The morning sun rose slowly over the mountains.
Golden light spilled across the valley.
Birds sang from the treetops.
The river flowed peacefully beside the village.
Everything seemed normal.
Yet Leo could not stop thinking about the words Fang had spoken the night before.
"There are things more important than strength."
At first, the words sounded simple.
But the more he thought about them, the less he understood.
How could anything be more important than strength?
The strong protected.
The weak suffered.
Wasn't that how the world worked?
Leo sat on a large rock near the river, skipping stones across the water.
One.
Two.
Three bounces.
The stone disappeared beneath the surface.
He sighed.
A moment later, another stone skipped past his.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Leo turned around.
Fang stood behind him with a grin.
"Still losing."
Leo frowned.
"You cheated."
"I threw a rock."
"You always throw better rocks."
Fang laughed.
"That's because I spent years mastering the ancient art of finding good rocks."
Leo rolled his eyes.
The older man sat beside him.
For a while they simply watched the river.
Neither felt the need to fill the silence.
The mountains did enough talking.
Eventually Fang spoke.
"Do you know why rivers are strong?"
Leo looked confused.
"They aren't strong."
"They cut through mountains."
Leo blinked.
Fang pointed toward the valley.
"Look around."
The boy followed his gaze.
The river twisted through stone cliffs that towered over the land.
Gigantic walls of rock.
Ancient.
Unmoving.
Yet the river had carved a path through them.
Little by little.
Year after year.
Fang smiled.
"The river doesn't win because it's stronger."
"It wins because it never stops moving."
Leo stared at the water.
The lesson settled quietly in his heart.
Fang always taught like this.
Never through lectures.
Never through shouting.
Only stories.
Only examples.
Only patience.
And somehow...
Those lessons stayed with him longer than any command ever could.
As the days passed, the village slowly accepted Leo.
Not completely.
There were still whispers.
Still suspicious looks.
Still fearful glances whenever someone mentioned the Blood Moon.
But things had changed.
People remembered what happened during the festival.
The little girl Leo had saved often waved whenever she saw him.
Old merchants greeted him.
Children occasionally invited him to play.
The walls around him were beginning to crack.
One afternoon, Leo was helping repair a wooden fence outside a farmer's house.
His hands were covered in dirt.
His clothes were stained.
The work was exhausting.
But he didn't mind.
The farmer's wife handed him a cup of water.
"Thank you."
Leo accepted it politely.
"You don't have to thank me."
"Of course I do."
The woman smiled.
"Most children would have run away after five minutes."
Leo looked toward the broken fence.
"It needed fixing."
The woman laughed.
"You sound exactly like Fang."
That answer surprised him.
"Really?"
"More than you realize."
The woman walked back toward the house.
Leo stood quietly.
For some reason, hearing those words made him happy.
Very happy.
That evening, dark clouds gathered above the mountains.
A storm was coming.
Villagers hurried home.
Doors closed.
Windows locked.
The wind grew stronger.
Branches swayed violently.
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Inside their home, Leo sat near the fireplace reading an old book while Fang sharpened his sword.
The sound of metal against stone filled the room.
Shhkk.
Shhkk.
Shhkk.
Leo glanced toward the blade.
Even after years, the weapon fascinated him.
The sword looked ordinary.
Simple.
Unremarkable.
Yet whenever Fang held it, the atmosphere changed.
The sword seemed alive.
As if countless battles slept within its steel.
Leo closed his book.
"Can I ask something?"
Fang nodded.
"Always."
The boy hesitated.
Then finally asked.
"Were you really a Legend?"
The sharpening stopped.
Silence filled the room.
Outside, thunder growled across the sky.
Fang stared at the blade.
Then sighed.
"Who told you that?"
"Everyone."
The older man groaned dramatically.
"I knew I should've moved farther away."
Leo laughed.
The question remained unanswered.
Eventually Fang placed the sword aside.
His expression became distant.
As though he were looking into another lifetime.
"A long time ago…"
The room grew quiet.
"A lot of people called me that."
Leo leaned forward.
"What was it like?"
Fang smiled faintly.
"Tiring."
"What?"
"Tiring."
The answer wasn't what Leo expected.
The older man poked the fire with a stick.
"When people call you a legend, they stop seeing you as a person."
Leo listened carefully.
"They see stories."
"They see victories."
"They see power."
The flames reflected in Fang's eyes.
"But they forget you're human."
For a moment, sadness appeared behind his smile.
Then it vanished.
"Anyway."
He stood.
"Enough boring stories."
Leo immediately protested.
"It wasn't boring."
"Oh?"
"No."
Fang laughed.
"Then maybe someday I'll tell you more."
The boy nodded.
Excited.
He had never heard Fang talk about his past before.
Not once.
And now he wanted to know everything.
The storm arrived shortly after midnight.
Rain hammered the roof.
Lightning illuminated the valley.
Thunder shook the mountains.
Most villagers stayed inside.
Safe.
Warm.
Unaware that danger had arrived with the storm.
Far beyond the village…
Several figures stood atop a cliff.
Black cloaks.
Hidden faces.
Silent eyes.
Rain poured around them.
Yet none moved.
One of them stepped forward.
"Is this the place?"
Another nodded.
"The reports were correct."
"The Legend lives here."
Lightning flashed.
For a brief moment, cold smiles appeared beneath their hoods.
"What about the child?"
"We don't know."
The first man narrowed his eyes.
"Then find out."
Thunder exploded across the sky.
The figures vanished into the darkness.
Like ghosts.
Like shadows.
Like hunters approaching their prey.
Back in the village, Fang suddenly opened his eyes.
The fireplace had burned low.
Rain continued pounding against the roof.
The room was dark.
Quiet.
Yet something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
The legendary warrior slowly stood.
Years of battle had taught him to trust his instincts.
And right now...
Every instinct was screaming.
Danger.
His eyes moved toward the window.
Toward the storm.
Toward the darkness beyond.
The feeling disappeared as quickly as it came.
But Fang remained standing.
Watching.
Listening.
Waiting.
Then a small voice spoke behind him.
"Can't sleep?"
Leo stood in the doorway rubbing his eyes.
Fang immediately smiled.
"Bad dream?"
The boy nodded.
"A little."
The older man walked over and placed a hand on his head.
"Come here."
Leo sat beside the fireplace.
The storm roared outside.
Lightning illuminated the room.
For a moment, the world felt distant.
Small.
Safe.
Fang stared at the flames.
Then spoke quietly.
"Do you know something?"
"What?"
"No matter how strong the storm becomes…"
Leo listened.
"It always ends."
The boy watched the fire.
The words sounded simple.
Yet comforting.
Like most things Fang said.
Outside, thunder continued shaking the mountains.
Inside, father and son sat beside the fire.
Neither knew that eyes were already watching the village.
Neither knew that the peace they treasured was beginning to crack.
And neither knew...
That the first step toward tragedy had already been taken.
Far beyond the storm.
Far beyond the darkness.
Someone had finally found them.
And soon…
The world would remember the name Fang.