"Kill you?"
Harry tilted his head, examining the girl before him. There was something unsettling about her calm, unwavering gaze. "Why would you say that?"
The girl's expression remained blank, as if his question held no weight. "Because you were bitten by my mother."
Harry's eyes narrowed, tracing her words with care. There was something cold, almost clinical, in the way she continued, "Her mark has entered your body. You won't live long."
Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. It wasn't fear but a sense of impending reality, a dark certainty in her voice that was hard to ignore.
"Just like those people before," she added, as if this truth was as simple as saying the sky was blue.
Those people before. Her words lingered like a dark echo in the night air. Harry cast his gaze down to the lifeless form of the girl's mother sprawled on the ground, her face twisted in an eerie expression of rage frozen in death. He thought back to the villagers he'd encountered, the terrified expressions etched on their faces as they shouted for justice, for protection. They'd demanded to burn the woman and her daughter, to end their terror once and for all.
Yet, looking down at her now, Harry felt an uncomfortable understanding creep over him. If the villagers had acted on their threat, it would have been their own doom. For even he; Harry, a skilled fighter hardened by years of experience, had barely survived the monstrous strength her mother had unleashed.
In a twisted way, it was as if he'd saved them all by taking the mother and daughter with him, drawing the danger away from them. The irony settled uncomfortably in his gut, and he shook his head, banishing the thought.
He turned back to the girl, standing amidst the shadows cast by the moon. Her face, so young and innocent, contrasted harshly with the lifeless corpse at her feet. He could feel something dark and ancient in her presence, a power not yet fully revealed.
"I won't kill you," he said finally, meeting her gaze with a steely resolve. "You're still useful to me."
She tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Am I... still useful?"
A faint glimmer appeared in her gaze, a spark of something almost hopeful, though he chose not to dwell on it. He had seen too much darkness to believe in fleeting hints of innocence.
Ignoring her reaction, Harry gritted his teeth and turned back to the task at hand. Exhausted and in pain from the night's ordeal, he forced himself to lift the woman's body, carrying her to a quiet spot where he could bury her under cover of darkness.
The following morning, with the sun casting soft warmth over the land, he set out with the girl toward Sentra City. They traveled in silence, each step bringing them closer to the fortified walls and guarded gates of the safest place he knew. In Sentra City, danger was kept at bay by towering walls and the watchful eyes of guards. It was a place of safety, the last shred of normalcy he could offer the girl.
Once inside, Harry used the meager savings he'd scraped together over the years to buy a small house on the edge of town. It wasn't much, but it was safe, and for now, that was all he needed.
He looked at the girl, still silent beside him, and said, "You'll need a name here."
She blinked up at him, eyes wide with an unreadable expression.
"I'll call you Mary," he said, hoping the name might add a touch of warmth, a connection to this world she seemed so distant from.
Time passed swiftly. Days turned into weeks, weeks into years. In the blink of an eye, a decade had slipped away. Mary grew, blossoming from a solemn child into a striking young woman. Her hair had grown long, spilling over her shoulders in waves, and her once-empty gaze had softened, lit with new friendships and a subtle smile.
And then, one evening, as dusk painted the sky in hues of gold and purple, the two of them stood together in the sprawling courtyard of their home, a quiet, almost sacred place where they often met at the end of each day.
"You're dying," she said, breaking the silence.
Harry looked at her, startled by the calm certainty in her voice. Her words held the same quiet weight as they had all those years ago, echoing with the same unsettling calm.
In the dim light of the courtyard, Mary stood before Harry, her brow furrowed with worry. She could see the toll that time had taken on him, his once-black hair was now streaked with gray, and deep lines etched his weathered face. It was a stark reminder that life was slipping away from him.
"Harry," she said softly, her voice trembling, "you look… different."
He met her gaze, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. "Ten years will do that, Mary. The world doesn't pause for anyone."
Mary stepped closer, her heart heavy with concern. "You're not well. Ever since… ever since my mother's mark entered you, you've been fading. It's like you're running out of time."
Harry sighed, the weight of her words pressing down on him. It had only been a decade since that fateful encounter, but it felt like a lifetime. Ten years ago, he had been full of vigor, a knight apprentice with the strength and resilience to last for decades. But now, the mark of her mother was a heavy burden, sapping his vitality more rapidly than he could have imagined.
"Ten years ago, I thought I could harness this power," he admitted, rubbing his temples as if to ease a growing ache. "I've pushed my body to its limits; experimenting, trying to extract your blood, thinking it might strengthen me."
Mary's eyes widened in disbelief. "But… why would you do that? Your life is worth more than some experiments!"
"It's more than just that," he replied, a hint of desperation in his tone. "Your blood is unique. It holds the ability to unlock the potential in others. Each time I injected it into myself, I felt stronger, but…" He hesitated, looking away. "It came at a cost. I thought I could reach the level of a true knight, but instead, it has drained me faster."
Mary shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "This isn't fair, Harry. You've done so much for me. I can't just stand by and watch you fade away."
"Now I need to draw blood from you," he said gently, trying to keep his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. "It might give you more time, a chance to live longer."
"Is that what you really want?" she asked, her voice breaking. "To take my blood? It feels like… like you're giving up."
"Listen to me," Harry said, his tone firm but kind. "Taking your blood isn't about giving up. It's about ensuring you have a future. I've reached the peak of what I can achieve. My journey as a knight has come to an end, but yours… yours is just beginning."
Mary looked at him, her heart aching. Over the past decade, he had become more than just a protector; he was family. The thought of losing him felt like losing a part of herself. "You can't leave me. You're all I have left."
Harry stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I've cherished every moment we've spent together. But you must take care of yourself first. You deserve a life beyond this."
"But I don't want to live without you!" she exclaimed, frustration mingling with sorrow.
"Then make my sacrifice count," he urged, his voice softer now. "You have the strength to carry on. You can be more than I ever was. Please, let me do this for you."
With a heavy heart, Mary nodded, knowing she had to trust him. The bond they had formed over the years was unbreakable, and she would carry his spirit with her, no matter what happened next. "Just promise me you'll be okay."
"I promise to fight," he said, determination flickering in his eyes. "But this is the only way forward."
As they prepared for the inevitable, the courtyard was filled with an unspoken understanding, a bond forged in hardship and love, echoing in the silence between them.
''Death is another beginning.''
For Harry, the idea of death was not the end but a doorway back to his original world, a chance to start anew. He felt a strange comfort in that thought; death was merely a transition, a return to where it all began.
"What is there to fear?" he mused, glancing at Mary. Her situation, however, was far more precarious.
"There's a force out there," he said, his voice steady but heavy with concern. "An unknown entity has been hunting your tribe. They have methods, ways to sense your presence. Sooner or later, they'll find you."
Mary's eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked her fear with resolve. "What do I need to do?"
Harry studied her, admiration swelling in his chest. "You need to become as strong as possible. If you want to stay safe, you can't just wait for them to come. You must prepare."
"I will," she affirmed, her voice strong despite the weight of the situation. "I've already surpassed you."
A smile tugged at the corners of Harry's lips. He had seen her growth firsthand. Over the years, she had mastered the knight's Aura Technique he'd taught her, showing an extraordinary talent for it. Today, she stood on the brink of becoming a true knight's apprentice, her natural abilities even eclipsing his own.
"It's not enough to just surpass me," he cautioned gently. "You need to be even stronger than that. This isn't a game, Mary."
"I know," she replied, determination gleaming in her eyes. "I won't let you down."
Harry felt a swell of pride mixed with a bittersweet pang. When he had first taken her in, his intentions had been cold, driven purely by his desire to extract as much Simulation Energy as possible. But caring for her had changed him. Slowly, he had let down his walls, accepting her not just as a means to an end but as a daughter.
He had poured everything he knew into her training, sharing his skills, techniques, and wisdom. And Mary had excelled. She was a prodigy, absorbing every lesson with a quickness that left him in awe.
"Perhaps it's only someone as gifted as you who could cause the Simulation Coin to fluctuate and access that energy," he thought. "You truly are something special."
As the weeks turned into months, Harry's confidence in Mary solidified. He believed in her future, in her potential to rise above the challenges that lay ahead.
Time marched on.
In the blink of an eye, two months had slipped by. The oppressive heat of summer began to wane, and the air grew cooler, hinting at the change of seasons.
But as the days passed, Harry felt the weight of his own existence fading. He could sense it in his bones, a quiet inevitability. His life, once vibrant and full of purpose, was nearing its end, and soon he would be separated from this world.
"Mary," he said one evening, the sun casting long shadows across the courtyard, "whatever happens, remember that you are stronger than you think. You carry the future with you."
She looked at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, but she held her chin high. "I won't forget you, Harry. You've taught me everything I need to know."
"I have faith in you," he replied, his voice firm but warm. "You'll face the challenges ahead and emerge victorious. Just promise me you'll always fight for what's right."
"I promise," she said, her voice unwavering, though her heart was heavy.
As the last light of day faded, Harry felt a sense of peace wash over him. He knew he wouldn't be here to see Mary's journey unfold, but in his heart, he believed she would carry on his legacy.
And as he took one final breath, he embraced the idea that this wasn't the end, merely the beginning of a new chapter, both for him and for the remarkable girl he had raised.