Volume 1: The Fourth Holy Grail War
Chapter 9: The One-Eyed Hermit
The forest was quiet.
Only the sound of footsteps echoed beneath the towering trees.
Morning sunlight filtered through the dense canopy as Ren and Morgan continued their journey.
Neither of them knew where they were going.
The previous night’s camp had been little more than a temporary refuge.
Now…
They simply followed the only path they could find.
“…Are you tired?”
Ren looked toward Morgan.
She shook her head.
“I’m fine.”
“…You’re lying.”
Morgan blinked.
“Is it that obvious?”
Ren smiled helplessly.
“You’ve stumbled three times in the last ten minutes.”
Morgan looked away, embarrassed.
“…I haven’t slept much these past few days.”
Ren didn’t press the matter.
Instead, he quietly slowed his pace.
If Morgan noticed…
She said nothing.
Several hours passed.
The forest gradually changed.
The oppressive atmosphere that had surrounded them since the attack slowly disappeared.
The air became lighter.
The sounds of birds returned.
Even the ancient trees seemed healthier.
Morgan frowned.
“…This place…”
Ren also noticed it.
“It feels…”
“Peaceful.”
Almost unnaturally so.
The deeper they walked…
The stronger that feeling became.
As though an invisible boundary separated this place from the outside world.
Then…
They saw it.
A small wooden cabin stood in the middle of a clearing.
Smoke lazily drifted from its chimney.
Nearby…
A vegetable garden flourished.
An old well rested beneath a massive oak tree.
Beside the cabin…
An elderly man calmly split firewood with an ordinary axe.
Each swing was slow.
Steady.
Without unnecessary movement.
He looked exactly like an old woodsman.
Simple gray clothing.
Long white beard.
A broad-brimmed hat shaded part of his face.
Most notably…
One of his eyes remained covered beneath the hat’s shadow.
The old man didn’t look up.
Instead…
He spoke first.
“You’ve finally arrived.”
Morgan instinctively stepped in front of Ren.
“…You knew we were coming?”
The old man chuckled.
“When an old raven keeps circling above my house all morning…”
“It usually means guests are on their way.”
Only then did he raise his head.
A warm smile appeared on his weathered face.
“Welcome.”
“You both look exhausted.”
Neither Ren nor Morgan relaxed.
The old man noticed immediately.
“Hm.”
“Cautious.”
“That’s good.”
“Fairy Britain isn’t kind to careless children.”
He rested the axe against the chopping block.
“I’ve got stew.”
“And fresh bread.”
“You can continue doubting me after you’ve eaten.”
Morgan hesitated. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Ren quietly looked around.
Everything felt…
Normal.
Too normal.
His instincts, sharpened by years in the forest, sensed no hostility.
After a moment, he nodded.
“…Thank you.”
The old man smiled.
“Good.”
“Come inside.”
The cabin was surprisingly spacious.
Bookshelves lined one wall.
Bundles of dried herbs hung from the ceiling.
Simple wooden furniture filled the room.
Nothing luxurious.
Yet everything was meticulously maintained.
Morgan stared toward the shelves.
“…You have a lot of books.”
“A few.”
The old man casually stirred a large pot hanging above the fireplace.
“Reading helps pass the time.”
Ren glanced over the titles.
Some discussed herbs.
Others explored stars, history, languages and symbols carved into ancient stone.
One particular book caught his attention.
It was bound in dark leather.
Its cover bore several strange markings.
Almost…
Like runes.
The old man noticed his gaze.
“…Interested?”
Ren nodded honestly.
“…A little.”
The old man’s smile widened almost imperceptibly.
“I thought you might be.”
After finishing breakfast…
The old man finally sat across from them.
“So.”
“What are your names?”
“I’m Ren.”
“Morgan.”
He nodded.
“Good names.”
“My own name…”
He paused.
“…hasn’t been important for a very long time.”
“You may simply call me…”
“Old Man.”
Morgan looked confused.
“…Just Old Man?”
He laughed.
“Is that so strange?”
Ren smiled.
“It suits you.”
“Hahaha!”
The old man’s laughter echoed throughout the cabin.
“I like this boy.”
“He doesn’t overthink things.”
The following days passed quietly.
Ren and Morgan remained at the cabin while recovering from their exhausting journey.
In return…
They helped around the house.
Fetching water.
Gathering herbs.
Repairing fences.
Preparing firewood.
Although the old man rarely gave direct instructions…
He seemed to notice everything.
Whenever Ren held an axe incorrectly…
The old man would casually demonstrate the proper grip.
Whenever Morgan misidentified an herb…
He gently corrected her.
Neither child realized…
They were already being taught.
One afternoon…
The old man handed Ren a plain wooden staff.
“Hit me.”
Ren blinked. New chapters come out on g.com first.
“…What?”
“You heard me.”
“Come.”
“…Seriously?”
“Unless you’re afraid.”
Ren sighed.
“…I walked right into that one.”
Gripping the staff, he stepped forward.
His movements were careful.
Balanced.
Just as the village hunters had taught him.
He swung.
The old man casually tapped the staff aside using nothing but a walking stick.
“No.”
Again.
Ren attacked.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Every strike failed.
The old man barely moved.
Morgan watched with growing surprise.
“…He’s incredible…”
Finally…
Ren lowered the staff.
“…I couldn’t touch you even once.”
The old man nodded.
“Good.”
Ren blinked.
“…Good?”
“If you thought you could…”
“Then I’d have failed as your teacher.”
Teacher?
Ren looked at him.
The old man slowly stood.
His posture changed.
The gentle old woodsman disappeared.
Standing before Ren…
Was a warrior.
Even without releasing any magical energy…
His mere presence felt like an unshakable mountain.
“The sword.”
“The spear.”
“The fist.”
“They’re merely extensions.”
“The true weapon…”
He lightly tapped Ren’s chest.
“…is here.”
“Your mind.”
He then tapped Ren’s forehead.
“If this is weak…”
“No weapon can save you.”
Ren unconsciously straightened his posture.
“…Yes.”
The old man’s expression softened.
“Good.”
“From tomorrow onward…”
“I’ll teach you properly.”
Morgan tilted her head.
“…What about me?”
The old man smiled.
“Did you think I’d leave the older sister out?”
Morgan blinked.
“…Older sister?”
He chuckled.
“The boy calls you that.”
“It seems appropriate.”
A faint blush appeared on Morgan’s cheeks.
“…I suppose…”
“…it isn’t bad.”
The old man laughed once more.
Outside…
A raven silently landed upon the roof.
Watching.
Waiting.
Satisfied.
Deep within the old man’s hidden eye…
Ancient runes briefly shimmered before disappearing.
No one noticed.
Not even Ren.
The training that would shape the future hero who would one day walk beyond fate…
Had finally begun.
End of Chapter 9