The air smelled of rot and fermented fruit.
The ground shuddered beneath him, moist, elastic, as if it too had a life of its own.
His eyes opened slowly as he lay on his stomach, hands behind him, chained with a familiar weight.
The walls groaned with a reverberating wet noise that made his damp skin crawl.
This wasn’t the hospital.
It felt as though he were inside the belly of a vast creature that had devoured him whole.
“Ah.
Good.
You’re not dead after all.” The voice cut through the quiet.
Before him sat Harlan, staring down at Kisatsu and waiting in silence, gaze edged with analytical sharpness.
Kisatsu looked up at him, then around.
“W-Where am I?” he asked, head flicking as he scanned the ceiling.
“What is this place?”
“You’re inside my own dimension,” Harlan said.
“You’re not in danger.”
Kisatsu turned back to him, brows furrowed in caution.
“Y-Your dimension?
Are you a knight?”
Harlan snorted dryly.
“What else would I be?
Did you imagine knights still wandering about in armour and helmets?” He straightened, hands cupping both knees.
“But never mind that.
Let’s talk about what you did back there.”
Kisatsu squeezed his eyes shut, trying to recall what had happened before he lost consciousness.
As everything clicked into place, his eyes snapped open, gaze darting up to Harlan’s face.
“I…
I stood up and tried to protect the other knight.” A beat, his breath hitching at a sudden realization.
“Wait—did he make it?
And the Partian…
is it dead?”
“You needn’t worry about that,” Harlan replied, voice calm, steady.
“I’ve already taken care of everything.” He rose, towering over him for a moment, then crouched to his level.
“What you should worry about is how you’re still alive.” His eyes narrowed sharply as suspicion crept in.
“How can someone like you who isn’t a knight be able to regenerate like that, and while unconscious, no less?”
“H-Huh?
Regenerate?” Kisatsu looked down at where his wounds should’ve been, then noticed the shackles on his wrists.
His gaze snapped back toward Harlan once more.
“Wait—why am I in chains?
Have I done something wrong?”
“Do you remember being injured by the Partian?” Harlan asked, eyes glowing a soft emerald.
“Uhm…
not exactly.” Kisatsu’s gaze lowered to the ground, forehead creasing as he searched his memory.
His mind was still foggy, as the unfamiliar dimension hadn’t fully registered yet.
“The last thing I remember is it coming close—then I blacked out.”
Did I lose consciousness from fear?
he thought.
“Do you feel any pain at all?”
Kisatsu glanced back up at him.
“…No.
I feel…
fine.”
So he isn’t aware.
You’re telling me he went that far to protect Thanduin, fully knowing it would get him killed?
Harlan frowned, bemused as he studied the boy with an incredulous stare.
He couldn’t forget how crushed Kisatsu’s body had felt when he’d slung him over his shoulder.
“Is this a dream?” Kisatsu asked blankly.
“Have I not woken up yet?
Or am I, in fact, dead?”
“No, no.
This is real, and you’re very much alive,” Harlan replied, straightening once more.
“That said, I’d like to ask you a favour.”
“A-A favor?
I’m not really capable, but…
I’ll try my best.”
“Become a knight,” he said, voice laced with firm finality.
The words hit Kisatsu before he could even react.
It was the first time he’d ever heard it from someone who didn’t mean it as a childish dream—or an absurd goal a child would never truly be allowed to want.
But this time, it was spoken in a solemn, dignified manner—as if someone actually wanted him to.
“A knight—yes.” The answer rolled out of his mouth before he could think.
“I want to become a knight.
Please, where do I sta—”
“Not quite finished,” Harlan interrupted, voice stern but not harsh.
“I want you to join the Camesarian Guild.
They’ll definitely place you in their Reco team.
From there, you’ll be given a proper, structured regimen to turn you into one of us.”
Though, their training might kill you straight off, he mused, a doubtful look crossing his face.
“The Camesarian Guild…?” Kisatsu repeated, the name unfamiliar.
He’d never heard of any guild before.
His mind had only cared about wanting to become a knight, everything else insignificant.
“You wouldn’t be alone there.
I’m from the Guild, and so is the knight you tried to save.
I am Harlan Broome, and the fellow from earlier—you can just call him Thanduin,” Harlan said, gesturing with his thumb.
He leaned closer, though not quite kneeling, the edge of his red coat lightly scraping the ground.
“Tell me, why did you protect Thanduin?”
“I-Isn’t it the right thing to do?” Kisatsu answered, though the words weighed with uncertainty on his tongue.
“That’s not what I’m asking.
I mean why, even while knowing you were powerless, did you still step in?” Harlan said, voice even.
“Courage aside, you’re a child.
You were nearly getting yourself killed.”
He was right.
Anyone would’ve thought the same: a powerless person stepping in to protect someone must be out of their mind, no matter how courageous—especially a child.
Kisatsu stared ahead in silence, then turned back to him.
“I don’t know exactly.” His voice wavered with hesitation, though he didn’t blame himself for it.
“I froze when he was being eaten right in front of me.
At that moment, I didn’t know what else to do.”
Fortune favors the bold.
The graffiti before—small, but standing out the most—resurfaced in his mind, drawing a faint, hopeful smile on his face.
“…If I’m not powerful, then I can at least be bold enough to try and protect someone.” His violet eyes now burned with a newfound determination.
“Isn’t that what knights are?
Even when there’s no hope, they still try to be heroic?”
His words didn’t reach Harlan—or if they did, they didn’t land.
Harlan stared down at Kisatsu, expression flat, unreadable.
Reality hadn’t struck him yet—that much was clear.
Knights weren’t supposed to be heroic.
There wore more to it than that.
But the words still carried weight—something Harlan had absorbed, something he could return to…
or use to change himself.
He set himself upright, shoulders squared, then turned his back to Kisatsu.
“I see,” he said, voice void of inflection.
“I hope you manage to hold on to that optimism.” He glanced over his shoulder without turning fully.
“What’s your name?”
“Kisatsu A—” Kisatsu cut himself off before the words could continue—he’d almost given himself away.
He looked down, silently cursing himself for nearly spilling his last name, then looked back up, expression composed.
“It’s Kisatsu Vurgemond.”
“Kisatsu, is it?” Harlan repeated, testing the name’s sound, even though it had a sharp edge to it.
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
“…I live in the heartland.
This is my first time visiting Hamburn City.”
“Not exactly the warm welcome you were hoping for, hm?” he quipped, a sly smile tugging at his lips.
“Well, I expect we’ll meet again.
Next time, in Nuallis City.”
Even though it hadn’t fully sunk into Kisatsu’s mind, the flesh-like walls began to tear as Harlan vanished soundlessly, dissolving into the dark void.
The darkness swallowed him, and suddenly he was lying on a medical bed, body facing upward, the dampness gone.
He didn’t understand any of it, staring up at the ceiling, eyes dazed with pure perplexity.
Then he sat up, checking his wrists where the shackles had been.
The ache still lingered in his body—he’d pushed himself too hard in the dimension.
“Nuallis City…” he murmured, etching the place into his mind.
The smile remained on his lips as he stared at his hands, a giddy laugh escaping him, sounding almost delirious.
He was becoming a knight—someone had told him to.
A female nurse passed by the observation window and noticed him sitting up on the bed.
She turned to Anneliese, who stood behind her carrying a basket of fresh strawberries for Kisatsu, and the door opened quickly as they hurried inside.
“Kisatsu!” she exclaimed, setting the basket down before pulling him into a gentle, relieved embrace.
She pulled back just enough to look at his face, eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“How are you feeling?
How long have you been awake?”
“I-I just woke up a minute ago.”
“Good heavens, you gave us such a fright!
You were clearly beside yourself back there, weren’t you?” Her voice firmed, though it stayed gentle.
“I’m sorry,” he cooed.
“I was just…
trying to protect the knight.”
“Oh, my dear—you were in no shape to protect anyone.” Her forehead wrinkled gently.
“You could easily have been killed.” She drew him close once more, making sure he was real in her arms, alive.
“But I’m very glad you survived.”
She pulled back again, then looking down where his wounds should’ve been, then back at his face.
“The doctors say you’re unharmed, but I’m not entirely convinced.” Her voice wove through the room with lingering concern.
“Are you feeling any pain?
Any injuries you might not have noticed?”
“It’s okay, I’m alright,” he said, motioning with his hands as he lifted his arms.
“I feel fine—no bruises or anything.
Just a little dizzy from sleeping so long.” His gaze returned to her.
“He’s still speaking with Mr.
Vasthorpe in the waiting room.
He’ll be along shortly.”
“Vasthorpe?” he repeated, trying to place the name.
“The knight you tried to save—surely you remember?”
“Ah—Thanduin,” he said.
And the knight from this morning was Harlan.
He stared at the bed, recalling the man’s blonde hair and red coat.
“He suggested you might become a knight himself—and even offered to bring you into their guild,” she said, a faint, warm smile blooming on her lips.
“That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?
He seemed quite keen for you to enlist.”
Friendly…?
The description seemed odd.
He couldn’t forget how Thanduin had spoken differently to him before the Partian reached them.
Still, that hadn’t stopped Kisatsu from wanting to save him.
Dalsdair stepped inside the room, gaze flitting to Kisatsu.
The sight of him now conscious immediately stripped the tension from his shoulders.
“O—Oh.
Well, then…
you’re awake, lad,” he said softly, walking over and gripping Kisatsu’s shoulders gently before pulling him into a firm, grounding embrace.
It was the first time he’d seen him awake since leaving him in the park.
“I’ve spoken with Sir Thanduin.” His voice came uneven.
“You’re…
finally going to become a knight.”
It was one step closer to finding Kisatsu’s older brother—yet, he’d nearly lost his life just for that single step.
A small, wistful smile touched his face
“Nuallis City, isn’t it?
That’s excellent,” Dalsdair remarked, stepping back, a warm smile on his face.
“Right on the edge of the Armeman Region—it won’t take long to reach, especially by train.”
“How often will I get to see you again?” Kisatsu asked.
“Anneliese and I will visit from time to time.
She knows the city well—she was born there,” Dalsdair replied, glancing at Anneliese, then back at him.
“You’ll find the place full of stunning broads.
That’s where I met your aunt, after all.” He breathed out a teasing laugh.
“Oh, my.
Your uncle simply couldn’t resist wandering about in search of such things.
Do forgive him, won’t you?” she quipped, brow raised as she chuckled softly at his shameless pride.
“Don’t fret, ‘Satsu.
You can always write to us—tell us how you’re getting on.
We’ll write back straight away.” He paused, giving her a cheeky sidelong glance, then looked back at Kisatsu.
“And if you happen to meet a nice young lady you care for, you’re more than welcome to bring her home.
We’d be delighted to meet her.”
“Oh, honestly—don’t encourage him,” she chided affectionately, turning to Kisatsu.
“Pay no attention to your uncle.
Focus on your training—and on the friends you’ll make along the way.
That would make me far happier.” She gave Dalsdair a gentle pinch at the side.
“And for the record—unlike what he says—women prefer consistency over rushing things,” she added, voice growing stern but still warm.
Kisatsu giggled at their soft banter, the sound sketching a somber but hopeful expression onto her face.
“But Kisatsu—promise us one thing,” she continued, voice quieter now.
“Come back alive.
Your rank won’t matter to us.
We want nothing more than for you to be safe and well.” She pulled him close once more, and Dalsdair wrapped his arms around them too—the gesture almost indistinguishable from that of a real family.
“If you need anything while you’re away, we’ll be here.
Always.
Anytime,” she murmured, pulling back to meet Kisatsu’s gaze, tears welling in her eyes.
“Until you find your brother…
just promise us to stay alive.
That’s non-negotiable.”
“Yes.
M…
Aunt.” He stopped before he could say it—before he could call her Mom.
Her embrace tightened gently as she leaned in, holding the back of his head with her hand.
“It’s alright,” she whispered.
Dalsdair couldn’t help the giggle that escaped, and Anneliese shot him a fondly stern glare.
“I will, Auntie, Uncle,” Kisatsu said, voice filled with unwavering resolve.
“I’ll survive—no matter what happens.”
I’ve escaped death twice now.
The world has given me another chance to move forward.
If I lose it again…
I don’t think I could ever forgive myself.
I have no excuse to remain weak—not after promising to save someone.
His mind expanded, taking in Thanduin—and the people who would be around him in the future.
He closed his eyes, the white background fading into darkness, his thoughts focused on one person—someone whose back was turned to him, whose face he was beginning to forget.
Yes.
Just him.
I’m still not strong enough…
to save everyone.