The girls huddled closer together, their delicate hands clutching the fabric of their borrowed dresses. Tiphanna knelt before them, her voice soft, reassuring—yet it wasn’t enough. And the muffled noise of the other children scurrying inside from play only heightened their nervousness.
Sister Aeliana tried next, speaking with a gentle firmness that usually worked wonders on children. But tonight, fear had built walls around their hearts.
And then—
A melody.
Soft, delicate, almost like a whisper of wind through silver bells.
Daisuke stiffened. That song… he had heard it before.
Suddenly, all eyes turned to Princess Lumielle. She hummed a tune that shimmered like moonlight on water, each note floating through the air like petals in the breeze. The flickering fire cast a golden glow around her, her coral-pink hair catching the light, her jade-green eyes seeming to hold the universe itself.
Lyndoria, standing nearby, smiled knowingly, her hands clasped in front of her as she drank in the melody. The elves stilled, their fear melting away as if drawn into Lumielle’s warmth. Their cheeks flushed, their gazes transfixed—some of them trembled, others wept silently.
Her voice wrapped around them like the embrace of a mother long lost, whispering unspoken promises—you are safe now. You are home.
Slowly, gracefully, the princess glided toward the fireplace as if her toes didn’t touch the ground, her dress glistening like stardust as she settled onto the floor.
She stretched out her arms, beckoning, and one by one, the elven children stepped forward, mesmerized, drawn as if by a spell. They nestled against her, their tiny hands clutching the fabric of her gown, their weary heads resting against her warmth. She caressed their silken hair, her fingers light as a breeze, her voice never faltering as she lulled them into slumber.
Tiphanna’s heart swelled at the scene, and a tear slid down her cheek. Josephine, her ever-loyal assistant, was quick to wrap an arm around her.
Daisuke watched the sleeping children, his expression unreadable. He had seen too much suffering, but something about this moment stirred a deep, unfamiliar ache in his chest. His voice was quiet, yet resolute when he finally spoke.
“I’ll find a way to take them home.”
Tiphanna turned to him, her pear green eyes glistening. “Haxks… that’s incredibly sweet of you, but the elven city is far—far beyond human reach. It’s hidden and protected by ancient magic. Even if you found it, humans aren’t allowed entry. Besides, the monsters there are fierce.”
“Then I’ll just get stronger.” His words were simple, yet they carried the weight of an oath. “Maybe not now. But one day.”
Tiphanna hesitated, searching his face. Then she sighed, shaking her head. “The journey is treacherous. Not even elves dare to make it without guidance. And you—” she gestured at him with a knowing look. “You might be strong, but protecting twelve children through those lands? The way you are now, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Daisuke smirked. “Then I’ll just have to become someone who does stand a chance.”
The fire crackled, seemingly amplifying his words, its warm glow illuminating his determined gaze.
Tiphanna watched him, a smile forming as she recalled the sorry state of his daggers—yet, despite all odds, he had pressed on anyway, completely undeterred.
Her eyes gleamed with newfound conviction at that fact. “After everything I’ve witnessed so far, I can’t help but believe in your words.”
Daisuke grinned. “You won’t regret it.”
The elven children slept soundly against Lumielle, their fears momentarily forgotten. Tiphanna shifted her gaze to the princess, her pear green eyes softening.
It was one thing for Haxks to have promised to rescue these children—it was another to see him standing here now, having fulfilled it. And yet, that wasn’t what unsettled her most.
He was with her—Princess Lumielle. A member of the royal family who had openly admitted to traveling in secret, far from the prying eyes of her court.
Whatever had driven her to take such a risk had to be significant. Tiphanna didn’t know the reason, nor did she intend to pry. But one thing was becoming painfully clear—Haxks wasn’t just another ambitious adventurer.
His presence here, his unwavering resolve, the princess’s quiet allegiance. It was clear Haxks’ claim that forging his weapons could shape the fate of the kingdom itself wasn’t just a tall tale.
The blacksmith’s grip tightened slightly. Whatever awaited him on the path ahead, she had only one responsibility—to forge him a weapon that would carve his destiny when the time came.
As Daisuke observed the slumbering children, his thoughts couldn’t help but drift to a particular skill considering the completion of his most recent quest.
[The Liberator of Races]
[Rank: Legendary
This prestigious title is bestowed upon individuals bearing the mark of a Congenial Denizen, who epitomize a life dedicated to moral integrity and steadfast advocacy for freedom and equality.
It is reserved for those who have selflessly risked their own well-being to emancipate others from the chains of bondage, transcending barriers of race, gender, and ethnicity to embody the true spirit of liberation.
Title Effect:
▪︎ Each liberated race grants an increase of 5% to maximum HP (1/5)
▪︎ Receives a stat boost for each race liberated:
» Florians: Dexterity +40
» Elves: Agility +0
» Dwarves: Strength +0
» Beastfolk: Critical Damage +0
» Goliaths: Defense +0
▪︎ Grants the power to teleport rescued slaves, be it individuals or groups, to a designated location. However, this ability cannot be employed on the same target more than once.]
I didn’t get a bonus for rescuing the elves, he mused, his eyes narrowing in thought. Compared to the Florian situation, I guess I didn’t save enough for it to count. Is that it? His jaw tightened. No… there weren’t that many Florians either. But if there’s one glaring difference—and a grim one at that—it’s that Florians are on the brink of extinction. There are barely any left.
“So?” Lumielle began in a hushed tone, watching as the other children ran outside to play. “You said these girls were being held at that manor?”
Sister Aeliana and Lyndoria turned to Tiphanna, waiting for her response.
The elf nodded slowly, loathing the very notion. “That’s right. I received an anonymous tip from a credible source and have been trying to infiltrate and rescue the children ever since.
On the surface, they operate as a legitimate winery, but the truth is far more sinister. They’re involved in human trafficking, and I suspect this isn’t a recent endeavor—they’ve likely been profiting from this evil for quite some time.”
“Well,” Daisuke shrugged, recalling the fiery explosion that had consumed the manor. “They won’t be doing that again anytime soon… or ever again.”
Lumielle’s frown deepened, anger flashing in her eyes. “I’ll make sure they never get the chance to rebuild.”
“I’m curious though,” Daisuke said, cupping his chin. “Instead of being vague about the estate and making people suspicious, why not just state outright that it was a winery? Wouldn’t that kind of transparency attract more workers?”
Tiphanna shook her head, recalling her frequent—and unpleasant—encounters with the guards. “I think that was part of their strategy.”
Lyndoria frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The job listing may have been designed to target a specific type of person—someone accustomed to unlawful dealings, the kind who wouldn’t ask too many questions and are likely to stay quiet.”
Daisuke’s eyes narrowed. “Now that you mention it, the guild clerk was pretty insistent that I take another job. Most adventurers avoided it, too.”
“I’m relieved the children are finally free from that dreadful place,” Sister Aeliana said, though her frown remained heavy with concern. “But there’s another pressing matter we need to discuss.”
Brek’s expression mirrored her unease, a clear sign that he already had an idea of what was coming.
The nun and the blacksmith had come together through their shared devotion to aiding children in need. Their combined efforts led to the establishment of Twinkle Orphanage, where Sister Aeliana resided, personally tending to the children’s well-being, while Tiphanna took on the role of benefactor.
However, as the orphanage’s numbers swelled beyond what private funding could sustain, Sister Aeliana took it upon herself to seek royal assistance.
Regrettably, Lord Aurelius—the baron acting as the treasurer’s aide—recently ceased their funding. According to the man, with the looming war straining the kingdom’s resources, such aid had now been exclusively allocated to the Zepharion Church.
Lumielle, naturally, was appalled by this revelation.
“There is no need to blame yourself, Princess,” Sister Aeliana reassured her with a gentle smile. “His Majesty had been more than willing to support us. But now that he has fallen ill, it is the corrupt lords who have abandoned us to this fate.”
Lyndoria’s gaze softened with sorrow as she watched the princess silently brood. As a member of the royal family sworn to protect her people, there was no way she wouldn’t take this disgrace personally.
“Now that we have more children under our care,” Tiphanna chimed in, her tone laced with optimism, “the blacksmith should qualify for a few more tax exemptions.”
“Sure,” Josephine interjected, unimpressed. “But will that be enough to sustain us all—especially in the long run?”
Sister Aeliana slowly shook her head, her expression grim. “Unfortunately, no,” she admitted. “Brek and the others have been hunting Horned Rabbits to ease the burden, but they haven’t been able to gather enough to make a real difference.
And a few extra gold from tax exemptions won’t be nearly enough. With the looming war, the city has plunged into heavy inflation. The cost of living… is nothing like it was just a few weeks ago.”
“….”
A brief silence settled over the room, only to be shattered by Brek’s voice cutting through with a firm edge. Urgently, he shook off Ribbit and Garrett, who were still latched onto him, and strode over to his rival. His tawny brown eyes burned with unmistakable conviction.