FYTE 03

Chapter 3

It was six months ago when Aris first arrived at this place—somewhere perfect for starving to death. He walked into the village through a forest teeming with magical beasts, looking like he was just out for a stroll. Of course, getting through the forest wasn’t entirely impossible if you knew what you were doing. But at the time, all he had on him was a single sword.

There was nothing ordinary about Aris—his appearance, his name, or his swordsmanship.

From the beginning, no sane person in their right mind would’ve crawled all the way to a village that had absolutely nothing. Because of that, people initially suspected that Aris might be a wanted criminal hiding out in the village.

Which wasn’t entirely wrong—and Aris neither confirmed nor denied it.

He was nearly driven out by the suspicious villagers at first, but he managed to stay because he wiped out all the magical beasts lurking near the village. Even so, with everyone already busy trying to feed their own families, they weren’t exactly thrilled to welcome Aris.

But Aris settled into an abandoned house without anyone’s help and somehow managed to live on his own just fine. In fact, he even went into the beast-infested forest to hunt and shared the meat with the villagers. Even though he seemed like a foreigner, he was familiar with the customs of Myren and interacted naturally with the locals. For those reasons, Aris had continued living in the village without causing any major problems.

In contrast, Priestess Rizel had far worse luck. She had been sent from the central temple to manage the shrine before the forest was contaminated—and ended up stranded. Right now, it was impossible for the central temple to send out enough people to subjugate the magical beasts.

If she requested rescue, the central temple could have pulled her out, even if not the villagers. But a shrine left unattended would lose its divine power. Without the holy barrier, magical beasts would invade the village.

In short, without Rizel, the village would fall. That’s why, just like Aris, Rizel—a fellow outsider—had no choice but to stay.

So it had been half a year since anything from the outside world had made its way here.

“We’ve been requesting outside help for a while, but this is the first time the temple has officially responded.”

“If the goddess has any conscience at all, she wouldn’t abandon a priestess who’s sacrificing herself to maintain the divine power protecting the village.”

Aris’s voice was drowned out by the unusually noisy villagers.

“But that someone came from Rashvalen is really unexpected. We didn’t get any notice about it. I only found out today. They say it wasn’t arranged in advance, yet she arrived the same day as the temple people. That’s strange.”

“It is.”

“And she came alone, too. Isn’t that weird? Honestly, it makes me wonder if Rashvalen has some hidden agenda.”

Aris nodded, and Rizel frowned at Mirea with disapproval. It was a different tone than her earlier friendliness.

“Rashvalen usually doesn’t get involved in things like this.”

Rashvalen—The Rashuon Alliance of Sentient Beings.

This world, Rashuon, is inhabited by many races and species living together. After centuries of wars and conflict, they created the Alliance of Sentient Beings—Rashvalen—to pursue coexistence. Rashvalen acts as a mediator, uniting vastly different cultures and lifestyles to settle disputes.

The Frost Temple, while publicly cooperative with Rashvalen, didn’t exactly see eye to eye with them. Worshiping the Goddess of Frost, the temple was a human-centric religion. Naturally, it often took exclusionary stances toward other races. That ideological gap made it hard for the temple and Rashvalen to get along.

Hence Rizel’s attitude. As for Aris, he didn’t like either side. But he kept that to himself and smiled faintly in agreement.

“I think so too.”

Aris watched Mirea finish speaking with the village chief and head toward her truck. She unlocked the tailgate, and with a clunk, it dropped to the ground. She dragged out the outermost box, which was filled with rice—the staple of Myren—along with other grains, potatoes, and corn. Without asking for help, she started unloading everything herself.

“She really plans to do it all alone, huh?”

Aris let out a dumbfounded laugh. He thought about helping, but she didn’t seem tired at all—it would’ve just been unnecessary meddling. Then again, hadn’t Mirea also meddled in his business earlier? So maybe it was fair to return the favor.

He walked over and inspected the cargo. Since there was no roof over the bed of the truck, everything was tightly secured under a waterproof tarp.

“If you’re thinking of helping, you only need to unload those boxes,” Mirea called out from behind him.

“The ones wrapped in padding. They’re medical supplies.”

Aris climbed onto the truck and handed down three boxes wrapped in cushioning material. Behind them were more boxes. As Aris glanced at them, Mirea offered an explanation he hadn’t asked for.

“Those are my personal belongings. You can leave them.”

Without waiting for a reply, Mirea walked over to the chief and got a signed receipt confirming the delivery. The chief took her hand and shook it up and down repeatedly.

“I only delivered them… It’s nothing compared to what the temple does…”

“But you brought what we needed.”

The chief shook his head at Mirea, who was speaking Myrenese in a clumsy accent.

“Even the smallest kindness feels like rain to those in need.”

Then he began to express his gratitude—in a very long-winded way. The chief tended to ramble with unnecessary side stories and explanations, often going on for far too long. It was mostly a one-sided conversation.

Watching Mirea’s expression as she listened, Aris became certain of one thing: she probably understood only about half of what the chief was saying.

And he was right. Mirea only half-understood the chief. She knew a little Myrenese, but his dialect was too thick. She had no idea what he was saying, though it was clearly some kind of thank you. She nodded along politely, but when she responded too casually to one of his questions, the chief grabbed her hand and started leading her away.

Mirea was caught off guard. It didn’t seem like he meant her harm, but still—it was uncomfortable not knowing what exactly she’d agreed to. She shot a desperate look at Aris, the only one who could interpret for her.

Completely hopeless. Aris sighed quietly and followed the chief, who was dragging Mirea away.

“He wants you to join them for a meal.”

Mirea, relieved it wasn’t anything strange, asked lightly:

“Just me?”

“With the temple people. At the village hall.”

Mirea gave an awkward smile.

“I’m not that close with them… It’s not really the kind of relationship where we eat together…”

Just like Rizel, Mirea didn’t seem eager to mix with the temple folk. Earlier, her emotions were easy to read on her face, but now Aris wasn’t sure whether she was being sincere or joking.

“Are they excluding you because you’re from Rashvalen?”

That made Mirea turn to Aris with a laugh.

“Assuming that Rashvalen and the Frost Temple must hate each other—that’s just a stereotype.”

She waved a hand.

“If anything, I’m the opposite.”

“Were you a believer?”

“I’m not religious.”

After a short pause, she added,

“But… for reasons like that, I don’t really want to get close to them now.”

Aris had no idea what she meant.

By the time they reached the village hall, steam was already wafting from the kitchen inside. The cooking had just begun. People started gathering as things were set up. The chief, smiling kindly, seated Mirea on a mat outside. There wasn’t enough room inside, so he asked her to be understanding. Mirea quickly waved her hand to show it was no problem. It seemed she didn’t need a translator anymore, so Aris quietly stepped away. He was too tired to get more involved.

The temple people sat together in a tight group, just like Mirea had said—they didn’t seem particularly close to her. Rizel was tending to them.

Aris waited until the food was cooked, then ladled portions into bowls. He placed them onto a tray and set it down in front of Mirea before sitting across from her.

“I don’t even know why I’m taking care of you.”

No one had asked him to help, yet he was complaining to himself.

Mirea, suddenly receiving scolding for no reason while she was just sitting quietly, raised her eyebrows.

“I can eat by myself, you know.”