The morning wind swept along the outer moat of Hochburg's walls, carrying the smell of damp earth and grass freshly pressed by wagon wheels.
Beneath the shadow of the towering stone gate, I stepped outside.
Two guards stood side by side at the iron door, their spears upright. Their gazes followed me without a word, only a questioning look that stopped right at my back.
I ignored them.
Their armor creaked softly as I passed, and after that, only the sound of my footsteps remained on the dirt road.
The air beyond the walls felt more open. In the distance, the clusters of trees of the Western Forest formed a dark line beneath the sky. Beyond them, a goblin nest.
If it is a Demon, then my sword will find its flesh.
The hilt of the sword at my waist felt cold as I tightened my grip on it, the leather rough, fitting perfectly in my palm. The blade swayed lightly against my thigh with every step, reminding me of a purpose that could not be delayed.
The sun was not yet high, its rays slanting across the ground. From its position, the shadows were still long, the morning not far gone. Perhaps the day was wedged somewhere between nine and eight o'clock, roughly.
Enough time to go, but not enough time to hesitate.
I set my feet on the road heading west. Fine dust lifted around my boots, dry leaves were dragged by the wind, and the sound of birds slipped between the branches. The forest in the distance looked as though it were waiting, its dark mouth open without a sound.
Then another voice cut through the silence.
"Sir Demon Hunter! Wait for me!"
The shout broke the air like a stone thrown into water. My feet stopped at once; small pebbles shifted under my soles. I turned.
On the same road, a little behind me, a man was jogging to catch up. His blond hair was short, reflecting sunlight like freshly polished metal.
His breathing was steady, not the breath of someone who hesitated.
Heavy armor wrapped his body, thick steel plates on his chest, shoulder guards marked with old scratches. Every step produced a deep metallic clink.
Gerrard.
He stopped a few paces from me.
"Hey," my voice came out louder than I thought. "Why are you following me?"
There was no smile on his face.
Only a hardening look in his eyes, as if something were burning behind them.
"I will come along," he said without beating around the bush. "Take me with you."
His words fell simply, but heavily. What was he going to do at the Goblin Cave? This journey was not a place for people seeking peace. Yet his gaze refused to shift from me for even a second.
No fear.
No laughter.
Only resolve that tightened his jaw.
"I will never live in peace," he continued, his voice lowering. "If I do not avenge my friends. If I am with you, I will not be a burden, because I am Vangua—"
"I know," I said quietly. "You are a Vanguard."
I lifted my hand slightly, stopping his words before he could finish.
My eyes dropped briefly to his armor, the thick plates, a dull impact mark on the left side, a long scratch along the metal wrist guard, armor made not for running, but for enduring blows.
"Just from that heavy armor, it is obvious."
Even the shield he held was proof enough that he was a frontliner.
The wind blew again. Leaves at the roadside rustled. Ahead of us, the road stretched toward the dark forest.
"Suit yourself, but do not blame me if you die!"
Annoying.
Without another word, I started walking again.
My sound, footsteps touching the ground.
His sound, metal clinking softly.
For a while we walked without words. Only the sound of wind and brushing branches. And we entered the forest together.
Then his voice broke it again.
"Si Sir Demon Hunter…"
"What?"
"May I ask something?"
"Ask."
He hesitated for a moment, then his voice came out.
"Why do the veterans not just wipe out weak monsters, if they endanger humans?"
The question hung in the air. And a crow flew low above us, its wings rustling.
I snorted briefly.
"A beginner's question."
His face reddened slightly, but he did not lower his head.
We passed a patch of trampled grass, small footprints scattered about. Among the blades, little claw marks crossed each other.
I pointed at them.
"Look at that."
"Goblin tracks."
"Right," I said. "Now look around."
He observed the quiet field, small birds perching again on reed stalks, and a small open burrow.
I continued,
"If all Goblins are wiped out by veterans, those birds lose their small prey, insects grow out of control, fields are ruined, forests change. Nature does not like empty spaces. Something else will fill them."
He fell silent.
"So they are left alone?"
"No, they are controlled. That is what beginners are for. They learn. They fight. They fall. But nature stays balanced."
He lowered his head slightly.
His armor creaked softly.
"Then you?" he asked. "You are a named one who seeks De—"
I cut him off.
"I am looking for something else."
I am looking for unpaid revenge, the Demon that ate my mother. I will chase it even into hell, Liebe!
The shadow of the forest grew larger before us. Between the trees, darkness thickened like something breathing.
"The Guild is not allowed to deal with Demons," I continued quietly. "So people say my name when they are afraid to say that word out loud, and I come."
For some reason, I could share this story with him.
Gerrard looked ahead. On his face there was no more doubt, only a subtle, burning resolve.
Our steps kept following the narrow path between the trees. Dry leaves crunched under our shoes, while a thin mist began to hang low between the trunks.
Gerrard walked half a step behind me, as if keeping a polite distance, yet not wanting to be too far. From the corner of my eye, I saw his broad shoulders no longer slumped like yesterday.
He drew a quiet breath, as if gathering courage not meant for fighting.
"You know, Sir Demon Hunter…" his voice came out unhurried, but not trembling. "I think you are not like the rumors."
I did not answer. A small twig snapped under my foot.
"And you know… my party and I grew up in an orphanage."
His steps slowed for a moment as he mentioned it. His gaze was no longer fixed on the road ahead, but on something far behind, a place I could not see.
"My goal in becoming an adventurer was to make a lot of money."
His lips pulled slightly, not a broad smile, just a thin line holding something back from breaking.
"Is that so?" I said flatly.
He nodded once.
The armor on his chest sounded softly.
"Yes, to feed the hungry children there."
The word children changed his tone. There was a warmth that did not fit with the steel and blood around us.
For a moment I could see it, a small room, simple bowls, little hands reaching out.
He did not need to explain it, the way he swallowed was enough.
"And, Sir Demon Hunter…" now his voice was truly steady. "When this is over, please allow me to travel with you."
I did not stop walking.
"I refuse."
My answer fell to the ground just like that, like a short knife.
No pause.
No circling of words.
Dry leaves crunched again under my boots. For a moment, silence took over the path between the trees.
Behind me, Gerrard let out a small laugh, short, broken, but not bitter.
"Heh… if you do not want to," he said, not forcing cheerfulness but still trying. "Then please visit the Carrington village orphanage someday."
So he is from the north? Near my village, Valley.
He looked down at the ground, then forward again.
"Yes, we have a friend there, her name is Aira, still in the orphanage. Thank goodness she did not become an adventurer with us. She has a little sister."
His eyes were not wet, but something glimmered there, not water, but resolve.
"I cannot answer," he continued softly. "If the children ask about my party."
His steps were no longer unsteady.
His shoulders were straight.
"You know, Sir Demon Hunter, I love Aira, that woman. I am very grateful that she does not have to die as an adventurer."
"Why are you telling me your life? I do not care about the woman you love, it is annoying."
"Hahaha, come with me to Carrington. You will know why I love her."
"No, I refuse. It is just troublesome, and besides, who are you in my life?"
A while ago he had nearly drowned in despair, now his eyes had a direction, like someone who finally saw the road home after being lost for a long time.
"Hahaha, turns out the rumor about the cold Demon Hunter is not entirely wrong. You are very cold, Sir."
I let out a short breath that did not turn into words. Something warm and annoying slipped into my chest.
Annoying.
But good.