Instantly, Rekon drew his sword. At the exact same moment, the squire placed his hand on his own hilt, casting a stern glare at Rekon as if admonishing him. Driven by the terrifying thought of losing Rowan, Rekon continued to draw his blade. Beside him, Maria stood frozen, unsure of what to do, while Syla prepared her magic. All of this transpired in less time than a flash of lightning across a dark, cloudy sky.
Just as Rekon thought an unavoidable fight was about to erupt, the devotee spoke in a completely normal tone. "It seems like a fake symbol, but it's not. I must be getting old. No devotee in over a century has seen a fake symbol... how could one appear now?"
Then, he began to laugh as if nothing had happened. Maria caught herself before falling into an abyss of fear and looked at her son. Syla aborted her spell.
Rekon locked eyes with the devotee. Seeing no hint of hostility, he slowly pushed his sword back into its sheath.
Lowering his hand, the squire watched Rekon's every move before looking away, deliberately ignoring him. Rekon calmed himself with a long exhale and wiped away the sweat from his forehead with his index finger. Just then, a melodic voice echoed nearby.
The blessing ceremony had begun.
The devotee placed both hands on Rowan's body, leaning his head back toward the ceiling—toward the open sky. Closing his eyes, he raised his voice in prayer. To the listeners, it sounded less like a chant and more like a divine song from heaven.
Though Rekon couldn't understand a word, the melody soothed his heart, washing away the terror of losing his child. Maria and Syla felt the same calm settle over them. Rekon glanced at the squire and was surprised to see that the man actually seemed to be enjoying it.
After a moment, a faint light emerged where the devotee's hands met Rowan's body. It drifted upward, fading just as it touched the ceiling.
Finally, the blessing ceremony ended, clearing all fear and anxiety from their minds. The devotee and the squire walked outside, followed by Rekon.
Standing by the door, Maria and Syla watched as Rekon stood near the house while the devotee and squire departed into the distance.
Rekon returned inside and locked the door behind him. Carrying Rowan, Maria and Syla approached him. Rowan was half-asleep, a small smile playing on his lips.
Rekon smiled back, thinking, They barely managed to save that cute smile.
"My sweetheart, I thought you were going to leave me. I was so scared, you know," Maria whispered softly, kissing Rowan.
Syla longed to hold Rowan as well, but feeling she lacked the right, she remained standing. Still, she felt a wave of joy seeing their smiles return. In their happiness, she caught a glimpse of someone—someone close to her—who had been lost long ago, like a fading dream. Tears filled her eyes. Wiping them away, Syla quietly slipped into the kitchen, leaving the family to their sweet moment.
By noon, the sun sat directly overhead.
Syla prepared a meal and laid it out on the table. The family sat together and enjoyed the food. Rekon shared a funny story, drawing smiles and laughter from everyone, and Syla shared one of her own. For a brief time, the house was filled with joy, and they completely forgot the danger they had just survived.
Afterward, Rekon took a nap in a chair while Maria lay in bed beside Rowan.
They somehow managed to bury the lie, Maria thought, her mind wandering. But does a lie stay buried forever?
With those lingering thoughts, she drifted off to sleep, gazing at her son.
In the late afternoon, a sharp, loud knock on the door shattered the silence.
Syla, who was nearby, immediately walked toward the door. The sound woke Rekon, who opened his eyes just as the knocking grew louder and more aggressive.
Before Syla could reach the door, Rekon rushed past her and pulled it open. They both froze, their eyes widening in shock.
Five armed soldiers stood at the threshold, their eyes locked on Rekon.
Rekon took a cautious step forward. "Why are you—"
"We are here on the orders of Devotee Samuel, who visited your home this morning," one of the soldiers interrupted sternly.
The noise woke Maria, who hurried over to join Syla.
"What order?" Rekon asked, his expression twisting with anxiety and confusion. Syla wondered why soldiers would be sent right after a blessing ceremony, while Maria's face paled.
The lead soldier replied cold-bloodedly, "We were ordered to take your child."
A wave of shock hit Maria and Syla.
"Why would he give such an order?!" Rekon shouted. "He finished the ceremony this morning and blessed my child!"
Rekon slowly stepped toward them while subtly signaling Syla to fetch his sword. Maria joined in the shouting, trying to buy time for Syla. They both knew words meant nothing against the Church, but they needed a weapon.
The soldiers endured the shouting for only a moment. Then, the leader drew his blade, pointed it at the couple, and barked, "Stop this nonsense! Follow instructions and hand over the child immediately. Resist, and you will die."
Syla slipped back into the room, hiding the sword behind her back before passing it into Rekon's hands.
Rekon instantly drew the blade against the soldier. The guards looked surprised—they hadn't expected a commoner to have the courage to raise a weapon against soldiers of the Church.
"You know what this means," the lead soldier growled, glaring at the sword. "I'll give you one chance. Lower your weapon and beg for your life."
Rekon remained as still as a rock.
Seeing that Rekon refused to obey, the soldier's expression darkened. "The price of disobedience is blood." He signaled to the others. "Charge."
One soldier stepped forward while the remaining three unsheathed their weapons, surrounding the perimeter.
The first soldier swung his sword downward in a powerful strike. Rekon parried it, but the force of the impact vibrated violently through his entire body. He shot a glance back at Maria and Syla, silently telling them to prepare—this fight was going to be brutal.
The soldier launched into a rapid combination—slashing down, right, and left. Rekon struggled desperately to block the flurry, earning a cruel chuckle from his opponent.
Rekon realized quickly that this was no amateur; these men were highly skilled warriors chosen specifically to serve the Church.
Taking a few quick steps back to catch his breath, Rekon stole a quick glance at the women behind him. Maria was preparing her healing magic, while Syla was casting her charm spell.
Suddenly, the soldier lunged forward, thrusting his blade toward Rekon's neck. Caught off guard, Rekon jerked his head back as fast as he could.
He barely avoided getting decapitated, but the tip of the blade sliced across his neck and grazed his leg. Stumbling back two paces, Rekon stared at his opponent. The other soldiers chuckled, impressed by their comrade's speed.
Before the wound could bleed further, a warm sensation washed over Rekon. The pain in his neck and leg instantly vanished. Without looking back, he knew Maria had healed him.
Seeing the wounds close so quickly, the soldier scowled in annoyance. "Ah, damn it... I hate healers. Though, I've collected quite a few of their hearts over the years."
With a murderous look, the soldier redirected his target and rushed toward Maria.
Rekon threw himself in the way, acting as a human shield. The soldier swung with enormous force, but Rekon braced himself, matching the man's strength. The soldier's eyes widened in surprise—a commoner was actually holding his own against an experienced warrior.
As they clashed, Rekon focused entirely on the soldier's form—studying how he swung, defended, and dodged. His mind began to adapt, his muscle memory predicting the soldier's next attack.
The soldier tried another sequence, but Rekon parried it smoothly and even managed a quick counter-strike.
"Well, you're turning out to be a real pain," the soldier muttered. "Let's see you defend this!"
He raised his sword, executing an unfamiliar, chaotic form. Rekon was immediately thrown off balance. A sharp blade bit into his shoulder, then his left arm. Blood dripped onto the floor, but Rekon ignored the burning pain. If he fell, his family was dead.
Behind him, Maria poured her strength into healing him, shouting words of encouragement.
In the chaos, the soldier landed a heavy blow against Rekon's right hand. The impact forced Rekon to drop his sword. He lunged to pick it up, but the soldier was already upon him.
Standing over Rekon, the soldier raised his blade high, a triumphant smirk on his face. "This is the end of your little game."
Rekon had nowhere to run. Knowing he couldn't dodge in time, his body moved on pure instinct. He reached out to grab the soldier's arm, desperate to dull the blow and buy his family a few more seconds.
Before the sword could descend, the soldier froze mid-swing, his eyes locking onto something behind Rekon. Rekon glanced back—Syla was completing her charm spell!
Without wasting a millisecond, Rekon grabbed his fallen sword, lunged forward, and decapitated the frozen soldier just as Syla's spell took full effect.
Syla collapsed to her knees, exhausted. Casting a high-level charm spell on an experienced soldier had pushed her body past its limits.
The soldier's heavy body crashed to the ground. The remaining three guards stared in utter shock, their eyes wide.
"You fucking bastard!" one roared.
"I'll carve a hole right through your heart!"
The four remaining soldiers rushed forward at once. Managing one soldier had nearly cost Rekon his life—fighting four was impossible. Yet, Rekon felt no desire to yield. His life didn't matter. His wife and child were everything, and their survival depended on his sword.
"You two grab the women!" one soldier barked. "I'll take this bastard's head!"
Rekon grimaced and took two steps back, trying to read the attack patterns as he had before.
The soldier chuckled, swinging his blade in wild, unpredictable arcs. Rekon failed to predict the trajectory and was immediately forced onto the defensive. Meanwhile, the other two soldiers sprinted past him toward Maria and Syla.
I have to save them! Rekon thought.
He turned to sprint toward his family, but the sharp whistle of a blade cut through the air. Rekon threw himself into a frantic dive to dodge the incoming strike.
"Don't ever turn your back on an enemy," the soldier mocked.
Rekon gritted his teeth. He wouldn't be able to reach Maria and Syla unless he killed this man first.
The soldier was heavily muscled, his face covered in scars from a lifetime of combat. Without giving Rekon time to recover, he lunged, pinning Rekon down under the weight of his sword. Rekon held his blade vertically, deflecting the pressure, but the man's brute strength pushed him down until his knees nearly hit the dirt.
Rekon caught a glimpse of Syla stepping in front of Maria, raising her trembling hands to cast another charm spell.
The soldier pulled his sword back and brought it down in a swift slash aimed at Rekon's arm. Rekon couldn't block it entirely; the blade sliced deep into his flesh. In a fluid motion, the soldier spun his hilt and drove the tip into Rekon's leg.
Pain exploded up Rekon's spine. He stumbled back, gasping.
The soldier smirked. "You can't escape me, boy."
The air filled with the chaotic ringing of steel on steel. Rekon fought desperately, but with every exchange, his body accumulated more cuts. Blood soaked through his clothes.
Then, a terrified scream pierced the air. Maria.
Rekon's heart plummeted—they had been captured.
With both of his legs badly wounded and Maria unable to reach him, every step was agony. But he couldn't stop. He had one final, desperate idea. It was a suicide gamble, but it was his only choice.
Rekon locked eyes with the soldier, determination blazing in his gaze. The soldier met his glare with a wicked smile.
Rekon took a shaky step back, then suddenly charged straight at the soldier.
Confused, the soldier instinctively swung his sword in a brutal vertical arc. But just before the blade struck, Rekon drove his weight onto his wounded leg, leaped into the air, and rolled directly over the soldier's shoulders.
The soldier realized what was happening a second too late.
As Rekon fell to the ground behind him, he swung his sword with all the remaining strength in his body.
Two things broke in that final second: the soldier's neck, and the bones in Rekon's legs as he crashed hard onto the dirt.
The other two soldiers noticed this and charged toward Rekon, fueled by rage.
Rekon no longer had the strength to move his right leg. The distance between him and the soldiers was barely two meters. Left with no choice, he somehow managed to drag himself upright, keeping his broken leg suspended above the ground.
The two soldiers unleashed a relentless barrage of slashes. Rekon struggled desperately to keep his head attached to his neck. His inability to move freely gave his enemies the perfect advantage. Deep gashes tore through his hands, and the severe damage to his legs rendered him completely immobile.
The soldiers, on the other hand, seemed to thoroughly enjoy the two-on-one slaughter. Rekon tried to focus all his attention on their techniques, but the blinding pain formed an impenetrable wall in his mind.
Bathed in his own blood, Rekon tried to take two steps back. At that exact moment, one of the soldiers swept a brutal attack directly at his ruined leg. Rekon collapsed into the dirt, utterly paralyzed.
He stared up at the soldiers looming over him, watching them raise their blades for the finishing blow.
Rekon tried and tried to move his leg, but it was a complete failure.
Damn it, you fucking leg. Move. Move...
It didn't budge an inch. Filled with rage and despair, Rekon stared death in the face.
Suddenly, a heavy piece of wood slammed violently against the backs of the soldiers' heads. They crumpled to the ground instantly.
Rekon looked up and saw Maria and Syla standing over the unconscious bodies, clutching thick wooden planks in their hands.
Syla had managed to cut their binding ropes with a shard of glass—a desperate move that had just saved all three of their lives.
Syla and Maria rushed to Rekon's side, their eyes brimming with tears.
"Are you in pain?" Maria cried.
"Master, you shouldn't have had to fight like this," Syla whispered.
Rekon felt their voices growing blurry and distant, but he fought with everything he had to stay conscious.
Just as the three battered souls finally thought they had won, a deep, menacing voice echoed through the air.
"You are truly entertaining trash. I thoroughly enjoyed watching your spirit turn to despair."
It was the squire who had accompanied the Church devotee earlier that morning—the true captain of the bleeding soldiers on the ground.
"A pleasure to properly meet you, dead humans. I am Iskalet, son of Bejorn."