The annals vary through different sources as there are various churches where the people of the world acquire their history. Despite this confusion, there is at least an absolute truth that everyone knows about the world.

 

Its name... is Erde, once home to powerful deities that the humans worship and call Gods, to which even their identities vary per religion. Some say they were the humans of the ruined Izan, some say they have no beginning and no end, and so on.

 

They, the gods, nourished their bubble for eons; filled it with diversity, safeguarded its beauty, gently shaped the continuities, and provided infinity to its grand space.

 

But one faithful day, creatures unbound by Time and Space appeared.

 

Dreaded creatures of the dark abyss, the Old Demons. They threatened the world's very existence. It is said that the Gods vanished along with the evils, constantly fighting it so that it may not disturb the peace in Erde, though no one knows when they'll return. Hell, some even think that they don't really exist, and for good reason.

 

Because after the Gods disappeared, the world was plunged into a constant state of war, a war between the creations of good and evil—the Mortals and the New Demons.

 

There are currently 6 recorded Great Wars in Erde, all of which Mortal-kind had won by a hair's breadth.

 

Except the 6th war, the recent one that happened almost a century ago.

 

In that brief span of time, Mortal-kind blamed each other and eventually isolated themselves to their respective sub-continents. Out of all the mortals, Humanity was the weakest.

 

This faction of mortal-kind created the Order of Purgers and Order of Guardians in order to fend off the anomalies.

 

"You were a purger, old man?" the girl pestered the smith, who answered her question with silence. The book she read had bored her as she already knew all the knowledge it held. What she wants is herself, even if just a part or a speck.

 

But this old man... he had been silent ever since she came out of his basement.

 

She gave him a number of questions, but he paid no heed to any of them.

 

It was possible that this kind of behavior was caused by doing nothing except eating and sleeping for the past 3 days. Though, even when she offered help, maybe do the dishes or sweep the entire house, the stubborn old man continued to shut her off.

 

"I hope your lips stay crusty until you speak!" she cursed him in her mind every time she got ignored.

 

Until finally, she lost it.

 

She showered the old man with incessant questions, like a child that just opened its eyes. She would ask even the most pointless of things, like how big his d*ck is and what not. Anything, just to gain a reaction.

 

And she succeeded.

 

"Do you not have anything better to do?" the smith grumbled. Clearly, he's had enough. His hammering intensified, but only with one stroke. To be calm, to be in control—this is his path.

 

To the girl, however, his response was nothing but good news.

 

"Oh, so you CAN speak!" she grinned. "Tell me, what can I do to repay you?"

 

"You can leave. The door is right there."

 

"How cruel!" the girl dramatically placed the back of her wrist on her forehead, mimicking a maiden in distress. She talked like one as well. "You would kick a defenseless girl out of your home? All alone on her own?"

 

"You killed a snapper with your bare-hands. You're more than capable of surviving by yourself."

 

"But I'm injured!"

 

"It's been 3 days."

 

The girl clicked her tongue. If it wasn't obvious, she disliked the idea of leaving. But other than that, she needs to know more about herself and where she currently is. Based on the various collections of maps she found last night at one of the old man's rooms, they are currently in Mt. Pendragosa, also known as the largest mountain in Germania. However, she doesn't exactly know where.

 

The past 3 days enabled her to try and recall some moments of her life. But, other than the fact that she used to live in the kingdom of Weiss, one of the largest kingdoms in Germania, only headaches came after.

 

So, the girl thought of diverting the topic.

 

"Didn't you said I made you shiver? What did you mean by that?"

 

The smith did not like the question. He stopped hammering for a moment, just to stare daggers at the girl.

 

"Come on, just tell me what I can do to stay!"

 

"LEAVE!"

 

"I would, but..." her shoulders drooped. "Where am I supposed to go?"

 

"Well, that does not sound like my problem, is it?"

 

The girl, tired from speaking with someone so... blunt, took a gander around the smithy. The actual house itself was small, tiny enough to make her suspect that the basement below was larger that the actual home. Still, the smithy occupied most of the space in the house.

 

There was a huge furnace that placed itself on the far end of the room where the smith worked. From all the flames it produced, she expected the room to feel hot, but she felt nothing of the sorts. Instead, the blaze flickering from its stove lit the room bright as day.

 

On the stone-bricked wall hung a vast array of weapons for all customers to see. Some were small, some were enormous, some were shaped in weird proportions; but no matter the weapon, anyone could tell with just one look at their glimmer that he was an excellent blacksmith.

 

Out of all the tools of war, however, a particular weapon caught her eye.

 

The girl approached the gigantic blade hanging on the wall, stared at it with sparkling eyes. It was a sword with a bright yellow hilt just as lengthy as the blade, which, despite being broken, was still humongous.

 

The girl turned to the smith, who was already glaring at her.

 

"... Don't you dare touch that." the old man who reeked of sweat warned before continuing his work.

 

But such threats did not work on the stubborn girl. When the smith turned around, the blade was already on her palms.

 

However, he wasn't mad, somehow. Instead, the smith was surprised.

 

"How did you-"

 

"I-I just lifted it! It's very light! I'll put it back!"

 

"L-light?" the old man scoffed, stuttered in disbelief. The very weapon that the girl was calling 'light', despite being broken, was well over 500 pounds. It once was thrice the length it currently is.

 

The old man vividly remembers he and his companions trying to lift it every night whenever they were drowning themselves with alcohol. A few lifted it, but they never dreamt of swinging it without snapping their waist.

 

Those were the good days.

 

"Girl..." the old man said grimly.

 

There was a question he'd been meaning to ask for a while now, but never really found the opportunity to say.

 

"Tell me girl-"

 

The girl is... strange—No, that may be an understatement. Ever since he brought her back to the forest, everything about her made no sense. He once dealt with the unknown, but the girl wasn't just an entity who he didn't know.

 

She-

 

"What... are you?"

 

- was someone he couldn't understand.

 

"What... am I?" the girl repeated, confused. She laughed at first. Does the old man still suspect her?

 

"I am-"

 

She is... what?

 

It was a question that sprouted even more questions.

 

Indeed, what is she?

 

She knew that she was human... but was she really? Even the old man who stood 6 and half-a-feet tall, someone who was much taller than the average human who can't even reach 6 feet, was dwarfed by her 7 foot stature.

 

But she... is human. She must be. It is only natural that one knows what she is. She had memories of living like one, although glimpses.

 

Yes, she is human.

 

Yet why can't she speak?

 

 

Their conversation was disturbed by the sharp knocks. Both of them turned to the door at the same time.

 

"You... have companions?" she turned to the old man, who stared warily at the door, unmoving.

 

The smith closed his eyes to feel the vicinity. He felt the girl's breath and the crackling of coal in his forge and the rats living in the holes of his basement scampering about as they stole bites of bread. He could feel through the door, where a hunchback stood.

 

Then he opened his eyes, looking like he'd seen a ghost. He was silent, never spoke a word. It disturbed the girl. He was always silent, yet this type of suffocating silence from him was a first.

 

"Hide in the basement." the old man suddenly whispered, sternly.

 

"What do you-"

 

"NOW!"

 

Driven by a sense of urgency, she quickly returned to the basement through a trapdoor.

 

 

"Companions, huh?" he whispered to himself. The word ringed in his head. It was a word he had already forgotten, yet at the very sound of it, rekindled a lost spark inside of him.

 

He closed his eyes, but wistfully this time.

 

In this quick moment, the girl... was fixated, almost drawn to the smith's expressions. He had this cold, tough demeanor around him all the time. Yet, in this one short instance, there was a glimpse of warmth and softness in his face, like fresh blood in cold snow.

 

 

When he opened his eyes, his gaze grew colder than before.

 

"All my companions are dead." he mumbled before approaching the door.

 

Mountains are, naturally, surrounded by trees which make up forests. Anomalies are inclined to nest themselves on vegetation just like animals do, so a denser forest means more anomalies.

 

The old man's cottage lies at the Blue Zone of Mt. Pendragosa, which is 500 meters away from the Green Zone or the foot of the mountain. Setting aside that his location is already dangerous, he lives in the largest mountain in Germania, which makes it the most dangerous. 

 

Moreover, the mountain forests get more dangerous as you approach the peak. To accurately depict the mountain's levels of danger, they created a system of layers divided by the colors of the rainbow in which red is the highest level. His cottage is also obscure— It is not known by anyone...

 

Except one.

 

 

"Greetings! It's me old frend, zee one and only, zee Owl!" a man with an owl mask greeted him with much enthusiasm. He wore the same outfit as the old man when he first met the girl in the forest. The old man's stoic face was reflected in the man's yellow lens, which hid sneering eyes behind it.

 

The old man and Owl stared contemptuously at each other. The environment turned heavy, pressured by ill-intent. An intense urge to run away hit the girl, but she had to stay, to know more.

 

"What do you want?" the blacksmith clearly didn't like the man's presence.

 

"Come on now, why so hostile, old frend?" Owl spoke in a hard accent. His hand gestured as he spoke. His tone was cheerful yet cheeky, and his back was crouched over as if he was the old one between the two. Despite this, he was as tall as the blacksmith.

 

Old friend? - the girl repeated the phrase in her mind.

 

The smith continued. "Tell me what you came here for and quick. I am busy."

 

"Yorr' no fun..." Owl sighed before continuing.

 

"Still stuck on that little... dispute we had? Hehehe! That was years ago, old frend! This is exactly why yorr' wrinkles multiply!" he patted the old man's shoulder playfully. "Thankfully, there is a remedy... Forgive! Smile! Laugh! Enjoy the moment, old friend! Hahaha!"

 

"... Go pester me on another time." the old man's scowl worsened. He glanced right through the trapdoor and into the girl. "I've got enough on my hands already."

 

"Hmm, you have a visitor?"

 

"Baggage." the old man quickly corrected him. "Just tell me what it is already."

 

"Hmm." Owl glanced at the trapdoor as well. "Don't worry! It's juzza moment!"

 

After Owl cried a horrifying screech, 2 other men wearing animal masks appeared. They handed him a piece of paper.

 

"Have yuu seen this gal?" he brought the paper to the old man's face. It was a portrait of a girl with glasses and extravagant clothes.

 

He (the blacksmith) stared at it for a short while, but then shook his head.

 

"No." he added bluntly. "Now leave."

 

As he was about to close the door, Owl stopped him with his foot.

 

"... WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

 

"Ah, so scary! Now, old frend, don't be so cold all the time! We just want a quick look around yorr' house. We get in, we rummage, then we go out! Simple, right?"

 

The old man sighed exasperatedly. Owl is, as the man said himself, an old acquaintance. He knows that if he refuses now, then they surely will trouble him extensively. The Order of the Purgers are a merciless bunch. Owl might look like a bucket of smiles, but he has seen many things the world wished to forget.

 

"... Be quick." the old man hesitantly stepped aside the doorway.

 

What? He let him in?—the girl gasped. Quickly, she descended into the basement, then into the room.

 

She looked around, desperately finding a place to hide herself in. However, there was nothing.

 

"God! Why am I so big!" she pulled her hair in frustration.

 

 

 

A moment of carelessness and panic; This was all it took for the girl to bump her head into a torch-holder fixed on the wall. She crashed with such force that it even bent a bit despite being cast iron.

 

"They... definitely heard that. Fuck." she reflexively held her forehead while she sat on the floor. Blood trickled in between her brows. It wasn't as hurtful as the bite of a snapper, but like crashing one's toe on a table leg, it was painful nonetheless.

 

Immediately, a set of footsteps, both heavy and fast, followed after her error. There was no time. Was there really no other way?

 

 

"Well, well, well!" Owl grinned. "Old frend, you should've told me you had company!"