Gate To Valhalla

Three days had passed since Adrian's conversation with his mother. Now, the day had finally come for him to leave his homeland. Many of those who cherished him gathered at the shore, eager to bid farewell to the young boy.

"You will find greatness in whatever you pursue," the mayor said, placing a firm hand on Adrian's shoulder.

"Take this—eat it on the boat!" the baker woman added, handing him several loaves of fresh bread.

The moment of departure had arrived, yet the person meant to accompany Adrian was nowhere to be found. His mother, unaware of August's existence, believed Adrian was setting out on this journey alone.

The ship's captain called for all remaining passengers to board, warning that they would be departing shortly. Adrian stood at a crossroads—should he wait, or should he seize this rare opportunity? Another ship wouldn't set sail for at least a month.

With a determined breath, Adrian stepped onto the gangplank, joining the other passengers. As the ship began its slow departure, he moved to the side rail, waving goodbye to those he was leaving behind.

Among the crowd, his mother stood with a reassuring smile, waving gently, as if silently telling him she would be fine without him.

"You have good people who care about you," a familiar voice said from behind.

Adrian turned. "I know," he replied.

There was something recognizable about the voice, and when he looked, he was met with a familiar grin.

"August! I thought you didn't make it onto the boat!"

August laughed, his usual cheerful demeanor intact. "I got here earlier so I could check where we were headed."

As they descended toward the lower deck, August continued filling Adrian in.

"We're going to the land where pink blossoms bloom—the prosperous country of Prosperum."

"Yeah, I knew that," Adrian huffed. "You could've just asked me instead of snooping around the ship."

August's expression shifted from serious to playfully disappointed. "You know a lot for a kid who's never left his home before."

Adrian smirked. "My mom made me read a lot of books."

"Then you probably know about the different races—Dwarves, Demi-humans, Beastmen, Fairies, Demons, and Elves. Each group occupies different regions, and they don't exactly get along," August said.

Adrian nodded. He had read about the ongoing tensions between the races—how, fifty years ago, those tensions had escalated into a catastrophic war. The conflict had claimed countless lives and left all sides crippled, forcing them into an uneasy truce.

"I didn't know about the war," Adrian admitted.

By now, they had reached their cabin—a modest room with two beds, one on either side. Adrian sat on the bed to his right, kicking off his boots, while August took the opposite one, cracking open the small window.

"Once we reach Prosperum, there's someone we need to meet," August said.

"Who?"

"A master craftsman—the man who forged my Trinket."

"You still haven't explained what a Trinket is," Adrian pointed out.

August leaned back. "A Trinket is a specialized weapon given to adventurers and soldiers of the World Federation. Only the most skilled earn the right to have one custom-made."

Adrian's eyes widened. "Wait—so I'm getting one?"

"That's the plan," August said with a grin. "But first, we have to make it to Prosperum."

Their voyage would take a day or so, but unbeknownst to them, another ship—similar to their own—was also en route to Prosperum. Aboard it were two young soldiers of the World Federation, assigned to transport a highly classified package.

Their quarters were significantly larger than Adrian and August's. One of the soldiers, a teenage boy, turned to his superior and spoke.

"We'll be arriving soon… King Elfaria."

"Understood," King replied.

King Elfaria was no ordinary soldier. At just thirteen, he had been granted the rank of Grand Intermediate—an achievement unheard of in the Federation's history. Now, at fifteen, he had already ascended to Knight Master.

His appearance was as striking as his reputation—long, flowing blue hair that shimmered under the moonlight, as if it were woven from the night sky itself. Women often found themselves entranced by his beauty, only to be met with polite rejection. Over time, his colleagues had given him the nickname Heartbreaker.

His partner, Gil Hunter, was seventeen and had been handpicked to serve alongside King. The reason for his selection remained a mystery to him, one that frequently occupied his thoughts. Unlike King, Gil was outspoken, never hesitating to voice his opinions.

As King gazed out the window, the vast night sky stretched endlessly before him, a sea of stars illuminating its dark expanse.

"I will find them," he whispered to himself.

Gil's ears twitched. "Still searching for New Pegasus?"

King blinked. "You heard me?"

Gil smirked. "You forget I have very sensitive ears."

King chuckled. "Haha… sorry about that."

"It's fine. But listen—you can trust me. We're partners. Your goals are my goals too."

A rare, genuine smile crossed King's face. "Thank you."

Little did either group know that their destinies were about to collide in Prosperum—an encounter that would alter the very fabric of the world's power structure.