The staff looked at him with approval when Eric led the horse to the registration area.
—Fine specimen —one of them commented—. Not everyone manages to tame one like that on the first try.
Eric patted the horse's neck.
—We're going to get along just fine.
The transaction was simple.
—Registration: 20 rupees.
—Harness: Free.
Eric paid without haggling. Some things were worth exactly what they cost.
He adjusted the straps carefully and gave the horse one last pat on the neck.
—All set —he said—. From today on, your name is Astra.
The horse let out a soft whinny, as if approving the name.
Eric smiled and fed him a green apple.
—Good boy—
Then he mounted in a single smooth motion and, without looking back, gave the signal.
Astra burst into a gallop.
The wind struck Eric's face as they left the stable behind.
The ground trembled beneath the hooves, and the hills of central Hyrule rose ahead.
Scattered ruins. Broken roads. Collapsed structures.
Central Hyrule was a wasteland. Thinking that this place had once been full of prosperity over a hundred years ago, and that now it was nothing but mold-covered ruins, sent a chill down the spine.
Still, Eric smiled, choosing to see the bright side.
The view was incredible.
Astra surged forward, cutting through the tall grass, until Eric tugged gently on the reins. The horse obeyed instantly, slowing and coming to a stop amid the grass.
From here on, the wind carried a scent of rust, a smell Eric was already beginning to recognize as a warning.
Looking toward the horizon, something moved in the distance.
Eric dismounted carefully, placed a calming hand on the horse's neck, and guided him toward a shallow dip in the terrain.
—Stay here —he whispered—. I'll be right back—
Astra didn't understand the words, but he did understand Eric's intent.
Eric nodded in approval, crouched, and advanced a few meters, keeping himself below the hill's crest. He raised his head just enough to look.
—There they are—
There they stood.
Two Guardians.
They walked in opposing patterns, almost lazily, like war machines that expected no resistance, simply ensuring no one came too close to their territory.
Their mechanical legs stabbed into the earth with precise movements.
Each step kicked up small clouds of dust and sent a metallic hum through the ground.
One slowly rotated its head, its central eye sweeping the field with a dim, inactive glow.
The other paused for a second, recalculated its route, and continued on.
Eric narrowed his eyes.
—They look pretty imposing —he murmured—. Though they're not all that impressive—
There was no arrogance in his tone.
Simply observation.
They looked damaged. Ancient. Rusted.
Their movements weren't as fluid as the stories claimed.
Some plates were dented, others covered in moss. Years of neglect took their toll, even on machines built for war.
Eric watched calmly, measuring distances.
One patrolled near low ruins. The other skirted a broken hill, leaving a wide dead zone between them.
If they activated at the same time, it would be a problem.
A big problem.
If not…
He smiled faintly.
—This is going to be a real challenge —he told himself.
He lay flat against the ground, propping himself on his elbows. His hand moved instinctively toward his back, then stopped.
First, he wanted to observe a bit more.
The next moment, the first Guardian halted.
Its eye brightened slightly, as if something had brushed the edge of its detection range.
Eric held his breath.
Nothing.
The beam didn't charge. The Guardian rotated its head and resumed its patrol.
—Old sensors —he whispered—. Or damaged—
Eric eased backward.
—Easy —he told himself—
But his movement was just enough.
The mistake was minimal.
The first Guardian's eye changed color.
Red.
A deep hum filled the air the instant it locked on, and in a perfectly synchronized motion, the machine turned its head.
The second Guardian responded immediately, its eye igniting like a waking ember.
—Damn it! —Eric cursed—
He sprinted toward a massive rock half-buried in the ground, diving for cover. The moment the hum shifted, he launched himself to higher ground.
The second Guardian fired anyway.
BOOM!
Eric was already fully behind cover.
He drew the Bow of Light in one smooth motion.
The ancient wood thrummed in his hand. The runes etched into its surface pulsed eagerly, as if the weapon itself had been waiting for this fight.
—Were you waiting for this too? —Eric whispered without sound.
The bow answered with a vibration.
Eric drew the string.
A light arrow formed instantly. Even the wind seemed to bend away from its path.
The first beam finally fired from the Guardian's eye.
Eric jumped without hesitation.
The blast of energy passed beneath him, tearing through earth and stone where he had been a heartbeat earlier.
He hit the ground rolling, came up in the same motion, and fired.
The arrow struck a front leg and pierced deep.
The metal joint screeched, strained… then collapsed.
The Guardian crashed onto its side with a dull thunder, its second beam firing uselessly into the sky.
—That's it? —Eric said calmly, watching the painfully obvious weakness play out.
He didn't have time to dwell on it.
The second Guardian was already adjusting its aim, locking onto his position.
Eric bolted diagonally, using the uneven terrain to break the direct line.
The beam skimmed the hillside, vaporizing grass mere inches from his back.
He leapt again, drew the bow midair, and fired twice in quick succession.
The first arrow struck the eye, knocking the next beam off-target mid-charge.
The second hit just below it, straight into the exposed core.
The Guardian convulsed as blue sparks raced across its body before it exploded into fragments.
Eric landed, breathing hard, feeling the bow vibrate in his hand as if it were laughing.
—So you're just —he murmured—. —Old machines with too much pride.
The first Guardian, still on the ground, tried to right itself, refusing to give up.
Eric aimed carefully.
—Rest in peace—
The final arrow pierced the exposed core from below.
Like a shot straight through the backside.
Silence fell over the hill once more.
Eric finally lowered his guard when the last metallic hum faded away.
He walked among the remains at an unhurried pace, watching the shells cool and crumble into recognizable parts.
He crouched.
—Let's see…
He began collecting carefully, almost fondly, with a technician's appreciation:
Ancient screws.
Guardian shafts.
Old springs.
Gears.
And finally, Guardian cores, one intact, the other cracked but usable.
There were also fragments of still-warm plating, conduits, shattered lenses.
Each piece was identified by the system as it entered his awareness.
He stored them one by one.
—Fifty pieces… —he murmured, a grin creeping onto his face—.
—Not bad at all—
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