chapter 3.5

The late afternoon chill seeped into Oldman's cramped quarters, the dim orange glow of the descending sun filtering through the small wooden window, casting elongated shadows that crept slowly along the walls. Inside, the room bore the weight of years of burden—a worn wooden desk, cluttered with faded maps, aging reports, and a quill with brittle edges, all remnants of countless discussions that shaped destinies. The faint scent of lamp oil mixed with the dust of old parchment, a silent witness to decisions that had altered many lives.

Alcard stood at the edge of the room, his dust-covered light armor a testament to his recent long journey. His sheathed sword rested on his back, but his hand remained close to the hilt—a habit ingrained from too many years spent on the battlefield. His eyes scanned the room cautiously, his senses ever on alert. Seated before him were three other senior Outcasts, each with their own hardened presence.

Boreas, a massive man with a thick mustache, his body carrying the scars of countless battles.Edda, the only woman present, her sharp gaze betraying her impatience.Thornek, the most silent of them, yet renowned as a tracker who never failed his prey.

Seated at his desk, Oldman leaned back, his chair creaking under his weight, exhaling a long, tired breath before he spoke. His voice was heavy, resonating through the small yet tense room.

"I called you here because we've received an official request from Edenvila," he said, tapping a marked point on the map spread across the table. A small red circle enclosed a location in the north, near snow-covered mountains. "They're planning an expedition to a newly discovered ruin within their territory. And they require two Outcasts as escorts."

A heavy silence settled over the room. The air shifted, thick with unspoken thoughts—expeditions to ancient ruins rarely ended well.

Oldman continued, his tone now graver.

"Edenvila, as you all know, is one of the three major human kingdoms of the north. The strongest of the three. Their land is strategic, rich in resources, and well-guarded by a formidable army. And yet… they choose to hire us for this mission."

Boreas, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, his voice like grinding stone.

"The northern mountains? Just reaching that place is enough to kill a man. Frozen passes, unstable paths, and now a newly discovered ruin?" He narrowed his eyes. "That can only mean one thing—they don't know what they're walking into."

Edda crossed her arms, her expression filled with thinly veiled contempt.

"I've dealt with Edenvila's nobles before. They see us as lesser than their own soldiers, yet they send us to die for their causes," she scoffed. "If not for the money, I wouldn't even consider dealing with them."

Oldman nodded, understanding their frustration. But he left no room for refusal without reason. His gaze shifted to Alcard, his weary eyes betraying the weight of years spent defending The Wall.

"Alcard," Oldman addressed him directly. "I called you here because you're one of the most reliable among us. But you've just returned from a mission. I need to know—are you willing to take this job?"

Alcard remained silent, his gaze lowering to the map, studying the marked location. He knew the risks of such a journey. And his body had not yet fully recovered from his battle with the mutated Cyclop. The lingering fatigue, the dull ache of wounds not fully healed, all weighed on him.

After a moment, he exhaled and spoke firmly.

"I'm not fully recovered, Oldman. The injuries from my last mission still linger, and my strength has yet to return. I request permission to decline this time."

Oldman did not push. He nodded in quiet understanding.

"Very well. You've done enough for now. You're free to rest."

His attention then turned to the remaining three.

"What about the rest of you? Boreas? Edda? Thornek? Who will take this mission?"

His piercing gaze swept across the room, waiting for a response.

Boreas and Edda exchanged a brief glance, their silent understanding formed through years of working together. Without much deliberation, they both nodded.

"We'll take the job," Boreas answered steadily. "The two of us can handle it."

Oldman did not respond immediately. Instead, he reached for a document from a worn leather folder, then handed it to them.

"Good. This is your mission letter. You'll resupply at East Headquarters. The elves recently delivered new supplies—use them for your journey. You must arrive at Edenvila's border before the expedition begins—you have one month."

His finger traced the map, stopping at the precise location of the ruins.

"This path is treacherous. Prepare yourselves. And remember, this isn't just about the payment. Edenvila wants us to fail. Don't give them the satisfaction of proving them right."

Boreas took the mission document, tucking it into his belt pouch, while Edda studied the map closely, her brows furrowed.

"We understand," she replied shortly, arms still crossed.

Oldman regarded them once more, his expression unreadable.

"This mission could be an opportunity. Protect our reputation. Show them that the Outcasts are still dependable, even when the world has discarded us."

As the meeting ended, Alcard remained in place, watching as Boreas and Edda departed, their footsteps firm and unwavering. Thornek followed, ever silent, his expression unreadable.

Oldman eased back into his chair, slowly rolling up the map, as if the weight of responsibility had finally begun to settle on him again.

Alcard stared at the map one last time, then spoke in a low voice.

"Let's hope they won't regret taking this mission."

Oldman didn't turn, but his voice carried a weight far heavier than before.

"In The Wall, every mission is a gamble."

He finished rolling up the map, his gaze vacant, his thoughts deep in contemplation.

"That ruin… it was only recently found. And rumor has it, Edenvila isn't just hiring Outcasts for protection…"

He hesitated for a moment, his voice turning even graver.

"But perhaps, as sacrifices for something far greater."