Chapter 31: At Cricket's Old House

The next morning, Kaiser woke to the golden rays of sunlight slipping through a crack in the wooden wall. As he sat up and stretched, a sudden commotion outside caught his attention. A desperate cry echoed through the air, like someone fighting for their life. Alarmed, he rushed outside, only to find Henry sparring with Mariposa. They were using wooden sticks, and while Mariposa showed some promise, she was nowhere near matching Henry's skill.

Henry smirked, twirling his stick effortlessly. "You wield it well, but that wouldn't even scare a cat."

Gritting her teeth, Mariposa lunged at him with all her might, only for Henry to dodge and counter her strike with ease. Watching the scene, Espada leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed. "Why not use a real weapon?" she suggested.

Elric scoffed. "Are you insane?"

Henry chuckled. "Maybe you should visit the weaponsmith. See if there's something more suited for you—perhaps a dagger or a fairy magic wand?" He flashed a teasing grin, making Mariposa glare at him in annoyance.

Kaiser stepped forward. "I'll come with you, Mariposa."

She nodded in agreement. Before they could leave, Cricket popped his head out of the doorway. "Breakfast is ready!"

Everyone gathered around an old round table, where they enjoyed a hearty meal. As they ate, the conversation shifted to the history of the house. Cricket revealed that it once belonged to his parents, who had long since passed away. " I grew up in this very house, I never knew I will be back here again with some companions too.". A solemn air settled over the group as he reminisced about them, his voice tinged with both sorrow and warmth.

After breakfast, Kaiser turned to Mariposa. "Shall we head to the weaponsmith?"

She nodded, and they set off toward the town. As they walked, Kaiser glanced at her curiously. "Mariposa… your name is unique. Is there a story behind it?"

She hesitated for a moment before answering. "My father named me. My mother loved flowers—she had a whole garden filled with them. But she… she died giving birth to me."

Kaiser's expression softened. "I'm sorry."

Mariposa managed a small smile. "It's okay. My father always told me I was her last gift to him. He never blamed me, though I know it must've hurt him."

Kaiser nodded, letting a comfortable silence settle between them as they continued their walk.

Upon arriving at the weaponsmith's shop, they found an array of weapons displayed along the walls. The weaponsmith, a burly man with a thick beard, greeted them with a grin. "Hello there, young ones! New faces, yes? My weapons can give you the edge in battle. What are you looking for today?"

Kaiser turned to Mariposa. "Anything catches your eyes?"

She browsed the weapons, deep in thought. "I don't know. Back in Vask's Resting, I used to watch my father and mother work with a farming tool… a long pole with a blade at the edge."

The weaponsmith's eyes lit up. "Ah! You mean a scythe. Wait here." He rummaged through the back of the shop before returning with an old yet magnificent-looking reaper's scythe. The pole was made of rare, sturdy wood, adorned with brass grips. The long curved blade gleamed, sharp and deadly.

Mariposa's eyes widened as she reached out, running her fingers along the weapon. A rush of thoughts flooded her mind—her parents working in a field filled with flowers, laughter ringing through the air.

Kaiser watched her. "Do you like it? Should we buy it?"

Mariposa smiled and nodded.

Negotiations began, and Kaiser sighed. "If only Espada were here. She'd probably get this for free."

Mariposa chuckled, and after some haggling, they secured the weapon at a fair price. As they walked back, she gripped the scythe tightly, a newfound determination in her eyes.

When they returned to Cricket's home, they noticed smoke rising from a bonfire. Bjorn stood over a roasting wild boar, his face gleaming with childish satisfaction. He said nothing but gave them a nod.

Elric, leaning against the wall, smirked. "What did Mariposa get? A short knife?"

Kaiser shook his head. "She bought a reaper's scythe."

Espada grinned, slapping Elric on the back. "Told you it'd be something terrifying. You owe me."

Elric groaned, handing over a few genny.

Henry gathered the group. Bjorn stepped away from the fire, leaving the boar to Cricket. "Let's talk about our strengths," Henry said. He went over each member's capabilities:

Elric had reached Level 3 Quas Blood—Partial Transformation—and had mastered his mace and flail. Espada perfected her Flow Thrust, striking faster and deadlier. Kaiser grew more proficient with Alzalel and had Phantom Step. Bjorn was as tenacious as ever, his brute strength unmatched. Mariposa, now armed with a reaper's scythe, had yet to discover her full potential.

Henry clenched his fist. "Next time, I'll hit even harder."

Cricket, with Nyx perched on his head, grinned. "Enough talk! This boar is ready to feast on." He revealed a perfectly roasted pig, its aroma making everyone's mouths water.

As they ate, Cricket played a song on his lute. " Raise your goblets, lift your blades,

Tonight, we feast in the fire's embrace.

Meat torn from bone, wine dark as night,

A banquet for warriors bathed in moonlight.

Let the tables creak, let the laughter roar,

Let our hunger be stilled as we ask for more.

A hunter's prize, a beast now slain,

Devoured with glory, not a scrap remains.

Forks clash like steel, knives carve with grace,

As shadows dance in this sacred place.

No king, no crown, just the brotherhood near,

Bound by the feast and the blood of the spear.

So drink, so feast, so tear and bite,

For war still waits at the edge of the night.

But for now, we revel, for now, we sing,

Before dawn calls us to war once again."

The melody was warm, the lyrics telling a tale of a happy family, of laughter and love. The Grimknights listened in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, the music wrapping around them like a comforting embrace.

Just as the meal came to an end, a sudden knock at the door shattered their peace.

Cricket stiffened. "Who's there?"

A young voice responded. "Cricket, it's me!"

Cricket's eyes widened. "Ronan?"

He rushed to the door, pulling in a wide-eyed boy. Ronan took in the sight of the Grimknights and whispered in awe, "Are these warriors here to defeat the Stallion?"

Cricket sighed, looking embarrassed. "Sorry."

Henry narrowed his eyes. "What are you not telling us?"

Cricket hesitated before explaining. "The people in the town inside the fort… they don't hate or fear us. They fear Stallion's wrath. Some have accepted their fate, but they're not happy. The bandits have ruled for almost 30 years. It started with their original leader, but then Stallion came, killed him, and took over. He made the bandits his followers."

Ronan spoke up. "Three masked men used to visit every once in a while, but I haven't seen them in a long time. They were terrifying… mean and ruthless."

A heavy silence filled the room. The Grimknights exchanged glances. The weight of what lay ahead settled over them, but none backed away.