When Mira Valen was a child, the stories always began the same way.
"Don't wander too far into the woods," the adults would warn. "The Death Knight roams there."
To most children, that was enough to spark nightmares.
But Mira had always leaned closer to the fire whenever his name came up.
The old soldiers told stories in hushed voices. Stories about a man clad in black armor who never seemed to fall in battle. A warrior who could walk through dragon fire without flinching. A knight who had once stood alone against an entire army—and somehow walked away.
They called him a monster.
They said he commanded the power of death itself.
They said he couldn't die.
The other children trembled whenever the stories grew darker.
Mira didn't.
She stared at the flames with wide, shining eyes and whispered to herself,
That sounds amazing.
Years passed, and stories turned into training.
Mira Valen grew into a knight of the kingdom.
Not just any knight.
A good one.
Her swordsmanship was sharp, her instincts sharper, and her determination had earned her a reputation among the ranks. She was reliable in battle and stubborn enough to keep fighting even when things turned ugly.
There was something else people noticed too.
Mira was beautiful.
Not the fragile, distant kind of beauty that nobles liked to parade at banquets. Hers was livelier—bright silver eyes,long pink hair , and a smile that appeared only when she forgot people were looking.
The other knights noticed.
Of course they did.
They tried to talk to her whenever they could. Some were awkward about it, others overly confident.
One even wrote her a poem once.
Mira had thanked him politely.
Then she went back to sharpening her sword.
Romance had never interested her much. Not when there were patrols to run, monsters to hunt, and real work to be done.
Still, there was another reason.
A quiet one she never admitted aloud.
Somewhere deep inside, the stories from her childhood had never faded.
The Death Knight.
The knight who never died.
The mission had sounded simple enough.
A disturbance in a nearby town.
Strange figures seen at night. Fires, broken homes, frightened villagers.
Probably bandits.
At least, that's what Mira had expected.
By the time she arrived, it was clear things were worse than that.
Smoke drifted through the narrow streets.
A house near the center of town had partially collapsed, its wooden beams still crackling with dying embers. Villagers huddled together near a well, whispering anxiously.
And scattered through the square were bodies.
Not villagers.
Men dressed in dark robes and hooded cloaks.
Magic users.
Mira's grip tightened around the hilt of her sword.
There were still several of them standing.
Six.
No—seven.
They turned when they noticed her.
One of them laughed under his hood.
"Well, look at that," he said. "The kingdom sent us a little knight."
Another tilted his head slightly.
"She's alone."
That wasn't good.
Magic users were trouble even in small numbers. Facing several of them by herself was… less than ideal.
Still, Mira stepped forward anyway.
Her armor shifted quietly as she raised her sword.
"Step away from the villagers," she said firmly.
The hooded figures exchanged amused glances.
Then one of them lifted a hand.
Dark energy flickered to life around his fingers.
"Kill her."
The others began moving.
Mira exhaled slowly.
Alright.
Not the best odds.
But she had handled worse before.
She adjusted her stance.
The first spell was already forming in the air when—
Something changed.
The temperature dropped.
It wasn't dramatic at first. Just a strange chill that crept through the square like an unwelcome breeze.
One of the hooded men paused.
"…Do you feel that?"
Another turned his head slightly.
Then Mira heard it.
A single sound.
Clink.
Metal against stone.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Coming from somewhere behind the robed figures.
The hooded men turned.
Mira followed their gaze.
Someone was walking into the square.
He didn't hurry.
Didn't raise a weapon.
He simply moved forward with calm, deliberate steps.
Black armor covered him from head to toe, worn but solid, the surface faintly scratched from countless battles. A long dark cloak hung from his shoulders, swaying slightly as he walked.
At his side rested a massive sword.
Not drawn.
Just… waiting.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then one of the mages spoke.
"…Who are you supposed to be?"
The armored figure stopped.
For a second, there was only silence.
Then he moved.
It happened so quickly Mira barely saw it.
The man's sword left its sheath in a flash of cold steel.
One of the hooded figures collapsed before the others even realized what had happened.
Another tried to raise a spell.
Too slow.
The black-armored warrior moved again.
The sound of metal cutting through air echoed across the square.
One by one, the robed attackers fell.
Not a single wasted motion.
Not a single moment of hesitation.
Within seconds, the last of them dropped to the ground.
Silence returned to the square.
The armored man wiped his blade once against a fallen cloak before sliding it back into its sheath.
Then he turned.
For the first time, Mira could see part of his face beneath the shadow of his helmet.
Calm.
Unreadable.
And strangely… tired.
Her heart was beating faster now.
Not from fear.
From recognition.
From something she had heard in stories a thousand times as a child.
Without realizing it, she whispered the words under her breath.
"…The Death Knight."
He looked at her.
And for a brief moment, his eyes narrowed slightly.
As if he were wondering why a lone knight was staring at him like that.
Then he spoke.
His voice was quiet.
"Shouldn't you be running."
The question hung in the air between them.
Mira blinked.
Running?
She glanced around the ruined square. The robed attackers were already lying motionless on the ground. The villagers were peeking nervously from behind carts and doorways, too frightened to even speak.
There was nothing left to run from.
Slowly, she looked back at him.
Up close, the stories didn't feel exaggerated anymore.
The black armor looked ancient, scratched and dented in places that had clearly seen countless battles. The sword at his side was enormous—far larger than any blade a normal knight would carry comfortably.
And yet he held himself with the relaxed posture of someone completely unbothered.
Like the fight had barely been worth noticing.
Mira swallowed.
This was really him.
For a moment, the younger version of herself—the girl who used to sit by the fire listening to stories—felt very close to the surface.
She had imagined this moment a hundred different ways.
But now that it was actually happening…
Her mind was strangely blank.
The Death Knight tilted his head slightly.
"…Well?"
His voice pulled her back.
Right.
She was still standing there, staring at him like an idiot.
Mira quickly straightened, clearing her throat.
"I'm not running," she said.
The Death Knight studied her for a second.
His gaze moved over her armor, the sword in her hand, the crest of the kingdom engraved on her chest plate.
"A knight," he muttered.
Not impressed. Not surprised.
Just… stating a fact.
He glanced briefly at the bodies scattered across the square before turning away.
"Your problem's solved," he said. "Handle the rest."
Then he started walking.
Just like that.
Like saving the town had been nothing more than a minor interruption in his day.
Mira stared after him.
Wait.
He was leaving?
After everything she had heard about him… after finally meeting him…
He was just going to disappear again?
The thought bothered her more than it should have.
Without thinking, she called out.
"Wait!"
The Death Knight stopped.
Not dramatically.
Just… paused.
His head turned slightly, enough for her to know he was listening.
Mira jogged a few steps closer before stopping a safe distance away.
Up close, the air around him felt different.
Colder somehow.
Not painfully cold—just enough to make the back of her neck prickle.
She hesitated.
This was stupid.
Every story she had ever heard about him ended the same way.
People who got too close to the Death Knight didn't usually live long.
Still…
She had never been very good at walking away from things that mattered to her.
"…Thank you," she said finally.
The words sounded awkward the moment they left her mouth.
The Death Knight didn't respond immediately.
For a second she wondered if he had simply decided to ignore her.
Then he spoke.
"They would've killed you."
His tone wasn't mocking.
Just… factual.
Mira shrugged slightly.
"Maybe."
He glanced at her again.
"…You were outnumbered."
"I noticed."
That earned the smallest pause.
Something about her answer seemed to catch his attention.
Mira shifted her weight a little, resting her sword against her shoulder.
"I still would've tried."
The Death Knight studied her more carefully this time.
Not like someone judging her strength.
More like someone trying to figure something out.
"…Why?"
Mira frowned slightly.
"Why what?"
"Why didn't you run?"
The question seemed oddly genuine.
Like he actually expected a real answer.
Mira thought about it for a moment.
Then she gestured lightly toward the villagers still watching from a distance.
"Because they needed help."
The Death Knight followed her gaze briefly.
A child was peeking out from behind a wagon, staring wide-eyed at the black-armored warrior.
When their eyes met, the child immediately ducked back into hiding.
He looked away again.
"…Naive."
Mira smiled faintly.
"Probably."
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Wind moved quietly through the ruined street.
Then the Death Knight turned again.
"Go back, knight," he said. "The job has been taken care off"
And once again, he started walking away.
Mira watched him go.
Her heart was beating faster now.
This was it.
If she let him leave now, she might never see him again.
The legendary warrior she had admired her entire childhood.
The man who fought dragons.
The knight who never died.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the hilt of her sword.
Then she spoke.
"Teach me."
The Death Knight stopped.
This time, he didn't move for several seconds.
Slowly, he turned back toward her.
"…What?"
Mira took a breath.
Her pulse was racing now, but she forced the words out anyway.
"Teach me," she repeated.
The silence that followed felt heavier than any battle.
For a moment, the Death Knight simply stared at her.
Then—
He laughed.
It wasn't loud.
But it was unmistakably genuine.
The sound echoed strangely in the empty square.
When he finally stopped, he shook his head slightly.
"You can't be serious."
Mira crossed her arms.
"I am."
The Death Knight studied her again.
This time, there was something different in his expression.
Something between disbelief… and curiosity.
"You're a knight of the kingdom," he said slowly.
"And you're the Death Knight."
"…Exactly."
Mira shrugged.
"That's kind of the point."
Another pause.
The wind rustled the edges of his cloak.
"…You know what people say about me," he said quietly.
Mira nodded.
"You kill monsters."
"That's not what they say."
"They say a lot of things."
Her eyes met his steadily.
"I prefer the first version."
The Death Knight went silent again.
For a moment, the square felt strangely still.
Then he spoke.
"…You're either very brave," he said.
"Or very stupid."
Mira smiled slightly.
"Maybe both."
For the first time since they met, something like faint amusement flickered in his eyes.
But it disappeared just as quickly.
"Go home, knight," he said.
"You don't want a teacher like me."
And with that, he turned once more.
But this time—
Mira didn't move.
Didn't argue.
Didn't call after him.
She simply stood there.
Watching him walk away.
And thinking quietly to herself:
I'll just have to convince you.
And with that she took off.