Gramps carefully opened the wooden box, moving his hands with surprising gentleness. Inside, dozens of bottles of booze rested neatly, untouched and unbroken. A sigh of relief escaped him as he ran his fingers over the glass.
Velren hopped off the bear and stormed toward the old man.
"Are you crazy?! Does my life actually mean less to you than a couple of bottles of booze?!"
Gramps waved a hand dismissively.
"Don't be ridiculous. I knew you'd be fine. You can take care of yourself pretty well. But my booze? Now that's a different story."
Velren gaped at him, utterly dumbfounded.
'This drunkard geezer...!'
From a distance, the girl watched the old man and the boy argue back and forth. Who are they? How could they so easily defeat the creatures that had nearly overwhelmed the three of them?
A voice called out to her, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"Ilya...!" It was the boy who had been struck earlier. He winced as he tried to move, his voice was hoarse.
"Hurry... heal Lucian..."
Ilya's eyes widened as she turned toward their unconscious companion. She rushed to Lucian's side, hovering her hands over his still body. A faint glow pulsed from her palms as she began mending his wounds.
"Hold on, Lucian," she murmured.
"Caelum, stay still. I'll tend to you next."
From afar, Velren observed the three.
"Who are those guys?"
Gramps, after cautiously selecting a bottle from the box, took a swig before answering.
"Students from the academy, most likely."
Velren frowned.
"The academy?"
Gramps exhaled, then waved a hand vaguely.
"Some academy back in Elyndra. Trains kids to fight, use magic, all that stuff."
Velren crossed his arms.
"Then... what are they doing here?"
"Probably on a commission assigned by the academy itself," Gramps replied with a shrug.
"Huh... I see."
But more importantly...
Velren glanced back at the old man, who was now thoroughly enjoying his drink. That move he made back then—it was so fast that Velren had almost missed it entirely.
And the fact was... that wasn't his Vital Crest. No, that was just pure Ka.
Ka, at its core, was the essence of life, the very force that flowed through all living beings. While most people would only manifest their Ka through their unique Vital Crest—an ability tied to their very soul—Ka in its raw form could also be harnessed to strengthen the body. It could enhance speed, sharpen reflexes, reinforce durability, and even heighten senses.
Velren himself had mastered the art of using raw Ka. He often channeled it to silence his movements while hunting, increased his speed, and so on. But the way Gramps had moved… the sheer speed, the seamless control—it was Ka at its purest form.
'Just how much reserve did he have inside his body to move that fast?'
And then there was the other thing…
Velren's gaze drifted to the corpse of the first bear, the one Gramps had cut down with his katana. That cut… even for a novice like him, someone who still didn't fully understand swordsmanship, he could tell that it was—
Clean... and precise.
There was no hesitation in that swing, no wasted movement. Just pure, lethal efficiency.
He turned back to the old man and hesitated before asking:
"Gramps… do you know how to use a katana?"
The old man barely reacted at first, but after a moment, he let out a small chuckle.
"Kid, handling any weapon is no mere challenge for me."
Velren frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Gramps smirked, taking another sip from his bottle.
"I've been around long enough to use just about anything that can kill. Spears, bows, axes—you name it. That sword of yours is no different.
Velren stared at him, absorbing his words. Gripping the sheathed weapon in his hands, he finally asked:
"Then… will you teach me how to wield a katana?"
Gramps looked at him for a long moment, carefully observing both the boy and the weapon on his hand.
Ugh. Again with that stare. The last time the old man looked at him like that was when he tried to give him a name as a baby.
Then, finally, Gramps shrugged.
"Sure, why not."
He took another sip of his booze, completely unfazed.
Velren exhaled. That was easier than he expected.
After finally taking a final sip of his booze, Gramps let out a satisfied sigh and wiped his mouth.
"Right. Let's go home then."
"Wait," Velren said, glancing back toward the academy students.
"Are they gonna be okay?"
Gramps looked at the girl, who was still kneeling beside her injured companion.
"They'll be fine. That girl alone would be enough to take care of them."
"…Huh. Okay."
"Kid."
Velren turned, only to see Gramps gesturing toward the closed box near him. He sighed, picked it up, and hoisted it onto his shoulder. Back to his earlier task it was, then.
Just as they were about to leave, a voice called out.
"Wait."
Velren turned to see the spear-wielding boy, now conscious but looking worse for wear. His wounds were mostly healed, but exhaustion was still evident in his eyes.
"…Thank you, both of you." the boy said.
Velren blinked, as if unfamiliar with the concept of receiving gratitude. Awkwardly, he muttered:
"It's fine."
Gramps, meanwhile, gave the boy a glance.
"What assignment brought you this deep into the forest?"
The boy hesitated before answering.
"We were sent to gather local herbs. A few dozen of them. We… didn't know there were bears here."
Gramps clicked his tongue.
"Next time, don't turn your back on the forest." With that, he turned and walked away.
Velren, still carrying the box, gave a slight farewell bow before following after Gramps, leaving the three students behind.