The morning sun slipped between the branches, painting the forest floor in gentle gold. Hal stirred awake, letting out a soft yawn. Beside him, the mercenary sat slouched on a fallen log, hat tilted forward, sleeping soundly with his arms crossed.
Hal blinked at the man, hesitated, then quietly stood. His legs still ached faintly from the night before, but he pushed on. He didn't want to be a burden—not anymore.
He stepped carefully into the woods, remembering the pages of every book he had ever read. So what if I can't cast advanced spells? he thought. Knowledge can be its own weapon.
He fashioned a crude basket from thick, fibrous leaves, weaving them with clumsy but determined hands. Then, deeper into the forest, he found them—clusters of mushrooms nestled against damp bark.
Hal crouched, studying them. One cap was a warm brown, dotted with faint specks of white. His lips curved in a small, almost proud smile.
"Softcap mushroom," he muttered to himself. "Safe to eat… and even better if grilled."
His gaze shifted to the other cluster—caps of eerie blue, marbled with green spots. His face hardened.
"This one's poisonous," he whispered. "The colors give it away… dangerous if you don't know the difference."
He plucked only the brown ones, careful and methodical. For the first time in a long while, Hal felt a quiet sense of worth. Maybe he couldn't wield power like the others, but here, in this cruel and unforgiving world, knowledge and will might just keep him alive.
The crackle of firewood carried through the clearing, followed by the faint, savory scent of something roasting. The mercenary stirred in his sleep, nose twitching.
"Hmmm…" He tilted his hat back, sniffing the air. "What's that smell?"
Hal turned quickly, a small smile tugging his lips. "You're awake, mister. I… uh, gathered some mushrooms. Thought we could have breakfast."
The mercenary leaned forward, squinting at the sizzling caps skewered over the flames. His brows lifted. "Kid… you sure those ain't poisonous?"
Hal sat straighter, his voice steady. "Don't worry. I've read plenty of books about plants and fungi. The softcap mushroom's safe. Brown with white flecks. The blue ones with green dots are toxic—I left those behind."
There was silence for a beat, broken only by the fire. Then the mercenary's lips curled into a grin, revealing teeth beneath his stubble.
"Heh. Strategy." He tapped the side of his head with one gloved finger. "That's a rarer talent than most folks give credit for. When I say talent, I don't just mean swingin' swords or flingin' fireballs. I mean knowledge."
He reached over, plucked a skewer from the fire, and blew on it casually. "Most people charge through life swingin' blind. But you? You're thinkin' ahead. That's how you survive."
Hal blinked, caught off guard. For the first time, someone wasn't calling him useless.
The mercenary bit into the mushroom, chewed, then smirked. "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all."
Hal watched him chew, a mix of nerves and hope bubbling inside. "So… how was it?" he asked softly.
The mercenary—hat tipped back, firelight glinting in his sharp eyes—paused as if giving the mushroom a serious trial. Then, with a slow nod, he said, "Huh. First time I've had somethin' like this. Tastes like chicken… weird, but delicious." He chuckled, taking another bite without hesitation.
Relief flooded Hal, and for once, a little pride too.
"By the way, mister…" Hal hesitated, fingers fidgeting. "I didn't… I don't know your name."
The mercenary glanced at him, chewing slow. "My name?"
"Yes," Hal nodded.
The man leaned back, smoke and shadows curling around him, and finally spoke. "It's… Caed." He tapped the brim of his hat. "Caed's the name, kid."
Hal repeated it under his breath. "Caed…"
Caed shifted his gaze back to the fire. "Tell ya what. I'm headin' to the next city. Got business there." He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eye. "Interested in taggin' along?"
Hal blinked, startled. "C-can I?"
"'Course you can, kiddo. Don't worry none—I know folks there, places to stay. I'll even teach you a trick or two, long as you're keen to learn."
Hal's chest warmed, a faint spark of hope he hadn't felt in days. "I'd like that."
"Good." Caed tossed the skewer stick into the flames, stood, and dusted off his coat. "Then it's settled."
"Well then… shall we start walkin'?" Caed asked, stretching his shoulders as he crouched down. He hoisted Hal up with one hand, setting the boy carefully on his neck. "Sit tight, kid. Don't go fallin' asleep and droolin' on my hat."
Hal chuckled weakly, clutching onto him as they left the camp behind. The forest was alive with sound—rustling leaves, the creak of branches, the distant caw of crows.
"Look, Mister Caed!" Hal pointed up, wide-eyed. A bird with bright crimson wings soared above the treetops, catching the sunlight like fire.
Caed tilted his hat back, giving it a glance. "Heh. Redwing hawk. Means we're headed east. Good eyes, kid."
But before Hal could smile, the underbrush shifted. A low growl rumbled out, and a wolf padded into their path—its fangs bared, fur bristling, eyes locked on them.
Hal froze, breath caught in his throat.
Caed didn't flinch. With a casual step forward, he raised his hand and—thwack!—smacked the beast square on the skull.
The wolf yelped, shook its head… then, astonishingly, lowered itself to the ground with a whine, tail wagging like a beaten pup.
"What…?" Hal gasped.
"Animals know strength," Caed said simply, rubbing the wolf's ear as if they were old friends. "Ain't no need for spells if you've got guts."
The wolf crouched lower, inviting. Caed whistled, jerking his head. "Go on, kid. Ride it."
Hal slid off Caed's shoulders, hesitating before climbing onto the wolf's back. His small hands gripped its fur, and to his surprise, the beast didn't resist—it obeyed, padding forward.
"Now," Caed muttered, following beside them with a faint grin. "Let's see if you can guide us outta this damn forest."
As they reached the edge of the forest, Caed tapped the wolf lightly on the head. With a soft whine, the animal turned and bounded back into the shadows of the woods, disappearing among the trees.
The forest gave way to rolling green meadows and distant mountains, their peaks brushing the clouds. A small, crystal-clear lake shimmered to their side, reflecting the sunlight like a mirror. Hal's eyes widened, drinking in the scenery—the kind of calm he hadn't seen since leaving his family estate.
Caed leaned against a rock, shading his eyes with one hand. "Not bad for a little pastime," he said with a small grin, taking in the peaceful view.
Hal hesitated, unsure how to react.
Caed waved him off. "Kid, why don't you wash up? Get that grime off. I'll… handle some business myself."
Hal raised an eyebrow. "Business?"
Caed smirked, giving a lazy shrug. "Yeah… the kind of business where a man finds some peace while nature calls." He tilted his hat down, muttering under his breath. "Gotta keep my boots clean, too."
Hal couldn't help but stifle a laugh, shaking his head. For the first time in days, the tension in his chest loosened just a bit.
The boy stepped toward the lake, letting the cool water run over his hands and face, the reflection showing a small, bruised, but determined version of himself. And somewhere in the background, Caed's chuckle lingered like a reminder: even in a harsh world, there were moments of life's strange, simple humor.
Caed walked a few paces farther from Hal, keeping the boy safely behind him. He tilted his hat back and drew a slow drag from his cigarette.
He exhaled, letting the smoke curl into the air, and spoke, voice low but sharp:
"So… you're another one, huh? The ones who want to kill him… the kid… I don't get it. What did he do to make you—or his own family—treat him this bad?"
Ahead of him stood a massive man in a pristine butler outfit, shoulders broad, posture rigid, eyes cold and calculating.
"A filthy commoner has no right to meddle in the affairs of noble houses," the butler said, voice sharp. "Do yourself a favor. Keep your mouth shut… and die quietly."
In an instant, his hand shot forward, a spear-like blade stabbing toward Caed.
Caed tilted his head lazily, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Funny… I was thinkin' I'd do the talking… while you meet the ground."
He stayed far from Hal, letting the threat hang in the air, cigarette smoke drifting around him like a protective veil, the tension thick as the butler's jaw tightened in fury.
Caed took a slow drag, inhaling deeply, then flicked his cigarette straight toward the butler.
The man's reflexes were sharp; he swatted it aside with his other hand before it could reach him.
Without hesitation, Caed lunged forward, knife flashing in the sunlight, aiming a precise slash across the butler's chest.
The butler twisted just in time, the blade grazing him but not cutting deep.
Caed smirked, flicking and twirling his knife back into his stance. "Next time… won't be so kind."
The old man's eyes narrowed, and he raised both hands, palms pointing toward the ground like spear tips. A faint blue aura began to shimmer around him, crackling with power.
"Silence proves ineffective," the butler hissed, his voice cold and controlled. "Then I must invest more force into my hands…"
The aura thickened, energy crackling like lightning along his arms. "And pierce you as if they were spears."
Caed's lips curled into a grin beneath his hat, knife spinning in his hand. He shifted into his stance, eyes locked on the butler. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the tension between steel, aura, and raw skill thick enough to taste.
In an instant, the butler thrust both arms forward like deadly spears, aimed straight at Caed.
But Caed was gone. One second he had been there, the next, he reappeared to the side, knife spinning lazily in his hand.
"Miss me once, shame on you… miss me twice, shame on the dirt," he drawled, his cowboy grin sharp and cold.
The butler grunted, his eyes narrowing, and swung again in Caed's direction. Caed ducked low, knife ready to slash, teeth gritting as he measured the distance.
The butler's left arm shot forward, digging into the ground with only his fingers. Dirt and stone exploded upward, forcing Caed to retreat, his knife slicing through air as he shifted his stance.
"I see now…" the butler muttered under his breath, aura crackling faintly over his arms. "Even in such a short time since his exile, the boy has met someone worthy of note. He is… a genuine threat."
He turned his piercing gaze to Caed. "And as for you… carrying a firearm, hmm? Maybe it's time to employ it."
Caed's smirk widened beneath his hat, eyes glinting with challenge. The forest held its breath. Ready to ignite at any moment.
Caed clicked his fingers, revolver resting at his side, and drawled with that trademark grin:
"Give me some space, old man. You think bullets grow on trees, or that I poop 'em out? Besides… this handsome lad ain't just good at aiming—he's deadly when swingin' too."
The butler's eyes narrowed, aura flaring faintly around his arms. "I see… then I guess you've just shortened your lifespan."
In a flash, he thrust his right hand forward three times, each strike aimed to pierce Caed in the chest. But Caed weaved and twisted with effortless grace, dodging every strike.
"By the way," the butler hissed, aura crackling around his left arm, "my left hand is my strong suit."
Nine lightning-fast strikes followed in an instant. Caed ducked, rolled, and spun, knife in hand, flicking his hat back into place with style as he evaded each blow.
"Hmph… will you persist in this farce?" the butler muttered, aura flaring brighter. "It accomplishes nothing but consumes my patience."
Caed flicked his knife lazily, spinning it between his fingers, voice calm and teasing. "Patience."
The blade caught light as he struck, leaving deep, fresh slashes along the butler's left arm. Blood spurted freely, painting the aura around him red.
The butler's eyes widened in shock. I… I was faster… he thought, disbelief flickering across his mind as he tightened his aura around his injured arm.
Caed's grin widened beneath his hat. "Funny… guess patience pays off."
"I… I didn't even see his attacks," the butler thought, disbelief and unease creeping into his mind.
Caed twirled his knife lazily between his fingers, walking toward the man with slow, deliberate steps, each one measured yet dangerous. His grin was sharp beneath the brim of his hat.
"Your… strong suit," Caed said, voice low and teasing, "makes you lose more easily, isn't that right?"
He flicked the blade lightly, letting it catch the sunlight as he circled, eyes locked on the butler. "Next time… it won't just be bruised. That left-hand spear of yours? I'll make it fly."
The forest seemed to hold its breath, tension coiling around them like a spring. The butler's jaw tightened, aura crackling over his left arm as he realized the true speed and precision of the man before him.
"Nonsense," the butler spat, thrusting his right hand toward Caed.
But it was already too late. Five precise slashes cut straight across his chest, and blood burst from the wounds.
"Gahh!" the butler clutched his chest, staggering backward. What speed… he thought, panic flashing in his eyes. This… this kind of knife skill… belongs to the West… wait… West? Knife speed… black hat…
He looked up at Caed, realization dawning. "Wait… don't tell me… You're the—The Shadow of the West!"
Caed didn't respond. With a single, fluid slash, he appeared behind the old man, and a continuous flurry of slashes rained down.
The butler screamed.
When the rapid strikes finally ceased, Caed's knife lowered. Blood dripped from the old man's body, staining the earth.
"The Shadow of the West… is that what they call me?" Caed said, voice low and calm. "Sorry, old man. I prefer to be called Il Lupo."
He straightened his black coat and walked back toward Hal, who was happily swimming in the lake, completely unaware of the brutal fight that had just erupted—and ended—in a mere seven minutes.
"Yoh, kid," Caed called, shading his eyes as he watched Hal. "Do you also know how to use water magic?"
Hal wiped his hands on his clothes and nodded. "Yes… but, like I said, I can only do the basics. Anything beyond that… higher ranks, advanced techniques… it'll make me faint or spew blood."
Caed squinted at him, intrigued. "I see… but let me take a look at it first. I don't know much about magic, but I learned the roots of them."
Hal's eyes widened. "Wait… on top of being a powerful mercenary, you're a mage too?"
"Nah, kid," Caed said with a grin, flicking his knife lazily. "Us handsome lads in the West don't waste time learning magic. But I understand every bit of it—the timing of their breathing, how they use their body—so I don't have a hard time fightin' 'em."
Hal tilted his head. "So… you studied all that… just to figure out their weaknesses and beat them more easily?"
Caed's grin widened, teeth flashing. "You got that right, kid. Us lads in the West nearly lost to them too. My pride… couldn't let that happen again."
Hal hesitated, then said quietly, "Then… why did you save me? You know my family… they're powerful mages too. Maybe even the ones who attacked the West…"
Caed raised an eyebrow and let out a low chuckle. "Are you serious?"
Caed shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. "If your family had been there too… judging by their personalities," he said, eyes glinting beneath his hat, "they'd have been the first ones to die before they even set foot in the West."
He laughed, a sharp, almost wild sound, the kind that made the forest itself feel alive with tension.
Hal blinked, a mix of shock and disbelief on his face, but Caed's grin only widened. "Heh… lucky for you, kid, they weren't."
Caed leaned back against a tree, arms crossed, cigarette dangling lazily from his lips. "Anyway, kid… show me what you got. Let's see this magic of yours."
Hal waded deeper into the lake, water lapping around his waist. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and began to chant softly.
A sphere of water slowly formed in front of him, hovering in the air. "This… is a water ball," Hal said, voice trembling slightly but steadying as he focused. The ball glimmered in the sunlight, rotating gently.
Caed whistled softly, eyes narrowing in approval. "Not bad for a kid who's been abandoned. Keep goin'."
Hal nodded and waved his hands toward the mountain in the distance. He chanted again, more confidently this time, and streams of water shot forward like bullets, smashing against the rocky walls with a loud splash!.
As the water splashed around him, Caed shook his head and smirked. "Well… that's more disappointing than I thought."
The force of his words—or maybe just Caed's grin—made Hal dive deeper into the water, flailing slightly.
Caed chuckled, tilting his hat. "You know I can see your butt, right, kiddo?"
Hal's face turned bright red as he immediately popped his head back out of the water, glaring.
"Don't worry, kid," Caed said, still grinning, "that's exactly why I said I'm gonna teach you a thing or two."
As they walked straight toward the city, Caed tipped his hat back, voice drawlin' slow and steady.
"Listen here, kid… not all spells need fancy chants or movin' your hands all dramatic-like. Sometimes magic takes on a life of its own—like makin' your hand deliver a slashin' spell, or channelin' it through a weapon."
He kicked a small rock down the path, smirkin'. "Maybe that's where you shine, kiddo. Don't just stick to one way… try 'em all, see what fits ya."
He stopped, eyes squintin' under his hat, leanin' in just a bit. "And if ya fail? Don't worry none. Try again. Learn from it. That's how ya get better."
Hal nodded, determination flickerin' in his eyes.
From the path ahead, shapes began to appear—dozens of figures, weapons glinting in the sunlight. Swords and axes were raised, their armor clanking as they moved in unison, eyes fixed on them.
Caed's eyes narrowed, and he let out a low chuckle, smoke curling from the corner of his mouth. He leaned toward Hal, drawlin' softly:
"But before we get anywhere… we got company. Hide behind that rock, kiddo. Looks like your family's at it again."
He flicked his knife lazily, still smirkin'. "Don't worry none—once we get inside the city, these kinda problems won't be botherin' ya no more. But… I gotta admit, these days really take me back to the West. Every day's a party there… only difference is, these guys? They're just too weak."
Hal ducked behind the rock, heart pounding, as Caed's eyes scanned the approaching crowd, cold and calculating, ready for whatever came next.