Fredrin Vance

He has a tall, slender build that combines elegance and strength. His face is elegant and aristocratic, with clear features: a straight nose, high cheekbones, thin lips that are often stretched into a light, mysterious smile. His eyes are deep and penetrating, with a cold, almost icy calm gaze that emphasizes his prudent nature.

Fredrin wears luxurious battle armor decorated with ornaments that resemble heraldic symbols. His armor has rich dark purple and silver shades that emphasize his noble origin and style. On top of it is a long cloak that flutters behind his back during battle, giving him even more drama. His hair is neat and smoothly combed back, which adds to the image of integrity and control.

Overall, Fredrin looks like a character who combines military prowess with noble coldness. His style is the embodiment of an elite knight in a world where beauty borders on ruthlessness. On his chest is a prominent, delicate scar that runs diagonally across the left side of his ribcage. Its edges have healed, but it remains sharply defined, a testament to the mortal battle he endured—perhaps the very one that changed his fate. The scar partially circles the center of his chest, where a precious magical stone is embedded.

This stone is a large, multifaceted crystal embedded directly into his body. It pulses with a faint blue-violet light that changes depending on Fredrin’s emotions or the power she wields. Its surface is smooth, but it seems to capture the infinity within—a portal to powerful arcane energy. Around the implantation site, thin magical runes are visible, as if they have been ingrained into the skin and armor, emphasizing the stone’s connection to his life force.

This stone is not just an artifact. This is the source of strength that sustains Fredrin on the brink of life and death, keeping him in a state of combative balance between nobility and darkness.

Born the son of Duke Vance, Fredrinn grew up to be a gifted adventurer, but also a notorious "treasurer" in Los Pecados. The crystal in his chest had long since fused with his heart. The terrible scar would never go away, and Fredrinn never tried to hide it. All he thought about was finding his missing friend. He works as a treasure appraiser in Los Pecados. Many thieves fear him because he is strong and proud. Fredrinn is narcissistic and stubborn, sometimes rude and dangerous, but he is always confident and boastful.

"Well, you're right," replied the tramp. "Because the Duke desperately needed stronger political allies. However, the boy... had other plans. Having overheard his father's arrangements, the little rascal decided to slip out of the castle and set off on his own so-called adventure."

"I don't think the Duke has anything to worry about," the smuggler interjected again. "A spoiled little rascal like him will soon be back with his daddy!"

"Yes, the Duke thought so," replied the tramp. "Old Vance was furious as hell, but he didn't even bother to look for his boy!"

"However, this boy turned out to be much stronger than his father thought. Note that he was no adventurer; but thanks to his courage, his wits, and his remarkable intelligence, the boy slipped through all the obstacles that came his way. He had a special penchant for exploring the most treacherous places, hitherto unknown to man.”

“And soon his name spread throughout the Land of Dawn. However, no one knew of his past life.”

The vagabond paused for a long time, as if waiting for someone to answer. But all he saw were blank faces and misty eyes.

“Oh, you must all be joking…” he muttered, sighing and rolling his eyes. “The boy’s name was Fredrinn… Fredrinn Vance!”

His revelation was met with another pause of silence. But as soon as the listeners realized it, the tavern erupted into an uproar.

"Please, pour me a glass of your signature drink," the drunken tramp muttered to the bartender. "And I'll tell you the whole truth about that scumbag Fredrin!"

The people of Los Pecados had long since forgotten the tales of Fredrinn, but his name still sounded like a siren's cry, luring anyone who heard it to its source.

"Two shots for our good friend," said the young smuggler, throwing a handful of pennies onto the counter.

"Ah, my esteemed gentleman. I'll make it worth your money, I assure you. It's something you've never heard of!" exclaimed the tramp.

Everyone in the bar kept their eyes on the dirty tramp, except for the man who was drinking alone in a corner, his compass clutched tightly in his hand.

“The story begins over twelve years ago,” the tramp began, surprisingly sober after a sip of his drink. “After gaining his fiefdom, Duke Vance of Grandrock Castle opened a sea trade route to the North Vale. Merchant ships from the north… all laden with rare goods… and all traded exclusively with the duke. But the old weasel was practically swimming in profits!”

The tramp took another sip, scanning the fat faces that eagerly awaited the next part.

“But wealth and prestige brought the duke little satisfaction,” he continued. “If anything, this newfound wealth only fueled his desire to rise to the very top of the imperial nobility. The duke began to discipline his children with strict rules, punishing any child who dared to disobey his words.”

“I’m glad I’m not some rich weirdo’s son!” the smuggler interjected.

“Yes, and you won’t be alone,” the tramp replied. “One of the Vence boys gave the Duke endless headaches. This young man had no interest in the rules and etiquette of nobility and longed for freedom and adventure. The Duke didn’t want this brat’s dirty ideas to infect the minds of other children. So he arranged for the boy to study at the Monastery of Light.”

“A convenient enough excuse to sneak up on the monastery’s archbishop!” the bartender interje