Persistence Is The Key To A Broody Swordsman's Heart

-The Next Day-

"Looking broody as always Sir Swordman," Bagwis chirped as he made himself comfortable opposite Alab.

Alab could feel his left eye twitching in irritation. Once again, he sheathed his sword and walked away.

Persistent.

-The Next Day-

Alab was walking out of a bakery when he spotted the familiar young man waving at him like they were old friends.

"Hello, Sir Swordsman!" Bagwis greeted, animatedly.

...Persistent.

-The Next Day-

Alab was collecting mountain herbs for a client when he heard that annoyingly familiar voice.

"Sir Swordsman, what a coincidence!"

"..."

.....annoyingly persistent.

-The Next Day-

Alab has had enough. He didn't survive this long just to be toyed with by some young man! He would make sure to give this kid a piece of his mind! Or so he thought—until, oddly enough, when he was nowhere to be found he found himself wondering where that cheery man was till the sun went down.

-The Next Day-

Alab received a request to gather goblin nails from the village alchemist, so he ventured deep into the mountains. Goblins were pack monsters who usually crowded caves, so he carefully looked for possible cave formations when he heard the sound of galloping horses.

He didn't alarmed; after all if there are horses it meant they're either civilians or bandits—either way, he could just slice them down easily if things went awry.

"Well, well, well if this isn't the notorious Fallen Knight."

Crap.

Regret washed over Alab like a cold tide. I should've sliced them down the moment I heard the horses.

The riders were all too familiar—his former fellow knights.

"I guess you've fallen so low that you've become an adventurer, killing for a few silvers? Pathetic! Ha ha ha!" one of them cackled, the sound sharp enough that it bothered the birds up on the forest trees.

"Look at this, boys! The once-infamous Alab Kampilan is now picking goblin scraps for chump change!" another sneered.

"Who would've thought he'd fallen so low?"

Alab's hands tightened around his sword's hilt. He'd never been one to swallow his grievances. After all, if he had, he wouldn't have killed an entire squadron.

There were six knights. Alab's eyes sharpened, and without a second thought, he sprinted straight towards them whilst quickly unsheathing his sword as blue flames ignited from it.

"Flame Rend."

The knights were trained for combat and were at Adept Level so they quickly reacted to his direct attack.

"Fucking crazy! There are six of us, you moron! You don't stand a chance!" one shouted, wide-eyed.

"Hey, guys! Have you forgotten this guy's personality? He's a man addicted to slicing things down!" another reminded them, the color draining from their faces as realization struck when they recalled this man's title.

The Manic Swordsman!

"Oh shit!" one knight yelped as Alab sliced through the legs of his horse, sending the rider crashing to the ground.

One.

Two.

Three.

And that's half of them.

Alab silently counted his fallen foes, a sense ofgrim satisfaction settling over him.

"Y-you fool! You can't do this! We're appointed knights by the Aman Sinaya Clan!" one of the remaining knights stammered, panic creeping into his voice.

Alab swung his sword, blood splattering the ground. "Do I look like I give a shit?" he retorted, eyes cold and fierce as he faced the remaining knights, who looked at him as if he had gone mad. "Now come at me and finish what you started."

"You think you scare us? Think again! You're no longer a knight but a fallen one, a mere lowly adventurer!"

"Calling adventurers lowly is a bit much, don't you think?" came a youthful voice from above.

Startled, the knights turned and their attention drawn to a young man lounging on a thick tree branch, watching the chaos with a smile in his eyes.

Alab furrowed his brows at the sight of Bagwis. "Get lost."

"I am lost! An old alchemist asked me to gather goblin nails, and when I heard some commotion, I came to check it out," Bagwis lied whilst feigning innocence with wide eyes.

"Hey, kid! Do me a favor and report to the village authorities that a fallen knight is going crazy and killing people!" one knight barked, desperation creeping into his tone.

"Eh? But I don't want to," Bagwis quickly replied, his expression shifting to mock concern.

"What?" the knight retorted, flabbergasted.

"After all, those so-called knights just called me and my fellow adventurers lowly, ya know?"

"Y-you... I see! You're with him, aren't you?!"

"Eh? But I'm not, though?" Bagwis replied innocently, his tone a perfect mimicry of confusion.

"You think you can trust this man? Do you even know what he did? He killed his fellow knights! Not just one but an entire squadronwhich caused him to get banned and have his knighthood revoked! He's a fallen knight who slaughtered his comrades!"

"Then perhaps those comrades deserved it?" Bagwis countered, his voice steady. "I may not know Sir Swordsman well, but from what I can tell, he isn't someone who'd kill without any reason."

Alab was taken aback by Bagwis' words. After all, he had treated the kid quite poorly, yet here he was, defending him against a crowd that he had once stood together with.

He was once a part of a squadron that was under the lead of a nobles son. He was just a newly appointed commoner knight and so he soon quickly became the squadrons punching bag. 

His bed would be wet or would oddly smell like cow dung, his treasured sword would sometimes be bathed in rancid piss, all his knightly clothes mysteriously tattered and cut, his shoe would go missing at random times.

Yet he had stomached all of that. He was a hot tempered man at heart but still he kept himself in check since he truly wished to be a proper knight.

Yet holding it in seemed like the wrong cause of action because things started escalating from frustrating pranks to straight up violence and severe unwarranted beatings under the guise of 'training'.

One fateful day, he snapped and slaughtered the entire squadron. The rest was history.

"Sir Swordsman, do you need help?" Bagwis asked with genuine concern in his voice.

"No." Alab pursed his lips, then added, "But I appreciate the offer."

Bagwis fought the urge to snort at Alab's tsundere-like response and instead flashed a smile of understanding. "I see. Then I shall keep watch in case anything happens."

"Un."

A man of few words, I see, but I see right through you, you little softie!

Alab returned his focus to the remaining knights.

"Now, where were we?"

"You demon!" one knight screamed as panic started gripping him.

"Ahhh!" another shrieked, stumbling back making an attempt to flee.

Bagwis, watching the one-sided slaughter unfold, whistled a cheerful tune. Ah, my instincts were right. This man is perfect for my band of misfits! 

As the battle quickly concluded, Bagwis leaped down from the branch and landed beside Alab. "Sir Swordsman, you're super strong! You should come join me on my journey!"

"I told you I don't need comrades."

"But we won't be comrades...we'll be friends!" Bagwis insisted, his excitement infectious.

Alab stared at him for a long moment. Just when Bagwis thought he was about to be dismissed, a small smile tugged at the corner of Alab's mouth. "You really are persistent, you know that?"

"I've been told that my entire life," Bagwis shot back, reveling in his minor victory. "But hey, how about we do something exciting? You know, like...go stab something? I hear there are plenty of bandits lurking around. "

"I'm not interested in chasing bandits with you," Alab replied, but the smirk lingered. "Find someone else."

"Ah, but I'm not just anyone," Bagwis countered. "I'm a lone wolf with a tragic backstory! Besides, you owe it to yourself to have a friend who can liven up your broody little life."

"Look for someone else." Alab said as he left leaving Bagwis with a view of his back.

After that incident with every chance encounter, Bagwis 'coincidentally' ran into Alab again and again. One day in the marketplace, where Bagwis loudly proclaimed himself as his self appointed 'friend' ; another during hid training, where he followed him like a tail as he clumsily swung a sword around like an amateur, which he clearly was.

Over time, Alab found himself reluctantly caught by Bagwis' antics. He began to believe the young man was a righteous soul cloaked in humor, hiding the sadness of a tragic past. Maybe he's just a fool, Alab muttered to himself one evening. But fools can sometimes be more honest than knights.

Bagwis could see the cracks forming in Alab's icy exterior. With every playful jab, he was sneaking his way into the swordsman's heart, transforming Alab's cold armor into a soft, albeit reluctant, bond.

And so, the wheels of fate began to turn, each encounter another step in Bagwis' grand plan to gather his pack, one 'coincidental' meeting at a time.