They stepped out of the Moonlight Cat guild building.
The crisp morning air greeted them, no longer as alien as before. The once pitch-black sky now faded into deep blue, tinged with faint orange light creeping over the eastern horizon.
The oil lamps that had illuminated the streets were being extinguished one by one, replaced by the hesitant glow of dawn filtering through the city's buildings.
The distant chirping of small birds filled the air. The scent of dew and damp earth lingered.
"...It's morning already," Arata murmured, gazing at the brightening sky.
The others turned toward the first light as well.
They hadn't slept. Hadn't eaten. Hadn't figured out where to go next.
Yet strangely—no one complained.
Ren closed his eyes briefly, feeling the warmth of sunlight slowly piercing through the thin mist.
This world was still foreign. Still full of danger.
But at least…
They weren't walking alone anymore.
And on that morning, beneath the first sky that welcomed them as new adventurers in Midgard—a sky tinged with soft crimson, with winds carrying the scent of dew—five Lost Children stood at the edge of the cobblestone street, watching the world stir awake.
"Let's get some food first," Kiel said, stretching his arms, his face brighter than the night before. "Loki gave us ten silver each, right? So… why not celebrate a little?"
Clara immediately bounced on her toes, her braids swaying. "Agreed! I could eat a whole table if needed!"
Lina smiled faintly, though her expression remained composed. "As long as you don't spend all your money, Clara…"
"Hahaha! Well, if it's delicious… maybe going a little overboard isn't so bad?" Clara laughed.
Arata patted Kiel's shoulder. "You know how to keep spirits up. I like that."
Ren stayed silent for a moment, staring at the silver coins in his palm. The first money he had ever held in this world. Light… yet somehow precious.
They walked along the city's main street, slowly filling with merchants setting up stalls, the creaking of cart wheels, and the aroma of freshly baked bread from small bakeries lining the road.
Eventually, they found a modest diner at a stone street corner, its wooden sign reading *"Warm Breakfast – Country Flavor."* The rich scent of broth wafted from its wide-open door.
"This place looks cheap… and good," Arata remarked, inhaling the tempting aroma.
Without much discussion, they entered.
Inside, the diner was simple—long wooden tables, small round stools, and a middle-aged woman smiling at them from behind the counter.
"Good morning~! Here for a meal for five?"
They all nodded.
Soon, steaming bowls of soup filled with meat and vegetables were served alongside warm wheat bread. Thin wisps of steam rose from the bowls, carrying a savory aroma that eased their hearts.
"...This looks good," Ren murmured softly.
Clara had already clasped her hands together. "I'm digging in!"
Kiel took a spoonful and immediately exclaimed, "Damn… this is better than I imagined!"
Lina ate quietly, though her expression softened slightly. Arata seemed to savor his meal without much chatter, but from the way he chewed slowly… he was clearly grateful.
Ren stared at the bowl before him, then began eating.
The soup was simple, yet comforting. As if it seeped into his weary body, filling the emptiness he had carried since awakening.
For a moment… he forgot this world was dangerous.
Forgot he didn't know who he was.
Forgot he was a Lost Child.
All that remained was the quiet laughter of his new companions… and a warm bowl of food.
---
The mood at the table slowed as their plates neared emptiness. The scent of warm broth gradually gave way to the aroma of the last toasted bread and the morning breeze drifting through a small window in the corner of the diner.
Ren looked at his empty bowl, then raised his gaze to his new companions.
"So," he began quietly, "what will you all do after this?"
A simple question. But for them—who had just been thrown into a foreign world with no direction—it was the beginning of everything.
Arata set down his spoon and leaned back in his chair.
"I'll probably head to the priest training grounds," he answered with a small sigh. "Somehow… I feel drawn there."
Clara, still chewing the last of her bread, raised her hand excitedly. "Me… hmm, I wanna try the Thief and Ranger training! I like moving fast. Sounds fun being the quickest in the group!"
Lina lifted her gaze slowly, as composed as ever. "I'll go to the magic tower. For some reason… the word 'Magician' feels familiar."
Kiel grinned, lightly thumping his chest. "Me? Of course, I'm becoming a Swordsman! No other path for me but fighting on the frontlines!"
Ren listened to each of them.
These four people… each had a direction beginning to take shape. Small steps toward what might become their identities in this world.
He looked down at his own hands.
And wondered—where would his steps lead him?
But before he could answer, all eyes turned to him, waiting for the unspoken words.
Ren felt it—Clara's warm, curious gaze, Lina's calm and sharp stare, Kiel's confident smile still brimming with energy, and Arata's firm, silent look… as if urging him to choose with conviction.
Ren lowered his head briefly. His fingers slowly curled around the small metal plaque hanging from his belt. It was still cold… and somehow, it felt heavy now.
He recalled Loki's explanation from last night—about classes, about jobs, and how this world wasn't a place to stand still.
"I…" Ren began, his voice soft but clear enough to make the others fall silent and listen.
"...I don't know yet."
No one mocked him. No one complained.
Ren lifted his face slowly, meeting each of their eyes.
"All those choices… feel foreign. But also intriguing. I want to see them first. Understand them before deciding."
He took a deep breath, then continued.
"Sorry if that sounds hesitant. But I want to make sure… that the choice I make is truly mine."
A brief silence filled the air, but then—
"That's fine," Clara said with a bright smile. "If you're not sure yet, no need to rush! The world isn't going anywhere."
Arata nodded slowly. "Better that than regretting it later."
"Then," Lina said, standing from her chair, "we'll meet again after class training. May we all return in one piece… with something new to share."
Ren nodded quietly.
One by one, they stood, leaving the table—each stepping toward different paths in a world they still didn't fully understand.
And Ren?
He remained seated just a little longer. Gazing out the diner's window, where the morning sun now illuminated the dew-damp cobblestone streets.
There was still time. Still paths to see.
And before this day ended…
He would choose.
---
Not long after his four companions departed in different directions, Ren finally rose from his seat. He exhaled deeply, glancing at the empty cup still carrying the lingering warmth of broth, before turning and stepping out of the diner.
As the wooden door closed behind him, the morning light welcomed him with a gentleness that slowly chased away the last remnants of night's chill. A soft breeze carried the scent of baked bread and burning firewood from nearby homes.
Ren began walking.
This city… was called Crossroads.
A simple-sounding name, yet profound—a junction. A meeting place. A point of departure.
The stones forming the streets looked worn yet sturdy, marked by cart wheels, boot prints, and countless rains. To either side, small shops were opening: weapon vendors, herbal remedy stalls, breakfast stands, and children running with baskets of apples.
Yet beneath this slowly awakening life… there was an unseen, yet palpable pressure.
Crossroads was no ordinary town.
It was the last city of the Althena Kingdom—the kingdom of humankind. A frontier settlement standing directly on the frontlines, facing threats from beyond the towering mountain range that loomed like a natural wall hiding something ominous.
Beyond those mountains—lay the domain of darkness. Where monsters dwelled, and from where invasions came. Every winter… attacks could strike. And every spring… blood would flow on the battlefield once more.
That was why this city wasn't built just for living.
But for enduring.
Ren walked slowly along the main street, observing every face he passed—some filled with determination, some bearing scars, and others simply struggling to survive.
Against his chest, his novice adventurer's plaque hung beneath the tattered cloak given by the guild. No one knew his name. No one greeted him.
Yet his footsteps held no hesitation.
He still didn't know where he was going.
But for the first time,
Ren walked not because he was told to…
…but because he chose to move forward.