The road to Hinterwood was long, winding through dense forests and uneven terrain. To an ordinary traveler, it would have been a grueling journey.
For Reinhardt, it was nothing.
The weight of his new swords sat comfortably at his sides. Though he still preferred the raw power of a greatsword, he had already adapted to the lighter weapons. His steps were steady, his breathing calm, and his senses sharp.
And yet—the silence still unsettled him.
Even after leaving the site of the attack, the forest remained eerily quiet. He had traveled through countless wildlands in his lifetime, but never had he encountered one that felt so… lifeless.
No birds. No distant howls.
Only the whisper of the wind through the trees.
Something was wrong with this land.
And now, monsters that did not exist in his time roamed freely.
Reinhardt exhaled slowly. He would find his answers soon.
By the time the village came into view, the sun had begun its descent, casting a deep amber glow over the landscape.
Hinterwood was small—no more than a handful of wooden houses, a few scattered farms, and a modest stone watchtower that overlooked the settlement. Smoke curled from chimneys, and oil lanterns flickered to life as night approached.
But what caught Reinhardt's attention was not the village itself.
It was the walls.
Hinterwood, despite its size, was fortified. A wooden palisade surrounded the settlement, reinforced with sharpened stakes and thick iron braces. From the watchtower, guards kept a tense lookout, their hands never straying far from their weapons.
Reinhardt's brow furrowed.
A village like this should not need such defenses.
Not unless it was constantly under threat.
As he approached the gate, two guards stepped forward. Their armor was simple, but well-maintained—iron breastplates over leather tunics. One, a man in his late thirties with a scar over his nose, raised a cautious hand.
"Halt." His voice was firm, but not aggressive. "State your name and business."
Reinhardt stopped just outside the gate. His gaze flickered between the two men, noting their wary stances. They were afraid.
Not of him.
Of something else.
"…A wandering knight," he answered simply. "I seek shelter for the night."
The guards exchanged glances.
"A knight?" the younger one, barely past his twenties, looked Reinhardt up and down. "Haven't seen one of those in years."
Reinhardt said nothing.
After a moment, the older guard sighed. "Fine. You can enter. But keep your weapons sheathed, and don't cause trouble."
Reinhardt nodded.
The gates creaked open, and he stepped inside.
---
A Village Living in Fear
Hinterwood was alive, but barely.
The streets were sparse, with most villagers hurrying from one place to another, keeping their heads down. Some paused to glance at Reinhardt, their gazes filled with curiosity—and something else. Hope.
He ignored the stares and walked toward the tavern, the only stone building in the village besides the watchtower. Its wooden sign, weathered with age, read "The Hollow Boar."
The moment he stepped inside, the scent of spiced ale and roasted meat filled the air. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows over the wooden beams. A handful of patrons sat scattered at tables, their voices hushed.
Reinhardt made his way to the bar. The innkeeper, a stout man with graying hair, looked up from polishing a mug. His eyes flickered to Reinhardt's swords before narrowing.
"Traveler, are you?" the man asked.
Reinhardt nodded.
The innkeeper exhaled through his nose. "Not many of those these days."
Reinhardt took a seat. "Why?"
The man's expression darkened.
"You really don't know?" He glanced around, lowering his voice. "The monsters."
Reinhardt remained silent.
The innkeeper sighed. "They started appearing about ten years ago. First, people thought they were just strange beasts. Then entire villages started vanishing. Crops withered. Roads became dangerous. Now, no one travels unless they have to."
Reinhardt considered this. "And Hinterwood?"
The man grunted. "We're lucky. The baron who oversees this land built the walls years ago. Otherwise, we'd be long dead."
Something in his tone caught Reinhardt's attention. "But the walls aren't enough."
The innkeeper's jaw tightened.
"…No."
A heavy silence settled between them.
Then, Reinhardt asked the question that had lingered in his mind since the moment he was revived.
"What do you know of Velderia?"
The room went silent.
The few patrons in the tavern stopped their conversations, their eyes turning toward him. Some looked puzzled. Others, wary.
The innkeeper frowned deeply.
"…That's an old name," he muttered. "Why are you asking about a dead kingdom?"
Reinhardt met his gaze evenly. "Answer the question."
The innkeeper hesitated, then leaned in slightly. "Velderia fell over three hundred years ago. The empire wiped it out completely."
"I know that." Reinhardt's voice remained steady. "But how do people remember it?"
The innkeeper exhaled, rubbing his temples.
"…As legend," he admitted. "Some call it a lost kingdom, a place of old heroes and forgotten wars. Others say it never existed at all."
Reinhardt's expression did not change, but something deep within him hardened.
His home, his people—reduced to myth.
"…And the knights?" he asked.
The innkeeper hesitated. "What about them?"
"Do people remember them?"
The innkeeper frowned, then gave a slow nod.
"Some stories mention them," he admitted. "The Black Lions of Velderia. Supposedly, they were knights unlike any other. They say a hundred of them could stand against an entire army."
Reinhardt did not speak.
The innkeeper continued, his voice lowering.
"But those are just old tales. No one believes them anymore."
Reinhardt closed his eyes for a brief moment.
Velderia was gone. His king, his comrades—all turned to dust. Even their legacy had faded, warped by time into nothing more than distant folklore.
And yet—he remained.
For what purpose?
That, he still did not know.
But one thing was certain.
The world had forgotten Velderia.
But Reinhardt would not.
And if these monsters were truly something new to this era—then perhaps they, too, held a connection to the mysteries of the past.
For now, he would rest. And then, he would begin his search for answers.
Even if he had to carve through an army of beasts to find them.
---
To Be Continued…