Inside a rundown wooden house in the middle of a dense forest, everything smelled faintly of moss and smoke.

The walls were made of rough, uneven planks, patched in places with mismatched boards and nailed-on bark. A crooked window let in thin slivers of sunlight, its glass cracked and clouded.

The roof creaked whenever the wind blew, and the floor was so old and worn that some of the boards bent and squeaked under the slightest pressure. Cobwebs clung to the corners of the ceiling, and a crude stone fireplace sat on one side, long gone cold.

On the floor, a black-haired boy lay quietly on a thin blanket.

His breathing was slow and stable, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Sweat marred his entire body, dampening his clothes and making his dark hair stick to his forehead.

Despite the exhaustion etched into his features, his face was unmistakably handsome—a sharp jawline, a straight nose, and long lashes resting against pale skin. His black hair framed his face in loose, messy strands, giving him a strangely fragile look.

Hovering above him was a small fairy.

She had bright green hair that shimmered like fresh leaves and translucent wings that fluttered rapidly, leaving trails of faint light with every movement.

Her tiny hands clasped together as she circled Arthur several times before finally landing and sitting cross-legged on his head as though it were a cushion.

The boy had been lying in the same state for ten days.

The fairy tilted her head, looking down at his face with innocent, curious eyes. For someone who had such powerful comrades he was lying done there half-dead, he looked very normal now.

Too normal.

’What happened to you...?’ the fairy wondered. ’Why aren’t you waking up? Did you break?’

Just as she thought that—

Arthur’s eyes snapped open.

He sucked in a sharp breath and bolted upright, shock flashing across his face as instinct dragged him out of unconsciousness.

The sudden movement sent the fairy flying.

"Kyah!" she squeaked, wings flaring as she spun through the air.

On reflex, Arthur’s hand shot up.

He grabbed her.

His fingers closed around her tiny body, pinning her wings.

"What the hell—" Arthur muttered. "A mosquito?"

The fairy’s mouth twitched.

"Let go of me, you brute!" she shouted, her voice surprisingly loud for someone so small.

She wriggled furiously against his grip.

Then she took a deep breath and screamed, "Erica! Come down here now! This brute woke up and is trying to sexually harass me!"

A vein pulsed on Arthur’s forehead.

’What did she just say...?’ he thought.

"So it’s a talking mosquito, huh?" Arthur said dryly.

The fairy’s face turned red with outrage.

"You low life-form!" she yelled. "Let go of me! And I’m not a mosquito—I’m a fairy! Can’t you see the wings on my back?!"

She tossed her hair smugly despite being trapped.

"And this beautiful appearance of mine?" she added.

Arthur’s stomach answered for him.

It growled loudly.

He paused and finally looked around the house properly—old wooden walls, a patched roof, simple shelves, a few wooden stools, and a lopsided table. No food was in sight.

"Where the hell am I...?" Arthur muttered.

His stomach growled again, louder.

His eyes slid back to the struggling fairy in his hand. A dangerous smile crept onto his lips.

"I wonder," Arthur said thoughtfully, "if you’d taste good deep-fried."

The fairy’s expression froze.

Her eyes widened with horror, and tears immediately welled up.

"Waaaah!" she wailed, wings flapping frantically. "Please, please don’t eat me! Erica, where the hell are you?! I’m going to become this brute’s food!"

Arthur sighed.

"Relax," Arthur said. "Stop crying. I was joking. Just tell me where I am right now."

But the fairy kept sobbing without even listening.

"You’d get indigestion if you ate me!" she cried. "I’m delicate!"

Arthur’s face twitched.

’Now I really want to cook her...,’ he thought.

Before he could decide whether to threaten her again, the door to the house burst open.

Wood slammed against the wall.

An elf stepped inside.

She was a young woman with long, flowing white hair and clear blue eyes that resembled the surface of a calm lake. A small moon-shaped hairpin rested near her temple, holding a portion of her hair back. Her figure was slender and graceful, her movements light even as she rushed forward.

Her aura washed over Arthur—refined, peaceful, yet undeniably powerful.

She would have looked dignified and ethereal if not for her clothes: simple, patched garments that were torn in several places, clearly borrowed or recycled. They didn’t match her elegant features at all, making her look like a noble forced into peasant rags.

"Luna, what happened? Are you alright?" the elf girl shouted.

Her eyes focused on the fairy trapped in Arthur’s hand.

Her gaze instantly turned cold.

"What are you doing to my Luna?" she demanded.

Arthur instinctively opened his fingers.

The fairy shot out of his grip like an arrow, tears still clinging to her lashes, and zoomed straight to the elf’s shoulder. She buried herself against the girl’s neck.

"He tried to eat me, Erica!" the fairy sobbed. "He called me a mosquito and said he’d deep-fry me!"

The elf—Erica—looked at Arthur.

"Is that true?" she asked, her voice flat.

Arthur lifted his hands.

"Let me explain—"

Before he could, two more figures entered through the door.

One was a pink-haired woman, her long hair soft and shining, her beautiful gray eyes sharp even in this quiet setting. She wore simple, clean clothes now—a loose shirt and comfortable pants—completely different from the blood-soaked outfit Arthur remembered her in. The last time he’d seen her, she had been covered in wounds and missing an arm.

Yuna.

The other was Elizabeth, with crimson hair cascading down her back and crimson eyes half-lidded with amusement. Her figure was as striking as ever, the robe she wore fitting her curves perfectly now that all her limiters were gone.

The moment Arthur saw Yuna, his face lit up.

"Master," Arthur said, pushing himself to his feet despite his weakness, relief softening his features. The potion had done its job—she looked completely healthy, without a trace of her previous injuries.

Yuna’s gray eyes widened slightly.

Then she ran toward him.

Arthur opened his arms for a hug.

A punch met his face instead.

Her fist slammed straight into his cheek.

BAM.

Arthur flew backward, crashing through the already worn wall of the house. Rotten wood shattered, sending dust flying everywhere. He punched through the flimsy outer wall and landed outside with a heavy thud.

"Ah! My poor house!" Erica cried, her eyes nearly filling with tears as she saw the new hole.

Luna patted her chest with tiny hands.

"Don’t worry, Erica. That brute deserved it."

Elizabeth burst into laughter, doubling over and wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

Outside, Arthur winced and pushed himself up, rubbing his face.

"Still hits like a gorilla..." he muttered.

He looked at Yuna as she stepped through the hole in the wall after him.

"I’m glad to see you’re okay too, Master," Arthur said honestly.

This time, Yuna didn’t punch him.

She ran forward and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

Her chin rested on his shoulder, her voice low and trembling slightly.

"You idiot," Yuna said. "How many times have I told you... in situations like that, always think about yourself first."

Her fingers clenched the back of his shirt.

"And now you’ve gotten yourself into a world of trouble because of me," she whispered.

Tears glimmered in her eyes as she leaned back just enough to look at him.

"I’m sorry," Yuna said softly. "You had to go through so much... and I wasn’t there for you."

Arthur’s expression turned serious for a moment.

"What are you even talking about?" Arthur said. "First of all, it was because of me that you got dragged into all of this. Second... do you really think I could just leave you to die and live with myself afterward?"

He met her eyes.

"Would you have left me to die if you were in my position?" Arthur asked.

Yuna’s face went blank.

"Yes," Yuna said calmly. "I would have left you there to die. So never do that again."

She crossed her arms, her tone turning colder.

"I didn’t need your help," Yuna added. "If things had gotten worse, I would have taken that bastard Lucas down with me."

Arthur opened his mouth to reply.

"Ahem."

Erica coughed loudly from the hole in the wall.

Yuna immediately stepped back from Arthur, her expression snapping back into strict instructor mode.

"I’m glad you two got your emotional reunion, Miss Yuna," Erica said, her arms crossed. "But you’ll have to pay for the damages."

Yuna’s lips curved into a small smile.

"Don’t worry," Yuna said.

She jerked a thumb toward Arthur.

"This guy here will buy you a giant villa as thanks for helping us all this time," Yuna said cheerfully. "You can even pick whichever one you want and name it yourself."

Erica’s eyes sparkled.

Luna’s jaw dropped, and then she tackled Erica’s chest in a hug.

"Erica!" Luna cried. "We won’t have to worry about leaks or cold water anymore!"

Tears of joy gathered in her eyes.

On the other hand, Arthur stood there with his mouth hanging open.

"A villa, Master?" Arthur said weakly. "Isn’t that a bit much? I can tell she must have helped us, but really... a damn villa?"

Elizabeth spoke up before Yuna could answer.

"Even a villa would be small compensation for what she’s done for you, you ungrateful bas—"

Elizabeth stopped herself just in time and coughed.

"I mean, Master."

She flicked a strand of crimson hair over her shoulder.

"Without her, you would have croaked long ago," Elizabeth continued. "When you were unconscious, she helped us avoid getting caught by an elven army for trespassing in their territory."

She nodded toward Erica.

"She also helped treat you," Elizabeth went on. "Because of what you did, your soul was damaged. None of us knew how to fix it. She was the one who healed it—with a method none of us had even heard of."

Arthur swallowed hard.

’It was that bad...?’ he thought. ’I’m never doing that again. Jumping ranks without a proper foundation is insane. The toll on both the body and soul is too much.’

He let out a long sigh.

"Alright, alright," Arthur said. "A villa it is. Whichever one you want."

He folded his arms.

"But first," Arthur added, "tell us where the hell we are and what’s going on."

Erica and Luna were still practically glowing with happiness.

"This is Elvania," Erica said, straightening up proudly. "A kingdom ruled by elves."

She placed a hand on her chest.

"My name is Erica Lysindra Lunaris," she said. "Just call me Erica. Right now, we’re in the Enchanted Forest, where fairies and magical beasts live."

Arthur’s eyes narrowed slightly.

’Erica Lysindra Lunaris... I’ve heard that name before,’ he thought. ’In the game, she was a dead event character. So why is she still alive here...?’

He was about to ask something when his stomach growled again.

Loudly.

"Can I get something to eat?" Arthur asked. "I’m hungry as hell."

"Of course," Erica said. "If you’re buying us a house, I’ll give you a feast."

With that, she turned and hurried out through the broken doorway, Luna fluttering after her, chattering excitedly about menus and desserts.

The house quieted once more.

Yuna’s expression grew serious.

"Arthur," Yuna said, "what are you going to do about that?"

She pointed toward the simple wooden table in the corner.

On it lay a ring—the same ring in which Adrian Evan Imperius was trapped.

Even at rest, it gave off an ominous aura—a dark, suffocating pressure that made the air around it feel heavier. The wood beneath it was slightly charred, as though the ring itself were slowly burning into the world.

Arthur’s gaze hardened as he stared at it.

Inside that small piece of metal was the patriarch of the Imperius family.

And an entire storm waiting to be unleashed.