chapter 14.3

The sky remained heavy with gray clouds, casting an ominous shadow over the abandoned village. A cold wind drifted lazily through the narrow streets, carrying the scent of damp earth from last night's rain. Their footsteps echoed softly as they followed the cloaked figure through the deserted settlement, each step amplifying the unsettling silence around them.

Unlike the other buildings that stood in decay, the house at the edge of the village remained intact. Its wooden door was sturdy, in contrast to the others left ajar and swaying with the wind. The walls bore no sign of rot, standing firm as if untouched by time.

With an effortless motion, the hooded figure pushed the door open, revealing an interior that starkly contrasted the desolate scene outside.

Instead of dust-covered furniture and signs of neglect, the inside was meticulously organized. Wooden shelves lined the walls, stacked neatly with preserved foods, fresh fruits that looked recently harvested, and large barrels of clean water stored in the corner. The faint aroma of aged wood and spices lingered in the air, giving the place a strange sense of warmth despite its eerie surroundings.

"Take what you need. I do not mind." The figure's voice was steady, neither cold nor welcoming, as if they were merely fulfilling a duty rather than offering kindness.

Alcard did not move immediately. His gaze swept the room, sharp and calculating, as if searching for hidden dangers within the hospitality. He had learned long ago that generosity often came with a price. His instincts rejected the idea of accepting something so freely without first understanding the motives behind it.

His voice, when he finally spoke, was low yet firm, carrying the weight of suspicion. "Why are you helping us? What do you gain from this?"

The hooded figure did not flinch at the question. They regarded Alcard with calm, unwavering eyes, as if expecting such skepticism. "I am merely fulfilling my role." A pause, then a slow, deliberate continuation. "However, I suspect this meeting is no coincidence. Because, by chance, I happen to be the one that the woman beside you has been seeking."

Alcard's body tensed. His head snapped toward Arwen, whose face had turned deathly pale. Her usually composed expression cracked, her eyes widening with something between disbelief and fear. Her lips parted slightly, as if forming words she could not bring herself to say.

"What do you mean?" Alcard's voice hardened, his entire posture shifting into one of heightened alertness. The air in the room thickened with tension.

The figure finally raised a hand, grasping the edge of their hood. With slow, deliberate movement, they pulled it back, revealing a face that seemed to radiate an ethereal glow beneath the dim light.

Pale as untouched porcelain, their skin bore an almost otherworldly sheen. But what caught Alcard's attention most was their hair—long, silver, shimmering under the faint illumination as though woven from strands of moonlight itself.

Arwen's breath hitched. Her hand flew to her mouth, her entire frame trembling. "Are you…?" The question barely escaped her lips, choked with unspoken emotion.

She swallowed hard, attempting to steady herself before whispering the name she had only dared to imagine in stories. "Are you… a Jotun?"

Silence engulfed the room.

Alcard turned sharply, skepticism etched deep into his features. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head slightly as if rejecting the very notion. "A Jotun?" he repeated, his tone edged with disbelief. "That's just a legend."

But the figure remained unshaken by Alcard's doubt. A faint smile tugged at the corner of their lips—not of arrogance, but the kind worn by someone accustomed to disbelief. Their eyes, shimmering with an unreadable depth, settled on Arwen. "If you sought me, then here I am." Their voice carried a quiet authority, unyielding and certain. "But if you wish for the truth, you must be ready to face the answers you seek."

Arwen stood frozen, her eyes shimmering with the weight of realization. "I… I searched for you… but I never truly believed I would find you." Her voice trembled, thick with emotions she had yet to process.

Alcard remained rigid, his sharp gaze darting between Arwen and the so-called Jotun. His mind raced. Every fiber of his being told him this was absurd, yet what he saw before him—what he felt—could not be dismissed so easily.

Finally, he voiced the only thought that made sense to him. "If you are truly a Jotun, prove it. I won't believe in myths simply because of words."

The figure regarded him for a moment, then nodded as if acknowledging the challenge. They raised a hand, fingers outstretched.

Without a word, a glow erupted from their fingertips—an ethereal, blue-green luminescence that pulsed with an energy unlike anything Alcard had ever witnessed. It was not fire, nor was it mere light. The very air around them shifted, becoming heavier, charged with an unseen force that made it difficult to breathe.

Arwen gasped, stepping back instinctively. "This… this is the power of the Jotun." Her voice carried a reverence laced with fear, as if she were witnessing a miracle and a curse at once.

Alcard did not move. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, jaw clenched, mind wrestling between logic and the undeniable truth before him. He did not believe in old stories, but what he had just seen—what he had just felt—was beyond explanation.

The Jotun slowly lowered their hand, the glow fading until only the dim light of the room remained. Their gaze never wavered as they turned to Arwen. "Now," they said, their voice softer but still commanding, "what is it that you truly wish to ask, Arwen Delareu?"

Arwen inhaled shakily, nodding as if bracing herself for something far greater than she had anticipated. She had chased after myths, but now, standing before her was proof that myths were often more than just stories.

Meanwhile, Alcard remained still, his piercing eyes locked onto the silver-haired figure. He didn't believe in fairy tales. He didn't believe in destiny. But for the first time in a long while, he felt as though he had stepped into something far beyond his control.

And he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

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