The Misfit Unit

The gates of the Young Knights Guild stood tall, etched with runes and cresting with silver. Banners rippled in the breeze, each bearing the golden sigil of the Crown's Order. Training chants echoed from within—swords clashing, spells firing, and orders being barked.

Reika stared up at it all, arms folded, a sharp frown cut across his face.

Kaien stood behind him, hands tucked in his coat pockets. "You'll thank me later," he said with a smirk.

Reika rolled his eyes. "If this turns into sweeping stables and polishing armor, I'm burning this place to the ground."

Kaien chuckled, but there was weight behind his eyes. "Zariel and I are leaving. The Puppeteer incident... shouldn't have happened. No demon crosses the divine wall without burning."

Reika's hand briefly touched the scar beneath his left eye. It still stung in the cold.

Kaien's voice softened. "You're strong, Reika. But this world's bigger than you know. Until we figure out how that demon got in, we need you under protection."

"More like under house arrest," Reika muttered.

Kaien turned, starting down the road. "Just don't blow anything up."

---

The main hall was alive—students in gleaming armor raced past, sparring in open arenas, while mages cast minor spells for training. The air was thick with Ren. Chalk dust and metal clanged with each passing second.

A tall woman with a clipboard eyed Reika over thick spectacles.

"Name?" she asked.

"Reika."

She scanned her scroll. "You've been placed in Team Seven. North corridor, by the map wall."

Reika noticed a giant broom leaning against that direction.

"...That broom is not a good sign," he grumbled.

---

Reika approached the group. A few teens stood loosely around a small table. The moment he stepped near, one of them looked up—a boy, older, lean, with eyes like razors.

Kairo.

He stood like he owned the floor. Cloaked in gray-blue, with a pendant around his neck, his gaze lingered on Reika just a second too long.

Reika stiffened. That stare—it wasn't normal. It was almost surgical.

"You've got a staring problem," Reika said flatly.

Kairo didn't answer. He just kept his eyes locked on him.

Then came the girl—light brown curls tucked behind her ears, bright steel armor hugged her arms and chest, clean and polished.

"Ignore him," she said kindly. "I'm Mira. You must be Reika. Kairo's like this with everyone. Don't take it personal."

Reika gave a small nod. "Noted. He stares like I stole his lunch."

She chuckled, brushing a strand of hair back. "Well, welcome to the team."

Then came the sound of boots—heavy, thudding, deliberate.

A massive figure loomed over Reika. At first glance, he thought it was a grown man—towering, broad-shouldered, short-cut hair, dressed in a loose top and cargo shorts.

Reika instinctively stepped back. "Uh... hi?"

The giant leaned forward, grinning. "I'm Farl!" came a surprisingly high-pitched, cheery voice.

Reika blinked. "...Wait."

It took a second glance to realize—Farl was a girl. Her bulk masked it, but up close, the signs were clear. She laughed when she saw his confusion.

"You're not the first to think that," she said, arms crossed proudly. "Don't worry, I don't bite. Usually."

Reika nodded slowly. "You're all... colorful."

Before another word could be shared, a man stepped into the circle. Mid-thirties. Slicked-back blond hair, half-cape over his shoulder, and a long scar running down his cheek.

"Alright, rookies!" he barked. "Name's Captain Gant. You're Team Seven now, under me. Our job? Cleanup. After the big boys fight demons, we go in and tidy up the mess. Corpses, corrupted mana, sometimes wild beasts that linger after the fight."

Reika's eye twitched.

"Cleanup?" he whispered. "No wonder Zariel didn't complain when I got shoved here..."

He raised his hand. "Uh... what do the other teams do?"

"Some handle field combat. Others track demon movement or run suppression squads," Gant said. "But don't look down on this. Cleanup teams see real battlefields, real aftermath. You'll either toughen up or wash out."

Reika scowled. "Kaien did this on purpose."

---

Their mission came quickly. Within hours, Team Seven was riding a rickety transport past the edge of the great wall. The sky turned a dull gray, with ash in the wind.

They reached the site of a recent demon attack—charred soil, broken trees, and melted stones scattered across a wide field. Magic residue pulsed faintly beneath the ground.

"This is our site," Gant said. "Get to work."

Reika knelt, poking at a half-burned root. He turned to Kairo. "Is it just the four of us?"

"The rest of the team got promoted last week," Kairo said, not looking up. "We're what's left."

Reika sighed. "Great. Fresh meat team."

Then—woosh.

A wave of heat rose around him.

He blinked. Fire. His boots were on fire. The whole field was catching. His Ren had flared up without warning.

Mira gasped. "The ground—!"

"Relax," Kairo said coolly.

He stepped forward, knelt, and traced three quick symbols into the dirt. His hand glowed blue. With a pulse of his palm against the earth, the flames vanished instantly.

Reika rubbed the back of his head, trying to play it off. "Whoops. My bad."

"You can't control it?" Kairo asked, finally looking him in the eye again.

"I'm working on it," Reika muttered.

Farl crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Mira simply sighed in relief.

They went back to cleaning—but the wind shifted.

Howling. Low. Deep. Not dogs. Not wolves.

Kairo froze. "...Demon wolves."

Mira went pale. "How?"

Kairo narrowed his eyes at Reika. "They come when demon fire is triggered, a pack once took down am entire squad"

Reika gulped and whispered. "...Oops."

Dark shapes began to stalk between the dead trees. Glowing red eyes. Snarling teeth.

Kairo conjured a sleek silver blade from his Ren and stood tall. "Form up. This isn't a drill."

Reika drew his blade, heart racing, excitement and fear mixing like fire and oil.

Farl cracked her knuckles, unfazed. Mira clutched a glowing orb in one hand, breathing slowly.

The howling grew louder.

Reika grinned. "Now this... is what I signed up for."