In the Night
The night stretched endlessly above, the stars barely enough to light the world around me. My body was drenched in sweat. My breaths came in ragged gasps. The rough wooden sword in my grip felt like it weighed a ton.
Grandpa stood across from me, his emerald eyes sharp, unwavering. He didn't even look tired.
"Come on, Kibo. Is this how you're going to face me?"
I clenched my jaw. My arms shook, but I tightened my grip. I can do this. I won't lose this time.
I surged forward. The world blurred as I poured what little mana I had left into my legs. Faster—stronger—I had to hit him.
I aimed for his leg. Just as my sword was about to connect—
Thud.
His foot pinned it to the ground.
Before I could react—wham!—his leg swung toward my ribs.
I see it. My heart pounded. No time to think. I dropped the sword and threw myself back, rolling across the dirt. My skin burned from the scrape, but I didn't care. I had dodged it. I—
My chest tightened. Grandpa was already over me, my own sword pressed to my heart.
"You'd be dead if this were real." His voice wasn't angry. Just… disappointed. "In war—or against a real opponent—there are no second chances."
I stared up at the sky, my breath coming fast, my body screaming in pain. But the ache in my chest wasn't from the fight.
I'm still not good enough.
"Hmph…" Grandpa sighed. "Get up. Let's get you some experience points."
My stomach dropped. Experience points? This old man's trying to kill me.
But I knew better than to argue. Grandpa's training was hell, but it had a purpose. He turned, already walking away. "I'll get the bow and arrow."
I exhaled slowly as he disappeared into the cottage. My heart still pounded. I touched my chest, feeling the rapid thud against my palm.
I looked up at the moon, breath still shaky. Is this the hardship I have to go through?
I replayed the fight in my head—his speed, his precision, the way he saw through every move I made.
My hands curled into fists.
I will beat you, Grandpa.
My body was barely holding itself together, but my spirit wouldn't break. With a groan, I pushed myself up, muscles screaming in protest.
Grandpa walked back, a small bow and arrow in his hand.
He stepped up to me, resting a warm hand on my head. "It's okay, Kibo. Let it all out."
I swallowed hard. Closed my eyes. Took a deep breath. And when I opened them—
"I'm ready."
Despite the pain. Despite the trembling in my legs.
Grandpa chuckled and handed me the bow. "Alright. Let's go."
He turned, leading the way deeper into the forest.
And I followed.
We walked deeper into the forest. The air grew heavier. The trees loomed taller. Each step felt harder to take. My body screamed at me to stop, but I couldn't. Grandpa walked ahead, steady as ever. Like the weight of the night meant nothing to him.
I wanted to be strong like that. But my legs—my tiny, exhausted legs—betrayed me.
I tripped.
The cold dirt rushed up to meet me. I hit the ground hard, my arms barely catching me. My vision swam. My head pounded.
Then, warmth.
Grandpa's hand pressed against my forehead. A cool wave of mana washed over me, easing the fire burning inside.
"Is the pain gone?" His voice was softer than usual. Not disappointed. Not frustrated. Just… concerned.
I swallowed, forcing myself to nod. "Yes, Grandpa."
He didn't say anything else. He just stood and started walking again.
"Come on. We're not far from the hellhounds."
His words sent a shiver through me. But I pushed myself up and followed.
The clearing was bathed in moonlight. And there, lying in the grass, was a hellhound wolf.
Its black fur was soaked with blood, its sides rising and falling in ragged breaths. Wounds covered its body. But even half-dead, its red eyes glowed. Sharp. Piercing. Alive.
"That's a hellhound wolf," Grandpa said.
I forced my dry throat to work. "Shouldn't it be with its pack?"
"When a hellhound is separated, it's either been cast out by the alpha… or it's too dangerous to keep around."
Something about that made my stomach twist.
"Now, take the shot."
I froze.
Grandpa assured me, guiding my hands. His grip was firm, steady. "Relax. Leave behind your fear. Let your mana guide the arrow. One shot."
One shot.
My fingers trembled. My arms felt weak. The bow felt heavier than before.
What if I missed? What if I messed up?
Grandpa must have noticed because he tapped my head lightly. "Don't think. Just do."
I sucked in a breath. Nodded. Drew the bow. Aimed.
Released.
The arrow shot through the air—
Thud.
It missed.
A centimeter. That's all.
The hellhound's head snapped up.
It locked onto me.
A low growl rumbled deep in its throat. Its muscles tensed. And then—
It lunged.
I couldn't move. I couldn't think. I couldn't even breathe.
Then suddenly—
I was yanked back.
Grandpa moved like a shadow. Fast. Precise. A dagger flashed in his hand.
One clean strike.
The hellhound's body collapsed.
Its head rolled to my feet.
And then—
I broke.
A scream ripped out of me before I could stop it. My legs buckled. My stomach twisted—
I vomited.
The world spun. I felt sick. The smell of blood filled my nose. The sight of that lifeless head—those red eyes staring right at me—
I couldn't do this.
Grandpa kicked the head away. And then suddenly, his arms were around me. Warm. Steady. Holding me close.
"It's okay, Kibo."
I clutched his cloak, my tiny fingers shaking. My body wouldn't stop trembling. The tears came, hot and fast.
I couldn't stop them.
I cried. I cried until my chest ached. Until exhaustion swallowed me whole.
When I woke, I was moving.
Grandpa was carrying me on his back. The forest was quieter now. The moon above us was bright and full. The hellhound's body dragged behind him, lifeless.
"You're awake," Grandpa said. He didn't turn his head, but somehow, he knew.
I gripped his cloak. My voice was small. Weak. "I'm sorry, Grandpa… for being weak."
He chuckled. A soft, warm sound. "Don't worry about it. You're just two years old, Kibo. It's okay to be scared sometimes."
My fingers tightened in his cloak. "Grandpa… have you ever been scared before?"
He was silent.
Then, for the first time, I felt it. The shift in his presence. The weight in his voice.
"Yes."
I swallowed. "What were you scared of?"
His footsteps didn't falter. But his voice did. Just for a moment.
Then—softly—"Get some rest, Kibo."
No answer. No explanation. Just that.
I didn't push. I just rested my head against his back, feeling the steady rhythm of his steps.
I still had so much to learn.
I'll do my best to be strong, Grandpa.
The forest faded into darkness. I let sleep take me.