Unleashed
[One Week After the Abrupt Closing of Ludus Magnorum]
Rosmayne had entered a period of recovery.
In the aftermath of the unforeseen catastrophe that struck at the height of Ludus Magnorum, the entire nation found itself forced to rebuild—physically, logistically, and quietly, in ways that were less visible. What had once been a celebration now lingered as a disruption that reached far beyond the capital.
Fortunately, aid had not been slow to arrive. From neighboring states and distant lands alike came shipments of materials, food supplies, and laborers. Caravans moved steadily along the main roads, escorted by hired mercenary bands dispatched from various cities to ensure that vital resources reached Fleurein without interruption. Their presence had become a common sight, just as familiar as the restless movement of workers who now filled the streets.
The capital no longer paused. It is now shifting, adapting, and most importantly, enduring.
Amidst the steady flow of activity—between carts being unloaded, voices calling out instructions, and the constant movement of people occupied with their own urgent affairs—one figure moved differently from the rest.
A young man.
He kept his head lowered as he walked, his steps uneven in their urgency yet careful, as though he wished neither to be seen nor remembered. His path avoided the main roads whenever possible, favoring narrow alleys and unfamiliar crossings where fewer eyes lingered. The large bag slung across his back drew attention in its own right—so oversized that it nearly swallowed his frame, its weight forcing him to lean forward slightly as he moved.
He did not slow until he reached his destination—A safe house for him and his intrigues.
The house stood quietly along a less-traveled street, unassuming to the point of neglect. Its exterior bore the signs of age—faded wood, worn edges, nothing that would invite a second glance. It was precisely the kind of place one would overlook.
Inside, someone was waiting.
“You won’t believe what I found!” the young man exclaimed as he entered, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.
“Show me!” the woman replied immediately, stepping closer.
With a grunt, he shrugged the large bag from his shoulders. Its weight nearly pulled him off balance as it hit the floor, and for a moment, he staggered with it before regaining his footing. Neither of them paid the stumble any mind. Their attention had already shifted.
They opened the bag together.
The contents spilled into view—an assortment of items that did not belong in ordinary hands. Gemstones glinted faintly in the dim light, their polished surfaces catching what little illumination entered the room. Bottles of medicine lay packed between them, alongside rolled maps whose edges hinted at frequent use.
The reaction was immediate.
Smiles spread across their faces, unrestrained and bright with recognition. They did not need to examine each piece to understand what lay before them. Even at a glance, it was clear—everything inside held considerable value.
“Where did you find this? Who does it belong to?” the woman asked, her eyes still fixed on the contents.
“I found it in one of the buildings near Great Gardenia,” he replied with a dismissive shrug. “How would I know who it belongs to? Stop asking useless questions. In times like this, it’s the quick and clever who come out ahead. Luck like this doesn’t happen twice!”
She hesitated for only a moment before nodding slightly.
“I guess you have a point. Time to sort it all out?”
They began emptying the bag piece by piece, setting items aside as they went. The rhythm of their movements grew quicker, more efficient, driven by anticipation.
Then something slipped free.
A small object fell between them with a faint, dull sound.
It was a bottle—compact, tightly sealed, wrapped in a layer of dull cloth marked with symbols neither of them recognized. The fabric had begun to peel at the edges, its bindings worn just enough to reveal that whatever lay beneath had not been meant for idle hands.
The woman reached for it.
She turned it slightly, inspecting the loosened wrapping. The markings meant nothing to her, but they did not stop her curiosity. Whether it was carelessness, greed, or simply a fleeting desire to know, even she could not have said.
Without much thought, she began to unwind the cloth.
And then, it happened.
The moment the seal was broken, the entity within seized its chance. Syamrin had waited long enough. There was no hesitation, no resistance—only immediate action as it slipped free and surged forward, invading the nearest vessel available.
The woman’s body stiffened.
Then it moved.
“Aah~” a low, drawn-out sound left her lips, as it always had.
Syamrin adjusted to its new form with deliberate attention. Hands rose, tracing across unfamiliar skin—cheeks, arms, chest—fingers brushing over lips and lingering at the edges of vision as it tested the range of its sight. Every sensation was examined, cataloged, reacquainted.
The five senses, once distant and dulled, returned in full. It drew in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it slowly. In that single inhale, it understood what it had taken; This body was not ideal.
There was a sharp, persistent sting in the chest, and an underlying discomfort that spread through multiple joints. Weakness lingered beneath the surface, subtle but undeniable.
Worse still, its own strength had yet to recover.
Forcing entry into a host without a contract had come at a cost. Its power remained thin, diminished to a state that bordered on fragile. When a fly landed lightly against the edge of its fingernail, Syamrin paused, watching it with quiet awareness. Even that insignificant creature, it thought, might possess more strength than it did at this moment.
“Willow, what are you doing?”
The young man’s voice broke the silence, but Syamrin did not turn immediately.
“Nothing,” it replied at last, its tone steady as it adjusted its posture. “I’m just… feeling alive.”
A short laugh followed.
“Finally went insane with all this hoard, huh?” he said, shaking his head. “Mind you, we need to get out of this city as soon as possible. Patrols are getting tighter every day. So, let's pack this up quickly.”
Syamrin glanced down briefly at the scattered contents before answering.
“Sure,” it said.
“Whatever you say.”