The moment Klein moved, the world seemed to narrow. His hand shot forward, Whisperfang glinting under the moonlight, and before he realized it, he was already upon the nearest knight.
The blade sang toward his opponent's neck—
And stopped.
Not because Klein hesitated, but because his dagger met steel so dense it felt like the air itself froze around it. The impact rang like a bell, vibrating through his arm. Sparks flew between them as metal kissed metal.
For a heartbeat, everything was still. The world dimmed at the edges, the forest falling silent. Even the wind seemed to stop breathing.
Across from him stood a man—tall, broad-shouldered, his armor a polished azure trimmed with gold. His sword, a long silver blade engraved with runes, gleamed faintly in the moonlight.
The man's expression didn't harden in anger. Instead, he laughed.
A low, hearty laugh that carried no hostility—only surprise.
"Well, now," the knight said, his voice deep and warm. "That was quite the strike for someone your size."
Klein blinked, his body tensed, every instinct screaming to move again. But the man's presence pressed down on him like gravity.
'This aura… it's heavy,' Klein thought. 'He's strong. Too strong.'
Paros hummed in amusement. "Ah, I see you've found someone worth fearing, master. How exciting."
'Shut up, Paros,' Klein muttered internally, his grip tightening on Whisperfang.
The man eased his blade aside, deflecting Klein's dagger effortlessly, and stepped forward with a smile that bordered on paternal. His hair was pale gold, his eyes the calm blue of the sea. Despite the armor and the sword, there was something almost gentle about him.
He crouched down so their eyes met.
"Tell me, little one," he said softly. "Did you do all this?"
Klein didn't answer. He could still hear his pulse in his ears.
The man's smile deepened. "You can speak, can't you?"
'He's toying with me,' Klein thought. 'Why does he sound so casual?'
"Because," Paros whispered with a chuckle, "this man could kill you before you blink. That calm tone is the luxury of the strong."
The knight suddenly reached out and cupped Klein's cheek with a gloved hand. His palm was warm, surprisingly gentle.
"You're trembling," the man said. "But not from fear… no, that's excitement, isn't it?"
Klein's eyes narrowed. He hated that the man was right.
The knight chuckled again and rose to his full height. "I'm Commander Lucien Valemont of the Azure Crest Garrison. And you, my curious little butcher, have made quite the mess."
The other knights behind him stirred uneasily. One whispered, "Commander, that child… he's surrounded by bodies."
Lucien raised a hand, silencing them without a glance. His gaze never left Klein.
"You slew them alone?"
Klein nodded once, wordless.
Lucien's eyes widened slightly. Then he threw back his head and laughed. "Hah! Incredible! By the Light, I didn't think anyone so small could wield death so elegantly."
He stepped forward again, examining the corpses with almost scholarly interest. "Clean cuts. Efficient. No wasted movement. These weren't lucky strikes… you *knew* what you were doing."
'He's analyzing me,' Klein thought, his jaw tight. 'Is he impressed or suspicious?'
"Both," Paros said dryly. "And perhaps a little smitten."
'Not helping.'
Lucien finally turned back to him, expression softening. "What's your name, boy?"
"…Klein."
"Ah, Klein," Lucien repeated, tasting the name. "Strong name. Suits you."
Klein frowned slightly. 'Why is he being so friendly?'
"Because strong men rarely fear children," Paros replied. "And perhaps he sees a bit of himself in you."
Lucien knelt again, resting his sword tip into the dirt. "Klein, you understand you've wandered into royal territory, yes? These woods are under the jurisdiction of the kingdom of Avalor. Any unregistered slaying of monsters requires a permit."
Klein blinked. "Permit?"
Lucien smiled faintly. "Ah, so you're not from around here."
'He's fishing for answers,' Klein thought.
"Maybe give him something vague," Paros advised. "No need to reveal our divine sponsorship just yet."
Klein looked away. "I… don't remember much. Just woke up here."
Lucien studied him for a long moment, eyes narrowing slightly. Then, to Klein's surprise, he chuckled again. "A lost child who kills a dozen goblins before dawn. You're either blessed or cursed."
"Blessed," Paros whispered smugly.
Lucien's hand came down gently on Klein's shoulder. The weight was comforting and terrifying all at once. "If you truly have nowhere to go, you should come with us. I can't leave a child alone in this forest, especially one who attracts goblin camps."
Klein didn't move. His instincts told him to run, but his reason whispered otherwise. This man—this Commander—was a force he couldn't possibly resist.
'If I attack, I'll die,' he thought.
"Oh, without question," Paros said cheerfully. "That man's aura alone could crush your lungs if he willed it."
Lucien seemed to sense Klein's hesitation. He crouched again, expression patient. "Don't mistake kindness for weakness, boy. I've seen enough blood tonight."
The softness in his voice made Klein's chest tighten.
'I can't read him,' Klein thought. 'He's too calm. Too composed. Like nothing here surprises him.'
Lucien smiled, almost as if he heard the thought. "You have sharp eyes, Klein. Keep them. They'll save you one day."
The commander stood, sheathing his sword with a quiet scrape of metal. "Men! Gather the corpses. Burn the remains. The forest will rot if we leave them."
The knights obeyed at once, moving among the fallen goblins. Lucien turned back to Klein.
"You'll come with us to the garrison. There's food, a bed, and people who won't try to kill you."
Klein's eyes flicked to the trees. He could vanish into the dark now, maybe. His body was small, fast. But as he met Lucien's gaze again, he saw it—something vast and unshakable behind those calm blue eyes.
'He'd catch me,' Klein thought grimly. 'No matter how fast I run.'
Paros chuckled. "Best play along, master. A commander's hospitality could be useful. And besides… this man intrigues me."
Lucien extended a hand. "Well, Klein? What will it be?"
Klein hesitated for only a moment before nodding once.
Lucien's smile returned, broad and genuine. "Good lad." He reached out, patting Klein's hair lightly. "Don't worry. You're safe now."
Safe.
The word felt strange to Klein—foreign, even.
As the knights began to pack up, he followed Lucien quietly. The commander hummed as they walked, occasionally glancing down at him with amused curiosity.
Paros' voice floated softly in his head. "You sense it too, don't you? That man carries power greater than any you've seen so far. His strength isn't from magic or bloodline… it's from years of killing with purpose."
Klein said nothing, eyes fixed ahead.
'One day,' he thought, gripping Whisperfang at his side. 'I'll surpass him.'
And somewhere deep within his mind, Paros smiled.