Nemi and Wynstelle walked together to the inn. Wynstelle glanced around, smiling as if she had finally found the path to her journey, while Nemi walked beside her, memories flashing in her mind. Out of missions, it was just a celebration, with the Phantom title kept secret. Nemi walked alongside Leona, who was drunk.
"Oii, Nemi! Why can't you be a bit more human, huh?!" Leona slurred, barely keeping her balance. Nemi remained silent. The words didn't offend her—she didn't even understand what it meant to be "human".
"Oii, Nemi! Look at me!" Leona stopped and demanded attention. Nemi turned to look at Leona…Leona's face was covered in scribbles. A sharp headache hit Nemi, snapping her back to reality."What was that?" she murmured. "Who was that?"
...
They arrived in front of the inn's door."This is the inn!" Wynstelle exclaimed, smiling. Nemi shifted her gaze from the door to Wynstelle's face. An unsettling feeling began to grip her heart. In an instant, she looked down at the ground."Mm."
Wynstelle noticed the shift and frowned, confused by Nemi's avoidance. She brushed it aside with a smile, reaching for Nemi's hand and leading her inside. The inn was quiet, with only a single young girl at the reception desk. At the back of the reception desk, there was a tavern where all the people sat and ate.
"One room for two, please!" Wynstelle requested at the reception desk.
"Yes! That will be 10 Silver Sol!" the receptionist replied quickly with a wide smile.
"10 Si—That's expensive for an inn!" Wynstelle reacted, her smile turning into a look of shock.
"Yes, it's because this inn offers more noble-like rooms," the receptionist said, her face showing a mischievous, blinding smile. Wynstelle, with a deadpan expression, handed over the 10 Silver Sol. They walked upstairs to the room, which was quite lavish, but Wynstelle maintained her deadpan expression.
"W-well, it's expensive, but I guess we've secured a room..." she muttered.
"Mm," Nemi replied.
"But before we settle in, I think you can order food downstairs, like at a restaurant. Shall we eat first? I only ate bread today, so I think I want something to fill my belly," Wynstelle said.
"Mm," Nemi responded. They put down their belongings—Nemi's only possession was a large stick she used as a weapon—before heading downstairs to eat. They sat at the counter, and Wynstelle, without hesitation, excitedly called out.
"Chef! Can I order something?" she asks eagerly.
"Of course, what would you like me to prepare?" the chef, dressed in an elegant outfit, responds professionally.
"Stew! Preferably with some meat!" Wynstelle answers without hesitation.
"And for this young lady?" the chef turns to Nemi.
"Bread," Nemi responds without a second thought.
"Of course, we have various types of bread. What kind of bread would you—"
"Bread." Nemi interrupts, not even looking at the chef.
The chef immediately bows. "Understood, please wait a moment."
The chef walks to the kitchen to prepare their meal.
While they were waiting, Wynstelle broke the silence between them
"Nemi, so you're a quiet type, huh?" Wynstelle asks, her curiosity piqued.
Nemi remains silent, staring at her hand on the table.
Before she could ask more, the chef returned with a plate in his hands."One Naveiachet stew and two Beugeveleite breads." The chef elegantly placed the plate in front of Nemi and Wynstelle, serving their orders with care. Wynstelle eagerly dug into the stew, the rich aroma filling the air as she took her first bite. Her eyes widened, the flavours bursting in her mouth, far from what she had expected from a humble inn. The taste was quite exquisite, unlike anything she had had before, and she paused, her spoon hovering in mid-air.
"Wait a second…" She stared at the stew in disbelief, then glanced up at the chef, who was standing behind the counter with a subtle, knowing smile. "This… this tastes good! It's way better than anything I've had back home!"
The chef, who was wiping his hands on a cloth, chuckled softly. "Ah, well, I do try my best." Wynstelle leaned forward, completely intrigued. "Wait… are you a professional? I mean, this is so good. Where did you learn to cook like this? Even the chef at my home can't cook like this!"The chef smiled, a touch of pride flickering in him as he responded."I spent many years serving the royal family before retiring," he said with a hint of nostalgia in his voice."It was an honour, but I decided to settle down with my wife and open a place like this. Now, I cook for the people who appreciate good food."
Wynstelle's jaw dropped slightly in surprise."The royal family!? O-ooo-oh! I knew the food here was good, but I didn't realize we were being served by royalty's former chef!" She let out a small laugh, her face lighting up with admiration. "Ah~, if only I can eat like this every day."
The chef simply nodded, smiling humbly. "I just try to do my best, no matter the audience."
Wynstelle, still amazed, took another spoonful of the stew, savoring it with a renewed appreciation. "Well, you're definitely cooking with this skill! I might never want to leave this place."
Nemi was still focused on her bread, took in the brief exchange, but said nothing. Her attention drifted, as usual, to the quiet and the simplicity of the moment.
Nemi's mind drifted far into a memory she once had, reminding herself of the scene where the figure of that "mother" stood before her, handing her the bread. But it hadn't felt real to her—almost as if, all this time, it had been just a dream.
As Nemi finished another bite of bread, Wynstelle shifted slightly in her seat, trying to break the silence, her fingers tapping the table rhythmically.
"Um.." Wynstelle said lightly, her tone casual but laced with curiosity,"Nemi, how old are you exactly?"
Nemi didn't look up, her eyes still on her bread."Dunno."
"Eh?" Wynstelle was surprised slightly, unsure of what Nemi had just said.
"So, where are you from? How did you get here?" She leaned back, scanning Nemi's expression, waiting for any sign of emotion.
"You don't talk much, do you?" Nemi just took another bite of bread, chewing slowly. "Solstice land."
"Solstice, what? That sounds like this continent's currency," Wynstelle answered, not knowing where that was.
She then continued the conversation.
"Did something happen to you?" Wynstelle asked softly, more to herself than to Nemi. "You seem like you've been through a lot."
Nemi remained silent for a long moment. The soft clinking of plates in the background filled the space between them. Nemi's expression was unreadable, but she simply kept her silence.
Wynstelle nodded as if understanding, though the silence still lingered.
"I see," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Not everyone's ready to talk about their past."She paused, trying again.
"But hey, you don't have to talk. I'm just glad you teamed up with me. Even if you're quiet."
Nemi's gaze briefly flickered to Wynstelle's face, then back down to her bread. She didn't say anything.
Wynstelle let out a small sigh, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as she watched Nemi's stoic demeanor.
"Well, I suppose that's one way to put it... 'Mm.'" She mimicked Nemi's non-committal response, smiling faintly. "Guess we'll just keep eating in silence then."
Nemi's lips twitched for a second—almost imperceptibly—but she didn't answer. Instead, she focused on her bread, content in the simplicity of the moment, the quiet stretching between them like an unspoken understanding.
After a while, Wynstelle, sitting beside her, had just taken a sip of water when she noticed something strange—someone approaching. A rough-looking mercenary thug, unsteady on his feet, swayed towards them with a smirk plastered on his face and a knife on his belt. His clothes were worn, his breath reeked of alcohol, and his eyes lingered a little too long on Wynstelle's outfit.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" the thug slurred, a lazy grin stretching across his face as he eyed Wynstelle's adventurer's attire.
"A fancy little adventurer, huh? Think you're too good for us, huh?"
Wynstelle tensed, instinctively pulling her shoulder back. "Can you go away? I don't want any trouble," she said quietly, trying to remain calm.
The thug ignored her, stepping closer. His voice grew louder, and a couple of his friends began to laugh in the background, as if they knew where this was going. "You think you're special, eh?" He grabbed hold of her collar aggressively, pulling her forward, and the fabric strained under his grip. "You look like you've got some money. Maybe I should take a closer look at what you're carrying."
Wynstelle's breath caught, and she looked to Nemi, her hand struggling to push away the thug's arms. "Nemi… help—" she whispered, her voice barely audible, her eyes pleading.
But Nemi didn't respond. She continued eating her bread, as if the entire scene didn't exist. Her mind drifted, lost in distant memories, the sounds around her muted and unimportant. The only thing that remained was the texture and flavor of her bread, anchoring her in this fleeting moment of peace.
The thug, seeing no reaction from Nemi, started laughing. "Hey! Your friend is being assaulted here, lady! What about giving her a hand? Or are you scared, can't even respond to me?" He raised his voice, and his grip tightened around Wynstelle's collar.
While Wynstelle was slowly reaching for her wand in her pocket, but before he could escalate, another thug joined the scene. He was taller, more imposing, and clearly enjoying the spectacle. "What's this? A little quiet one?" he snickered, crossing his arms as he watched Nemi from across the room. "You really gonna let her do that to your friend?"
The first thug, emboldened by the backup, shoved Wynstelle back against the counter. Her breath was sharp. But Nemi remained unmoved. Her gaze stayed steady on her bread, and she chewed slowly, unhurried, lost in her own thoughts.
The thugs grew agitated, their patience thinning. "Oh? So you do have gut, eh?" he growled, his anger building as he turned to Nemi. "Let me wake you up then!"
He stormed forward and, without warning, "BAM!", he punched Nemi in the back of the head.
The sound of the punch echoed through the room. The thugs snickered, thinking they had broken the silence.
Wynstelle let out a sharp gasp, still held by the collar. "Nemi—!"
No response.
"S-sir, please don't cause any trouble!" The chef tried to stop things from getting even worse.
"HUH?! The fuck are you talking to me?!"The chef hesitated. The other patrons shrank back into their seats, looking away. No one dared to interfere.
And then slowly, deliberately, she raised her head and stood up. Her movements were eerily calm, too controlled, as if the situation didn't faze her. She turned around, her gaze empty, yet the air grew unnaturally heavy.
The thug who punched her took a step back, eyes widening just a fraction as the coldness in Nemi's expression sank in."Oh? Now you are finally facing me? Eh?" he sneered, forcing a laugh.
He drew a blade from his hip.
"So, young lady, I will teach you what happens when you pissed me off like that!"
He then raised his sword and swung it downwards towards Nemi with a smile on his face.
At that moment, everything seemed to slow down. Nemi locked her gaze on the thug. Wynstelle was shocked the moment the thug drew his sword, the chef still hesitated about what to do, and the others just tried to look away.
But the moment he blinked, a wooden chair cracked against his face. He stumbled, eyes squeezed shut from the impact.
That's when Nemi moved.
In a single flowing motion, she stepped in—her fingers locking around his wrist. She twisted with perfect form: Kotegaeshi. His arm snapped backward unnaturally, and the sword clattered from his hand.
Before the weapon hit the ground, Nemi spun low—her body tucked tight—then she swept his legs out from under him with a sharp, low kick.
The thug's world flipped.
As he fell backward, time seemed to slow. All he saw was Nemi with no expression, aiming her punch at his gut.
And then—boom—she slammed her fist downward in a signature finishing move.
Only… it landed soft.
A dull tap.
The thug opened one eye in confusion. Her strength—what happened? He barely felt it.Nemi noticed the weakness in her punch; she took the sword she had just disarmed from the man and prepared to bury it into his head.
Just before the plunge, a flash of light erupted from the side—BOOM!The thugs pinning Wynstelle were blasted across the room, slamming into the wall with a thunderous crash. Dust and chairs were scattered.
Wynstelle breathed heavily, holding her wand out, trembling slightly, eyes locked on Nemi.
Nemi's sword hung in the air.
The pinned thug wriggled weakly beneath her.
"NEMI!! STOP!!"
Nemi froze. The sword halted, an inch from his throat.
A beat passed.
She exhaled through her nose. Dropped the blade. Then, without a word, she kicked the thug's head sideways, knocking him out cold.
"Understood," Nemi replied as if it were an order.
She turned her back and walked away, returning to their room.
Wynstelle, sitting on the floor and supporting her body with her arms while still trying to catch her breath, looked at Nemi and then walked upstairs.
"Well, I guess she can fight… haha…" Wynstelle gave a faint laugh as she brought her gaze to the floor."But, what am I supposed to do now?" She sighed as she looked at the thugs who were unconscious.
She then stood up, facing the chef, and they both let out a small sigh.
"Shall we call the knight?" Wynstelle suggested to the chef.
"Yes, but I can't trouble you more. Please let me handle it," the chef answered.
"Thank you, so I'll leave it to you. My head hurts using magic like that suddenly…" Wynstelle said, placing her hand on her forehead as a dull pain throbbed behind her eye.
On the other side, Nemi walked upstairs, her mind wandering over her strength."Why am I so weak? What's happening to me?"
As she looked at her palm, her vision blurred, and everything she saw started to split into two. She blinked, but the picture refused to sharpen. She fell to her knees, her hands barely supporting her body; her ears started ringing loudly. Her head began to hurt, her vision spun until she fell to the ground, and slowly, everything turned dark.
...
"Nemi!"...
"Nemi!"...
"NEMI!"
Nemi returned to her senses as she heard her name called out loud. She raised her gaze to see Leona ready to slap her, though she wore a mask with a straight yellow visor.
"Huh?" Nemi was shocked.
"The fuck you spacing out for?! Shoot!!" Leona raised her voice angrily at Nemi's negligence.
"Hu-? Ah! Y-Yes!" Nemi answered with hesitation.
As she raised her rifle, pointing at the charging mutant, her scope followed its head with precision, and as her finger was about to pull the trigger, it stopped.
"Eh?" She immediately looked at the trigger; she couldn't pull it. Her finger trembled—she couldn't move even though the mutant was close.
As the mutant jumped closer, its mouth wide open, ready to bite, Nemi looked down at her shaking hands holding the rifle. Her heart pounded fast in her chest.
Then, in a sudden flash, everything changed. She found herself standing on a rusty metal floor, cold and dirty beneath her feet. Blood slowly dripped down around her. She looked up and saw a headless person wearing a dark suit with the number "002" on the shoulder, covered in blood.
She fell to her knees, breathing hard. Her vision started to glitch, breaking apart like a broken screen.
Until everything suddenly turns blue. Her breath slowed, and her vision blurred, but it's calming. Then slowly, everything turns back dark.
After what felt like hours of slumber, she woke up to see an unfamiliar ceiling. Although unfamiliar ceilings were a regular occurrence for her, this time the ceiling looked far too clean—like she was sleeping in a paid hotel room. (Which she was.)
The room was bright, the windows were open, and she could hear birds chirping outside.
She raised her body and looked around. She was lying on a bed. Another bed was beside her, but no one was there.
She then checked her body. She was wearing her tank top and underwear, and her clothes were folded neatly beside the bed. On top of the folded clothes lay a red necklace.
"Is this Wynstelle's necklace?"
Nemi then put on her clothes and her cloak, slipping the necklace into her left pocket while sitting on the bed. As she dressed, she started wondering, "Come to think of it, I don't remember wearing these clothes when I woke up here." She thought curiously, "I wonder who put them on me."
She then stood by the window next to her bed to see if she was sensitive to the light. As she looked outside, reality hit her. The sounds of people talking, walking, and laughing filled the air, mixed with the sight of archaic buildings. She didn't think much of the buildings at first, but when the feelings hit her, she understood—this was nowhere near the places she knew. People seemed quite happy around her, as if there was no apocalypse happening.
She stepped outside, the morning air cool against her skin as she made her way toward the bathroom. Her steps were steady but cautious — she subtly tested her balance with each one, noting the slight stiffness in her legs but no sign of dizziness.
Inside the bathroom, she stood before the mirror. The same face stared back at her — tired eyes, a faint bruise along her temple, but otherwise unchanged.
She leaned in, studying her pupils. Equal. Round. Reactive. Nothing unusual.
With a deep breath, she splashed cold water onto her face, the shock of it clearing away the last traces of sleep.
She headed downstairs.
In the dining area, Wynstelle was already at the table, chatting cheerfully with the chef between bites of fresh bread. Laughter hung lightly in the air, the scent of breakfast warm and comforting.
"Ah, Nemi! You're awake!" Wynstelle, with a faint sign of relief after seeing Nemi.
"Ah... yes.." Nemi answered Wynstelle as she avoided her gaze.
Wynstelle stopped and showed a faint smile.
As Nemi approached, the chef immediately put a plate and bread on Nemi's table.
"I didn't ask for this", Nemi bluntly tried to reject the offer.
"It's service, please take it as a thanks from yesterday," the chef answers her.
"Ah.. I see" Nemi accepts the offer from the chef.
She sat down to eat her breakfast. As she was eating, Wynstelle asked, "So... are you okay?"
"Eh?" Nemi answers with confusion "What you mean?" She asked.
"I saw you collapse on the floor in the hallway upstairs last night", Wynstelle gives a worried look. But as always, Nemi avoids her gaze. "I think that punch last night cause you to fall", Wynstelle says while looking at Nemi.
"Ah, uhm. I'm fine now, there is no apparent damage to my body.." Nemi answered her with a faint hesitation and robotic voice.
Wynstelle then smiled upon hearing that she said, "I see"
"But you need to be careful next time!" Wynstelle, from being relieved, suddenly shifted her tone to anger. "Like, you should look around, I know you can fight, but that doesn't mean you can ignore them!"
Nemi was eating, but kept her eyes away. This time, she is avoiding her.
And like that, Wynstelle kept scolding her.