NOVEL WEB Chapter 4: Embers of Trust
The sun had risen high by the time Raiyan stepped outside the herbalist's cottage.
The village of Elm's Hollow was small, nestled between the edge of the Moonfang Forest and the rolling foothills to the east. Thatched-roof homes sat clustered around a central well, where villagers passed carrying baskets, tools, and the kind of quiet peace only remote places could afford.
But Raiyan?
He couldn't stay.
As kind as Lera had been, something gnawed at him — not fear, but restlessness. The longer he stayed, the more *stuck* he felt. This wasn't his world. He didn't want to grow old baking bread or picking herbs. His system pulsed with unused potential, and his trait — [Soul Memory]— whispered that *growth only comes with movement.*
Lera stood beside him, arms folded loosely. Her expression was unreadable.
"You sure?" she asked, squinting at him under the light.
He adjusted the straps of the travel pack she had stuffed with dried fruit, bread, and herbs. "Yeah. I appreciate everything. But I don't belong here."
"I figured," she murmured.
She didn't try to convince him to stay. Instead, she pulled a rolled parchment from her satchel and pointed to a winding road sketched across it.
"This leads to Rellmere. Closest city. Maybe a day or two on foot if you don't stop much. Stick to the main path — avoid anything glowing or whispering."
Raiyan raised an eyebrow. "Whispering?"
"Trust me," she said dryly. "You'll know."
He looked at her one last time. She seemed strong, mysterious — and possibly hiding something — but he didn't push.
She saved his life.
He wouldn't return the favor by digging into her secrets.
"Take care, Lera."
"You too, city boy."
Raiyan traveled alone for the next two days.
The road to Rellmere was quiet but occasionally unsettling. The forest watched him. Birds didn't chirp often, and once he thought he saw something shadowy slip between the trees. But nothing attacked.
Maybe whatever roamed these woods had already sensed his brush with death — and left him alone out of pity.
By the time the city's stone walls came into view, night was falling.
Rellmere*wasn't massive, but it buzzed with life. Wooden carts rolled past the gates. Lanterns floated overhead by mana string. The guards barely glanced at Raiyan after he flashed a fake bronze adventurer's emblem he carved himself (crudely, but enough to pass).
Inside, the city came alive.
Sellers yelled about glowing mushrooms and enchanted cloaks. Street urchins darted between alleys. Adventurers laughed, argued, and clinked mugs outside taverns.
Raiyan's stomach growled.
He followed the noise toward a glowing sign that read "The Broken Boar"— a local pub near the central plaza.
Inside, the air was warm, filled with firelight and the scent of roasted meat.
The pub was alive with conversation. Wooden tables. Metal mugs. A bard in the corner plucking a stringless instrument using a rune-crystal. The kind of noise Raiyan hadn't heard since Earth — and oddly, it was comforting.
He stepped up to the counter, trying to look like he belonged.
Before he could order, a loud voice beside him said, "You look like you've never had a proper drink in your life."
Raiyan turned.
The man beside him was maybe a year or two older, tanned from travel, with wind-ruffled black hair and bright, mischievous blue eyes. He wore a dark red coat over light armor, and a sword hung diagonally across his back.
He grinned like someone who'd been in — and caused — more tavern brawls than he could count.
"I'm guessing you're either lost," the man continued, "or freshly dumped."
"I'm neither," Raiyan said. "Just arrived."
"That so?" He stuck out a hand. "Name's Max Tudor. Professional idiot, part-time swordsman."
Raiyan hesitated, then shook his hand. "Raiyan. Traveler."
Max ordered two mugs of frothy golden ale. "You've got that look," he said as the drinks arrived. "Like someone who's either seen something terrifying, or got slapped by fate."
Raiyan lifted the mug, unsure. The smell was strong.
Max knocked his back in one gulp. "Go on. Welcome to Rellmere."
Raiyan sipped.
Then coughed.
Hard.
"Bitter, right?" Max laughed. "First taste always hits like a wyvern's foot."
Raiyan set the mug down and chuckled, finally relaxing. This was… different. Max didn't seem dangerous. Just loud. Normal, in a way this world rarely was.
"So what's your story?" Max asked, leaning back on his stool.
Raiyan considered answering.
He opened his mouth—
> ❖ SYSTEM WARNING
> Absolute Rule: \[Origin Restriction]
> Reincarnation knowledge is locked. Do not reveal.
He froze. The words flashed red in his vision.
"...Village kid," he said instead. "From a small place west of the forest. Came here looking for adventure."
Max squinted. "Which village?"
"Doesn't have a name," Raiyan lied quickly. "Just farms and trees."
Max grinned. "That's the best kind. No taxes."
They talked a bit more. Max was funny, disarming. He shared wild stories about monster-hunting across different continents, escaping death, climbing mountains full of crystal snakes. Most of it sounded like exaggeration — but not *entirely*.
Eventually, Max glanced sideways. "Listen. You got a class?"
"Not officially," Raiyan said.
"But you fight?"
"With a sword. Sort of."
"Good enough." Max drained another mug. "We're down a party member. Lost our last guy to marriage. Bastard left to open a bakery."
Raiyan blinked. "That's… oddly peaceful."
"Yeah, but boring," Max shrugged. "You interested? We take jobs. City to city. Mostly silver-ranked stuff — escort, beast hunts, minor dungeon cleans. Pay's not bad. We're leaving tomorrow."
Raiyan hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Sure."
The next day, they met outside the west gate.
Max was already waiting with two others.
The first was tall and lanky, wearing a long robe with blue runes etched across the hem. He had short silver-blonde hair and round spectacles that kept sliding down his nose. He looked more like a library ghost than an adventurer.
"This is Felix Gallardo," Max introduced. "Our healer. Don't let the height fool you — he's the gentlest soul you'll ever meet."
Felix gave a tiny nod, barely making eye contact. "H-hello. Um. Nice… weather?"
The other member, standing apart with arms crossed, had a very different presence.
A woman with dark bronze skin, short-cut black hair, and sharp amber eyes. She wore a sleeveless coat over a reinforced mage's harness, with red mana stones embedded across the chest and shoulders. A glowing crystal staff rested against her hip.
"This is Aminah Vrera," Max said. "Our firecracker."
"Spellcaster," she corrected flatly.
"She means 'explosive personality,'" Max added.
Aminah ignored him, stepping toward Raiyan. Her eyes scanned him up and down.
"You don't carry much mana," she said. "Not awakened?"
Raiyan tried not to flinch. "Still working on control. I fight with a sword, mostly."
She stared a moment longer.
Then shrugged. "So long as you don't die, you'll do."
And just like that, he was part of something.
> ❖ Party Joined: \[Deathly Heretics Silver-Rank Adventurer Party]
> Members: Max Tudor (Sword / Wind), Felix Gallardo (Support / Heal), Aminah Vrera (Fire / Magic), Raiyan (Sword)
>
> Bonus Gained: Team Combat EXP Sharing \[25% Efficiency]
> Temporary Bond Status: Initiated
"Weird name" Raiyan thought quietly but did not question. Raiyan followed as the group left the city together.
They didn't talk much that first hour — just walked, the silence broken only by Max humming an off-key tune and Aminah occasionally scolding him for stepping too loud.
Felix trailed behind, nose buried in a field guide about monsters native to the nearby region.
Eventually, Max broke the quiet.
"So, Raiyan," he said. "If you're gonna roll with us, we'll need to name the party. Got any suggestions?"
Felix mumbled something about stars and destiny.
Aminah voted for "Flamebound."
Max suggested "The Handsome Swordsmen + One Mage & Nerd."
Raiyan laughed harder than he had in days.
He didn't have a name for them yet.
But for the first time since being thrown into this world, he felt something new growing inside him — not just fear, not just determination.
Trust.