Nick stirred, the heavy fog of sleep clinging to his mind like cobwebs. The bed beneath him felt real enough, the worn mattress pressing into his back, yet the memory of Evelyn’s Twilight Garden lingered—vivid and unshakable. He rubbed his temples, trying to dispel the echoes of her voice.
“Judge the world…” he muttered to the empty room.
He sat up slowly, the faint creak of the bed frame punctuating the silence. The light filtering through the small window was pale and soft, signaling the afternoon’s waning hours. His boots sat where he’d kicked them off, but the eerie sensation of the cobblestones in her garden still lingered against his feet.
Her words repeated in his head, sharp and unrelenting: “Every choice you make sends ripples through this world, whether you like it or not.”
He scoffed. “She’s better at gaslighting than the ol’ man.”
His chest tightened at the thought. For all her arrogance and condescension, Evelyn hadn’t lied—not about the world, not about the people in it, and certainly not him. He could almost hear the ol’ man’s voice, full of gruff indifference—this world wasn’t his responsibility, but he couldn’t ignore people who were suffering right in front of him.
Nick leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Just become stronger,” he told himself. “That’s all I need to do.” Yet the words rang hollow, even to him.
When he was reborn in this world, he was given power. He hadn’t figured out how to unlock his god-related skills yet, though he honestly hadn’t been trying all that hard. On his very first day here, he’d decided to gain power that surpassed all reason. He wanted control over his fate, over the lives he cared about, over the forces that had taken everything from him before.
That control would only come with strength.
He clenched his fists, the familiar tension running through his forearms like a fire reigniting within him. “Power isn’t just about making sure no one can take from you—it’s about reclaiming what’s already been stolen. And maybe…” He paused. “Maybe it’s about making sure the ones who take never get the chance again. If that means breaking their hands, so be it.” The words weren’t directed at anyone in particular, but they were strangely grounding.
He exhaled sharply, the tension in his fists refusing to abate.
If power was the answer, then he’d make damn sure that it was the answer to everything.
By the time he’d pulled on his boots and gathered himself, the faint hum of life from the tavern below had grown louder. Ray was probably downstairs, eager as ever to get moving. She didn’t know about Evelyn or his visits to her timeless garden. And maybe that was for the best.
As he descended the stairs, familiar sounds welcomed him back to reality—the clatter of dishes, the low murmur of conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter. It was a far cry from the oppressive stillness of the garden.
Spotting Ray at their usual corner table, Nick forced a faint smile and pushed Evelyn’s words to the back of his mind. For now, he’d focus on what was in front of him. He didn’t need to be a judge today. His job at the moment was to be a mentor and a friend.
“Ready to head out?” he asked as he approached the table.
Ray looked up from the plate of leftover bread she’d been picking at, her mismatched eyes brightening with excitement. “Took you long enough. Let’s go kill something.”
Nick smirked. “Straight to the point, eh?”
“Always.” She stood, slinging her halberd over her shoulder. “We didn’t take the evaluation just to sleep and sit around. Let’s go see if there are any good missions.”
As they stepped out into the bustling streets of Cairel, the midday sun cast a golden glow over the cobblestone paths, and the chatter of merchants and townsfolk filled the air. The city felt alive. Ray walked slightly ahead, her halberd balanced effortlessly on her shoulder, her steps practically bouncing with energy.
The Adventurer’s Guild loomed ahead, its familiar wooden sign creaking slightly in the breeze. The large double doors swung open to admit a boisterous group of adventurers, their voices a mix of laughter and animated debate. Nick and Ray slipped inside, the cool interior a welcome reprieve from the sun.
The guild hall was as lively as ever. Adventurers crowded around quest boards, swapping stories over drinks, or haggling with merchants over supplies. The faint scent of ink and leather mingled with the sharper tang of sweat and metal.
Nick scanned the room, taking in the familiar layout. The reception desk stood at the far end, a line of adventurers waiting for their turn to speak with the guild attendants.
“Busy day,” he muttered.
Ray grinned. “Perfect. The more people, the more fun.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “Fun?”
“You know—showing them why we’re not just another pair of rookies. After what we did during the evaluation, we’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
He snorted. “You mean a reputation to survive. Let’s grab a quest before you start challenging random people to duels.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” she muttered with feigned indignation.
“Yes, you would.”
“Yes, I would,” she admitted. She stuck her tongue out at him before quickly heading toward the quest boards with a determined stride.
“What a brat…” Nick muttered fondly while following behind her.
As they approached the boards, the low murmur of conversation shifted subtly. Heads turned, some adventurers whispering as they noticed the pair. Nick felt the weight of their gazes but ignored it, focusing instead on the array of quests pinned to the boards.
“See anything good?” Ray asked, scanning the listings.
“Guard duty, pest control…” Nick trailed off, frowning. “Standard G-rank stuff.”
Ray wrinkled her nose. “We’re F-rank now. Shouldn’t we get something more exciting than shoveling poo?”
“Definitely,” Nick agreed. “Let’s take a look at the—”
“Nick and Ray, right?”
A voice interrupted them, smooth and casual. They turned to see a young man leaning against a nearby table, his leather armor pristine and his longsword polished to a mirror shine. His grin was wide and easy, though his eyes were sharp with curiosity.
“You two are the talk of the guild,” he continued. “Beating a C-ranker in your evaluation? That’s not something you see every day.”
Nick shrugged, his expression neutral. “We got lucky.”
“Luck doesn’t beat C-rankers,” the man replied, his grin widening. “Name’s Marcus. My party’s looking to fill a couple of spots, and I thought you might be interested.”
Ray opened her mouth, but Nick spoke first. “Appreciate the offer, but we’re good for now.”
Marcus’s grin faltered slightly, though he recovered quickly. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind…” He tapped the table. “We’re always open to talent.”
As he walked away, Ray gave Nick a sideways glance. “You didn’t even think about it.”
“We’re better off on our own,” he replied simply, turning back to the board.
Before Ray could respond, the guild hall fell into an unusual hush. The heavy oak doors of the Adventurer’s Guild swung open with a weighty creak, drawing the room’s collective attention. A man strode in, his steps deliberate and commanding, as though the very air bent to accommodate him.
It was the duke’s son that they had seen in the marketplace a week ago.
‘Jantzen Rovar, was it?’
He was tall and broad-shouldered, his figure made all the more imposing by his sheer bulk. His opulent robes strained against his girth, the fine fabric tailored to fit him perfectly, yet unable to mask the sheer vastness of his frame.
His belly pressed against the intricate leather that held his sword, and his steps carried a faint heaviness that would have seemed cumbersome on anyone else. Yet, somehow, Jantzen carried himself with a confidence so absolute that it bordered on arrogance. His perfectly styled blond hair gleamed in the guild’s flickering lantern light, and his self-satisfied smirk conveyed unnerving ease.
There was an undeniable weight to his presence—an aura that commanded the room’s attention. Conversations stalled mid-sentence, and laughter faded to uneasy murmurs as his cold blue eyes scanned the room, assessing who was worth noticing and who was beneath him.
Trailing just behind him was the slave he purchased that day in the market. The young cat beastkin’s movements were silent and deliberate as if she sought to disappear into his shadow. Chains rustled on her wrists, their metallic clink drowned by the oppressive quiet that followed Jantzen’s entrance.
His eyes swept over the gathered adventurers, lingering on some just long enough to make them squirm. Whispers rippled through the hall, hushed and wary, as though no one wanted to draw too much attention to themselves. When his gaze finally landed on Nick and Ray, his smirk widened.
“Well, well,” he said, his voice smooth but dripping with condescension. “The rising stars of the guild. Just the people I was hoping to see.”
Ray’s expression darkened, her gaze lingering on the slave behind him. Nick kept his tone even as he replied, “Can we help you?”
“I’d like to make you an offer. Join my team. If the rumors are true, you have the kind of strength and skills it takes to keep up with me.”
Nick’s instinct was to refuse immediately. Teaming up with a noble was trouble enough, but teaming up with this noble was a recipe for disaster.
But before he could speak, Ray stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. “We’ll do it.”
Nick stiffened, his focus shifting to her in disbelief. She didn’t look at him, her attention locked on Jantzen, and there was something simmering beneath her mismatched eyes—anger, defiance, or maybe just a challenge she couldn’t resist.
“On one condition,” she added. “We take a quest together first. A provisional team. See if we work well together.”
Jantzen chuckled, clearly amused. “Fair enough. Let’s see if your skills live up to the stories.”
Nick clenched his jaw as he exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to keep his temper in check. She shouldn’t have agreed without consulting him—but she had. And now, they were stuck navigating this mess together.
He turned his attention to Jantzen, his mind already shifting gears. If this was the path they were on, then he’d make damn sure it was one he controlled.
“Fine,” he said, his voice measured but firm. “We’ll do this your way, for now. But the quest we pick is going to be one we choose together.” His words were directed at the duke’s son, but they carried a warning for Ray as well.
Jantzen’s smirk didn’t waver. “I’m feeling generous. Pick whatever suits you. It’ll be interesting to see how you work under pressure.”
Ray shot Nick a glance, but he avoided her gaze, already scanning the quest board. The weight of Evelyn’s words still lingered in his mind—if this choice was going to ripple, then this had better be a ripple worth making.
His eyes settled on a mid-tier F-rank mission. “This one,” he said, tapping the parchment. The quest involved clearing out a goblin den on the outskirts of the city—a straightforward job, but one that required teamwork and coordination.
Ray nodded, her expression unreadable, but she didn’t argue. “Works for me.”
Jantzen stepped closer, his large frame casting a shadow over the board as he scanned the quest details. “Goblins? Sure, I guess. I didn’t take you for a daredevil.”
‘A daredevil?’ The way he reacted seemed a bit odd to Nick.
“It’s not about the challenge,” he replied. “It’s about how well we work as a team.”
Jantzen raised an eyebrow. “I don’t entirely disagree if it were most other monsters. But the best way to stamp out goblins is using overwhelming strength. Kill them before they can play any silly tricks.”
Nick met his gaze evenly. “Strength is a given, of course. But when fighting as a team, strength is just the start. I’m only willing to team up with someone who works well with me. The better a team works together, the fewer mistakes we’ll make, and the easier it will be to overcome those that we can’t avoid.”
Jatnzen nodded. “I’ll acknowledge the point.”
Ray, however, seemed unwilling to let the moment slide. She crossed her arms and tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as she regarded Jantzen. “Must be nice,” she said, her tone casual, yet carrying an unmistakable edge. “Having someone else pay the cost for your mistakes, I mean.”
The room grew quieter as several nearby adventurers turned their heads. Even the beastkin slave at Jantzen’s side shifted slightly, her ears twitching as though she were straining to catch every word. She kept her gaze firmly on the ground, but her tail flicked once—a movement so subtle Nick almost missed it.
Jantzen’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before returning, though his eyes darkened. “Careful, girl,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with warning. “You know nothing about me, so don’t you dare judge my actions based on standards that you barely understand.”
Ray shrugged, clearly unbothered. “Noted.”
Nick stepped in before things could escalate further. “We’ve got a quest to focus on,” he said, his tone firm enough to cut through the tension. He turned to Jantzen. “We’ll meet at the east gate tomorrow morning. Be on time.”
The duke’s son shrugged. “I’m always on time. I expect you to be as well.” With that, he turned and walked away, his slave trailing silently behind him.
Ray watched them go, her fists clenched tight enough to draw blood on her palms. “I don’t like him.”
“And you think I do?” Nick shot back, his voice low. “But you’re the one who agreed to this. So now, we’re stuck with him. Let’s make sure this doesn’t explode in our faces.”
She glanced up at him, a hint of guilt in her eyes. “I just… I thought maybe—”
He cut her off gently. “I know what you thought. We’ll figure it out. Just don’t go picking fights we can’t finish.”
She nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Okay.”
Nick sighed, his mind already working through how to handle Jantzen and whatever chaos he was sure to bring. Evelyn’s voice echoed faintly in his thoughts, a cruel reminder of the truth he refused to admit: You see injustice and it burns you, doesn’t it?
“Let’s get ready for tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll make it work.”
As they left the guild hall, the din of conversation resumed behind them, the tension fading into the background, but Nick’s mind refused to settle. Tomorrow wasn’t just a test of strength or skill—it was a gamble.
He glanced at Ray walking beside him, her hands clenching her halberd tightly, the set of her jaw betraying her lingering frustration.
Not only was it going to be a gamble, but he wasn’t entirely sure he understood the stakes.
“We’ll make it work,” he repeated, more to himself than her. If power was the answer to everything, then this was just the next step. Another ripple in an ever-widening current.
And if he didn’t control the direction of the current, then someone else would.
Project Knightfall 