Sword Art Online: Moonlight Swordman.

"Wait." Ren slowed his steps and glanced over at Aisen. "If you already got back what you came for, then… shouldn't you have returned days ago?"

Aisen let out a soft laugh, shaking his head, eyes tinged with helplessness and a touch of sarcasm. "It's not that simple."

"We underestimated how determined the Forest Elves were. Not only did they refuse to give up, they went mad… hunting the Sacred Relic like their lives depended on it."

His voice lowered, now carrying a true heaviness.

"They seized and blocked off most of the entrances to the Spirit Tree, deep in the eastern part of this forest. That's the only path that leads us off this floor and back to the lower ones."

"This pursuit… we descended to the third floor with only one high-ranking commander." Aisen looked up, eyes distant, as if reaching back for memories. "Along with a small force and a temporary leader, Royal Knight Kizmel, she's also a member of the Pagoda Knight Order of the Lyusula Kingdom."

"At first, things went smoothly. We suffered no significant losses… at least not until the Sacred Relic was retrieved."

He paused, then gave a dry chuckle, the kind of laugh someone gives when there's not much left to lose.

"But after that… the Forest Elves got desperate. They reinforced their numbers, tightened their siege. And we… we were nearly completely cut off from the upper floors."

Aisen's gaze dropped, now locking with Ren's, quiet and unusually sincere.

"You saw it yourself… My Wolfhandlers Recon Unit… I'm the only one left."

He gave a small shrug, smiling faintly, as if telling a story that no longer concerned him.

"The others… they've… gone."

A silence followed, before he muttered half-jokingly, his voice low like wind rustling the leaves.

"Maybe it's time I considered… retiring."

"But anyway, never mind." Aisen sighed, waving a hand like he was sparing a pitiful soul. "Since you're… decently handsome, even if only one-tenth as dashing as yours truly, I'll give you the full story, save you the headache of guessing."

He leaned back slightly, hand on his hip, beginning to recount like he was reciting a farcical history.

"It all started when the Forest Elves went mad. They snuck into the Jade Palace, the heart of our Lyusula Kingdom, and stole the Sacred Relic."

"Right after that, they fled to this floor. We immediately organized a pursuit force… but unfortunately, we couldn't send reinforcements."

Aisen's tone grew a little more somber, though a mocking smile remained on his lips.

"Because this… was part of their disarmament plan. A trap. They wanted us to funnel most of our forces down here, then use that as a pretext to declare war."

"Most of our units were still required to remain stationed at strongholds on the higher floors, just in case the Forest Elf army launched a real assault."

He paused, eyes drifting toward the hazy canopy in the distance, where war still loomed, just barely held at bay.

"Stealing the Sacred Relic… was reason enough to light the fire."

"You don't need to worry," Aisen said after a stretch of silence, hands in his pockets, eyes never leaving the winding path gradually revealing itself beneath the thick canopy.

"I've no intention of dragging you into this meaningless mess. Just wait until it all settles down, and the world will return to its course. Like it always does."

A beat. His final words rang quietly, more like a comfort… to himself.

"…It's just, some things will never come back."

The forest wind blew past, carrying the scent of damp leaves and cold mist. The sound of their footsteps pressing into mossy ground murmured like whispers from the earth below.

"Before the continents shattered and floated into the skies, before the war turned everything to ashes… our two races were once one.

We once stood together beneath the light of a single god, fought side by side, lived together, and… trusted each other."

Aisen suddenly laughed, the sound dry and light as air.

"Sounds like a fairy tale, doesn't it? But it's real. The kids today don't believe it anymore… especially not after blood dyed the Spirit Tree white."

He plucked a dry blade of grass by the roadside, twirling it between his long fingers.

"I thought… once we retrieved the Sacred Relic, everything would end. But then we were cut off, split apart, hunted like wild animals… And now there's just me left, an aging captain of a scouting unit with no one left to command."

Another solemn pause. Aisen exhaled, soft as mist.

"Still… it's not worth dragging a kid like you into this. Just turn a blind eye, Ren. This storm will pass, and when it does… someone will still be standing."

His eyes glinted with something… something that looked very much like sorrow. Then he shrugged and gave a faint smile.

"Well, enough talk. We're almost there."

Ren didn't respond right away. He simply walked beside Aisen in silence, letting the sound of the forest breeze drift through the dense canopy, letting his steps sink softly into the mossy carpet under the dim light filtering through the clouds above.

What Aisen had said still echoed in Ren's mind, about continents being torn apart and rising into the sky… about a time when two races once held hands under the light of a shared god.

That image... strangely, didn't feel unfamiliar. Ren had seen it before, in scattered, fragmented glimpses, like shards etched into the memory stream of this world.

He spoke, voice calm but firm:

"The god you mentioned... is it the Beast God?"

Aisen froze mid-step. He turned, eyes narrowing slightly, studying Ren as if the boy had just revealed something he wasn't supposed to know.

"The Beast God is a great deity," he replied, more slowly than usual. "But unfortunately, not the one we worshipped."

"So there are other gods?" Ren pressed, his eyes never leaving Aisen's. There was no skepticism in his voice, only confirmation. A quiet slice through the fog covering the world's memory.

Aisen nodded, then sighed.

"Yes. There were more than one. But they all met the same fate, disappearing... into the endless stream of time. No one knows where they went. No one has seen a trace of them since."

He resumed walking, his steps heavier now.

"I was born after the dark era. The time people whisper about with fear."

"I once heard the elders say... that there was a time when the sun vanished from the sky. Everything drowned in black. Trees died, souls were torn apart, and no one believed in the light anymore."

Aisen fell silent for a moment, as if listening to the echoes of that very past.

"...Thankfully, the sun returned."

He gave a faint chuckle, but there was no joy in it.

"Even so, I don't remember anything from when I was born. No first cry, no parents' hands.

Only the long days... on a massive floating continent, where layers of earth stack upon each other like jagged scars across the flesh of the world."

He lifted his gaze. The sky above the third stratum had turned hazy, geological fractures faintly visible through drifting mist. That place... was once solid land. Now it was a forest suspended in the air.

"And so I lived. No answers. No direction. Just the knowledge that gods once existed. And that they left us behind."

"Wait…" Ren suddenly said, halting, brow furrowed in suspicion. "The way you say that... how old are you, exactly?"

Aisen didn't answer right away. A soft breeze rustled his long silver hair, carrying with it the scent of damp forest and fading war smoke.

"Age, huh..." He smirked, like the question was both too simple and too distant.

"...I'm not really sure. We don't count time like you do. No calendars, no years, no birthdays. Only the cycles of the moon... and memories of the dead."

He looked off toward the sunlight filtering through the canopy, illuminating moss-covered ancient pillars tilted and crumbling with age.

"But if we use human terms... from the moment my memories stopped slipping away like water, I've probably lived more than eighty years.

Maybe more. I was fighting in battles before many warriors in my clan were even born."

Aisen turned to Ren.

"What about you, kid? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

Ren didn't answer. He wasn't sure if he should tell the truth.

In a world where time was warped, where a child could wield a sword to kill monsters, and a warrior could live for a century and still appear young... age felt like a vague concept.

But Ren had heard that Elves live very long lives. He once watched an anime about magic, where some Elven mages lived for centuries.

"It doesn't matter." He finally said. "It just feels... strange. Like I'm walking between two eras."

Aisen chuckled. But there was a bitterness behind the laugh.

"You're not the first to feel that way. And you definitely won't be the last."

"Well, here we are... sooner than expected." Aisen stopped, his tone dipping slightly, tinged with sheepishness. "Sorry if I talked too much earlier, but... it's been a while since anyone was willing to listen to me ramble like that."

Ren didn't reply. He calmly adjusted the strap of his sword, keeping a neutral face. But inside, he was screaming:

'Of course... my brain's about to explode from all your rambling!'

Still, he forced himself to stay polite, just nodded, as if he'd just listened to some thought-provoking lecture.

Then Ren looked ahead, at where Aisen was pointing, and frowned.

"...This is it?" Ren blurted out.

In front of him was an unremarkable patch of clearing, surrounded by towering trees, twisted roots, and tangled vines.

No tents. No guards. No signs of a military unit ever having been stationed there. No flags. No paths leading in.

Just forest.

Period.