The knight continued to walk, carrying Louis with effortless grace.
Louis was still wrapped securely in the thick, warm blanket, but the warmth did nothing to soothe the frantic confusion in his mind.
Time passed.
Louis was still dumbfounded of everything.
The gentle kiss still lingered on his lips. It is his first time kissing a man, or anyone for that matter, and it had happened right after being nearly eaten by a monster.
He needed answers.
He needed to speak.
Mustering up a courage to speak, he nervously tried to talk to the man who was carrying him with ease.
His throat was dry, and the words felt trapped.
But—
"Hiccup."
An unexpected sound came.
It was loud, squeaky, and utterly mortifying in the sudden silence of the forest.
Embarrassment quickly followed turning his cheeks and ears red.
He immediately buried his face into the man's silver shoulder armor, desperate to disappear.
'Why did I have to hiccup right now?'
The man immediately noticed it.
He stopped walking and gently lowered his head. He did not laugh or even smile.
His deep blue eyes held only concern as he delicately reached out and touch Louis forehead.
His armored hand was surprisingly cool against Louis's burning skin.
"You are cold, Louis, and shaking," the man said, his voice quiet. He looked up at the knight closest to them. "We will not travel further tonight. You need rest and warmth."
He then instructed the knights to find a suitable place for a camp. "Find an area near water, and ensure it is shielded from the wind. Double the perimeter guard immediately."
The surrounding knights acknowledged the order with a quick, silent nod and melted away into the surrounding trees, their silver armor disappearing among the shadows.
The golden-haired man adjusted Louis in his arms once more, his grip still firm and careful, before slowly moving toward a slightly denser grouping of trees.
The man gently rubbed Louis's back beneath the blanket.
"Do not worry about anything right now," he whispered, his tone becoming soft and intimate.
"Just try to breathe easy. We will get you warm and comfortable. You do not need to speak a single word until you are ready Louis."
The knights worked with impressive efficiency.
Within a short span of time, a small, shielded clearing was transformed into a rudimentary, safe camp.
A low-burning campfire crackled in the center, chasing the deepest shadows away and spreading a welcome warmth.
Louis was now sitting near the fire, still wrapped in the blanket, leaning against a cushion that one of the knights had immediately produced.
The adrenaline had faded, leaving him exhausted and aching.
The golden-haired man, who Louis still did not know the name of, returned from the shadows.
He approached the fire with a bucket of water in one hand and a stack of clean, loose-fitting fresh clothes in the other.
He knelt before Louis, his silver armor reflecting the soft glow of the flames.
The man was silent as he began to tend to Louis. He dipped a clean cloth into the water and, with painstaking slowness, started to gently clean the dirt and blood from Louis's hands and feet.
His movements were incredibly precise and careful, yet Louis still flinched slightly when the cool cloth touched the deeper scrapes and cuts on his shins.
Louis made some soft hurting noise but bearable.
The man paused his ministrations only long enough to look Louis in the eye, his blue gaze full of silent apology.
"I know this hurts, but we must prevent infection," he murmured, his voice low.
Once the initial cleaning was done, the man began to recount the details about him.
He continued to work, carefully dabbing a soothing salve on the worst of the bruises, speaking in a steady, calming voice that somehow sounded like fact, not fiction.
"We found you, Louis, just beyond the Black Forest border. We were moving to intercept the creatures that plague that area." The man's expression grew serious. "On the way back to the Holy Empire, your carriage was attacked by demons just after your facilitating a prayer for a bountiful festival at Timble Village."
He gently helped Louis slip into the clean, soft tunic, his touch brief and respectful. "It was a vicious ambush, but we drove them off. Your companions suffered grievous injuries, but you, thankfully, only sustained these surface wounds. A powerful blessing was clearly watching over you."
Louis listened carefully, eyes wide as he processed the bizarre, fantastical narrative.
Louis listen carefully, and thought one thing.
'This is not my story. The carriage, the Holy Empire, demons, and a village prayer? This must be the background of the characters or should I say the body he is occupying.'
The golden-haired man, now finished tending to Louis's minor injuries, placed the bucket and dirty cloth aside.
He remained kneeling before Louis, his deep blue eyes clouded with an intense sorrow.
The man began to apologize repeatedly.
"I should have been there, Louis. I should never have allowed you to travel with only the village guard. I was delayed at the northern border, and by the time I received the report, it was too late," he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. "I am responsible for your wounds. I was not there to protect you and so on."
The sincerity of his anguish was palpable; the man's eyes looked to be on the verge of tears.
He finally admitted the reason for his deep emotion.
"When I saw the carriage, I thought... I truly believed I had lost you too. After everything we went through as children... I cannot bear the thought of failing you again. I am so sorry, Louis."
It turns out that the man was this body's childhood friend.
Louis felt a sudden, profound stab of guilt for pretending to be the person this distraught man knew.
He needed to anchor himself in reality, or at least this game's reality. This was his chance. He finally have the chance to asked what is the man name.
"I... I am sorry," Louis started, his voice still weak and hoarse. "I truly do not mean to cause you pain, but... I do not remember your name."
The man went utterly still. The warmth of the fire seemed to dim around them. The fellow became silent, his blue eyes wide, staring at Louis with an expression of profound disbelief and dawning heartbreak.
"You... don't remember?" he asked, the words barely a whisper. "You do not remember me?"
Louis knew he could not take back the question now.
If he admitted the truth—that he was not Louis and was trapped in a game—he don't know how it would sound. He had to commit to the role of the injured, amnesiac friend.
Well since it is the truth, Louis then pretend to have amnesia. He lowered his gaze, forcing a look of confusion and helplessness.
"I remember nothing before waking up in that hut. Everything is gone. I do not even know why I was going to Timble Village."
The golden-haired man slumped slightly, closing his eyes as if in physical pain.
He took a long, shaking breath, clearly struggling to accept that Louis had forgotten everything.
When he finally looked back up, his eyes were red-rimmed, but his composure had returned, cloaked in a new layer of formality and duty.
The man finally introduce himself with difficulty. "Leon von Aegis, commander of the Lionheart Order," he said, the words heavy with a sadness that contradicted the strength in his name.
"I am your devoted friend, Louis. And I promise, I will not leave your side again."
Louis stared at the man who was now his childhood friend, commander, and self-appointed protector.
Leon's declaration was intense, almost reverent. Louis noticed the detail in the commander's voice, the depth of commitment in his blue eyes.
Leon then leaned in, his voice dropping slightly as if sharing a sacred secret, though he spoke clearly into the quiet air.
"Louis, I promised that I will quickly make a knights oath once I reached 20 to you to be your sworn knight. To be your blade and protector."
Leon muttered softly. "If it's wasn't for the law... I should have done it sooner ."
'A sworn knight? That is a serious relationship in a fantasy setting,' Louis thought, processing the layers of loyalty and intimacy in the commitment.
He also did the quick math. Leon had said "once I reached 20." He thought that it must be some kind of tradition to swore an oaths. One must need to be at 20 years old.
'The man is 19 then.' The age difference, though small, added another dimension to the childhood friendship that Louis knew nothing about.
He still had no idea who he was supposed to be. Gathering his composure, and trying to sound as though he was simply confirming details, he carefully asked next his name and age.
"I am sorry, Leon," Louis said softly, his voice still weak and hoarse. "My memory is still so clouded. I recall you calling me Louis, but... what is my full name? And how old am I?"
Leon's face softened, clearly mistaking Louis's questions for the genuine confusion of amnesia. "You are Louis Caelum de Luminaris," Leon stated, speaking the name with an almost royal weight. "And you are 17."
Louis instantly felt the floor drop out from under him. 'Seventeen? I am twenty years old in the real world. This body is seventeen.'
The difference was a chilling realization.
He was not just occupying a game avatar; he was occupying the body of a boy three years younger than himself, a boy named Louis Caelum de Luminaris, a name that sounded incredibly important.