Having packed everything worth taking from the abandoned building, Yujin slung his backpack over his shoulders and began to walk.
His meager belongings consisted only of his wooden sword, a few sets of ordinary clothes, and several recordings of sports knight competitions—tapes he had rewatched so many times he'd lost count.
Yujin scanned the area for the children they had been protecting, but Theresia stopped him with a shake of her head. She explained that Theresis was already out looking for them, as they had scattered during the chaos of the battle. They would see them soon enough.
Yujin's mind was made up: he was leaving. He could change nothing here. In this gutter, any attempt to improve their lives was seen as nothing more than the desperate thrashing of the low-born. He needed to change his standing. To make people listen to his voice, he couldn't remain a mere slum orphan; he had to become someone of undeniable status and influence.
"I'm here."
"…I thought you were dead, yet here you are, perfectly fine."
When he opened the door to the forge, he found Old Man Aorn at his anvil, hammer rhythmically striking hot iron. He froze mid-swing the moment he saw Yujin enter.
"What in the world happened? I heard there was a riot near your place—explosions, the whole lot."
Aorn swallowed hard. He had actually gone to the ruined building himself to see the aftermath. The scars left behind were hard to attribute to a fight between two humans. Melted steel rebars, scorched earth, massive craters, and countless sword gouges in the stone… It was the kind of destruction only a high-tier Caster from Leithanien could cause at full power. Seeing the sword marks, Aorn knew immediately that Yujin had been one of the combatants.
"I almost died. I was up against a monster of a man."
"Hmph. For you to say that, he must have been terrifyingly strong."
Objectively speaking, Yujin's skill was extraordinary. It was hard to find anyone his age who could even hold a candle to him.
"The reason I'm here is…"
Yujin started to speak but trailed off. The words "I'm leaving" felt heavy on his tongue.
"I don't need you to say it. Looking at your gear, it's clear you're heading out."
"Will you be alright?"
Yujin's meaning was clear. The forge had been under his protection; once he left, no one would be left to shield Aorn from the local thugs.
"Ha! No one dared touch me long before I met you. Anyone who tried to start trouble… I cracked their skulls open with this hammer."
So that's why the hammer looked a bit stained when we first met, Yujin thought, a small smirk crossing his face.
"You're as sturdy as ever, old man."
"Of course. It's too early for me to die. I still have work to do."
"Well, since you're so energetic, how about making me another sword? The one I had broke during the fight."
"…Good grief."
Aorn considered hitting Yujin with his hammer for casually mentioning he'd broken another blade, but he lowered his hand. He gestured for the boy to follow him.
"I can just take one from the display rack."
"Forget it! You break them so often I feel bad for the blades every time I hand one over. Just wait here!"
Aorn shouted and began to fiddle with a specific section of the floorboards. Yujin watched with curiosity until a handle popped up from a hidden compartment. It seemed Aorn had a secret stash.
"…Are you sure you should be showing me this?"
"If you were going to rob me, you would've killed me and taken it the day we met."
That was a fair point, so Yujin stayed quiet. Aorn pulled a long, sleek case from the hidden storage.
"Take it. It's yours now."
Inside the case was a black sword in a matching scabbard, seemingly custom-made for him. Yuj-in stared, mesmerized by the pitch-black blade that drank in the light like a work of art.
"A-Are you sure? You're giving this to me?"
"Yes. It was a blade without a master anyway. Better it be wielded by the right person than rot in a cellar."
Staring at the masterpiece, Yujin wondered how he could ever repay him. Aorn merely waved him off.
"It's fine. One day, you'll climb to the heights. When people ask who forged the blade at your hip, tell them it was me. That's payment enough."
"But…"
"Enough! Take it before I change my mind."
Yujin buckled the sword to his waist. It felt perfect, as if it had always belonged there.
"When that old friend of mine suggested we forge a blade together, I wondered what he was thinking…"
"Pardon?"
"It's nothing. Just a memory."
Aorn chuckled, thinking of his eccentric professor friend from the university who had once stormed into his forge demanding they make a sword. Who would have thought it would become the masterpiece of his life?
"Thank you."
Yujin bowed deeply. Aorn placed a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder.
"You're a good lad. Keep living your life that way."
"…I will."
Theresis spent the morning tracking down the scattered children. He had to be the one to break the news that they were moving on.
He couldn't leave this task to Theresia or Yujin. Theresia was too soft-hearted, and Yujin—while he acted tough—was the type to agonize over it in silence. Theresis took it upon himself to play the "villain."
"…Sigh."
But the children's reaction was not what he expected. He thought they might cling to him or beg him to stay, but they were remarkably practical.
"Make sure you buy us some real meat once you've made it big!" they shouted with grins.
Theresis was stunned by their response. He stood there for a moment, unable to find the words to reply.
"They grew up too fast," he muttered, brushing his hair back.
He didn't know what would happen to those left behind, but he barely had the strength to keep his own group together right now. If Yujin became the disciple of a Sarkaz King, what would happen to him and Theresia?
Will we just be sidekicks?
He gritted his teeth at the thought. He refused to be left behind. He had to be a comrade, an equal—not a burden, but someone Yujin could rely on. He considered the idea of begging the King to teach him, even if it meant risking his life, but he dismissed it. Sarkaz valued strength and lineage; begging was a sign of weakness. If he had neither power nor high blood, he at least had to keep his pride.
Lost in thought, Theresis walked with his head down until he slammed into what felt like a solid wall.
It wasn't a wall. it was a person.
Theresis scowled and looked up. The figure was so tall he completely blocked out the sky. Theresis wasn't short by any means, but this man was a giant.
"Ah, my apologies."
Realizing the man was an outsider, Theresis bowed slightly.
"…No, it is fine. However, I have a question. Have you seen this person?"
The abnormally tall man had a massive tactical shield and a long spear strapped to his back. He reached into a pocket and produced a photograph. The face was one Theresis knew well.
"Oh."
Kalaisha. The girl was smiling brightly in the picture.
Theresis hesitated for a second, wondering if he should reveal he knew her. In the end, he decided to test the waters.
"Why are you looking for her?"
"…She is a comrade, of sorts. Or perhaps a junior disciple under the same master. I have come to bring her back."
The man spoke slowly, with a strange cadence. Theresis weighed his options and decided to pass this problem on to Kalaisha herself. He had seen her lounging at their temporary lodging earlier.
"I saw her recently. Would you like the directions?"
Theresis helpfully noted the location on a scrap of paper and handed it over. The giant nodded in gratitude.
"…Thank you. I was lost and struggling to find my way. Your assistance is appreciated."
With that, the man walked away.
Looking at his massive frame, Theresis doubted anyone in these slums would be foolish enough to bother him. No one in the backalleys was brave—or stupid—enough to pick a fight with a man carrying a tactical shield and a halberd of that size.
He didn't know why he was looking for Kalaisha, but she was strong. She'd probably be fine.
Probably.