The expedition team, buried under a thick layer of stone and rubble, digs themselves out with the Stoneweaver Dwarves' magic. As they make it out, they catch a glimpse of the sunlight streaming through the gaping hole in the ceiling.

"Is it over..?" Silvain asks, casting around for the Magma Wyrm.

"That or the fighting's moved to the land above," Golimar replies pragmatically.

"Let's hope it's not the latter. A behemoth like that, out and about in the outside world... I shudder to think of the consequences."

Golimar, using the last of his mana, makes a stairway up through the mouth of the volcano and leads his exhausted dwarven soldiers toward the surface. The elves follow close behind, more so worried for your wellbeing than the whereabouts of the behemoth.

"I hope the Garden Beast is safe..." Fidri clenches his single dagger.

"She is safe," Leronil tells him. "Without a shadow of a doubt. She has to be."

Celia and Grimdal nod, agreeing with the man's sentiments.

And when they all reach the top, the elves' faiths are rewarded, for you lay before them safe and uninjured.

"Nameless Seer!" they all happily sprint toward you, only to slow to a grinding halt upon registering your doleful expression. They then follow your wistful gaze and realize what has pulled your undivided attention.

Your farmhouse that sat atop the hill, is a farmhouse no more, as the powerful quakes from down below had reduced it to a pile of wood. Seeing the home you've known for decades cease to be, you are welled up with a plethora of emotions.

But instead of crying, instead of throwing a fit, you simply stare at the collapsed building as if to commit the image to memory.

"Garden Beast..." Leronil is the first to approach you.

Hearing his voice snaps you out of your sorrowful trance, and you look up at him with a lopsided grin. "A-ah, Leronil. Um... hey, I beat the wyrm..!"

"Mm. We know."

"O-oh, and as for the Fire Crystal..." you extend your palm and open it, revealing a small glowing red orb. "It shrunk after I defeated the monster. With this, we can save the dwarves' home!"

[Fire Crystal]

Description: A powerful stone imbued with the primordial element of fire.

Quality: Legendary

Weight: 0.2

"Mm..."

"Man, you should've seen it!" you exaggerate your excitement. "The beast kept smashing into the wall and stuff, and I clung to it with all my strength... Then, this ray of light shot out of Grimdal's sword and skewered the thing! It all happened so quickly, and, and..!"

"You needn't hide how you feel, Nameless Seer," Leronil says unto you.

Your arms go limp and your smile drops.

"It's not like I'm hiding anything," your tone is empty. "It's just... I don't know how to feel..."

And everyone in the area, while thankful for their survival, can't help but view this as a pyrrhic victory. They solemnly look on at the ruins of your quaint little farmhouse, paying their respects in silence.

The compound had become a box of palisades defending nothing.

When you return home to Elderwood Village, the elves and dwarven workers, who patiently awaited your arrival with bated breath, shower you with cheers and praise. And replacing your grief was a warmth beyond description.

A celebration was to be held throughout the village streets, and the dwarves were invited as well. The elves, in their usual fashion, swiftly set up stalls, chairs, tables, and festive lighting, and prepared all manner of food and drink.

Though the dwarves could not understand a word these pointy-eared folk said, they happily participated in the merrymaking, as revelry was an act that transcended culture.

Characteristically, Golimar was the first to drink himself into a stupor. The dwarven champion wildly danced and told jokes in broken elvish. It was truly a sight to behold.

Grimdal, Celia, Fidri, and Leronil all enjoy themselves in their own ways, leaving you alone to party by yourself.

And you currently stand on the grassy sidewalk, alongside Silvain, watching the elves and dwarves carouse the night away.

"You're not going to join them?" the man asks you, equipped with another plain white mask.

"I'm not too keen on making an ass of myself," you say in reference to Golimar. "Besides, I'm really not in the mood."

"I see. I too am not a fan of large gatherings."

"Heh, you sound like Grimdal..."

"Grimdal..?

"The old guy with the eyepatch."

"Oh, him. From what I can tell, he's quite the straight-laced fellow."

"You'll get used to it. He's surprisingly laid-back once you get to know him."

"I suppose those types of people exist regardless of race, huh."

From among the crowd, you spot the injured sentry from the dwarves' skirmish. The elf jauntily drinks alongside a couple of dwarves, and it is a scene that fills your heart with gladness.

"People are strange..." you think to yourself out loud.

"I get you. I'm a diplomat, and I have yet to fully grasp why people act the way they do."

"Maybe that vague understanding we have of others is what makes them so appealing... You learn something new about them every day."

"Hm... mayhaps. I do this for the gold though, so that appeal is lost on me."

Both of you stay quiet for a while, letting the hubbub drown out your thoughts. Then, Silvain turns to you.

"At any rate, I have to thank you for helping us secure the Fire Crystal," he pulls out the red marble, wrapped in a handkerchief. "You should come over and visit the Stoneweaver Dwarves' city after today. The king will have a mighty fine reward in store for you, and the populous will no doubt hail you as their savior. Heck, I'm pretty sure they'll write stories about you for generations to come."

"E-eh? Seriously?"

"You did save their volcano from dying out. So, what do you say?"

You briefly ponder his question, only to remember the answer you've held for a long time. "Sorry, but I won't be here for long."

"Oh? "

"As much as I'd like to visit, I'm planning on leaving this region for a while. I want to explore the parts of this world I've not seen before. Scorching deserts, freezing tundras, deep blue oceans, and the many cities and villages... I want to see them all."

"Ah... is it because your home got destroyed back there?"

"I was planning on leaving even before that. Now I have another reason to go."

"Understandable. Have you told your friends yet?"

"I..."

You wrestle with your conscience before a familiar voice beckons you from across the street.

"Hey, Garden Beast!" Celia waves at you with Fidri by her side. "Let's stop by the bar for a bit and get bombed!"

"Right on cue," Silvain recognizes the woman as one of these friends of yours. "Well, I'm certain you'll have plenty of time to break the news to them."

"S-sorry, I have to go now..!" you say as you jog toward the pair of elves.

"By the way!"

"Yeah?!" you turn around to face the masked man.

"I never did catch your name!" his words trigger a sense of déjà vu. "The elves probably say it all the time, but I'm not the best at speaking their language, you know?"

As you are reminded of Darius, you can't help but chuckle. "Nameless Seer. The name's Nameless Seer."

"Huh. Oddly familiar. And familiarly odd," Silvain scratches his head. "Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Nameless Seer. The Stoneweaver Dwarves welcome you any time! I'll also show that healing potion of yours to my superiors, so keep up your craft!"

"Yeah, yeah, hope you make some money off of it too."

"Haha! You betcha!"

And with that, you part ways with the masked man named Silvain and regroup with the elves who aren't entirely aware of your decision to part ways with them soon.

When you jog up to Celia, you notice the boy beside her redder than an apple. He fidgets about and keeps his eyes on his feet.

"Um... Fidri..?" you check on the usually-rambunctious elf out of concern.

"T-t-they were so..." he breathily stutters under his breath with a blank countenance. "T-t-they were so..!"

"Don't bother with him Garden Beast," Celia responds on his behalf. "There's no communicating with idiots."

You have a fuzzy idea of what had transpired between the two, and decide not to pry further.

And the three of you head to the inn where Leronil awaits. The place is as rowdy as ever, especially with the addition of dwarven patrons.

"Oi, Celia!" Leronil scolds the woman. "Where were you?! I've been waiting for an hour!"

"Shut up! I was busy looking for the Garden Beast amid the festivities! It was like finding a needle in a haystack, cut me some slack!"

"That's why I sent Fidri with you, so you could split up and locate her faster. This town is only so big!"

"Whatever! Since you're footing the bill tonight, I'm ordering five barrels of mead!"

"Like hell you are! Hey, Fidri, can you talk some sense into her?!"

The boy is unresponsive, which also leads Leronil to worry for him.

"F-Fidri..?" he tries getting his attention, to no avail.

"Ah! Speaking of Fidri, have any of you encountered Anya recently? I haven't seen her in a good while," Celia nonchalantly changes the subject.

You mull over it, before also realizing something. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I don't see the Mystfox as often anymore. He's also been pretty moody as of late."

"Seriously?! Anya's also been kinda out of it. I thought it was because of her injury, but that's been healed for a while now..."

"True... I don't know what's gotten into those two. They're still pretty close though, all things considered."

You and Celia furrow your brows as the issues become apparent. It is only when the drinks arrive do you forget about them quickly.

"Oi! Who ordered this much mead!" Leronil gapes at a whopping 15 bottles of Elderwood Mead.

"Ehehe... don't mind if I do!" Celia greedily hoards them.

"You walnut-brained drunkard! You better not drink all of that!"

"Calm down, I'm splitting this with Nameless Seer! Right?" she winks at you.

You nervously look at the sheer number of booze on the table. "I-I should drop my things off at my room, in case I get too tipsy."

And you hastily retreat to the upstairs where your room resides. The creaky floorboards leading up to the accommodations, while initially annoying, do grow on you the longer you stay here. When you approach your lodging though, you notice your door has been opened already.

"Oh, is the Mystfox home?" you wonder to yourself.

It is only when you gently step into the room, do you bear witness to a dreadful sight.

Anya and the Mystfox lie unconscious on the ground, both on the cusp of death.

???

Mystfox [♂]

Level: 112

HP: 786/1250000

Anya

Wood Elf [♀]

Level: 18

HP: 57/4250

"What... happened here..?" you drop to your knees, horrified.