Ezra leaned against the window seat of the first-class cabin, the hum of the aircraft barely noticeable beneath the luxury that surrounded him. A book rested in his hand, while his other idly swirled a glass of glowing, blue-tinted liquid—one of the Federation's refined mana drinks. His gaze occasionally drifted past the window, where clouds stretched endlessly across the sky.

He was heading north, toward the very edge of the Human Federation. His flight would land in the nearest city to Bloodfort, the border town nestled against the Bloodveil Mountain Range—a jagged frontier that marked the end of human lands and the beginning of the Vampire Continent.

Closing the book, Ezra set it aside and stretched slightly. His expression remained relaxed, but his mind turned inward.

Two months of relentless training, he mused. From early morning until nightfall… It's paid off. I've reached the very peak of Rank 4. Breaking into Rank 5, though… that will take more time. Patience.

He leaned back into the seat, eyes half-lidded. The good news is, nothing major should happen in this period—at least according to the novel. The only real event is the final exam, and there's still time before that. I've already warned Cassy and Master, so they'll handle anything if trouble stirs. For me, the next month is free. Time to train… leisurely.

The flight attendant's voice announced they would be landing within the hour. Ezra stretched again, rolling his shoulders. I should take a nap. Or maybe… send Elena a message. She'll want to know I'll arrive tonight.

That thought drew a softer smile from him.

In the past two months, his late nights had often been filled with Elena's voice. Somehow, she always found ways to contact him—whether through subtle shadowing techniques that masked her number or calls that slipped past wards meant to block interference. Every night, without fail, they spoke. Sometimes just simple exchanges, sometimes long conversations stretching into the early hours.

Voice calls. Video calls. Little pieces of normalcy.

He wasn't sure what label to give it. Love? No, perhaps not. Friendship? That was undeniable. Elena is… a good friend.

Ezra's lips curved slightly as the memory warmed him. The cabin lights dimmed , and he closed his eyes, leaning his head against the seat.

After an hour, the flight landed. Ezra disembarked with the rest of the passengers, passed through identity and mana checks, and stepped out of the terminal.

Ezra stepped out of the airport and checked his phone. The delivery notice had already arrived. He had requested the car to be at the entrance by 6 p.m., and right on time, the driver called.

"Yes, sir, I'm here with the car. Which gate should I bring it to?"

"Gate number two," Ezra replied.

Minutes later, a rugged mountain SUV rolled up—dark grey, sturdy, built for rough terrain. Exactly the type of vehicle one would need for the Bloodveil roads.

The driver got out, handed him the keys with a smile. "Congratulations on your new car, sir."

"Thanks." Ezra took the keys, then casually asked, "Any good place to eat nearby?"

The man chuckled. "There's a spot that serves dwarven food. Not everyone likes it—strong flavors, heavy spices—but it's the best in the area."

Ezra nodded, slipped him a few gold coins as a tip, and tossed his travel bag into the back seat. The man bowed gratefully before leaving.

Sliding into the driver's seat, Ezra adjusted the mirror, started the engine, and felt the low rumble vibrate beneath his hands. A faint grin tugged at his lips. Been a long time since I drove myself.

He followed the directions and soon found the small dwarven tavern tucked into a corner street. Inside, the air was warm, filled with the scent of roasted meat and thick ale. Ezra ordered a simple platter—grilled chicken , dark bread, and a mug of dwarven brew. The flavors were bold, earthy, unlike the refined dishes of the capital, but satisfying in their own way.

Afterward, he stopped at a general store, picking up supplies for the road—snacks, bottled mana water, and a few enchanted charms for navigation and safety. With everything packed, he climbed back into the SUV, set his phone's map toward Bloodfort, and leaned back in the seat.

The sun had dipped low, painting the sky in hues of orange and violet. The open road stretched before him, winding into the shadows of the Bloodveil Mountain Range.

With one hand on the wheel and music quietly playing from the console, he drove off toward the borderlands just a man, his thoughts, and the endless road ahead.

———————

With a soft hum, Ezra kept driving. The night had fully descended, and the two moons bathed the sky in pale light, casting silver reflections on the snow. Between the towering Bloodveil Mountains, the air was sharp and clean, filled with that crisp winter smell. The music playing in his car, the empty road, and the cold wind slipping in through the window—everything felt strangely perfect.

Ezra even stopped a couple of times just to take photos. Some moments were simply too beautiful to ignore.

After four hours of driving, the massive walls of Bloodfort Town came into view. A heavy defensive formation shimmered faintly over the barrier. At the main gate, soldiers in Federation military uniforms—mostly Rank 1 and Rank 2—were conducting strict checks.

Ezra eased his SUV into line. When the officer approached, he asked curtly, "Papers."

Ezra calmly produced his black council card, engraved with the sigil of the High Human Council.

The officer froze, gulping nervously before bowing. After scanning, the system instantly approved his clearance.

"Welcome to Bloodfort, sir!" he said with a salute.

Ezra nodded, steering his car through the gates. Despite being a border city, Bloodfort wasn't bleak or harsh—it was a well-structured military town with wide roads, orderly buildings, and the steady rhythm of soldiers and their families going about their lives. Civilian tourists needed government clearance to even enter, but as a disciple under a Rank 9, Ezra passed without question.

He drove straight to the inn Elena had recommended. She had messaged that she was still on patrol tonight and would meet him tomorrow. Parking his SUV, Ezra grabbed his bag and walked inside.

The receptionist froze for a moment at his appearance, then quickly straightened. "Welcome, sir. How may I help you?"

Ezra smiled politely. "I'll need a room for a week."

The woman's face tinged pink. "Of course. May I see your ID? That will be 7,000 gold. Would you prefer cash or online?"

"Online." Ezra handed over his ID.

She registered his details, then turned the scanner toward him. After the payment flashed through, she smiled more professionally.

"Welcome to Countryside Inn. Your room number will be 603."

Ezra thanked her and headed up.

Later, standing by the window of his room, he looked out over the night-lit city. Even on the edge of the Vampire Continent, Bloodfort had its own beauty.

——————-

A woman with long dark hair, streaked at the sides with a faint silver shade, leaned against the wall of the barracks corridor. Her gemlike black eyes glimmered faintly under the lantern light. A katana rested casually in her hand as she scrolled through her phone, lips curling into a rare smile.

Elena Voncrest.

The moment stretched quietly until a broad-shouldered man with a trimmed brown beard approached, a cigarette packet in hand.

"Major, want one?" he asked, offering with an easy grin.

Elena hummed, taking one between her fingers. With a flick of magic, the tip lit in a small spark, and she drew in a slow drag before exhaling a stream of smoke into the cold night air.

The man squinted at her, curious.

"You're smiling. Something good happen?"

"Hmm," Elena replied lazily, taking another puff. Then, as if it were nothing, she added, "Anyway… I'll be off duty for a week. You'll handle the patrols starting tomorrow."

The man's eyes went wide.

"What?! No, no, I can't do that! Not this week! I've got the Iron Clash Tournament coming up—you know how long I've been training for it!"

Elena's expression didn't change. "I already got permission from Colonel Mirella Kain. She's assigned you to lead the patrols. You'll be officially informed tomorrow."

The man—Jonas—groaned, dragging a hand through his hair.

"There goes my match…"

Elena stubbed the cigarette against the wall, smirking faintly.

"Keep working, big boy."

With that, she turned and strode toward her quarters, her silhouette fading into the lamplight's glow.

After reaching her quarters, Elena changed into a simple nightdress and let her katana rest against the wall. The quiet hum of the fortress faded behind the thick door as she lay down on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

Her thoughts drifted, unbidden.

At first, she had only been curious about the boy. A distraction. Something to pass the hours after long patrols. But as the days went by, she realized she had begun to look forward to those conversations. Every time her shift ended, every time the night grew still, she found herself waiting for his voice.

It wasn't forced. It wasn't deliberate. The talks came naturally—banter, silence, even arguments—and somewhere within those moments, a different feeling had started to take root.

She wasn't sure what it was. She didn't dare name it. But it was something… different.

"…Tomorrow," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes. "I'll meet him tomorrow."

With that thought lingering softly in her chest, Elena drifted into sleep.