The rain had not stopped by the time they dragged him onto the ship.
Cold seawater splashed violently against the wooden hull while thunder rolled across the dark skies above. The mercenary vessel creaked loudly with every crashing wave, lanterns swaying from rusted hooks as rough voices echoed throughout the deck.
Aldreic barely remembered any of it clearly.
Only fragments remained.
Blurred faces.
The smell of blood.
His father collapsing.
His mother falling into the mud.
The sensation of being dragged.
His stomach still hurt from the blow the mercenary captain gave him. Every breath felt heavy, painful, almost hollow, as though his lungs themselves had become bruised.
Then darkness swallowed everything.
The first thing Aldreic saw when he opened his eyes was food.
Warm food.
A wooden tray rested beside him on a small stool.
Bread.
Soup.
Meat.
Real meat.
Steam still rose faintly from the bowl beneath the dim lanternlight swinging overhead.
For several seconds, Aldreic simply stared blankly.
The room itself was small and cramped, built entirely from damp wood darkened by years of seawater and rot. The ceiling hung low above him, forcing even average-sized men to duck slightly while entering.
The entire cabin rocked gently.
The sound of waves crashing outside echoed endlessly.
A ship.
Then it returned to him.
The forest.
The rain.
His parents.
His eyes widened slightly.
Aldreic shot upward immediately.
"Mom!"
His voice cracked through the cabin.
"Mom! Dad!"
Nothing.
Only the groaning wood of the ship answered him.
Aldreic's breathing quickened slightly.
He looked around wildly.
No windows.
No parents.
No forest.
Only unfamiliar walls.
Then finally—
Reality settled in.
They were dead.
The room suddenly felt colder.
Aldreic lowered his gaze slowly toward the wooden floor.
For a brief moment, something painful tightened inside his chest.
Not explosive grief.
Not screaming sorrow.
Just…
emptiness.
A hollow feeling.
As though something that had always existed around him had suddenly disappeared, leaving behind silence.
The cabin door suddenly creaked open.
A thin, scrawny-looking man stepped inside carrying another lantern.
"Will you shut up already?" the man barked irritably. "You're making noise like a dying goat."
Aldreic looked toward him silently.
The man frowned slightly.
"…What?"
Still no response.
Then another figure appeared behind him.
A girl.
She looked roughly around Aldreic's age, perhaps slightly older. Thin build. Pale skin. Long dark hair tied loosely behind her shoulders. Her clothes looked worn and patched together from different fabrics, though she carried herself strangely confidently despite her appearance.
Sharp eyes.
Observant eyes.
She walked into the cabin quietly before placing another piece of bread onto the tray.
"Why are you acting like such a crybaby?" she asked casually.
Aldreic continued staring blankly ahead.
The girl tilted her head slightly.
"…You deaf?"
Still nothing.
She sighed.
"Whatever."
Then both of them exited the room.
The cabin became silent again.
Aldreic slowly lowered his eyes toward the food beside him.
He could smell herbs inside the soup.
Pepper.
Cooked onions.
Fresh bread.
Different from home.
Everything looked unfamiliar.
He remembered how his mother used to prepare meals silently without speaking a single unnecessary word.
Now she was gone.
Dead.
Aldreic stared at the tray for a long time.
Yet he did not touch it.
---
Three hours later, the girl returned.
The lanternlight from outside spilled softly into the dark cabin as she stepped inside carrying folded clothes.
She paused immediately.
The food remained untouched.
Aldreic sat near the corner of the bed exactly as before, elbows resting against his knees while staring silently toward the floorboards.
No tears.
No panic.
No screaming.
But something about the atmosphere around him felt heavy.
The girl studied him carefully.
Most people cried after losing family.
Some begged.
Others became angry.
But this boy…
felt empty.
And yet not empty at the same time.
There was something cold inside him.
Something buried deeply beneath his silence.
"You still haven't eaten?" she asked.
No response.
She walked closer.
"You know if you starve yourself, nobody here's going to care, right?"
Still nothing.
Aldreic's face barely moved at all.
No sadness.
No anger.
No expression.
Only his eyes seemed different now.
Sharper.
Darker.
Like someone quietly staring into something far away.
The girl frowned slightly.
Then suddenly—
another figure entered the room.
A larger man this time.
Broad shoulders.
Grey beard.
Scar stretching across his chin.
Unlike the others, his clothes looked more organized, his armor cleaner. A longsword rested calmly by his waist while his posture carried discipline rather than recklessness.
Second in command.
Aldreic could tell immediately.
The man studied him silently.
"So this is the boy."
The girl nodded.
"He hasn't touched the food."
The man grunted quietly before pulling a chair forward and sitting opposite Aldreic.
"What's your name?"
"…Aldreic."
His voice sounded calm.
Too calm.
The man raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Aldreic what?"
Aldreic looked at him blankly.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I never had another name."
The man leaned back slightly.
"Hm."
Then:
"How old are you?"
"I should be sixteen by winter."
This time even the girl looked surprised.
"Sixteen?" she muttered.
The second-in-command narrowed his eyes carefully.
The strength Aldreic showed earlier flashed through his mind immediately.
A boy that age should not have been capable of crossing swords with grown mercenaries.
Especially not using a blade he supposedly never trained with.
And yet—
there had been technique in his movements.
Crude.
Instinctive.
But real.
The man folded his arms.
"You fought well back there."
Aldreic said nothing.
"Where'd you learn to use a sword?"
"…I didn't."
The girl scoffed.
"That's obviously a lie."
"It isn't."
Silence followed briefly.
Then the second-in-command sighed.
"Fine. We'll get straight to the point."
He leaned forward slightly.
"You're going to work for your bread here."
Aldreic's eyes shifted toward him slowly.
"The price of bread is expensive aboard this ship."
Aldreic stared blankly.
"…What's the price of bread?"
The girl suddenly burst into laughter.
Even the older mercenary smirked slightly.
Then heavy footsteps approached outside.
The cabin door opened once more.
The mercenary captain entered.
The same massive man who killed his father.
The room immediately felt smaller.
Aldreic instinctively stiffened slightly.
Not fear.
Recognition.
The captain crossed his arms while staring down at him.
"The boy asked what the price of bread is."
The captain laughed deeply.
"That's a good one."
Then his smile slowly faded.
"What do we look like to you, boy?"
Aldreic stared at him.
His face remained completely blank.
"…Thieves."
The room became quiet briefly.
Then the captain grinned.
"He's right."
The captain stepped closer.
"But we're more than thieves."
His voice lowered slightly.
"We're people abandoned by kingdoms."
He pointed toward the deck above.
"Some of us were farmers."
Another point.
"Some soldiers."
Another.
"Some blacksmiths. Hunters. Fishermen."
The captain's eyes darkened slightly.
"People used. Forgotten. Trampled beneath noble boots."
He leaned down slightly toward Aldreic.
"So we decided to show kingdoms what abandoned men can do when they stand together."
Aldreic listened silently.
But inside his head—
the thought came immediately.
That sounds stupid.
Not honorable.
Not meaningful.
Just violence pretending to have purpose.
But he kept those thoughts to himself.
His face revealed nothing.
The captain narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Hard to read you."
Aldreic remained silent.
Then the girl tossed folded clothes toward him.
"Get changed."
She pointed upward.
"We're nearing Vargade."
Aldreic looked toward her slightly.
"Vargade?"
"The kingdom," she replied casually.
Then she smirked faintly.
"Your first raid."
---
The sky had darkened into deep orange by the time Aldreic stepped onto the deck.
The sea stretched endlessly around them beneath the setting sun while cold wind whipped against the sails overhead. Mercenaries moved throughout the ship preparing weapons, checking armor, tightening bowstrings.
Everything felt organized.
Too organized for simple thieves.
Torches burned near weapon racks.
Barrels of arrows lined the deck.
Formation markings had even been painted onto parts of the ship.
Aldreic quietly observed everything.
The girl from earlier leaned against the railing nearby sharpening a dagger.
"You stare too much," she muttered.
Aldreic ignored her.
Ahead of them—
land became visible.
Massive cliffs surrounded the coastline while tall stone watchtowers overlooked the sea. Beyond them rested a sprawling settlement illuminated by hundreds of lights.
Vargade.
It looked far larger than anything Aldreic had imagined before.
His entire life had been forest.
Trees.
Rain.
Isolation.
Yet now—
a whole kingdom stretched before him.
The captain climbed atop a wooden crate.
"All of you listen carefully!"
The deck quieted immediately.
"This is Vargade territory."
His tone became serious.
"Not weak territory."
The mercenaries nodded quietly.
"This kingdom produces some of the finest warriors on the continent."
He scanned them carefully.
"So don't get careless."
Then his expression hardened further.
"And if any of you see the Immortal King…"
A pause.
"Run."
Even some mercenaries looked uncomfortable hearing the title.
Aldreic frowned slightly.
Immortal King?
What kind of ridiculous title is that?
Was it symbolic?
Or simply arrogance?
The captain continued issuing orders.
"Tanks front line."
"Archers behind."
"Melee units middle formation."
Then his eyes landed on Aldreic.
"You stay beside me."
Several mercenaries looked surprised.
But none questioned him.
Aldreic silently stared toward the approaching kingdom.
How did my life become this?
Yesterday he had been chopping wood in the forest.
Checking animal traps.
Living in isolation.
Now—
he stood aboard a raiding vessel preparing to invade a foreign kingdom beside killers and thieves.
And strangely—
part of him felt excited.
That realization unsettled him more than anything else.
His parents were dead.
Yet revenge did not consume him.
Hatred did not overwhelm him.
Instead—
he simply moved forward.
Too easily.
Almost naturally.
Aldreic lowered his gaze toward his hands.
What is wrong with me?
The ship crashed violently against the docks shortly after.
"MOVE!"
Mercenaries flooded forward immediately.
Ropes flew.
Hooks latched onto wood.
Then chaos exploded.
The first guard rushed forward shouting—
Only for an arrow to pierce directly through his throat.
Blood sprayed across the docks.
Screams erupted instantly.
The mercenaries charged.
Aldreic followed instinctively.
Steel clanged everywhere around him.
A Vargade soldier lunged suddenly toward him.
Aldreic reacted instantly.
Too instantly.
His body moved before thought fully formed.
The knife the girl gave him flashed upward—
SLASH!
The soldier stumbled backward clutching his arm.
Aldreic froze briefly.
He moved naturally.
Like his body understood combat already.
The soldier roared angrily and swung again.
Aldreic ducked.
Pivoted.
Then drove the knife directly beneath the man's ribs.
The soldier collapsed choking violently.
Aldreic stared down at him.
His first kill.
Yet his face remained blank.
No horror.
No shaking.
Only observation.
Then another enemy rushed him.
This time Aldreic moved faster.
He grabbed a fallen sword instinctively.
Steel clashed violently.
The impact echoed through his arms.
The enemy mercenary was larger.
Older.
More experienced.
But Aldreic's strength shocked him immediately.
The boy's blade pressure felt unnatural.
Too heavy.
Too fast.
Their swords collided repeatedly.
Then suddenly—
Aldreic twisted sharply sideways and slammed the pommel directly into the man's jaw.
CRACK.
The soldier staggered.
Aldreic immediately stepped forward and cut across his neck.
Blood splashed across the docks.
The captain watched briefly from nearby.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
That boy fought like someone born for battle.
Not trained.
Not disciplined.
But instinctive.
Dangerous.
Aldreic stood silently amidst the chaos.
Flames spread throughout the settlement.
People screamed.
Steel rang endlessly.
And for the first time in his life—
he felt it clearly.
Not joy.
Not happiness.
But purpose.
Battle made sense to him.
More sense than emotions ever had.
And somewhere deep inside him—
that realization frightened him far more than war itself.