11

The sun barely peeked over the horizon, casting a pale glow on the manor grounds where rows of horses stood in disciplined silence. Their riders, clad in black leather armor, appeared as dark silhouettes, the quiet clinks of their gear the only sounds breaking the early morning stillness. The cool morning air carried a hint of tension, every breath drawn sharp and purposeful.

In front of the manor, the family gathered, the heavy air thick with unsaid words. The young boy stood with his back straight, shoulders stiff as if the weight of the moment pressed down on him. His eyes, determined yet somber, were fixed on the two figures before him—Cynthia and Allie. Cynthia's expression was a blend of concern and pride, her lips pressed into a thin line as she struggled to maintain her composure. Her hands, usually so steady, trembled slightly as they hovered near the boy, unsure whether to hold him close or let him go. Allie, on the other hand, scowled deeply, her anger barely contained as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her foot tapping restlessly on the ground, the frustration of being left behind clear in her every movement.

"You don't have to do this," Cynthia's voice was soft, yet laced with an edge of desperation, as if hoping against hope that he would change his mind. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, betraying the calm facade she tried to maintain.

The boy shook his head, offering her an innocent smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Don't worry, Granny Aria will look after me." He reassured her, glancing over at the old woman who was drawing out smoke from her cigar, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "I'll be fine, mom."

Cynthia's breath hitched at the word "mom," her knees buckling slightly as she wrapped her arms around the boy's petite frame. She buried her face in his hair, her grip tightening as if she could somehow shield him from the dangers ahead. "Make sure to come home safe, okay? I'll get really mad if you come back with a scratch or bruise on you," she whispered, her voice breaking as she caressed his hair, refusing to let go. The boy could only hug back, his small hands patting her back in an attempt to ease her worry.

Allie scoffed, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Alcor, who leaned against the gates, his expression stoic and unreadable. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her frustration bubbling over. "I can still come, Uncle Alcor. I can help look after my lil bro, you know," she reasoned, her voice tinged with a mixture of hope and irritation.

"We can't leave the manor undefended," Alcor replied, his gaze flicking away as if lost in thought, his jaw tightening. "I can only trust both you and Cynthia for it." His voice was firm, but there was an underlying note of reluctance, as though he, too, was grappling with the weight of the decision.

"I get that, I really do, but..." Allie growled, her fists clenching at her sides as she struggled to cope with the sense of helplessness. She could feel the sting of tears in the back of her throat but swallowed them down, refusing to let them show. "Just... make sure he comes home safe, okay, old man!?" She yelled, pointing a finger at Jin, who was saddling up the horse he and the kid were going to ride.

Jin nodded silently, his movements stiff as he glanced at the boy in Cynthia's embrace before turning his attention back to his horse. The boy noticed this and bit his lip, his chest tightening with an uneasy feeling. Alcor eventually pulled Cynthia apart from the boy, his hands gentle but firm as he led the child toward Jin's horse. The middle-aged man pulled him closer, tucking him inside his cloak to shield him from the morning chill. The boy cast one last glance toward the manor, where Cynthia and Allie still stood, their figures slowly receding as the procession began its march.

---

The mission had been clear from the start—wipe out Baron Balthort's family, branded as traitors by the four pillar families. The mere idea of sentencing people to death, especially when he barely knew the reasons, weighed heavily on the boy's mind. He remained silent, hoping, or rather convincing himself, that everyone else shared his unease. A week passed in a blur of pounding hooves and endless miles, the monotony of the journey broken only by brief, hushed conversations and the occasional sparring match to keep their skills sharp.

And then, the manor appeared on the horizon, an imposing structure shrouded in mist, the air around it thick with tension. Several soldiers armed to the teeth patrolled around the cobblestone walls, scouts with bows perched atop them like vigilant hawks. Alcor, seated atop his horse, observed the would-be battlefield with a spyglass, his expression grim as he heaved a sigh.

He glanced back at the Mon'draigg knights, raising his hand high in the air as a signal to prepare. At once, those armed with bows knocked arrows against their strings, drawing them back with practiced ease. A soft, high-pitched whistle cut through the air, catching the attention of the enemies who had little time to react. They looked upward, eyes wide with confusion, just as a rain of arrows descended upon them, the deadly projectiles finding their marks with chilling precision.

With little to no gap, the black-clad knights drew their swords and surged forward, catching the enemy off guard once again as they struggled to recover from the sudden onslaught. The young boy watched with bated breath, a mix of amazement and dread swirling within him as he witnessed the dozen or so dark knights effectively fight back against mercenaries more than double their numbers.

"Get used to this sight," Aria whispered to the boy, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation. He looked at her, noticing that neither she nor his uncles were fazed by how their men were making a miracle of winning such a disadvantageous battle.

"With your potential, you'll be commanding larger armies and facing greater foes," Jin huffed, wrapping cloth around his fist as he secured his gladius to his belt. Alcor didn't meet the boy's eyes, his gaze still distant, as if troubled by something only he could see.

"Now, let us make haste," Aria commanded, clapping her hands quietly, the sound serving as the signal. Like a gentle night breeze, they moved through the battlefield unnoticed, the chaos around them barely registering as they slipped past. The boy marveled at how easy it seemed, his heart pounding with the realization that they were aiming for the king in a game of chess.

"This seems too easy," Alcor voiced his concern as they stood at the front door of the manor, his hand resting uneasily on the hilt of his sword.

"It just goes to show how skilled we are," Jin sighed as he pushed open the doors and stepped inside. Aria grimaced, cursing under her breath as she noticed the magic circle too late. It activated with a sudden brilliance, illuminating the room with a blinding white light that engulfed them.

The boy shielded his eyes, disoriented as the world around him shifted. When he slowly opened them again, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, its walls adorned with paintings and weapons that gleamed in the soft light.

"Teleportation?" He muttered in confusion, his mind racing to piece together what had happened.

"You really are talented," a familiar voice echoed, making the boy spin around. His breath caught in his throat as he saw Jin casually walking toward him, a sinister frown darkening his features.

"Uncle?" The boy's voice trembled, uncertainty and fear creeping into his chest as he took a step back.

Jin stopped, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face before he shook it off with a scoff. He continued his slow, deliberate stride, his hand resting ominously on the hilt of his blade. "Give me the necklace, kid. Don't make me hurt you," he demanded, his voice cold and unyielding.

The boy's heart raced as he evaded Jin's outstretched hand, darting around him in a desperate bid for escape. He reached the door, only to find it locked from the outside. Panic surged through him as he realized he was trapped. Jin sighed heavily, drawing his sword with a smooth, practiced motion, his eyes burning with a mix of annoyance and something far more dangerous.

"Look, I like you, kid. You're talented, so even though my bosses won't like it, I want to adopt you. Join me, and you can become great—great enough that anyone who abandoned you would regret it." Jin's voice softened slightly, almost pleading, as he took another step forward, his movements growing faster and more impatient.

The boy didn't respond, his heart pounding in his chest as he glared at Jin, even the fox on his head bristling with hostility. Jin's expression hardened, his grip tightening on his sword. "...Fine," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper as he looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly as if to hold back tears. Without warning, he lunged forward, his blade swinging toward the boy's neck with deadly speed.

"JIN!!!!!" A voice roared, steel clashing against steel as Alcor appeared behind the boy, his sword raised to intercept Jin's attack. The impact sent a shockwave through the room, the two men locked in a deadly struggle, with the boy frozen between them, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized just how close he had come to death.