The old man at the stall scowled at Jean in annoyance. He jabbed a finger at the price tag.

  "Can't you read?" he barked.

  Jean, looking worse off than a beggar, stood there without the slightest self-awareness. He glanced at the price tag, his eyes locking onto the number 2. After some thought, he decided the best course of action was to simply shake his head—he couldn't read, after all.

  The stall owner groaned and massaged his face roughly, exasperation etched into every wrinkle.

  "It's two copper coins. Do you have that much money?"

  For a moment, the elf and the old man seemed like the same kind of person in Jean's eyes. Mom said those who are always angry get old faster... they could get sick too, Jean thought absentmindedly.

  In the end, Jean decided it wasn't worth trying to explain. His lack of speech capabilities wouldn't allow for a proper conversation anyway, so he turned and walked away.

  The stall owner watched him leave, feeling strangely liberated now that the boy was gone.

  Jean turned his attention to Rian, debating whether to ask the edgy elf for help. His nine-year-old curiosity got the better of him, and he poked Rian's shoulder.

  The elf, who looked as grumpy as ever, spun around with a sharp glare.

  "What?"

  Jean pointed back toward the stall.

  Rian cut him off before he could even try to explain.

  "No, I'm not buying any of this useless stuff," he said flatly.

  Edgy, indeed. Answering without even knowing the question. Jean blinked, then asked, "What are these? Knives and clothes?"

  Rian's eyes widened in surprise.

  "You don't know?" His disbelief was evident.

  Jean nodded innocently.

  Sighing bitterly, Rian muttered under his breath, "Damn country bumpkin."

  He collected his thoughts before answering.

  "A decade ago, a group of people appeared. They claimed to have come across the great ocean in the east. They called themselves the Nameless Wanderers. Among them was a seer who predicted a great calamity would befall this world.

  And it did."

  Jean's eyes grew wide as he listened intently.

  Rian continued, his tone turning solemn.

  "The damage from the calamity was only contained thanks to them. There were around a thousand of them, and they all dressed in the same style of clothing you see here. Each carried a black knife as a spare weapon, and they wore masks like these during combat."

  The elf's gaze became distant, as if recalling something profound.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  "Their leader was an extraordinary man. He led them through countless battles over months, never losing even once. Not a single one of his soldiers died under his command. People began to call him Unseen Death, and his troops became known as the Unseen Legion.

  That man's name was Aaron Isidor."

  Jean's expression was a mix of awe and curiosity as he absorbed every word.

  Rian's voice softened, almost reverent.

  "Aaron Isidor... he taught nearly everyone a thing or two. He gave out otherworldly artifacts to random people on the streets. Even the Elven Forest received his teachings at some point. He was the one who personally selected the first World Tree Guardian and trained him like one of his own."

  Rian paused, his expression growing more serious.

  "Do you understand now what these clothes and knives mean? It's been the same for years... they're relics of an era that changed the world."

  Jean's eyes sparkled as he looked up at Rian. To him, the elf was no longer just an edgy stranger. He was a sage—an otherworldly sage who seemed to know everything.

  Without holding back, Jean asked, "Can... you read?"

  Rian noticed the look of reverence in Jean's eyes and couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride. Satisfied, he straightened up and replied,

  "Of course. I was thoroughly taught by the best elders in the forest."

  Jean looked inside his bag, pulling out the Book of Nurturing. He handed it to Rian with an innocent expression.

  "Can you read this book for me?" he asked nervously, afraid the elf might turn edgy again.

  Rian took the book with an unimpressed look. He opened the cover to glance at the first page.

  "Hmm... what is this?" he muttered, flipping through a few more pages.

  Suddenly, his expression twisted, and he began rifling through the book like a madman.

  "What is this? You brat—are you pranking me?"

  Jean blinked, confused.

  "What is pranking?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with genuine curiosity.

  Rian's anger flared. He slammed the book hard on the ground.

  "This is a blank book! It doesn't have a single word written in it. Am I a joke to you?"

  Jean's gaze dropped to the book, its pages now open on the ground. He could see the words clearly.

  "There are words here... that one starts with a letter that looks like a snake," he explained, pointing.

  Rian's eyes narrowed dangerously.

  "This book doesn't have a single word. There's nothing! Are you saying the words are unseen to anyone but you? Who do you think you are to mock me?"

  The word Unseen echoed in Jean's mind.

  Unseen... Death.

  Memories of the snake and the abyss resurfaced in his mind. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he began to shiver.

  It was then he finally understood the strange speech he had heard before.

  It belonged to the one they called...

  Unseen Death... Aaron Isidor.

  The elf stomped hard, marching toward their destination across the bustling streets of the city.

  Jean, still frozen, sweating, and shivering, was caught in the images flashing in his mind. He didn't respond to anything around him.

  The girl picked up the Book of Nurturing from the ground without even taking a glance at it. She carefully dusted it off and handed it back to Jean, who still didn't react.

  She then gently tugged at the hem of his worn-out sleeve.

  It was so utterly spent that it tore further at her soft touch.

  She panicked.

  "I'm sorry!"

  Light began to return to Jean's eyes. Slowly, he extended his hand for the book.

  "Thank you," he said softly.

  The two of them continued following the elf, who was now asking around the streets for information.

  The city was alive with diverse people, all wearing distinct styles of clothing. Some dressed in shirts, pants, and classy jackets. Others wore soft, flowing robes. There were even those in clothes resembling the ones Jean carried in his bag.

  Jean wanted to ask about the names of these different styles but decided to hold his curiosity back for now.

  Eventually, they reached an inn.

  The elf, surprisingly, offered to get them new clothes.

  "I can't keep walking around with you two looking..." he paused, his expression darkening briefly before continuing, "like this."

  Jean expected him to say something foul, but to his relief, the elf's tone remained neutral.

  Jean politely declined the offer, explaining that he already had a spare set of clothes.

  The girl, however, had no choice but to accept. With the visible shackle marks on her limbs, she needed something more appropriate.

  He didn't want to completely drain himself attempting to heal her limbs...

  Rian bought her a modest shirt and skirt—not overly expensive but decent enough. As for himself, his elven robes were already in excellent shape.

  At the inn, they washed up, changed into their new clothes, and finally had their first real meal in what felt like an eternity.

  Each of them experienced the moment differently...

  But for the first time, the three of them shared the same feeling—a fleeting sense of peace.