NIGHT — THE SECOND DAY
The rain did not stop.
It was cold, but Sir Alex stood there unmoving, drenched to the bone. His armor was still smeared with dried blood that refused to wash away in the weather. He carved a blade into the mud, kneeling before it, head bowed.
He hadn't spoken since we buried the bodies.
Not to Jin. Not to the elven warriors. Not even to me.
Sir Jin told me what I already suspected—Sir Alex had sent message scrolls everywhere he could:
To the king.To the high mage.To the Adventurer's Guild.To the families of his fallen knights.
But after that… silence.
A silence that weighed on all of us. He stood alone, eyes lost in something deeper than grief—guilt so heavy it hollowed him out from the inside.
I approached him once… only once.
"Sir Alex," I whispered. "You should rest."
He didn't turn to me. Didn't blink. He only whispered—so faint I nearly missed it—"…They trusted me."
That's all. And nothing more.
