---
Zereth stood outside the guild hall, stretching his hands.
"I have to say, it's been a while since I had some alone time," he mused.
Wandering through the kingdom, he searched for people who could help him build a village back in their forest.
"What's this?" he stumbled across something interesting.
Looking over, he saw what seemed to be a bookstore.
"A library? Maybe they have information about the history of the world or something," he thought.
Zereth entered, and the inside was pretty much normal—just rows of books with tables in the middle.
He went over to the bookshelves, investigating them.
"All magic books and stuff," he whispered.
He came across a section about history. Taking a couple of books, Zereth thought, I've never read books like this before. Will I burn out or finish them?
Sitting down and scanning through the books, he muttered, "Most of these talk about wars," before putting them back.
One particular book caught his eye. Its title read The Knights of the Round Table.
"It can't be," he said.
To his surprise, the book was more detailed than the others he had read before.
"In the year 748, the world was befallen by an unknown phenomenon. Spirals of teleportation appeared in every corner of the world. Researchers came to call this phenomenon 'dimensional rifts.'"
A typical story, Zereth thought.
"Within the gates were monsters unlike any we'd ever encountered—ruthless, unintelligent beings, each far more powerful than your average A-rank adventurer."
Did this happen, or is it just someone's story? Zereth wondered, flipping the page.
"A mage called Herald, who used to be a researcher, studied the rifts. Using the runes, he cast the forbidden hero summoning spell. Within the circle, eleven heroes appeared, each in their teens, the oldest being eighteen. These young heroes were later known as the Knights of the Round Table."
Zereth dropped the book, forgetting where he was.
Step… step… A guard approached him.
"Is everything alright? If there's no problem, then you're disturbing the people."
"Sorr—" Before Zereth could even apologize, the guard had left. Turning his head back to the book, he thought, It can't be the same guys, right? Five years ago? I played with my friends for one and a half year ago , so it can't be…
Zereth went to the librarian.
"Excuse me, just how much of this book is real? If these events happened five years ago, then how is it that there's no sign of destruction left?"
"Hmm, young man," the librarian said, "you can't just ask an old woman so many questions at once. I could barely keep up with you."
"As far as the world is concerned, that information is valid. What happened after is only rumors and things people wish to believe."
"Rumors?" Zereth asked.
"Yes, rumors. Some believe it's the work of the goddess, while others think the rifts were mere projections, only visible to certain people."
The revelations didn't sit right with Zereth, but he knew things like this could happen.
"And the heroes?" he asked. "What happened to them?"
"Hmm, it's been five years. The world is at peace—or maybe to some extent. The heroes are nowhere to be seen."
"Hiding?" Zereth thought. But they don't have a reason to.
"Thank you," he said, leaving the place.
Digesting the news he had just received, Zereth looked into the distance and saw what looked like a craftsman's workshop.
"I should go check it out," he thought. After all, the main purpose of coming here is to find someone to help us.
---
Upon entering the place, Zereth looked around, his eyes darting across the room.
"I can see fire all the way from here," he thought. "The person inside must be burning."
The sound of a hammer hitting metal rang throughout the workshop. Must be in there, Zereth thought, heading inside.
"What do you want, kid?" the man asked, not stopping for even a second.
Zereth was a little astonished. A dwarf, he wanted to say out loud.
"I'm looking for a craftsman," he said.
"Tch," the man replied. "Are you blind? Can't you see I'm busy?"
What's his issue? Zereth thought. Maybe he's just like that because I'm interrupting him.
One more reason why I used to avoid people.
Standing there, Zereth awaited a reply from the man.
Step… step… step.
Three young men walked into the room, their faces dull, as if they'd never known happiness. Did I do something? Zereth asked himself.
"You damned brats!" The man stopped and yelled, "At this pace, I'll never be done! I need those magi crystals!"
Zereth stood silent, looking at the three figures.
One of the young men—a little on the handsome side, Zereth thought—,
"There are no magi crystals, Master."
"What do you mean?" the man barked, continuing to smack the steel. "Why don't you guys go mine them?"
The brothers' faces changed.
"What's with those faces?" the man replied. "You lot just do nothing but eat off my work, so this is only fair, isn't it?"
The man is guilt-tripping them, Zereth thought. I hate people like that. What are they, his slaves? They have the right to live their lives how they want.
"Master, we can't go to the mine. You know very well that there are magical beasts there," one of the brothers protested.
"So what?" the man said. "A couple of magical beasts can't stop me from working. Get on with it."
None of the boys tried to rebel. One gritted his teeth.
"If we go there, set us free," the boy said.
"Set you free? If you come back with enough magi crystals, then I shall set you free," the man replied with a smirk.
He has no intention of releasing them, Zereth thought.
Looking at the boys, he could tell they weren't fighters. They didn't even radiate any type of aura.
"Allow me to help," he said with a smile.
"Listen, kid, we're old enough to handle our problems by ourselves," one of the guys said, touching Zereth's shoulder.
Brownish hair, hands so tough. Is he overworking himself? Zereth wondered.
Zereth looked at the other guy, who didn't seem to be much of a talker. My kind of guy, he mused.
The brothers left. Zereth turned to the old man.
"You don't plan to free them, do you?"
The sound of hammer striking steel was all that answered him.
"Tell me about them then," Zereth replied.
"Ah," the man sighed. "Why do you involve yourself in other people's business, kid? Are you thinking you're some sort of hero?"
Shaking his head, Zereth replied, "No, I don't think of myself as a hero. It's just that I see injustice, and I can't help but intervene."
The man stopped, turned, and looked at Zereth. "Injustice? Those lot owe me a lot. If their work was any good, I would work them to death. So leave me alone."
"Tsk," Zereth hissed but left the place. Looking left and right, he couldn't tell where the boys had gone.
"I can't leave here without a craftsman," he muttered. "The brothers will go to the mine—that's where they went."
---
(The Brothers' POV)
The sun was already setting. The brothers knew next to nothing about camping.
"Let's gather some wood," one of the brothers said.
Shaking from the cold, the black-haired brother, usually known for not speaking, replied, "We should head back."
Patting him on the shoulder, the elder brother Zain replied, "This might be our first time, but we'll gain a lot from it."
"Do you guys even know how to make a fire?" Shawn asked.
"Ha ha," Zain laughed it off. "We'll use your yellow hair to light it up." The brothers burst into laughter.
I'm glad I cheered them up, Zain thought.
Night had fallen. The brothers sat next to their makeshift fire. It wasn't strong, but it wasn't weak either.
"Man… this… cold," Juan said.
"Ha ha ha," Zain laughed. "You know, since we came here, you've been speaking quite a lot."
Blushing a little, Juan looked at them and replied, "That's mainly because I hate the old man."
"Who doesn't?" Zain replied. "But if it weren't for him, we'd be dead."
Standing up from the log, Juan replied, "Saving us doesn't mean we become his slaves. Yeah, I'm grateful for him and all, but this is just too much."
"Relax, Juan," Shawn said, poking at the fire. "We'll be free after this, so no need to vent out on Zain."
"Don't be ridiculous," Juan snapped. "Don't tell me you buy what that old fool said. Free? Us? That's not happening—not anytime soon."
Looking at them, Zain knew from the beginning that the old man was never going to release them.
"There once was a time when we were happy to be under his care. We worked hard to impress the guy. But now, he's changed. I don't think he'd even let us use our skills," Zain said, looking at the two.
"We are brothers. You're the only people I have, so let's not fight," he said.
The two, realizing their argument was getting heated, decided to laugh it off.
Howling . The sound of a wolf echoed not far from them.
Picking up logs from the fire, the brothers decided to move forward, continuing their journey.