Shortly after Knight finished dealing with the extermination unit of over fifty men, he galloped at full speed and managed to catch up with the villagers' procession just in time.
He didn't say a word, simply riding his horse silently at the rear. Both Lina and Aeta glanced back at him from time to time, but they didn't speak either. Lina looked back twice, her gaze lingering on his posture for a moment before turning away in silence. Aeta looked back more frequently, his wide eyes scanning from Knight's face to his armor and back again, as if searching for the right question, before finally turning forward to walk on quietly.
Knight's silence was due to the immense physical toll of using so much Fragment power. A piercing ache radiated through his body; although the heat in his blood had begun to subside, it still felt as if fire was racing through his veins. Every joint, every muscle, and every vessel the runes had surged through signaled that they had been pushed far beyond their limits. Sitting atop the horse was simultaneously a mercy and a torture.
'So this is the price of the power I hold...' Knight mused as he opened his status window.
Name: Knight [Fragments: 119/1000]
Class: —
Title: —
Physical Condition: Hyperthermia (High Body Heat), Slight Fatigue, Sleep Deprived
Equipment: Heavy Armor, Bracers, Greaves, Armored Boots
Inventory: General's Greatsword, Knight's Sword x2, Bag full of supplies
Skills: Eyes of Judgment, Flames of Judgment (NEW!)
'A new skill,' Knight stared at the final line for a long while. 'So I really can manifest skills from memories. If that's the case, the memories residing in other Fragments might grant even more skills, depending on what lies within them.'
His eyes then drifted to the numbers: 119/1000.
'Not even halfway yet,' he thought silently. The physical pain persisted, but his thoughts raced faster than the agony. 'I'm already this strong. If I collect all one thousand, just how powerful will I become?'
The question had no answer, and he was in no rush to find one. There were more pressing matters at hand. He looked at the villagers; their pace had slowed significantly. Each step was heavier than it had been that morning. Some walked with a tilt, others clutched their meager belongings with trembling hands. The children who had been running earlier were now barely able to move, some hoisted onto the chests of mothers who were just as exhausted.
Even Aeta, who had run to Lina with such enthusiasm that morning, was now dragging his feet through the grass. His hand still gripped Lina's tightly, but he no longer lifted his head to look around.
Evening had arrived. The sky shifted from blue to a burnt reddish-orange. The low afternoon sun cast long, stretching shadows from everyone in the column. Darkness would soon follow, and traveling through the night with exhausted people and dozens of children was far more dangerous than stopping to rest. It was best to find a campsite before nightfall. Even with the Red Cross Army looming behind them, these people would break physically before reaching the silver mist if pushed any further.
He made his decision.
"Everyone, halt! We are setting up camp for the night!"
Knight's voice rang out from the back of the line, firm and clear enough to pierce through their fog of exhaustion. The procession slowed and stopped. Some collapsed onto the grass immediately without waiting for further instructions, as if their legs had been praying for this command for hours.
A villager turned to Knight with weary eyes. "We're staying right here?"
"Not yet," Knight dismounted slowly. A sharper pain than expected shot through his legs as his feet hit the ground, but he didn't let it show. "We need cover first. This spot is too exposed."
He scanned the surroundings. The meadow stretched wide, but about two hundred meters to the west, a line of low trees stood in a row, likely the edge of a stream or a small gully. 'That will work.'
"Just a little further," he said, his voice softer than when he gave the command to halt. "See those trees? We'll rest there. Water, cover, and a decent view of the perimeter."
There were soft grumbles from some of the adults, but no one argued. They knew he was right. Lina looked at Knight for a moment, her eyes lingering on his hand which gripped the horse's reins with unusual tightness. She said nothing, but whispered something to Aeta before leading him forward.
The small stream beneath the treeline was exactly as Knight expected. The water was clear and slow enough to drink. The low trees provided a decent screen from the south, and the ground was level enough to sleep on without worrying about rocks or roots.
The villagers dispersed along the water's edge in silence. Fatigue made everyone naturally economical with words. Some knelt to scoop water with their hands; others sat against trees and closed their eyes instantly. Most of the children were out on the grass before the adults could even spread the blankets.
Aeta sat by Lina near the water, staring quietly at the flow before reaching down to dip his hand in repeatedly with no apparent purpose, as if the cold water helped him feel better.
Knight tied his horse to a tree and patrolled the area. His legs were sore but better than when he first dismounted. He activated the [Eyes of Judgment] to sweep the horizon. The red threads of every villager were intact, some wavered from exhaustion, but they remained strong. No hostile threads appeared within a concerning distance.
'Good enough for one night.'
"Sir Knight," called a middle-aged woman who had been with the procession from the start. She held out a small cloth bag. "Some food we have left. It's not much, but we can share."
Knight looked inside: two hard loaves of bread, some rolled dried meat, and a small clay jar of pickled vegetables. It was far too little for thirty people.
"Give it to the children and the elderly first," Knight returned the bag. "I have my own supplies."
The woman nodded and walked back. Knight watched her until she disappeared into the group. He removed his steel helmet and sat down against a tree some distance from the villagers far enough not to be a burden, but close enough to watch over them.
The evening chill began to replace the day's heat. The runes on his body glowed so faintly they were nearly invisible. The heat in his veins had subsided into a dull warmth; uncomfortable, but bearable. He ate his rations in silence, watching the sky darken as the first star appeared faint yet distinct.
"Brother Knight," Aeta's voice chirped beside him without warning. Knight looked down. The boy had sat beside him uninvited, just as Lina had done that morning.
"Can't sleep?" Knight asked.
"Not sleepy yet," Aeta replied with a tone far too honest to be suspicious. He sat with his knees to his chest, staring out at the darkening meadow. They sat in silence for a while.
"Does it hurt, Brother Knight?" Aeta asked softly, with a child's pure curiosity.
Knight looked down. "How did you notice?"
"When you got off the horse, you stopped for a bit before walking," Aeta said matter-of-factly, as if reporting data. "And you held the reins very tight the whole time. That's what people do when they are hurt but don't want to show it."
Knight didn't answer immediately.
"The village doctor taught me," Aeta added, falling silent as if he'd said enough.
'This kid...' Knight sighed softly. "You're very observant."
"Lina says observing people is the most important skill in the world," Aeta said seriously. "Because if we observe, we know how we can help."
Knight watched the boy for a moment, then looked back at the sky. "It hurts," he admitted. "But not enough to be a problem."
Aeta nodded as if he understood, then sat in silence. He didn't ask more, didn't try to comfort him; he just stayed there. The silence between them wasn't awkward; it was the kind of silence that didn't need filling.
"Aeta," Knight said after a while.
"Yes?"
"Tomorrow might be harder than today," he said bluntly. "The Red Cross Army is gathering. More will come. We'll need to move faster. Can you handle it?"
Aeta didn't answer right away. He sat still for a moment before whispering, "I can. I'm very strong."
Knight looked down. Aeta's wide eyes met him directly, no fear, no pretense, just the sincere question only a six-year-old could ask.
"Very well..." Knight replied.
Aeta nodded again, then let out a long, uncontrollable yawn. His small hand covered his mouth sheepishly.
"You're tired," Knight said, giving him a gentle nudge toward the sleeping villagers. "Go to sleep."
"Okay," Aeta stood up. He turned back one last time and whispered, "Thank you, Brother Knight."
"For what?"
Aeta didn't answer. He simply walked back to Lina, who was already fast asleep, and lay down quietly beside her.
Knight watched the boy until his eyes closed, then looked back up at the sky. More stars had appeared scattered, disorganized points of light, but beautiful in their own way. The heat in his veins faded further. The runes on his skin dimmed until they no longer glowed.
He remained leaning against the tree. He wouldn't sleep. He knew that tonight was not a night for resting. It was a night for watching.
And that was the only thing he could do for them tonight.