Ezekiel closed his status window with a soft flick of his wrist and turned back to the counter. Lance stood quietly behind it, his hands steady yet contemplative.
He seemed to be torn between something. Ezekiel let him be, knowing what was coming next. A moment passed before the blacksmith let out a shaky breath, as if he had made up his mind.
Without a word, Lance reached below the counter and retrieved a small, aged jewelry box. The wood was dark and finely polished, its brass hinges dulled by time. He held it with a kind of reverence one would reserve for a sacred relic—both hands cupping it, like the weight it carried wasn't just physical.
He placed it carefully on the counter between them and looked up at Ezekiel. The large man's face, usually rough and weatherworn from years of soot and steel, now held a quiet solemnity.
"This belonged to my younger brother," he said softly. "His name was Dhamra."
Ezekiel's expression stayed neutral, but inwardly, his attention sharpened.
Lance drew in a long breath, as if what he was about to say still pained him deeply, even after all these years.
"Fwerah wasn't always this peaceful, quiet village," he began. "Ten years ago, it was brimming with life, so much more vibrant than now. Farmers worked the fields, children filled the streets, and the taverns were always full of the melodious voices of bards. But then... the disappearances began."
He paused, his voice growing taut with memory.
"It started with one man. Then another the week after. Then two more, and two again. Before long, sixteen men—every one of them aged twenty-five—had vanished into thin air. All good lads, strong and well-loved. My brother was among them."
Ezekiel remained silent, letting the man talk.
"The village tried to stay calm, but fear took root. Families began locking their doors at all times. Some moved away entirely. Eventually, the panic got so severe that the Klarincè Capital City sent troops to investigate.
Hundreds of soldiers and expert investigators arrived from the capital. They combed through every field, every forest, every cave in a fifty-mile radius."
He scoffed bitterly.
"And yet, nothing. Not even a single footprint. The men were just... gone."
Lance ran a thick hand through his ginger beard and stared down at the box.
"Then one night, weeks after Dhamra vanished, I had a dream."
The tone of his voice shifted—quieter now, more intimate, almost reluctant.
"I saw him. All of them. Standing inside a cave made of glowing white stone. It was bright, unnaturally so. They looked... well. Too well."
He hesitated, his brow furrowing.
"Their skin was radiant, like that of nobles from the high courts. They wore silks and jewels. There was a feast laid out before them. Meats, fruits, wine... more than I'd ever seen in all my life."
Lance paused, a subtle expression of terror colored his face.
"But their smiles… they weren't real. From a distance, they looked blissful. But up close?" Lance's eyes lifted to Ezekiel's, heavy with the memory. "Their mouths were smiling, but their eyes… Their eyes screamed for help. Like someone had pulled the corners of their lips into place, like marionettes forced to play the part of happy prisoners."
A chill ran down Ezekiel's spine.
"I woke up screaming," Lance continued, voice strained. "And there, on my bedside, was Dhamra's locket. I always kept it close after his disappearance. But for the first time ever, it was glowing.
When I appraised it, the system identified it as a Platinum-tier artifact. But I swear to you, adventurer—before that night, it was nothing but a worthless trinket."
He opened the jewelry box and gently pushed it toward Ezekiel. The locket was round in shape and made of silver. It was attached to a long silver necklace. The artifact shimmered faintly, an ethereal light dancing across its surface.
"I tried to tell the soldiers, the investigators. I told them about the dream, about the locket. They called me mad. Said I'd cracked under the grief. My reputation was shredded. I lost my forge near the town square. Had to rebuild out here, on the edge of the village. They even forbade me from placing my door in front of the street."
He gave a bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it.
"But I never gave up. I traveled from village to village, town to town. Always looking for clues. Always hoping that maybe, somehow, I could bring my brother home." His voice cracked slightly. "I've been doing this for ten years. And I've found nothing."
There was a long silence between them. Lance stood like a man holding back a flood, fists clenched at his sides. When he finally looked up at Ezekiel again, his eyes were pleading.
"You're different," he said. "You're brave. And you're kind. My daughter spoke of you like you were some sort of guardian. So please... I'm asking you—will you carry this burden forward? Will you try to finish what I couldn't?"
In the perspective of the NPCs, players were blessed individuals with limitless potential for growth. If it were another regular resident of his world, no matter how established and skilled the other party was, Lance wouldn't have trusted them with this task so easily.
He had seen his fair share of betrayals, contempt, and plain disregard in the ten years of his search of his brother.
But to this day, Ezekiel was the only adventurer that he met whom he felt like he could place his faith onto, despite it being their first meeting.
The air shimmered as a game prompt appeared before Ezekiel:
{Mandatory Quest Discovered!}
Quest: Dhamra's Will (Epic)
Objective: Investigate the cave of white stone and rescue the sixteen missing men.
Time Limit: 7 Days
Rewards: ???
Failure Penalty: -50% EXP, -2 Levels, -50% Permanent Stat Reduction
{This quest cannot be declined}
Ezekiel's brows furrowed.
This isn't the quest chain I remember… he thought.
In the mental dossier the anonymous sender had implanted in his mind upon connecting to the ReLife server, the follow-up to Ariel's Dilemma quest was supposed to be another Pseudo-Epic quest—one that gave him thirty days to recover Dhamra's remains and bring closure to Lance.
But this?
This was something else entirely.
A seven-day limit. A massive penalty. And a quest that couldn't be refused.
Did that mean Dhamra and his fellow captives were still alive, and that something would happen within the next few days that would cause their deaths? But why now, after all these years?
Did he happen to trigger this quest before Dhamra's demise? Or did his EX-rank performance trigger a hidden flag? Could it be his high charm or luck? Or was this simply the game responding dynamically to his path, reshaping itself as he made progress?
He didn't know.
But he did know one thing: he couldn't completely rely on the data in his head. But more importantly, he couldn't afford to fail this quest.
ReLife didn't allow multiple accounts. The character one created at launch was their one and only. If he failed and lost half his EXP and stats permanently… there would be no coming back.
He looked up at Lance. The man's face was weathered, yes—but filled with desperate hope. Even if Lance was just a series of ones and zeroes, the pain in his voice and the tremble in his hands felt human.
NPC or not, he was also a creation of Ezekiel's mother's decade long efforts. He felt a deep-seated connection to the man before him.
Ezekiel nodded solemnly.
"I will find out what happened to your brother," he said. "You have my word."
Lance didn't respond at first. His eyes brimmed with tears, his massive frame seeming to sag in relief. Then, with surprising humility, the blacksmith bowed low at the waist.
"Thank you… thank you, Adventurer. I don't know what lies ahead, but I know my brother couldn't be in better hands."
Ezekiel quickly stepped forward and helped the man straighten back up.
"You don't need to bow to me. I am just doing what's right."
Lance chuckled quietly and nodded. "Then may the stars light your path."
The locket was now in Ezekiel's possession, tucked into his inventory. He couldn't view its stats as it appeared to be sealed, but he could feel its weight in more ways than one.
A new set of bronze equipment had also taken up a few slots at some point. It was the Wolf Armor Set that he received as a bonus reward. He had assumed that Lance would be the one making him this set with the extra wolf hide he brought back, but it actually turned out to be a reward from Opera.
With a final nod, Ezekiel stepped out of the smithy into the bright morning sun. The noise of the village returned: the bleating of goats, the smell of bread, the clamor of distant players bartering with NPCs.
He glanced at the horizon.
He knew his next destination, but before that, he had some preparations to make.