The forest remained silent.
Not peaceful.
Not calm.
Silent in the way a battlefield becomes silent after the fighting ends.
Heavy.
Unsettling.
The knight knelt on the ground, holding Arin tightly in his arms.
His breathing was rough.
Uneven.
Each breath pulled painfully through his chest.
Blood continued to seep from the deep wound on his shoulder, soaking into the fabric of his tunic.
Warm.
Sticky.
Relentless.
But he ignored it.
Because the boy in his arms mattered more.
Arin's body felt light.
Too light.
His skin was pale, almost colorless, and a thin trail of blood had dried beneath his nose.
His breathing was shallow.
Fragile.
The knight lowered his head slightly.
Relief and fear twisted together inside his chest.
"You did it," he whispered.
His voice trembled despite his effort to stay calm.
"You survived."
Arin stirred weakly.
His eyelids fluttered open.
The world around him looked blurry.
Distant.
Like a dream fading too slowly.
"Is it… over?" he asked.
His voice was barely louder than the wind.
The knight nodded once.
"Yes."
Arin exhaled slowly.
A long, shaky breath.
Then—
His gaze drifted past the knight.
Toward the fallen creature lying several steps away.
The beast's massive body remained sprawled across the forest floor.
Its glowing eyes had dimmed.
Its chest no longer moved.
Its claws lay motionless in the dirt.
Still.
Silent.
Gone.
The knight followed his gaze.
His expression hardened.
Even after years of battle, caution had become instinct.
"Stay here," he said firmly.
He gently set Arin down on the ground and forced himself to stand.
Pain shot through his injured shoulder.
Sharp.
Blinding.
He gritted his teeth and steadied himself.
His sword felt heavier than usual.
Not because of weight.
Because of exhaustion.
Step by step, he approached the beast.
Carefully.
Watching for movement.
Listening for breath.
Prepared for one last attack.
Nothing happened.
Still—
He raised his sword.
And with one clean motion—
He struck.
The blade cut downward.
Final.
Decisive.
Certain.
Silence followed.
Deep.
Absolute.
The creature did not move again.
The threat was gone.
The knight lowered his sword slowly.
His shoulders sagged for the first time since the battle began.
Then he turned back.
Arin sat quietly on the ground.
Small hands resting on his knees.
Breathing uneven but steady.
Alive.
Their eyes met.
For a long moment—
Neither spoke.
Finally, the knight returned and knelt beside him.
His expression serious.
Thoughtful.
Heavy with realization.
"You must listen carefully," he said.
Arin blinked slowly.
Still tired.
Still weak.
But fully aware.
"What happened back there…"
The knight paused.
Choosing his words carefully.
"…was not normal."
The truth hung in the air between them.
Cold.
Unavoidable.
Arin looked down at his hands.
They looked ordinary.
Small.
Weak.
Human.
"I didn't mean to do it," he said quietly.
The knight shook his head.
"That does not matter."
He placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder.
Steady.
Reassuring.
"You saved my life."
The words settled heavily in Arin's chest.
A strange mixture of pride and fear spread through him.
"Was it magic?" he asked.
The knight hesitated.
For the first time—
He did not have an answer.
"I do not know," he admitted.
Silence followed.
Wind finally returned to the forest.
Leaves rustled gently.
Branches swayed overhead.
The world began to breathe again.
But the knight's thoughts remained troubled.
Because he had felt it.
That pressure.
That strange force.
It had not felt like magic.
Magic was warm.
Flowing.
Alive.
This power had felt different.
Cold.
Heavy.
Unnatural.
Like something that erased magic itself.
The realization sent a chill down his spine.
"From today forward," he said slowly,
"your life will change."
Arin looked up.
Confusion flickered across his face.
"Why?" he asked.
The knight met his gaze.
His voice became firm.
Certain.
Unyielding.
"Because power attracts danger."
He paused.
Then added quietly:
"And yours will attract more danger than most."
The words settled heavily in the boy's mind.
The knight stood slowly.
Despite the pain.
Despite the exhaustion.
Despite the bleeding wound.
His decision was made.
"Your training begins now," he said.
Arin blinked.
"Now?" he repeated.
The knight nodded once.
"Yes."
He turned toward the distant village path.
His voice steady.
Determined.
"In one year," he said,
"you will be ready to leave this village."
Arin's eyes widened slightly.
"Leave?" he asked.
The knight looked back at him.
His expression calm.
But serious.
"You will enter the Academy."
The word carried weight.
Importance.
Destiny.
In this world, the Academy was where warriors were forged.
Where magic was mastered.
Where legends were born.
Arin felt his heartbeat quicken.
Fear.
Excitement.
Uncertainty.
All at once.
"One year," the knight repeated.
A clear goal.
A clear deadline.
A clear future.
Far away—
Deep beneath the ruins of the fallen palace—
The ancient stone seal trembled once more.
Another crack spread slowly across its surface.
Chains rattled violently in the darkness.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
And a voice whispered from the shadows:
"Prepare the hunters."