I moved quickly through the village, the thrum of unease already palpable in the air as villagers gathered in clusters, eyes wide and voices hushed. The Village Head, a wiry man whose beard seemed more white than grey, hurried past me with an urgency that did little to comfort the crowd. My chest tightened as I followed, my spear gripped tight and my senses flaring. Whatever this was, it wasn't good.
When we reached the clearing at the village's edge, the sight before me stole the breath from my lungs. There, bathed in the dappled light filtering through the trees, stood a contingent of knights clad in gleaming gold and white armor, their polished surfaces catching the sun and casting sharp glares. The insignia on their breastplates—a dragon coiled around a flaming spear—marked them unmistakably as the Golden Dragon Knights, one of the most formidable orders in the Killion Empire.
Every muscle in my body tensed as I studied them, eyes landing on the man at their forefront. His presence radiated like a storm contained in flesh and steel, commanding attention without a word. He was taller than the others, with armor gilded not just for show but for the strength it symbolized. This was no ordinary knight; this was a Golden Dragon Knight Captain, a warrior who had ascended to the Indigo Stage, wielding weapons that resonated with their very souls. His aura hummed with power, a fierce pulse that seemed to twist the air around him.
And in that moment, I knew. The current me, even with all I'd fought for, would stand no chance against him with my spear alone. Not yet.
With a subtle pulse of mana, I checked the enchantment on my disguise, feeling the reassuring warmth of the artifact's magic settle over me. The illusion held firm, hiding my true identity beneath the guise of Arlan.
The Village Head stepped forward, his head bowed, trembling under the weight of the Captain's gaze. "W-what brings such esteemed knights to our humble village?" he stammered, dropping to his knees in a show of deference. Around us, the villagers mirrored his action, eyes averted and shoulders hunched like blades of grass under a strong wind.
The Captain's eyes, cold as tempered steel, swept over the crowd, lingering for a heartbeat longer on Evelyn before settling back on the Village Head. When he spoke, his voice was deep and resonant, laced with mana that vibrated through the very earth beneath our feet.
"We have just returned from the successful subjugation of an A-class beast and require shelter for the night," he said, though it was less a request and more an edict. The mana woven into his words pressed down on us, a tangible force that made my bones hum with the urge to kneel. I clenched my jaw, fighting the instinct with a pulse of mana from my core.
Something was wrong. The way his aura roiled, restless and overbearing, set my nerves on edge. There was a tension in the air that spoke of more than just tired knights seeking rest. The Captain's eyes, sharp and unyielding, searched the gathered faces as if hunting for something—or someone.
'Why so forceful?' I wondered, narrowing my gaze as the unease curled deeper in my chest.
Evelyn, who had been standing a few paces behind me, shifted imperceptibly, her eyes locked on the Captain. Her expression remained calm, but I caught the subtle tightening of her jaw. This was no ordinary visit, and we both knew it.
"Let's go back," I whispered to Evelyn, guiding a thin thread of mana from my core to weave a shroud around us. It was a careful dance—hiding ourselves from a knight captain whose sheer presence weighed on the air like an impending storm. His mana surpassed mine in raw power, making stealth a delicate act. But it was possible, just barely.
Evelyn nodded, her eyes betraying a flicker of fear as she glanced back at the villagers, who still knelt in uneasy silence. I led her swiftly down the winding path, the noise of our retreat swallowed by the rustle of leaves and the ever-present roar of the distant waterfall. We slipped into her hut, its walls sturdy yet humble, nestled slightly apart from the rest of the village.
"Are the Golden Dragon Knights supposed to act like that?" Evelyn asked as she closed the door, her voice low but strained.
I shook my head, the movement slow and heavy. "No," I said, the word pressing against my chest. "They are meant to be the Empire's defenders—honorable men who uphold justice, serving not only the Evereux Imperial family but the people as well. This…" I trailed off, the unsettling behavior of the captain gnawing at my thoughts. Something was amiss, something that went beyond a routine mission for rest.
The tension in my limbs settled into a familiar pressure. A gnawing voice whispered in the back of my mind, cataloging options and outcomes. I could fight, of course. I could summon my sword, the weapon that felt as much a part of me as my own heart. In a direct confrontation, I could take down the captain. But the twenty knights he commanded were another matter. My mana core, still lagging behind my mastery of the sword, would deplete too quickly. Even a victory would bleed me dry before I reached the safety of the forest.
'I need to reach Indigo stage,' I thought, the realization settling in my bones like lead. The spear, not the sword, was my path forward, and I needed to push beyond this impasse before it was too late.
I turned to Evelyn, words forming with hesitation. "Come with me," I said, the plea catching in my throat.
Her eyes widened, dark pools reflecting a tumult of emotions—surprise, fear, and something else I couldn't name. A moment stretched between us, taut as a bowstring. Then she shook her head, resolute and immediate.
"No," she whispered, her voice as firm as stone. "This is my home, Arlan. Whatever comes, I can't abandon these people."
I clenched my fists at my side, the weight of her decision settling like stones in my chest. "Evelyn, if the captain's intentions are not what they seem—"
"I know," she interrupted, a tremor passing through her voice. But she lifted her chin, defiance sparking in her eyes. "But I can't run, not while they need me."
I met her gaze, searching for an argument that wouldn't sound like betrayal. None came. She was right in her way; this village was more than a place. It was her world, fragile yet unyielding. And she would not leave it to face the storm alone.
"Then we prepare," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. The path ahead was uncertain, shrouded in the shadow of armored knights and the golden insignia they bore. But in that small hut, with the scent of herbs and the familiar hum of Evelyn's mana brushing against mine, I felt a flicker of resolve. If the storm was coming, then we would meet it, not as prey but as those who had chosen to stand.