On the eastern edge of the continent lies a small village named Taro. With only a few hundred residents, it is so remote that even merchant caravans only visit once every few months. Recently, however, this quiet corner of the world has become exceptionally lively because of an outsider.
Ever since the hunting party brought back the carcass of the Cirrus Lion, the village chief—a man over a hundred years old and the most knowledgeable person in the village—had taken the lion-slaying hero into his home.
The chief had spent a long time as an adventurer before retiring to this small village to enjoy his later years. After learning about the man's situation, he spent a considerable amount of time carefully searching his memories.
Despite his decades of experience and knowledge, he could not identify the man's origins, nor could he extract any more useful information from the man's own descriptions.
After much deliberation, the old chief had no choice but to accept the reality: this silver-haired man had indeed lost all his memories.
To make things easier, the old chief gave the silver-haired man a name—Midir, meaning “Meteor.” In the Common Tongue, it symbolized his sudden and mysterious arrival, much like a falling star.
At the same time, the chief arranged for him to settle into an empty house in the village, deciding to wait until a merchant caravan passed through before making any further plans.
...
The silver-haired Midir sat by the door of his log cabin, staring blankly at the blue sky. Since that day, he had been trying hard to organize his memories, but he still had no lead.
It wasn't until after countless attempts that he finally gave up on the idea.
Instead, during these days of doing nothing, he had become a major celebrity in Taro Village.
The story of how he had taken down a high-level magical beast with a single strike that day was passed around by the young hunters, growing more legendary with every telling.
The young children viewed him as an omnipotent hero, constantly coming to him to ask all sorts of questions.
Meanwhile, the young women and wives of the village looked at his perfect face and unique aura with fluttering hearts. They were constantly stopping by to deliver food, clothing, and daily necessities.
Wave after wave of people would block the entrance to his small cabin until the village chief issued an ultimatum, ordering everyone to stop staring at him like he was some rare animal.
“Sir Midir, look, look! What do you think of the new weapon I made from the Cirrus Lion's tooth?”
It was Shaq—the very person Midir had “borrowed” the dagger from to slay the Cirrus Lion.
He was currently striding toward the cabin, holding a white hunting knife. Over the past few days, he had been dropping by whenever he had a spare moment, and the two had gradually become well-acquainted.
“Let me see it.”
Midir didn't stand on ceremony. He reached out and took the short blade. Since materials like magical beast teeth couldn't be melted in a furnace like metal, they had to be ground into shape bit by bit, making them extremely difficult to craft.
The hunting knife felt as smooth and warm as jade in his hand, but the sharpened edge glinted with a cold light.
“It's a good blade. You put a lot of heart into this, didn't you? However, the handle still needs a bit more polishing; it feels a little rough. Or you could just replace the hilt entirely.”
Midir commented on the weapon while reflecting on the fleeting sensation he had felt when facing the Cirrus Lion.
During this period of peaceful life, he had been unable to replicate that move. Even though many young men had come to him with high hopes to ask for guidance, he couldn't provide them with an answer.
“Understood, Sir Midir. I actually came to bring a message from the chief. He wants you to visit him later; he says he has something very important to discuss with you. I'll head back and change the hilt to see if I can make it perfect.”
After receiving the positive evaluation, Shaq bowed to Midir and hurried away excitedly, clutching his new hunting knife.
“I wonder what the chief wants?”
Midir greeted the passing villagers as he walked, carrying a basket of fruit given to him by a young girl. He strolled leisurely to the other end of the village and knocked on the chief's door.
Before long, the chief opened the door and warmly invited Midir inside.
On the usually clean and tidy floor sat a box about a meter square, still stained with fresh soil. Midir looked at the box, which was made of an unknown metal, and asked.
“Chief, is there something you need? Is it because of this?”
“Midir, you've been here for nearly a month now. You've been doing well, haven't you? Come, come, sit down... Listen to a story first.”
The chief didn't answer him directly. Instead, he brushed the dust off his clothes and sat down in a chair.
“Alright, I'm listening,” Midir said, sitting down across from the box and looking at the serious-faced chief.
“My real name is Saki. I used to be a mercenary and an adventurer. Back when I was still a rookie, I also dreamed of achieving great things. Later, I participated in a massive war.”
“Of course, back then, I didn't have the ability to fight on the battlefield; I was just an ordinary logistics soldier. The fighting at the front was incredibly fierce; the whole world seemed to turn dark. At the time, I truly believed the end of the world had come.”
“On that battlefield, a massive magical beast tore through the front lines and charged like a madman toward the human rear positions. Its mountain-like body crushed the fortifications and the defensive troops before me into total disarray.”
“I was less than twenty years old at the time—how could I have ever seen such a sight? I immediately dropped my weapon and ran for my life. It was because I ran those few extra steps that I managed to escape; the entire camp was leveled by the enraged beast in an instant.”
“But the beast continued to charge toward me. After witnessing the tragic fate of my seniors, I was so terrified I couldn't move. Just as I could smell the foul stench from the beast's mouth, a streak of blue light flashed across the sky. It pierced through the beast that hundreds of people couldn't even slow down, and it landed right beside me. I was knocked unconscious by the massive impact. When I woke up, there wasn't a single living soul around—only this thing lying quietly in a large crater beside me.”
As the chief spoke, he patted the box on the floor. He looked at Midir with cloudy eyes, as if trying to see something in the man before him.
“So, you think the contents of this box might be related to my past?”
Midir was slightly taken aback. He didn't hear a definitive answer from the chief, but at the old man's gesture, he reached out and opened the box.
Inside the box lay a single deep-blue crystal. It emitted a faint glow in the silence, and its interior seemed to have life flowing slowly within it, mysterious and unpredictable.
“Scared out of my wits, I didn't care about anything else. I took this crystal and fled the death-filled battlefield, leaving the prosperous big cities behind to return to my hometown in the east and become an ordinary adventurer.”
“It was that cruel war that made me realize one thing: human talent is limited, and I belong to the category of those without talent. Instead of dying pointlessly on the front lines, it's better to live well in a remote area and forget everything.”
The old man didn't answer Midir's question directly, but continued to speak to himself.
“I know it was this crystal that saved my life, so I have quietly kept it for many years. My past deeds had gradually been forgotten over more than a century.”
“It wasn't until you saved those children and came to the village that these memories from years ago began to resurface in my mind. From their descriptions, you are undoubtedly a powerful individual, you've simply lost your memory. But this small village is definitely not a place where you should or could stay. To express my gratitude, I am taking this out to give to you as a gift.”
Saki spoke as he reached into the box, took out the blue crystal, and held it out to Midir.
Midir quickly waved his hands and said, “Isn't this your memento? And it must be very valuable. This isn't right; I can't accept it.”
“I know its value, but over a hundred years have passed. I've gone from an ignorant young man to the old man I am today, flickering like a candle in the wind. Aside from figuring out that it's nearly indestructible, I've never met anyone who could make it shine with that light again. Your appearance, Midir, might just be the arrangement of fate.”
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