(If I want to stop the war that's coming… if I want to change the fate of this world… I have to become strong. Strong enough to fight against everything—even the destiny the author wrote.)
The pond nearby reflected his figure, the heavy sword across his back, and for the first time, Kael felt that he no longer belonged to the story the author had written. He would write his own.
For a heartbeat, Kael wanted to refuse. But when he looked at the woman's pale face, and then at the boy standing beside her, his small hands clenched tightly into fists as if he, too, wanted to be strong, Kael hesitated no longer.
He bowed his head slightly.
"…Thank you. Thank you very much."
The boy, already fighting sleep after staying up all night to watch over his mother, leaned against the doorway. His eyes drooped but his lips curved in a faint smile.
"Brother Kael… when I grow up, I'll fight beside you."
