Guto found himself investing more time with Erik, refining his skills and imparting his knowledge. Each day, under the golden embrace of the sun, they'd convene at the training grounds.
"Always remember, Erik," Guto coached, "with those daggers, your greatest assets are speed and precision. Strike swiftly and with unwavering accuracy. Your smaller stature can be an advantage."
Erik, a diligent pupil, nodded in understanding. His movements grew more fluid as he absorbed Guto's wisdom. With every swing and thrust, the boy's determination and newfound expertise shone through. Guto couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in Erik's progress.
***
In a squalid city far removed from their serene village, the scent of decay and despair weighed heavily upon the air. A world-weary bounty hunter, garbed in rags and exuding relentless determination, navigated the grimy, labyrinthine streets.
With a keen eye, the bounty hunter scanned the city's walls and posts adorned with wanted posters. Amidst a sea of faces, one particular poster seized immediate attention. It prominently displayed Guto's visage, labeled "Wanted: Alive!" with a substantial bounty of gold coins proffered for his capture. Beneath the reward, the poster ominously underscored, "Highly Dangerous."
***
Dastan, a heartbroken father, knelt in solemn prayer at his daughter's bedside. The room remained dimly lit, the silence punctuated solely by the faint murmur of his whispered entreaties. At his feet lay one of the wanted posters showcasing Guto's countenance, gently illuminated by the flickering candlelight.
"My dearest daughter," he murmured, tears tracing down his cheeks. His voice quavered with profound, heart-rending sorrow. "I beseech for your recovery. I pray for the fortitude to confront the trials ahead."
Dastan's heart sagged beneath the weight of his grief, the wanted poster serving as a constant reminder of the man he believed could provide a lifeline for his daughter. With the generous reward offered for Guto's capture, Dastan harbored the hope of securing an underground physician capable of mending her. Hope clung to him, yet his desperation was palpable, casting a long shadow over his every thought and prayer.
As he continued to beseech, a solitary tear trickled from his eye, descending upon the wanted poster beside him. It glistened like a precious gem in the candlelight. The room seemed to reverberate with the profound heaviness of his anguish, a father's love and mourning interwoven in a moment of intense sadness.
***
Meanwhile, ensconced within an obscure chamber in the Neglected City, Dyskólios engaged in hushed discourse with an enigmatic figure. They leaned in close, their conversation a web of whispered mysteries.
The shadowy figure revealed a pouch brimming with gold coins, setting it on the table. "Gold, as promised. Name your price."
Dyskólios leaned nearer. "Gold is tempting, but there's something else I covet. Frø- I mean Amber may be elusive, but I have reason to believe she'll grace this very city within a matter of days."
The figure's curiosity was thoroughly piqued. "How can you be so certain?"
Dyskólios's lips curled into a sly smile concealed beneath the mask. "She works for me as a mercenary. Recently, she attempted a train heist, hoping to make her escape, but things didn't go as planned. She returned empty-handed."
The figure mulled over Dyskólios's words for a brief moment. "Very well. If you're confident about her arrival, what do you seek in return?"
Dyskólios's gaze bore into the concealed eyes of the figure. "Upon Amber's return to this city, I want your guarantee that you will assist me in capturing a young boy traveling with her. Alive."
The figure hesitated, tempted by the prospect of finding Amber. "Who is this boy, and why do you want him?"
Dyskólios leaned back, his thoughts shrouded in the veil of shadows. "Let's just say there's some unfinished business to attend to."
The figure nodded deliberately, their voice tinged with caution. "Agreed. When Amber returns, we'll support you in capturing the boy, alive. But remember, Dyskólios, our patience is not endless. Don't betray us."
Dyskólios's smirk remained concealed beneath the mask. "You have my word. When the time is right, we'll secure our prize, and you'll receive your gold. Until then, stay vigilant, and keep your weapons ready."
With their clandestine pact sealed, Dyskólios and the enigmatic figure shook hands.