This world is never truly safe.

  Not for those on the front lines.

  Not for children, either.

  Williams had seen too many ways for someone to die.

  He stood first.

  “We have to go.”

  The decision was already made.

  For a few seconds, no one moved.

  Alice just watched from where she sat, not fully understanding what was happening.

  Kael remained seated, his gaze fixed on the cup in his hands, though it seemed he wasn’t really seeing it.

  “…I’ll see you out,” he finally said.

  Williams didn’t answer. He just gave a faint nod.

  Wetra had already stepped toward the door.

  Footsteps echoed from the bathroom.

  Graham emerged, drying his face with a small towel. He paused, sensing the change in the room.

  No one spoke.

  He glanced at his uncle, then at Williams.

  Something in the air felt colder than before.

  Still, he didn’t ask.

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  Wetra opened the door. A gentle breeze drifted in.

  Williams stepped out first.

  Kael followed to the doorway.

  Williams paused briefly.

  “No need to look so tense,” he said flatly.

  “Take care of yourself, Kael.”

  He didn’t look back.

  “You too.”

  “Get well soon, Sir Kael,” said Wetra calmly.

  Kael nodded slightly.

  The wooden door remained open as Williams walked away.

  His black horse waited beneath the shade of a tree, the reins loosely tied to a low branch.

  Wetra was already at the horse’s side.

  Without a word, Williams released the reins and swung into the saddle with a smooth motion.

  The leather creaked softly.

  Williams gripped the reins and nudged the horse forward.

  The two horses made their way along the narrow dirt path.

  Dry leaves rustled under their hooves.

  The small house slowly disappeared behind them, hidden among the trees.

  Kael stayed at the doorway.

  He didn’t call out.

  He didn’t wave.

  He just watched until their silhouettes vanished into the forest.

  Then he turned and quietly closed the door.

  Graham stood in the center of the room.

  “What happened, Uncle?”

  Kael paused.

  “It’s nothing,” he finally said.

  “You and Alice just focus on your training.”

  Graham didn’t respond immediately.

  Alice stayed put, watching.

  Kael retreated to the inner room without another word.

  A little while later, Alice stood.

  “Nee, Graham… let’s go to the river,” she said softly.

  Graham looked at her.

  “Now?”

  Alice nodded.

  “We can train later.”

  She grabbed her thin scarf.

  Graham hesitated briefly, then shrugged.

  “All right.”

  Soon, the sound of their footsteps faded away from the house.

  The river was close.

  Its water was clear, flowing gently between large stones.

  Alice sat at the edge, dipping her toes in.

  “Cold,” she murmured.

  Graham tossed a small stone onto the water. Ripples spread slowly.

  For a while, they didn’t speak about training.

  Nor did they mention Oblivion.

  Just the sound of the flowing water.

  Graham crouched by the riverbank, staring at the calm surface.

  His reflection appeared clearly.

  But for a moment, it looked… strange.

  He flinched slightly.

  Alice turned quickly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Graham didn’t answer at once. He looked again at the water.

  The ripples subsided.

  The reflection returned to normal—just his own face, with sunlight glinting faintly across it.

  He stood slowly.

  “It’s nothing,” he said quietly.

  Alice watched him for a moment, seeming to want to ask more, but held back.

  The river flowed as usual.

  Far away, the sound of hooves broke the quiet of the dirt path.

  Wetra stared ahead, his mind spinning… "Why would the commander suddenly give them a chance? Nothing has ever come easy in the selection…"

  He matched his horse’s pace, then asked softly,

  “Why give them the chance?”

  Williams didn’t answer. The wind carried the scent of dry earth.

  “You’ve always been strict in your selections.”

  Silence fell—only the sound of hooves remained.

  Williams gripped the reins a little tighter.

  “I don’t know… maybe it was the intuition of an old man.”

  Wetra glanced briefly—not in doubt, but just to make sure.

  “Does the commander intend… to accept them outright?”

  Williams shook his head slowly.

  “No.”

  The wind blew again.

  “No one is accepted without selection. Not even nobles.”

  Wetra stayed silent. He didn’t ask again.

  The sound of hooves became the only noise along the road stretching north.

  In the distance, the hill stood quiet.

  Terukh Hill was never truly empty.