell. Maxwell gently patted him on the head, trying to soothe the animal's instincts. "Easy, Gladiolus," Maxwell muttered quietly. "Let's not cause any trouble."
Despite his attempt to calm the situation, Maxwell couldn't help but feel awe was. He had read about the Victorious Ten in countless stories, and their deeds during the void war. And now, one of them stood before him, just within arm's reach.
Maxwell watched the White Crusader walk toward a nearby restaurant. The crowd parted still wary of his presence. Maxwell stood for a moment, before deciding not to stand around and observe from a distance any longer. He made his way toward Sidgroth.
"Hey, isn't that your old friend from back then in The Victorious Ten?" Maxwell asked as he approached. He nodded toward the White Crusader, still making his way toward the entrance of the restaurant. "Shouldn't you go over and say hi?"
Sidgroth glanced over at Maxwell, then back at the White Crusader. His expression remained calm, "I'll give it some time," Sidgroth replied with a shrug. "Besides, I want to see why he's visiting, it might be something important."
Maxwell raised an eyebrow at Sidgroth's response. "Important, huh?" he said. "Must be something big if he's here in person."
"Do you think it has something to do with the disappearances?" Maxwell asked as he looked over at Sidgroth. The rumors of people vanishing had begun circulating.
Sidgroth, however, didn't seem as concerned, his expression remaining calm and as he gave a brief shake of his head. "I doubt it, kid," he replied. "Something like that wouldn't catch his attention, not unless there was something bigger behind it. He's not the kind of person to show up for something as trivial as a few missing people." Sidgroth paused, his gaze narrowing slightly as he continued. "Besides, we're investigating that ourselves. It's not something we need outside help for right now. We'll handle it in our own way."
"Fair point, but the disappearances have become alarming, you know?" Maxwell sighed as he glanced around the square. "It's almost once a week that a few people go missing, and it's starting to feel like more than just coincidence. Not to mention, but nobody really knows what's going on." He paused for a moment.
Sidgroth's expression hardened as he listened, his eyes narrowing slightly with frustration. "What bothers me the most is that we haven't found any clues of importance." He folded his arms, the muscles in his arms tense beneath his sleeves. "Every time we search for answers, it's like we're chasing shadows. No evidence, no trails to follow. It's like whoever's behind this is covering their tracks perfectly." Sidgroth's voice dropped to a low murmur, "and that's what makes it so damn frustrating."
A silence settled between them. The only sound that filled the air was the distant hum of the town.
Soon after, the doors of the restaurant opened, and out stepped the White Crusader, but it wasn't just the White Crusader that caught Sidgroth's attention. Walking beside him was a girl with distinct features, her hime cut blonde hair was slightly tousled as if it had been carelessly swept by the wind. She wore an oversized white sweater that hung loosely over her body, the fabric flowing gently as she moved. Beneath the sweater, a plain black shirt peeked out. Her crimson eyes, sharp and intense, seemed almost unnervingly perceptive as they scanned the surroundings. As she walked next to the White Crusader, there was an unclear connection between them.
"Isn't that Vaos' student?" Sidgroth thought to himself, his eyes narrowing slightly as he observed the girl more closely. "This might be more important than I thought," he muttered under his breath.
"Maxwell, I want you to keep a close eye on them," Sidgroth said, his voice low and serious. "Looks like this isn't just a pass-by visit."
"Very well," Maxwell replied. "Let's go, Gladiolus." At Sidgroth's order, Maxwell turned and swiftly moved away, Gladiolus following closely at his side.
The thought lingered in Maxwell's mind, why was the White Crusader here in Calla Lily? His presence, so sudden and unexpected, felt out of place. Maxwell had heard of the White Crusader's status and the stories surrounding his actions during the void war, but he never imagined that one day, he'd be in the same town as him.
The more he thought about it, the more questions filled his mind. Was his visit tied to the recent disappearances? Or was there something else going on beneath the surface?
Maxwell couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to take a turn, and that whatever was coming, it wouldn't be easy to face...