"...Forgive me. Because of my carelessness—"
The man in the darkness stopped him.
"It's fine." His voice was calm, but it carried weight. "That corrupted beast was simply stronger than expected."
Nothing more. No blame. No anger.
The black sword in his hand slowly shrank — the void-like energy collapsing inward until it settled into the shape of a simple, expensive black walking cane. The man stepped into the flickering light of the campfire, casually fixing the collar of his silk coat.
Arthur straightened.
"Seeing that sword again brought back memories, My Lord."
It was the merchant.
Leo hadn't moved. His eyes hadn't left the man since the blade had appeared. The person he had been guarding this entire journey — the one sitting quietly in the carriage, the one who asked about camping spots and watched his son fall asleep — was the most powerful one among them.
And none of them had known.
The merchant looked down at the silver handle of his cane for a moment.
"Yes," he said. "It's been years since I last drew this blade."
The two of them moved through the mud toward the canopy. Arthur looked at his own sword as he walked, and lowered his head slightly.
"Sir."
"Yes."
"When will I..." He paused. "When will I reach that level? The black aura." He exhaled. "Master always said very few ever touch it."
The merchant glanced at him. The mild, polite trader was gone. His eyes now held something sharper — the gaze of a man used to being obeyed.
"Don't sell yourself short. At your age, reaching your current level is no small thing." He paused. "And breaking your limits can happen in a heartbeat. Just like it did for Leo tonight."
Both of them looked at Leo at the same moment.
He was staring right back.
Both stopped.
A silence passed. They had forgotten the same thing at the exact same time. In front of everyone else, he was supposed to be just a merchant.
The warmth in the merchant's eyes disappeared. What replaced it was quiet and cold.
Arthur stepped between them immediately, head lowered.
"My Lord. He is my apprentice. I swear my life on his silence."
The merchant looked at Arthur for a long moment. Then he tapped his cane gently against the mud.
"Very well."
---
They settled near the fire.
Corpses lay scattered around the camp. The air was thick with rot and scorched flesh. Exhaustion had settled into everything.
"No idea how long Clad's going to take," Arthur said, holding his hands over the flame.
Then Leo walked over and sat down directly beside the merchant.
The merchant glanced at him. "Yes?"
Leo's eyes were burning with curiosity, even now, in the middle of all this.
"Ahem... something on your mind?"
"Is that the highest level of knight aura? The one that can cut through anything?"
"Yes," the merchant said. "But—"
"But what, My Lord?"
The merchant was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice had shifted. Not the weight of command. Something smoother, more deliberate — the tone of a man who understood the value of information.
"If you swear not to speak of what happened tonight, I'll tell you one more thing."
Leo dropped to one knee immediately.
"I, Leo, disciple of Arthur—"
He drew his sword an inch from its sheath. Before he could finish, the silver tip of the merchant's cane pressed gently against the hilt and slid it back into place with a soft click.
"A knight's word is enough," the merchant said quietly. "Save your oaths for the battlefield."
Leo blinked. He wasn't sure why, but he stayed quiet.
The merchant leaned in slightly. "Do you know there's a level above this one? One with no limit to its power?"
Leo's eyes went wide. "There's a level above—"
"Leo."
A voice from behind. Jack.
Leo turned with the expression of someone yanked out of a dream at the best part.
"What."
Jack shifted his weight. "It's just... Clad needs medicine from the wagon. For the child."
"So?"
"Come with me. I'm scared."
"Can't you see I'm in the middle of—"
"Leo." Arthur's voice. Quiet. Final.
Leo stopped.
"Go."
The merchant added, "Handle the work first. This conversation isn't going anywhere."
"...As you wish."
Leo sheathed his sword and walked toward the wagon with Jack, returned with medicine and herbs, and passed them through the tent flap to Clad.
---
The storm had passed.
A cold, quiet wind moved through the trees. The fire crackled.
Arthur looked at the corpses scattered around them.
"Dawn's only a few hours away," he said. "But these monsters..." He paused. "They weren't at this level before."
The merchant nodded slowly. "First-rate corrupted beasts. This forest takes two full days to cross — very few people pass through, which means these creatures have lived undisturbed for years. No one hunts them. No one drives them back." He looked out at the dark treeline. "Their numbers have only grown."
Arthur's gaze stayed on the darkness. "But that's exactly what doesn't sit right." He turned. "Creatures like this don't leave their territory. So why did they come this far out?"
"You're not wrong," the merchant said. "Something is off. I would have brought your Master if I'd known — but this feels like something else entirely."
The tent flap moved.
Clad stepped out, wiping his hands on a bloodstained rag. He settled near the fire without a word.
Arthur looked at him. "Well?"
"You're right that something's off." Clad paused, staring into the flame. "But it's not just the monsters."
"What do you mean?"
Clad was quiet for a moment. When he looked up, his voice had dropped.
"This child. And his seal."
"What about it?" Arthur asked.
Clad stared into the fire.
"That seal wasn't placed on this child to protect him."
---
**[Chapter 3 — End]**