"Looks like you saw us," the thief said with a smug grin, but Bruno didn't even flinch.
"No reaction? Guess we'll have to do something to change that," another sneered, licking his lips as his gaze slid toward Tila. She shivered.
"Don't worry," Bruno said with a calm, almost warm smile, like he already knew how this would end. "Tila, run. Find the guards."
"And leave you here? Not a chance! I can fight too-"
"Please, Tila."
"Hear that, princess?" one of them jeered. "Do what your little knight says, unless you wanna watch us smash his face in."
"Damn it, Bruno... just-don't die, okay?"
"Okay. Don't worry. I'm not famous for breaking promises."
And with that, Tila ran.
"Only hearts get broken," Kearlin whispered.
"Shut up, idiot."
Tila's legs were trembling as she sprinted, thoughts crashing inside her head.
If I take too long... Bruno-no. He won't die. He's not like that. Come on, legs, just a little more.
By the time she reached the village, she spotted guards and practically dragged them back. Within moments, they were rushing to where Bruno should have been. But when they arrived... the sight froze everyone in place.
The thieves were on the ground. Every single one. Unconscious.
"Bruno?!" Tila called out. Nothing. "What happened here?"
---
Five minutes earlier...
"Now that it's just us, let's begin," one thief said.
Bruno barely moved, but his eyes... said everything.
"Don't worry. We'll finish this quick-then we'll go after your little girlfriend," the leader sneered, striking first.
But before the blow even landed, Bruno caught the thief's right arm with his left hand-and with his right, snapped it clean.
A scream tore through the air.
The second thief lunged, using the first as a shield, but Bruno twisted, slamming them together like puppets. With a swift kick, he crushed the jaw of the third before the man could blink.
"H-how the hell is he-" the second thief stammered, but before he could finish, a brutal kick shattered his leg.
"Don't interrupt a woman's conversation unless you're half the person she is," Bruno said coldly.
Then, with a final strike to the first thief's ribs-hard enough to make the man spit blood-Bruno whispered, "And you're not even a fifth of her."
He grabbed the first thief by the hair, hurled him into the fourth, and then stopped. For a moment, everything was still.
His eyes gleamed. That warm, calm smile? Gone. What replaced it was sharp. Predatory. A smile that didn't belong to a farmer... or even a mercenary.
---
Back to now.
Tila stood frozen, staring at him.
"You... beat them. Alone."
"They beat themselves," Bruno said softly. "I just... gave them a little push."
Kearlin reappeared, floating upside down with a grin.
"A push? That was like ballet with bones. All you needed was a soundtrack and a shiny costume."
Bruno rolled his eyes.
Tila exhaled slowly, glancing around. The breeze. The quiet field. The man who had just dismantled six armed thieves without breaking a sweat... sitting there like nothing happened.
"This was... the worst tea I've ever had," she muttered.
Bruno smiled faintly.
"Also the most memorable."
---
The sun was sinking, painting the sky in amber and lavender when Bruno finally returned home. Every step was steady, as if his body wanted to slow the world down-even while his mind raced.
He opened the door gently. No invaders. No thieves. Just the faint scent of old tea and the soft whisper of wind through the window.
Bruno hung his cloak on the hook and let out a long breath-the kind that comes when the body relaxes, but the soul... stays tense.
"That was... different," he murmured, running a hand through his damp hair.
"Different?" Kearlin's voice drifted in behind him, playful as ever. "You, falling for someone in the middle of a street fight? If this had more poetry, I'd write a song about it."
Bruno walked to the kitchen, filled a cup, and drank slowly.
"Kearlin..."
"I know, I know. Shut up, stop overthinking, don't make this a tragedy..." Kearlin twirled in the air. "But come on-'Don't worry, I don't break promises'? My very straight heart skipped two beats. You were cinematic."
Bruno set the cup down.
"Do you want me to draw a salt circle now or after your next stupid comment?"
"If there's incense and mood lighting, go ahead. But invite Tila-she deserves front row seats to 'The Exorcism of Kearlin.'"
Bruno laughed under his breath. Barely.
Silence settled. He sat on the edge of the bed, unlaced his boots, and stared at the floor.
"She was scared," he murmured.
"And still stayed by your side. That's courage. Or stupidity. But in her case? Probably courage."
Bruno didn't reply.
The wind stirred the curtains. Kearlin hovered by the window, looking out at the fading light.
"Funny thing," he said. "You quit playing
A nosy god trying to solve everything. But I think you're starting to feel it up close too.
Bruno lay back, eyes on the ceiling.
"I told her I don't break promises."
"And you don't. But promises, my friend... are only half the story."
Bruno closed his eyes.
And for a while, there was only silence.
---
Tila slammed her door shut with her shoulder, still breathless. Her father wasn't home-probably with the other guards trying to make sense of what just happened.
Good.
She let the flower basket drop to the floor-petals crushed like her thoughts. Grabbed a glass of water. Drank it in one go. Then pressed her forehead against the cool wall, trying to stop the storm in her chest.
"Idiot," she whispered. "I should've stayed. I should've helped. Why am I so weak?"
But his voice kept coming back. Calm. Steady. Like he knew the ending of a story everyone else was still struggling to read.
"He didn't even flinch. Not when they looked at me like that. Not once."
Tila clenched her fists. She hated feeling powerless. But deep down, she knew... if she had stayed, she would've just gotten in the way.
Bruno had moved like someone who'd done this a hundred times before breakfast.
"But he's not an adventurer," she muttered. "He said he's not."
She threw herself on the bed, face down in the pillow. Didn't cry. Just burned-shame, anger, and something else. Something warmer.
Every time she replayed the moment he looked at her, right before saying:
"Don't worry. I'm not famous for breaking promises."
She mimicked his voice, deeper, gruffer.
Rolled over and stared at the ceiling.
"Idiot..." she whispered. A smile tugged at her lips despite everything.
---
Meanwhile, Gorham walked through the village in silence, boots sinking into soft earth. The sunset bled crimson-a warning in the sky.
He passed the guards hauling unconscious thieves, their stories all the same:
"The outsider. Bruno. Took down all six. Alone."
Gorham said nothing.
He didn't need to.
The bodies told the story-clean strikes, precise breaks. No wild brutality. Just... control.
"No weapons. No deep wounds. Just bones in the wrong places and egos shattered."
Gorham frowned.
"That man isn't a farmer. Or an ordinary wanderer. And definitely not someone who shows up in my village without reason."
His jaw tightened.
"But... he protected her. Could've run. Could've hid. Instead, he sent her to safety and faced six men alone. Barely a scratch."
That should've comforted him. It didn't.
"What kind of man does that? Like it's his hundredth time?"
When he reached his home, the air inside still carried the faint smell of tea... and crushed flowers.
He rested his hand on the doorframe.
"If you hurt her... whoever you are, Bruno... I'll find out what you're made of."
But deep down, a part of him already knew.
---
Far away, under a sky littered with stars, a crow landed on a woman's arm. She wore a hood, face half-hidden, posture sharp as a blade.
The bird squawked, soaking wet, furious.
"Ow! What the-?!" she hissed as it pecked her. "What happened to you?!"
The crow turned its back on her dramatically, dripping water.
Her eyes widened.
"...You were in the bathroom?"
A sharp caw.
"While he was in the bath?"
Another caw. Deadly serious.
"...And you stayed there?! Oh no... oh no, no, no..."
The crow jabbed her again, outraged.
"Don't give me that look! I told you to watch him, not-NOT that! You picked the worst timing!"
The bird tilted its head, glaring like a judge.
"Fine! It was wrong. So wrong. But you flew through the window cracks! How is that my fault?!"
The crow let out a long, disappointed croak.
She sighed, stroking its feathers gently.
"It's just... I've heard so much about him."
Her voice softened.
"I've only seen him a few times. Barely heard him speak. But still..."
The crow waited.
"...I think I'm falling for him."
The bird let out the most sarcastic caw in existence.
"Not like that! Not stupid poetry love! It's just... something about him. Like my soul itches when he's near."
She looked at the stars, wind tugging at her hood.
"But he feels so far away. Like he's from another world. Or running from something."
Her gaze dropped to the crow again.
"If he finds out you spied on him in the shower, I'm blaming you. Entirely."
The crow pecked her hard.
She laughed, quiet and sharp.
"Fine. We're even. Now... take me to him. And this time-no bathrooms."
The crow launched into the night, wings slicing through the wind. She pulled her hood tighter and followed.
She didn't know what she'd find.
But a part of her already knew... nothing would be the same after this.
A Day Like Any Other
It was an ordinary day, like always.
The sun rose at the same angle as ever. The roosters crowed at the time they had long declared as absolute truth. The animals in the village woke in a rhythm that felt rehearsed. And Bruno... well, Bruno woke the same way he always did.
And all he wanted... was for it to stay that way forever.
He had already gone through his morning routine - something between martial arts and functional stretching. His movements were disciplined, but his eyes... distracted. Lost in thought.
While finishing a simple lunch - a bowl of rice with vegetables and a piece of dried fish - something inevitable approached.
"Are you... thinking about her?" Kearlin drifted in from the side, floating smugly with crossed arms, as if catching Bruno in the act.
"Why is the first thing I hear always you?" Bruno shot back, sounding tired before even finishing his second sip of tea.
"Then just fill this house with little Brunos," Kearlin shrugged triumphantly.
---
On the other side of the village...
"Heading out early?" Minerva raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with implication.
Tila froze mid-step, her face flushing far too red to hide.
"Mom, don't say that... Dad might hear!" she whispered, as if Bruno's name were some forbidden spell.
"Of course, dear..." Minerva answered with that motherly smirk and a wooden spoon in hand. "But tell me... has he invited you for tea again? Or is he still just staring at you like you're a shooting star?"
Tila opened her mouth to reply, but the words tangled and tripped.
"M-mom! Actually... he invited me to his house."
Minerva laughed. That laugh only mothers have when they know they've won.
"Take care."
Tila left the house faster than usual, the tip of her blonde braid swinging behind her.
And that silly smile creeping onto her face? That one, she couldn't hide.
---
Bruno was wiping down his home, though it was barely dirty to begin with.
Could Kearlin be right? ...No, of course not.
And after a while, the only sound was hurried footsteps - more eager than necessary - before Bruno opened the door with that same warm smile as always.
"You're early."
"I've always wondered what someone like you keeps inside their house."
"Someone like me?"
"Forget I said that."
Her curious eyes scanned every corner. Not just outside - the inside was different too. Books on a shelf. A staircase leading to an upper floor - something even the village chief didn't have.
"What a strange house," Tila finally said, frowning but with bright eyes. "I mean... in a good way! I'd say it's like... too neat for someone living alone. Or mysterious. Or cozy...? Ugh, forget it, I'm rambling."
Bruno leaned against the wall, watching her like an audience member at a play.
"Go on. I'm curious which one you'll settle on."
"All of them." Tila blurted out too quickly. "You look like the type who reads rare books, drinks exotic tea, and can fight six bandits blindfolded. And yet... you have fluffy pillows. That doesn't match!"
"I like her," Kearlin whispered into Bruno's ear in a teasing tone. "Should I start making the white dress already?"
Bruno closed his eyes and sighed, speaking only in thought:
"Keep talking and I'll exorcise you."
Kearlin gasped dramatically.
"You're way too cruel for a man who owns pillows with floral embroidery."
Meanwhile, Tila climbed two steps up the stairs, peeking carefully.
"Can I see up there?"
Bruno raised an eyebrow.
"You're really going to invade the second floor on your first visit?"
"I'm a brave girl, you know." She grinned, and somehow it lit up the whole house. "But only if you promise not to kick me out if I find some mystical secret. Like... a treasure map. Or an altar with skulls. Or... a collection of funny mugs."
Bruno stepped forward and held out his hand, as if sealing a silent pact.
"I only throw you out if you touch my mugs."
Tila shook his hand like it was a sacred deal.
"Deal."
They climbed up to the second floor, where sunlight streamed through a small circular window, casting warm light across polished wooden floors.
Bruno opened the door to his room with a casual gesture.
"Go ahead."
Tila paused at the threshold, suddenly shy.
"Are you sure I can come in?"
"Why not?" he said, walking in like it was nothing.
The room was simple, yet revealing: a bed far too big for one person, a tidy desk covered in notebooks and folded maps, a shelf with curious trinkets - and a dark, sturdy wooden wardrobe.
Tila walked over, eyes wide with intrigue.
"What do you keep in the wardrobe?"
Bruno answered as casually as commenting on the weather:
"Corpses... but right now it's just clothes. For now."
Tila slowly turned her head, suspicious - until she caught the smirk tugging at his lips. She gave his shoulder a light punch.
"Don't joke like that! What if I believed you?"
As she pulled the door open to peek inside, Bruno reached in, searching for something. He rummaged a bit, then pulled out an object wrapped in cloth.
When he revealed it, Tila's eyes widened.
"Is... is that a dress?"
Bruno held a simple, but beautiful orange dress - with embroidered sleeves and a small bow at the back. It was clear it had been made with care, though a little rustic.
"A gift for you," he said, like it was nothing. "Remember what I said about your clothes the other day? It's not professional work, but... I thought I'd give it a try. Still needs finishing."
Tila blinked several times, blushing to the tips of her ears.
"F-for me...? But... I never did anything for you."
Bruno shrugged, that calm smile never leaving.
"You've been a great friend, actually."
Silence.
Until Kearlin, floating in the corner with arms crossed, sighed dramatically:
"You just got friend-zoned. Eternal mourning for the warrior of love."
Bruno ignored him perfectly.
"B-but... you said it's not finished?"
"Yeah. Still need to embroider the back. I wanted to add something that represents you, but... I couldn't decide yet."
"Can I choose?"
"You can," he nodded. "As long as it's not a smiling cow."
"Aww... guess I'll have to change my plans then," she laughed, lowering her gaze.
For a moment, silence fell between them... but it wasn't uncomfortable.
It was... warm.
Familiar.
"Thank you, Bruno. Really. This is... so much more than I expected."
"I just did what I thought I should," he said, with a small, sincere smile.
And there she was again. Tila.
Smiling like life had just gotten a little easier.
---
The tour ended, and Bruno prepared tea with bread - nothing fancy, but done with such skill it seemed effortless.
"How can you make tea better than my grandma?"
"My hobby's cooking. I've got plenty of free time," Bruno said with calm maturity while biting into a piece of cake.
"Ugh, even the cake is good. If you keep this up, I'll wake up early every day just to come here."
"You'll have to wake up around four in the morning."
Tila nearly choked on her cake, and Bruno chuckled softly.
---
By the time the sun was setting, they were leaving the house and walking toward the village - until they turned a corner and saw him.
"D-Dad!?" Tila jumped back at the sight of the village chief.
Nearly two meters tall, a massive axe strapped to his back, sharp horns glinting in the fading light.
"Can I talk to you, Bruno?" he said, voice heavy - not with anger, but questions. "Alone."
"Sir..." Bruno murmured.
"Wha-" Tila began, but Bruno cut her off:
"It's okay," he said, touching her shoulder.
Tila hesitated for a second, then headed back toward the village. Her steps weren't fast... but not slow either. She trusted him - even if she was still worried.
Meanwhile, the two men walked the opposite way.
"Seems we can talk now," Bruno broke the silence.
"You show up out of nowhere with a house, the first person you talk to is my daughter, and you take down a few bandits like it's nothing. Tell me... am I wrong to be worried about her?"
"Of course not. You have every right, sir."
"Then tell me what you want."
"To live."
"Just to live? Even your answers are worrying."
"Just to live?" Gorham repeated quietly, as if testing the words. "That in itself is concerning."
Bruno kept his gaze steady. Not challenging, just... firm.
"Then tell me, Gorham... if you were in my place, what would you say?"
The giant stopped in his tracks. Looked at the sky, then the trees, as if the world around them had grown too loud. He took a deep breath before answering:
"I'd say... I wanted to protect something. Or someone. Nobody lives just to live."
Bruno smiled - but without joy. A smile tinged with sadness.
"Maybe I've lived too long. And now... I just want to rest."
Silence wrapped around them like a blanket for a few seconds. Gorham looked at him more closely now - not as a father, but as something older. As if seeing through Bruno... the same way Bruno saw through him.
Bruno furrowed his brow slightly, studying him.
The way Gorham walked... steps too steady, too calculated.
The way he held his breath longer than necessary - like someone who didn't really need air.
The axe on his back... not just an axe. Too old. Marks too ancient. Faded runes, in a language even Bruno had never seen - a language that didn't belong to this world.
And his eyes. Eyes that had seen things beyond the stars. Eyes of someone who had died... or never needed to die.
Bruno raised an eyebrow, unflinching.
"And you, sir? Are you worried about your daughter as a father... or as someone who's lost too much already?"
Gorham froze for a moment. For the first time, he didn't answer immediately.
He stared back. A warrior facing another. One secret staring at another.
"I'm just worried about her well-being," he finally said, with an honesty that was real... but incomplete.
Bruno nodded slowly, accepting the half-truth... because he carried one too.
"In that case, we have something in common."
Gorham looked away, toward the village path.
"She's happy. I can see that," he murmured. "But if I feel she's going to get hurt..."
Bruno finished for him:
"...you'll be there. I know."
Another silence.
Then Gorham turned to leave.
"I'm still keeping an eye on you, Bruno."
"That's fine. I'm keeping an eye on you too."
"Hah... fair enough," Gorham grunted.
And for a moment, Bruno was sure. That presence... that aura... he wasn't from here.
But he also knew Gorham thought the same about him.
Two outsiders pretending to belong.
Two guardians... watching over the same heart.
Gorham had nearly disappeared down the path when he stopped abruptly. The axe on his back creaked against the leather straps. He cleared his throat. And then, without looking back, he asked:
"One more question..."
Bruno crossed his arms, already expecting another veiled threat or deep question.
"...You never went into hers, right?"
The silence was... catastrophic.
Bruno froze. Kearlin choked on air. Even the birds seemed to stop singing for a second.
"Went into...?" Bruno raised an eyebrow, frowning. "Gorham..."
"Her room!" Gorham corrected quickly, finally glancing over his shoulder with zero shame. "The room! What else did you think I meant!?"
"You know exactly what it sounded like," Bruno muttered, already regretting leaving his house.
Kearlin, floating beside him, fanned himself dramatically with a leaf.
"I'm going to faint. No, seriously. Someone call a cleric because the tension here just killed me."
Bruno pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I swear, if you don't shut up I'll-"
Gorham shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Just had to make sure. You know... fatherly instinct."
Bruno looked up at the sky, searching for strength.