“H—Harlan…” Thanduin called, voice ragged with exhaustion.
Harlan returned to him, his cold expression softening with a trace of casual apology.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, tone carefree with a flippancy only a knight of his league could pull off.
“Looks like you rather nearly set yourself up as breakfast.”
“Ha.
Very funny.” Thanduin let out a weak, humorless laugh.
“Next time, I’m not turning up until someone else does.
I’d much rather deal with another human than anything remotely like that thing.”
Harlan turned toward the boy lying unconscious in the distance.
“What’s a kid doing here?
Is he alive?”
Thanduin followed his gaze, frowning slightly with a flicker of guilt he couldn’t quite explain.
“…Do you think someone like him could become a knight?”
Harlan walked through the thick air where the Rage presence still lingered, heavy, palpable, yet he remained unbothered.
He stopped in front of the body and nudged it with his foot, gentle enough not to send him rolling again, but firm enough to see if the boy could still feel anything.
Kisatsu’s white hair was matted with blood.
“Oi.
This isn’t the place for a nap,” he said frivolously, kneeling down and shaking Kisatsu by the shoulder.
“If you can hear me, wake up.” His gaze flicked to his surroundings, to the park that had been evacuated minutes ago.
The sirens of ambulance and fire trucks wailed through the streets, though they were heading to the impact zone rather than the place where the Partian had been.
“Any casualties?” he asked, hoisting Kisatsu over his shoulder with no attempt at gentleness.
“Just…
one,” Thanduin answered, though he no longer cared about certainty—not after all this.
“He stepped in when the creature took its first bite.
Saved my life.”
Harlan glanced at the boy, a hint of amusement flickering across his face.
“Right.
Then take him to a paramedic—we’ll have a word when he wakes up.” He paused, turning to him with quiet assessment.
“As for you…
I’m not sure whether this quest’s going to ascend you or not.”
“I don’t much care.” Thanduin huffed flatly.
“As long as I’m breathing, very little bothers me.”
Harlan turned to leave, the body bouncing from the motion, heavy on his shoulder and growing warmer, wetter.
He flicked an eye at the boy’s waist, marked by blood seeping through the red fabric of his coat.
Kisatsu had lost too much blood—too much for him to still be alive.
A full blow from a Partian deemed only a D-rank threat would’ve killed anyone.
Is he really this light?
Or has he just lost far too much blood?
he worried in thought, forehead crinkling.
He’s barely even breathing.
“Oi.
Is this kid actually alive?” he asked, glancing back.
“Bloody hell—his clothes are soaked.
It’s revolting.”
“H—He’s…” Thanduin trailed off, looking over at the boy as if he needed double-checking.
That’s right.
He took a direct hit from the Partian—that’s sure enough to kill him.
But…
why?
Why did you have to do that?
“P…
Paramedics should be here by any moment.” Thanduin’s voice quavered with uncertainty, the burning pain making him wince with each movement.
“If his heart’s still beating, we can save him.”
Harlan let out an exasperated huff.
Good grief.
He’s all squashed up—can someone like him even be saved?
He sighed, resignation strained in his breath.
Still…
I’m not going back to that green-headed shrink.
“And you—how long before you’re back on your feet?” he asked, turning to Thanduin.
“A few days.” Thanduin glanced down at his wounds, then back at Harlan.
“I’ll see to it.”
“Shall I carry you as well?” Harlan asked wryly, offering a hand; he looked ready do it despite the slyness marking his visage.
Thanduin couldn’t help a chuckle from escaping him, dry, even as it delivered another sharp sting through his body.
“No, there’s no need.
I can wait for a few minutes until they get here.”
“Next time, have someone who can seal at your side,” Harlan said, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder—a gesture that spoke of comradeship, almost brotherly in nature.
“Sucks to be a versatile type.”
Thanduin flinched from the gesture, but something in his words made the pain almost forgettable.
In that brief moment, his expression softened into a relieved, unrestrained smile—from the reassurance that he wasn’t alone, and never would be.
“Yeah, I know.
I can’t do much with my barriers on my own.” He paused, something in his chest coiling tight—but it was different from the pain constantly torturing him.
“But…
I want to carry on as a knight, even if it ends like this again.”
Harlan noticed the despondency in Thanduin’s eyes as he stared down distantly.
“Try to look a bit more cheerful—you’re alive,” Harlan nudged him again, gentler this time, voice uplifting, edged with firmness.
“Consider that your biggest achievement for today.”
“Achievement, huh?” Thanduin repeated softly, tone dry, bitter with shame.
He didn’t look up, the guilt in his gaze too heavy to lift.
When I nearly let a child die to protect me.
The air smelled of humiliation and regret, and Harlan felt it.
“Right, then.
I’d best be off—before another parent loses a child,” he said—he’d already said enough.
Before leaving, he gave him one last glance.
“Don’t pass out now, Thanduin.
Not on the rubble.”
The words landed with quiet finality, and before they could register, he was no longer there, leaving only a silent reminder.
The barriers began to dissipate like flames fading into embers, the grey sky looming, bleak, watchful.
Across the park, the horde fluttered with foreboding.
The area was lined with protective barricades, heavily guarded by F-rank knights.
Paramedics tended some survivors from where the aircraft had fallen, though their main effort was calming the people down.
“He’s a white-haired boy.
Please, you have to find him,” Anneliese pleaded with one of the knights, voice trembling with worry.
“Ma’am, we’ve already evacuated everyone from the park.
The child you’re looking for should still be somewhere nearby,” the knight replied calmly, trying to soothe her.
“If he hasn’t left the area—inside the barriers—then all we can do is hope the knight on site can keep him safe.”
Dalsdair stepped forward, deliberate.
“Can’t you send another knight to make sure the creature’s dealt with?” he snapped, gesturing toward the space across from them, blurred by smoke.
“This is the middle of the city—every knight in the area ought to be responding.” Find the original chapter at g.com.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we—lower-rank knights—are only authorised to patrol for anomalies and alert the Association when a threat emerg—”
“Then alert them again!
Is that not a serious enough threat for you?” Dalsdair barked, pointing at the scene with trembling arms.
“S-Sir, please—try to remain calm,” the knight mumbled, raising both palms in a placating gesture.
“Another knight has already been dispatched to the scene.”
“Look!” one of the citizens exclaimed, stepping closer.
“The barriers are coming down!”
Harlan landed light near a rescue truck, and the crowd recoiled, stumbling back in alarm.
“Harlan!” Another knight scurried toward him, breathless.
“How’s the scene?
Has the Partian been dealt with?”
“The emergency’s over,” Harlan said, bouncing the body gently on his shoulder.
“The Partian’s been recaptured.”
“Thank heavens.” The knight glanced at the body and frowned, stepping forward to offer a helping hand.
“The boy on your shoulder—is he a casualty?”
“He is, unless the paramedics get here quickly,” Harlan said firmly.
“Send them.
Straight away.” He set Kisatsu down with measured care, hands bedaubed with blood smeared across the boy’s side.
Dalsdair came over to check the commotion, then rushed toward Kisatsu the moment he recognized the frame.
“Kisatsu!” he called out, kneeling alongside Anneliese.
His hands shook frantically, hovering over Kisatsu’s body before meeting his cold skin—perhaps because of the frigid weather…
or something else.
Their voices sound distant, muffled.
Everything felt numb.
The hands meant to ground him were nothing but fleeting warmth, never quite settling deeply into Kisatsu.
He could feel the ground beneath him rattle when the paramedics arrived, a stretcher now set beside him, waiting.
“Are you still taking him to a hospital?” Harlan’s voice cut through the babel.
“He won’t make it, trust me.” He walked over with surgical calm.
“He’s lost far too much blood—he ought to have died before I even got here.”
“W-What happened?” Anneliese asked, voice quivering like a glass on the verge of breaking.
“Found him unconscious on the scene.
No bite marks, no mutilation—but in that state, I don’t expect he’ll survive.”
Her breath hitched, palms now pressed to her mouth, eyes wide with distress.
“N-No…
that can’t be…”
“I know of a surgeon who might save him, but she’s across the country at the moment,” Harlan said flatly, turning away.
I don’t want to see her again anyway, he thought, a trace of dry amusement passing across his countenance.
Before he could turn away, confused murmurs washed over them.
He looked back, irritation now tugging at his features, and came over to check.
“What’s all the commotion?” he snapped.
“There’s nothing here.
No injuries whatsoever,” one of the paramedics blurted, gesturing to the area that should’ve been covered in blood, where organs should’ve been leaking, ifHarlan had been right.
Anneliese and Dalsdair couldn’t understand what was happening.
All they wanted to hear was Kisatsu was alive and only unconscious, everything else marginal.
Do you think someone like him could become a knight?
Thanduin’s words echoed through Harlan’s mind, striking him with a weight he had never expected.
That was when it hit him—the scene held two monsters all along.