The gates of Valcrest Manor creaked open as Leon stepped inside.
Servants froze mid-motion at the sight before them.
A blood-streaked heir carrying the front weight of a massive forest boar. Behind him walked a tall armored warrior, silent and steady, bearing the rear of the carcass as if it weighed nothing at all.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then the head steward hurried forward, bowing quickly.
"My lord, are you injured?"
"Nothing serious," Leon replied calmly. "Send for a healer to inspect the cut on my arm. And have this beast processed. The hide is thick. It should fetch a decent price."
The steward's eyes flicked nervously toward the armored figure.
"And this… gentleman?"
Leon did not hesitate.
"A retainer."
The answer was simple enough.
Minor noble houses often hired wandering warriors or mercenaries. It was not unusual. It was only rare for House Valcrest to afford such things.
The steward nodded carefully. "Understood."
Leon continued walking, boots echoing faintly against stone as he entered the manor proper. The armored warrior followed two steps behind him, shield resting against his forearm, spear upright and steady.
Leon did not look back.
But he felt it.
The presence was no longer distant.
It was real.
Solid.
Bound.
Inside his chamber, Leon closed the door and turned.
The warrior stood near the wall, silent as ever.
Up close, the armor was even more striking. It was not ornate. No jewels. No unnecessary engravings. The metal bore scratches and dents that told stories of battles long past. The shield was large and round, built for coverage rather than elegance.
The spear it carried was different from Leon's training weapon.
Longer.
Heavier.
Balanced for war.
Leon studied the figure carefully.
"You said others wait beyond," Leon began.
"Yes."
"How many?"
The warrior was silent for several seconds.
"Many."
Leon exhaled slowly.
"Then why only one?"
"You survived alone," the warrior replied. "You fought without retreat. You adjusted. That is enough for one."
The system echoed softly in Leon's mind.
Current summon capacity: 1.
Increase capacity through strength and battlefield merit.
So it would not grow simply through time.
He would have to earn it.
Good.
Leon removed his blood-stained outer shirt and allowed the healer to inspect his arm. The wound was cleaned and wrapped tightly.
"Rest tonight," the healer advised. "The cut is shallow, but infection is no friend."
Leon nodded, though he had no intention of idling.
When the chamber was empty again, he looked at the warrior.
"You will not be visible to others at all times," Leon said quietly.
"I will appear as required," the warrior replied.
Leon frowned slightly. "Explain."
"When presence invites suspicion, I withdraw."
The words were calm, almost matter-of-fact.
So the world would see what it expected to see.
A hired retainer.
Not something summoned from beyond understanding.
Leon felt a flicker of relief.
He stepped toward the window and looked out across Valcrest lands.
The territory was modest. A patchwork of farmland, forest edges, and small villages under the family's protection. Not wealthy. Not powerful.
But still his.
"How strong are you?" Leon asked.
The warrior did not answer immediately.
"Strong enough to hold a line. Not strong enough to win a war."
Leon nodded.
That sounded honest.
The next morning, word of the forest boar spread quickly through Valcrest territory.
Villagers gathered near the manor gates, whispering in awe at the size of the beast's carcass. Children stared wide-eyed at the tusks.
Leon stood beside his father as the hide was measured.
"A fine specimen," his father said quietly. "The meat alone will feed several villages for days."
Leon nodded.
"The forest activity is increasing," he added.
His father's expression darkened slightly. "Yes. Reports have mentioned movement deeper within."
Leon hesitated, then spoke.
"If it worsens, our forces are thin."
His father studied him carefully.
"You are thinking of expanding them."
"Yes."
His father's gaze shifted briefly toward the armored warrior standing near the gate.
"That retainer of yours," his father said slowly. "Where did you find him?"
"In the forest," Leon replied.
That was not entirely false.
His father considered this.
"He moves like a veteran."
"He is."
Silence lingered between them.
Finally, his father gave a small nod.
"House Valcrest cannot afford complacency. If you believe strengthening our guard is necessary, do it carefully."
Leon felt something shift within him.
Permission.
Responsibility.
"I will," he said.
Training changed after that.
Leon no longer practiced alone.
The armored warrior stood opposite him in the early morning mist, shield raised.
"Strike," the warrior instructed.
Leon thrust.
The shield intercepted the blow effortlessly.
"Again."
Leon adjusted his angle, aiming slightly lower. The shield shifted just enough to deflect.
"Too predictable," the warrior said.
Leon gritted his teeth and attacked again.
Hours passed.
The warrior did not tire.
Leon did.
His arms burned. His palms reopened from previous blisters. Sweat blurred his vision.
Each time he failed to bypass the shield, the warrior corrected him.
"Control distance."
"Do not chase."
"Force commitment."
Leon's frustration grew.
"You speak as if it is simple," he snapped once.
"It is not," the warrior replied evenly. "That is why it must be mastered."
Leon exhaled sharply and reset his stance.
He remembered the boar.
He remembered stepping into danger rather than retreating.
He changed his approach.
Instead of attacking directly, he feinted high, then pivoted sharply to strike at the warrior's flank.
The shield moved slower this time.
The spear tip brushed against armor.
Minor insight gained.
Leon's eyes sharpened.
He attacked again, refining the motion.
The second strike landed more cleanly.
The warrior lowered his shield slightly.
"Better."
Leon's chest rose and fell heavily.
The system did not shower him with rewards.
It acknowledged improvement.
Nothing more.
By midday, Leon collapsed onto the ground, staring up at the sky.
The warrior stood over him, silent.
"How long until I can summon another?" Leon asked quietly.
"When you no longer rely on me," the warrior answered.
Leon let out a dry laugh.
"That may take time."
"We have time."
Leon did not respond.
He was not certain the world would be patient.
That evening, a messenger arrived from House Ferrowyn.
Leon was summoned to attend a joint hunting excursion the following day. Several young nobles would participate. It was framed as a gesture of cooperation between houses.
Leon read the invitation twice.
His father watched him carefully.
"They wish to observe you," his father said.
Leon nodded.
"Let them."
He looked toward the armored warrior.
"You will not intervene unless I am at the brink of death."
The warrior's response was immediate.
"As you command."
Leon's gaze hardened slightly.
"If I cannot survive among nobles without hidden assistance, I am not worthy of command."
The warrior inclined his head.
Night fell slowly over Valcrest Manor.
Leon stood once more at the training grounds, spear in hand.
Tomorrow, he would not face beasts alone.
He would face scrutiny.
Expectation.
And perhaps hostility disguised as camaraderie.
The mist thickened around him as he practiced one final thrust.
This time, the spear cut the air cleanly, without tremor.
But somewhere beyond the forest, unseen eyes watched the manor lights with quiet interest.
Not the eyes of beasts.
The eyes of men.
And they had already begun calculating.