The sun rose on Hearthwood Haven, casting long shadows across the yard as the orphans went about their morning chores. Elya was, as usual, berating Kain for his apparent lack of precision while hammering nails into the fence.
"You're just smashing the wood!" she snapped, hands on her hips. "That's not how you're supposed to do it!"
Kain grunted, wiping sweat from his brow. "If you're so good at it, why don't you do it yourself?"
"Because I'm supervising!"
"You're being annoying!"
The argument showed no signs of ending until the Blade King strolled out of the house, his straw hat perched jauntily on his head. "Good morning, my industrious little apprentices," he said, his voice calm and mildly amused.
Elya turned toward him, her expression exasperated. "Master, can you please tell Kain that he's doing it wrong?"
The Blade King tilted his head, looking at the lopsided fence. "Hmm... it's true that it looks like it's been built by a very angry ox."
Kain threw his hands up. "See? I told you! Wait, wait—angry?"
The Blade King chuckled softly, walking over to examine the fence. "But you're improving," he added, patting Kain on the shoulder. "If you smash fewer nails tomorrow, you'll graduate to 'mildly upset ox.'"
Kain muttered something under his breath but went back to work.
Elya smirked triumphantly.
---
Before long, the morning peace was interrupted by a distant rumble of hoofbeats.
Elya, her ears sharper than most, turned toward the road. "Someone's coming."
The Blade King straightened his hat and peered down the dirt path. A cloud of dust rose on the horizon, resolving into the shapes of several large men on horseback.
Rina emerged from the house, her face tight with concern. "Mercenaries," she said grimly. "Fendrel must've sent them."
The orphans gathered near the porch, their voices a chorus of whispers and nervous questions.
"Mercenaries?" Kain asked, gripping the hammer tightly. "Are they here to fight us?"
Elya scowled. "Of course, they are. That slimy merchant can't take no for an answer!"
The Blade King, on the other hand, yawned lazily and stretched. "Don't worry. It'll be fine."
"Fine?" Elya said, incredulous. "There are six of them, and they're armed!"
"Seven," Lin chimed in, counting the riders. "And that guy in the middle looks really big."
Rina stepped closer to the Blade King, lowering her voice. "Master, this could be serious. These aren't just thugs—they're trained fighters."
"Trained, you say?" The Blade King's lips curved into a faint smile.
"Yes! And they'll—"
"Then it's best we let them tire themselves out before breakfast," he said breezily, stepping forward to meet the approaching riders.
---
The mercenaries reined in their horses near the gate, their leader—a towering man with a scar across his cheek—dismounting with a heavy thud. He carried a massive sword across his back and exuded the kind of swagger that came from years of intimidating lesser men.
"Listen up!" the leader barked, his voice booming. "We're here on behalf of Lord Fendrel to collect what's owed. You've got one chance to pay up before we start breaking things."
The Blade King adjusted his hat, his expression one of mild interest. "Breaking things? That sounds counterproductive."
The leader sneered. "What are you, the handyman? Stay out of this, old man, unless you want to get hurt."
The orphans watched from behind the fence, their faces pale. "Master's going to get himself killed," Elya muttered, clutching the railing.
But the Blade King showed no fear. Instead, he smiled warmly, pulling a small pouch from his robe. "I do believe you've misunderstood the situation."
"Oh?" the leader said, narrowing his eyes.
"Yes." The Blade King loosened the drawstring on the pouch and held it up. "Would you like to see why?"
The leader's greed was instantly piqued. He reached for the pouch, expecting a bribe, but the Blade King tossed it into the air.
The mercenaries' eyes followed the pouch as it sailed in an arc. Before it hit the ground, the Blade King's hand flicked out faster than the eye could see, striking the leader's wrist with just enough force to send his sword clattering to the ground.
"What the—?!" the leader shouted, clutching his wrist.
The Blade King crouched to pick up the fallen sword, tilting it this way and that as if appraising its quality. "Hmm. Not bad. A bit heavy on the pommel, though. Did you steal this from a blacksmith, or is it an heirloom?"
The leader's face turned red. "You're dead, old man!"
He lunged, swinging a punch toward the Blade King's head.
Without moving from his spot, the Blade King casually tilted his head, causing the blow to miss by inches. The leader stumbled forward, his momentum carrying him into the fence, which promptly broke under his weight.
"Careful," the Blade King said mildly. "We just fixed that."
The other mercenaries, now angry and embarrassed, dismounted and charged toward him.
---
The next few moments were a blur of chaos, at least for the mercenaries.
One man swung a spear, only to have it caught between the Blade King's fingers and snapped in half with a casual twist. Another attempted a high kick, but the Blade King stepped aside, letting him crash into a barrel.
Lin gasped, clapping his hands. "Did you see that? He tripped on his own!"
"He didn't trip, you idiot," Elya hissed.
"I dunno," Kain said, watching as another mercenary flailed wildly at thin air. "Master is really good at looking lucky."
The leader, now covered in dirt and splinters, staggered to his feet and shouted, "Get him, you fools!"
The Blade King sighed and shook his head. "Honestly, you should've just stayed for tea."
With a single motion, he grabbed the rope securing a pile of firewood and yanked it free. The logs tumbled down, creating an avalanche that knocked the remaining mercenaries off their feet.
---
By the time the dust settled, the mercenaries were sprawled across the yard, groaning and clutching their bruises.
The leader glared up at the Blade King, who leaned down to meet his gaze. "You seem a bit unsteady," he said cheerfully. "Maybe you should sit down and think about your life choices."
The leader growled, but his injuries—and his pride—kept him from making another move. "You'll regret this," he muttered, crawling back toward his horse.
"I'm sure I will," the Blade King replied, tipping his hat. "Now, do be careful on your way back. That road's been awfully slippery lately."
The mercenaries retreated, limping and muttering curses under their breath.
---
As soon as they were out of sight, the orphans erupted in excitement.
"That was amazing!" Lin shouted, jumping up and down. "Did you see how they all fell over like dominoes?"
Kain nodded vigorously. "It was like he planned it!"
Elya crossed her arms, glaring at the Blade King. "He did plan it. Right, Master?"
The Blade King gave her a cryptic smile. "Perhaps they were just unlucky."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Believe what you like," he said, patting her on the head.
Rina approached, her expression a mixture of relief and exasperation. "Master, what happens when Fendrel sends someone stronger?"
The Blade King's gaze drifted toward the horizon, his smile fading slightly. "Then I'll teach them the same lesson: it's not wise to underestimate Hearthwood Haven."
His voice was calm, but there was an edge of steel beneath it that made Rina shiver.
---
As the orphans resumed their chores, Lin declared that the orphanage must be protected by a "guardian spirit" who scared away bad guys. The rumor spread like wildfire, and soon the children were inventing stories about their invisible protector.
The Blade King, sitting quietly on the porch, chuckled softly to himself.
Let them have their stories, he thought. The truth would only make their heads spin.