The Road Beyond the Walls
Victor alongside Lane, Clara, and the five new companions headed out of Fantom City.
They didn’t take any quest.
No destination was announced.
No explanation was given.
They simply walked.
And that, more than anything, made the air feel heavier.
The towering gates of Fantom City lood behind them, iron-bound and weathered, slowly shrinking as they moved forward. The sounds of the city—vendors shouting, tal clashing, laughter, argunts—faded into a distant hum until only the quiet remained.
Ahead stretched an open road.
Dusty.
Wide.
Uncertain.
The morning sun hung low, spilling pale gold over the land, brushing against Victor’s black shirt and golden jacket, making the edges glow faintly like embers hidden beneath calm ash.
A soft breeze moved through the group, carrying with it the scent of earth and distant trees.
No one spoke at first.
Because no one quite knew what to say.
Victor walked ahead.
Hands in his pockets.
Relaxed.
Unbothered.
Like a man taking a casual stroll... not leading people into sothing unknown.
Behind him, Lane followed closely, her black dress swaying gently with each step, her gaze occasionally flickering toward his back—calm, trusting, unwavering.
Clara walked on the other side, her posture straight, but her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Every now and then, her eyes drifted to Victor, as if trying to read sothing that refused to be understood.
And behind them—
Eon and Brinda walked side by side.
Well... "side by side" might have been too generous.
More like—
barely tolerating each other’s presence.
Eon broke the silence first.
"Hey... what kind of training do you think he’s going to make us do?"
His deep voice carried a hint of unease, sothing rare for soone like him.
Brinda glanced sideways, one brow lifting slightly, lips curling into a faint, amused smile.
"Does it really matter what kind of training it is?" she said lazily. "As long as it makes us stronger... who cares?"
Her tone was light.
Almost teasing.
But her eyes—
They flickered toward Victor for a brief second.
Curious.
Expectant.
Eon frowned slightly, rolling his shoulder as if trying to shake off sothing invisible.
"Still... for so reason, hearing him say he would train us..."
He paused.
A faint crease ford between his brows.
"...makes feel uncomfortable."
He exhaled slowly.
"I don’t know what it is... but the way he said it..."
His jaw tightened.
"...was sohow ominous."
And just like that—
That smirking face flashed through his mind.
Victor’s calm smile.
Those golden eyes.
That quiet certainty.
Eon’s steps slowed just a fraction.
"...Yeah. I don’t like it."
Brinda watched him for a mont.
Then—
She giggled.
Soft.
Playful.
"Heh... so the feared Ox King is actually scared of so training?"
Eon’s expression darkened instantly.
He turned his head slightly toward her, eyes narrowing.
"Are you really sure you want to talk to that way?"
His voice dropped.
Low.
Warning.
"You do know that I’m related to the royal family."
Brinda didn’t even flinch.
Didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t back down.
Instead—
She shrugged.
Careless.
Almost bored.
"You might be related," she said, tilting her head slightly, her long purple hair swaying with the motion, "but even if you were..."
Her gaze sharpened.
"...in the end, you’re still Victor’s subordinate."
Silence.
For a second—
Just a second—
Sothing dangerous flickered in Eon’s eyes.
Not anger.
Not quite.
Sothing sharper.
Sothing restrained.
Then—
He clicked his tongue.
"...Tch."
And looked away.
Not because he had nothing to say—
But because he chose not to.
Brinda noticed.
Of course she did.
Her lips curved slightly.
Interesting.
The Ox King... holding back?
That wasn’t sothing people saw every day.
She leaned a little closer, her voice dropping just enough to carry only to him.
"What?" she teased softly. "Don’t tell you’re actually scared of him."
Eon didn’t respond imdiately.
His eyes stayed forward.
On Victor.
Walking ahead.
Unbothered.
Untouched.
After a mont—
"...No."
His answer was quiet.
Too quiet.
"I’m not scared."
A pause.
Then—
"...I just know better."
Brinda blinked.
That... wasn’t the answer she expected.
She studied him for a mont longer.
Then let out a soft chuckle.
"You’ve changed."
Eon scoffed.
"Or maybe I’ve just stopped being stupid."
She laughed again.
And just like that—
The tension shifted.
From sothing sharp...
To sothing strangely familiar.
Like two predators circling each other—
Not as enemies.
But as rivals who understood the sa danger.
Still—
That didn’t stop them from bickering.
"Oh please," Brinda said, crossing her arms lightly beneath her chest, "you’re just making excuses now."
"Excuses?" Eon shot back. "You’re the one acting like you’ve got everything figured out."
"I do," she said smoothly.
He snorted.
"Yeah? Then explain why you’re following him like a lovestruck idiot."
Her smile didn’t falter.
But her eyes narrowed just slightly.
"And you’re not?" she replied.
"...I’m following strength."
"And I’m not?"
Eon opened his mouth—
Then paused.
Because for once—
He didn’t have an imdiate answer.
Brinda noticed that too.
And this ti—
Her smile turned sharper.
"Exactly."
He exhaled sharply through his nose.
"...You’re annoying."
"And you’re boring."
"...Keep talking like that, and I might forget you’re useful."
"And you keep talking like that," she shot back, stepping a little closer, her voice dropping just enough to tease, "and Victor might rember he prefers ."
Eon stopped walking.
Just for a second.
Then—
He looked at her.
Really looked at her.
And for the first ti—
There was a faint smirk on his face.
"...Yeah."
His voice was calm.
Controlled.
"But I also know sothing else."
Brinda blinked.
"What?"
Eon’s gaze shifted forward again.
Toward Victor.
"...He has a soft spot."
A pause.
Then—
"For you."
Silence.
Just for a heartbeat.
Brinda’s steps slowed.
Barely.
Her expression didn’t change.
But sothing in her eyes—
Shifted.
Then she clicked her tongue lightly, brushing it off with a small huff.
"Don’t get ahead of yourself."
Eon chuckled under his breath.
Not mocking.
Not harsh.
Just—
Knowing.
Ahead of them—
Victor’s steps didn’t slow.
Didn’t change.
But if anyone had been close enough—
They might have noticed.
The faintest curve of his lips.
As if—
He had heard everything.
The road stretched on.
The wind whispered through the grass.
And sowhere beyond the horizon—
Sothing waited.
Sothing none of them fully understood yet.
The two forr rulers of Fantom City’s underworld—
continued to bicker like rivals.
Like comrades.
Like sothing in between.
And Victor—
Walked ahead of them all.
Leading.
Always leading.
Into sothing far deeper than any of them were prepared for.
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