?Zaek rapped his knuckles on the heavy oak door—three slow, deliberate knocks that echoed like a challenge.

  ?“Come in.”

  ?He pushed it open, and the stench hit him first. The sharp bite of cheap wine hung in the air like stagnant smoke. Zaek wrinkled his nose.

  ?“Ugh. Smells like a tavern in here,” he muttered, stepping inside.

  ?Sylas sat hunched over a broad mahogany table, a bottle loosely gripped in one hand. The shadows of the room seemed to cling to him. His silver hair, usually sharp as steel, hung loose and messy, framing a face carved deep with exhaustion.

  ?“So, you dared to show your face,” Sylas rasped. His voice was thick with alcohol, but his eyes were still sharp. “I thought you would’ve run away after kicking my granddaughter across the yard. I heard she blacked out. Ever heard of holding back?”

  ?Zaek shrugged, closing the door with a soft thud. He leaned against the wall, arms folded.

  ?“Couldn’t be helped. The kid jumped in at the wrong time. No... actually, it was the perfect time. Could’ve been worse.”

  ?“Could’ve been worse?” Sylas snorted. “And you call yourself a hero.”

  ?He took a long pull from the bottle, the liquid sloshing loudly in the quiet room. “Just retire already, you old fool.”

  ?Zaek’s grin was faint but sharp. “Maybe in your dreams, old man.”

  ?“Hmph.” Sylas set the bottle down hard.

  ?Zaek pushed off the wall and walked closer. “So, what’s the real reason you dragged me here? Surely not just to cry over spilled wine.”

  ?“I just got my answer. I wanted to ask if you were going to retire,” Sylas said flatly. “If you were... I wanted you to join us.”

  ?Zaek blinked. “Join you? As what? A drinking partner?”

  ?“Not as a teacher. As a sword. A one-man army under the Viremont banner.”

  ?Zaek’s laugh was quiet, dry like rust. “And why would you want that?”

  ?“The same reason I wanted a hero in the first place.” Sylas leaned forward, his green eyes glinting with a fierce, desperate light. “Trust.”

  ?Zaek tilted his head, amused. “Your daughter said the same thing. What’s with this obsession?”

  ?“It’s not an obsession. It’s a necessity.”

  ?Sylas’s fingers curled around the bottle, knuckles turning white.

  ?“People have lost their faith in us, Zaek. They don’t trust nobles anymore. Hell, they don’t even trust the Crown. But if I can bring that back—if I can make them believe in something again—I can raise this family from the ashes.”

  ?Zaek’s grin faded. His voice dropped low. “And you think you can do that with me? With a name that’s been collecting dust in history books?”

  ?“I don’t need your name,” Sylas snapped. “I need what you stand for.”

  ?Zaek chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “People didn’t just lose faith in you, old man. They lost faith in heroes a long time ago.”

  ?“They lost it because there was no reason for you to show up,” Sylas shot back. “No great threat. No great war. The last time they believed... was when you killed that High Demon.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  ?Zaek’s eyes darkened.

  ?High Demon.

  ?A massive, dark silhouette flickered in his memory. Screams. Fire. Ash.

  ?Sylas’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

  ?“That was the last time the world felt fear. And I’m telling you, Zaek... it’s coming back. The Giants will rise again.”

  ?The air in the room grew heavy.

  ?“When they do,” Sylas continued, “I need someone people will follow without question. A hero who fights under the name Viremont. For this land... for this family.”

  ?Zaek stood silent for a long beat. The firelight cast dancing shadows across his scarred face.

  ?Then, slowly, he shook his head.

  ?“I get it. But you’re barking up the wrong tree. I won’t retire. And I won’t wear another crest on my chest. I can’t do it.”

  ?“Because of him?” Sylas asked quietly.

  ?Zaek’s jaw tightened. “...Because of him.”

  ?“Tch. I figured as much.” Sylas sank back into his chair with a sigh, tipping the bottle to his lips again.

  ?Zaek exhaled slowly, the tension leaving his shoulders. “If I’m still alive when that storm hits, I’ll help. That’s all I can promise.”

  ?“Hmph. Don’t expect thanks.”

  ?They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the soft clink of glass against wood.

  ?“You weren’t always like this,” Zaek said finally, his voice softer. “You didn’t drink this much. What happened to you, Sylas?”

  ?Sylas let out a humorless chuckle. “Age. That’s all.”

  ?Zaek’s gaze hardened. He took a step closer. “Is this because of Ellyssia?”

  ?The bottle froze halfway to Sylas’s lips.

  ?“Or is this because of your—”

  ?Schwing.

  ?Steel hissed.

  ?In a movement far too fast for a drunkard, Sylas’s sword flashed out. The tip stopped an inch from Zaek’s throat.

  ?Sylas’s hand was steady. His eyes were cold, sober, and deadly.

  ?“Don’t try me, Zaek,” he whispered, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. “I won’t let you dig where you don’t belong.”

  ?Zaek didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. His smirk returned—slow, razor-thin, and dangerous.

  ?“And you think you can win?”

  ?“I’ll make sure you don’t leave this house alive if you push me.”

  ?For a second, the two legends stared at each other. The air crackled with killing intent.

  ?Then, Zaek exhaled and raised his hands in mock surrender.

  ?“...That’s the Sylas I remember.” He stepped back. “Relax. I have no interest in politics, and I’m not digging for secrets. Just talking as an old friend.”

  ?“I don’t dig up your skeletons,” Sylas growled, sheathing his blade with a sharp click.

  ?“Fair enough.” Zaek pulled out a chair and sat down uninvited. “Apologies, old man.”

  ?Sylas grunted, slumping back into his exhaustion. He took another swig.

  ?The silence stretched, comfortable this time, until Sylas broke it himself.

  ?“You know... Sometimes I think I’m chasing a ghost. Dragging people on my back and failing them halfway up the mountain.”

  ?“From where I’m standing, you haven’t failed anyone yet.”

  ?“You wouldn’t understand.” Sylas’s voice was hollow. “You don’t have a family. These kids... my people... they’re still looking at me for answers I don’t have.”

  ?Zaek stayed silent. Yeah. ‘Family’ isn’t something I can understand.

  ?He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  ?“So... your granddaughter,” he said, changing the subject. “What’s her story?”

  ?“What do you mean?”

  ?“I watched her train today. It felt like she was holding back. Not on purpose—it’s like her body can’t keep up with something inside her.”

  ?“If that’s your excuse for kicking a child—”

  ?“No.” Zaek’s tone sharpened. “I’ve been a hero for forty years. I’ve never seen anyone like her.”

  ?Sylas scoffed. “Because of her mana? Sure, it’s massive. But I’m sure there are freaks out there with more.”

  ?“It’s not just the mana.” Zaek’s eyes narrowed. “It’s something else. Something I can’t put into words yet.”

  ?“...If you don’t know, I sure as hell don’t.” Sylas shoved the bottle toward him across the table. “Drink?”

  ?Zaek looked at the cheap wine with disdain. “I don’t drink with fossils.”

  ?“My mistake. Young gentleman—take it before I kick you out.”

  ?“Fine, fine.” Zaek snatched the bottle and took a swig. He immediately pulled a face. “Phew. That’s awful. Is this vinegar?”

  ?“It’s not for pleasure. It’s for forgetting.” Sylas chuckled bitterly.

  ?Zaek wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “So... what now?”

  ?Sylas’s lips twitched. “What now? You tell me. You’re the one trespassing in my room.”

  ?Zaek tilted his head, his grin returning. “...Maybe I’ll stick around. Give it a go. Teaching, I mean.”

  ?Sylas raised an eyebrow. “You will?”

  ?“Better than becoming the King’s lapdog.”

  ?“You know ignoring the King is treason, right?”

  ?Zaek smirked, glancing at the door. “Lucky for me, the man sitting across from me just confessed to about a dozen crimes. I think my secret is safe.”

  ?“...Bastard,” Sylas muttered.

  ?Zaek burst out laughing.

  ?When the laughter died down, Sylas leaned in, his eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and calculation.

  ?“So, old friend. Anything to share? About the capital?”

  ?Zaek chuckled, swirling the bad wine in the bottle.

  ?“So that was your real goal all along. You sly fox. Let’s see...”