The southern gate stood tall before Char, its iron bars etched with time-worn grooves and patches of rust where the elements had gnawed at them. Unlike the heavily patrolled northern and western gates, this one had a more lax security presence—just a few guards lingering by the stone outpost, their helmets tilted as they engaged in casual conversation.
This was the least prestigious exit from Oryn-Vel, leading out into the rugged wilderness beyond, where the roads were less traveled, less patrolled, and far more dangerous.
Char adjusted the straps of his pack and exhaled slowly.
This was it.
The real beginning of his journey.
Before he could take another step forward, a rough voice called out to him.
"So, you're the kid, huh?"
Char turned, startled, and found himself staring up at a grizzled older man, leaning against the gate's stone archway.
The man looked like he'd been through hell and back twice—scarred hands, a crooked nose that had clearly been broken before, and a permanent squint, as if the world itself had done nothing but disappoint him.
He was clad in a heavy leather coat, fur-lined at the collar, the kind meant for long travels through cold terrain. A thick steel axe was slung across his back, its blade dull but sturdy, like it had split more bones than trees.
Char immediately didn't like him. He seemed like a person created to fill the world out, rather than one Char had written
"Who—"
"Benjamin," the man grunted, pushing himself off the wall. "Tess sent me."
The words hit Char like a punch to the gut.
"What?"
"Yeah. Paid me well enough to keep an eye on you, make sure you don't get yourself killed out there." Benjamin scratched his beard, eyeing Char up and down. "I gotta admit, kid, I don't see what's so special about you. But orders are orders."
Char clenched his jaw.
So Tess didn't trust him after all.
She'd been the one to encourage him. The one to put faith in him when the others doubted.
And yet…
She lied.
She never truly believed he could do it alone.
"So you lied about the faith you had in me," Char thought bitterly.
His fists curled at his sides.
He knew—he knew he should be grateful. Having someone experienced watching his back increased his chances of survival. He wasn't naive enough to think he'd last long alone in the wilderness.
But he'd wanted the choice.
He'd wanted to be the one to decide whether or not he needed help.
Instead, Tess had made that choice for him.
Benjamin must have caught the look on his face because he let out a short, dry chuckle.
"You look like a kicked dog, kid. You mad about it? Tough. You ain't going alone, so deal with it."
Char inhaled sharply, swallowing the frustration that burned at his throat.
There was no use arguing. The decision had already been made.
"Fine," he muttered. "Let's just go."
Benjamin smirked.
"That's more like it."
Without another word, the two of them stepped through the southern gate, leaving Oryn-Vel behind.
*
The world beyond the southern gate unfolded before Char in an expanse of rugged, untamed wilderness.
The land dipped into shallow valleys and rolled into jagged hills, blanketed in patches of wild grass and gnarled treesthat clawed at the sky like skeletal fingers. The air smelled of damp earth and distant rain, crisp with the lingering chill of the night before. To the far southwest, the towering Jaffalex mountain range rose like a fortress of jagged stone, its peaks partially shrouded in thick morning mist.
There was a certain weight to the landscape, a feeling of emptiness that unsettled Char.
Oryn-Vel had been loud, chaotic, alive—this place, though vast and open, felt hollow in comparison.
The road ahead was little more than a well-worn dirt path, uneven with stones and crisscrossed with wagon tracks that had long since dried in the sun. It stretched ahead, winding through thickets of low-lying brush and scattered trees before vanishing into the horizon.
For a moment, Char just walked in silence, letting the reality of his situation sink in.
He had left the city.
He was heading into the unknown.
And Tess...
He clenched his jaw.
He still hadn't decided how he truly felt about what she had done.
Part of him was furious.
She'd been the one who had trusted him first. When the others were skeptical, when Ishmael had doubted, when Callen had made jokes at his expense—Tess had believed in him.
Or at least, he'd thought she had.
But now, knowing she had arranged for Benjamin to follow him... it made him feel small.
Like he was still just an outsider, an inconvenience they had to keep alive rather than someone they truly considered an equal.
But at the same time...
He exhaled slowly, eyes flickering toward the distant mountains.
If he was really honest with himself... maybe she had been right to do it.
He wasn't strong.
Not yet.
And if something happened to him before he even had a chance to unlock his mana nodes—if he died before he could even begin to change the course of this story—then everything would have been for nothing.
Maybe it wasn't betrayal.
Maybe it was insurance.
Either way, the thought sat heavy in his chest.
A gruff voice broke him from his thoughts.
"You ever been outside the city before, kid?"
Char turned to see Benjamin walking a few paces ahead, his axe slung across his back, his broad frame cutting a powerful silhouette against the morning light.
"No," Char admitted.
Benjamin snorted.
"Didn't think so. You got the look of a city rat."
Char frowned. "And what look is that?"
"The kind that don't know how to watch his own back."
The older man gave him a once-over before shaking his head.
"Listen up, boy, because I ain't repeating myself. Rule number one: You see tracks on the road that ain't wagon wheels or boots? Avoid 'em. Bandits, beasts, worse things than both—this road ain't safe. Rule number two: Never camp near running water. People think it's a good idea, but sound carries too well. You'll wake up with a knife at your throat. Rule number three..."
He glanced up at the sky, squinting at the pale morning sun.
"Always make sure you got a way out. If things go south, hesitation gets you killed."
Char listened intently, committing every word to memory.
Benjamin had the air of someone who had been through it all—not just some random mercenary Tess had hired, but a survivor.
"You sound like you've done this before," Char noted.
Benjamin let out a low chuckle, a sound with no real humor in it.
"Thirty years ago, I was in the Velkar War."
Char blinked. The Velkar War? Another to thing Char remembered writing as part of the 'fictional' world's lore. However, to try and converse with Benjamin more, he acted clueless. "The... what?"
Benjamin shot him an unimpressed look.
"You really don't know anything, huh? Figures." He exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. "Long story short—thirty years back, Oryn-Vel was at war with the Velkari. Bastards from the north, mean sons of bitches. Knew how to fight, knew how to kill. We spent six years in the frozen mud, watching friends die and praying we weren't next."
His voice turned gravelly, distant, like he was speaking through the haze of old memories.
"You wanna know what I learned, kid?"
Char hesitated before nodding.
Benjamin's expression darkened.
"That the world don't give a damn if you're ready or not. It chews you up either way."
A cold wind swept across the road, kicking up dust.