World's Grace and Fellow Bearers of Innate Talents

He watched Tera leave.

Only then did the elderly human straighten his hunched back a little. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and drew a long breath.

It wasn't nerves that had worn him out, but the effort. Living into his forties already made him an ancient relic by human standards.

A short walk was enough to leave him gasping.

"Perhaps I don't have much longer to live."

His clouded eyes shifted. There was no fear of death in them, only calm. "Living this long may itself be the world's grace. Whatever happens, I must protect my awakened kin before I die."

He had founded the organization Grace twenty years ago, though even now it had few members.

The old man turned and picked his way across the uneven, weed-choked ground toward a mine nearby.

It was only a few hundred meters away.

By the time he reached it, he was panting. Before him lay a dark cave thick with cobwebs and dust.

The tunnel ran deep into the abandoned mine, its entrance nearly hidden by dense shrubs and weeds.

"You've been meeting that Fairy too often."

A dark figure suddenly appeared behind the old man and gently steadied his arm. A raspy voice spoke.

"On land ruled by Minotaurs,"

"slaves like us won't get help from anyone." The old man gave a bitter smile and sighed between breaths. "Only the Elves, said to be friendly to every race, are willing to help us."

"And all they ask for is a little information."

"Number Six, we have no choice but to gamble. So far, my gamble has paid off, hasn't it?"

The old man had read about the Fairy Tribe in ancient texts and biographies in Tales of Heroes more than ten years ago. He had been searching for