Another day passed beneath the soft bells of Saint Elyss’s Rest, but for Alaric, time felt strangely suspended.

  He lay motionless in bed, staring at the wooden beams above him as sunlight crept slowly across the room. His body refused to obey him. Even the smallest movement sent sharp pain flaring through his back, a reminder carved deep into flesh and nerve.

  Elaine had forbidden him from leaving the bed.

  Not asked, Forbidden.

  She moved constantly between the rooms of the orphanage, tending to the younger children, preparing meals, offering prayers… and always returning to check on him. Even when exhaustion weighed heavily on her face, she never complained, never slowed. If anything, she hovered more than before, as if afraid that looking away for even a moment might cost her something irreparable.

  She’s traumatized too… and still she’s the one taking care of everyone.

  Alaric clenched his fingers weakly against the blanket.

  And I couldn’t even protect myself.

  That thought gnawed at him relentlessly.

  He had trained, studied, pushed his mana, his body, his mind. And yet, when death truly came for him, he had been helpless. One strike had been enough. One mistake, one misjudgment, and everything would have ended.

  If I can be brought down this easily… how am I supposed to protect anything? Anyone?

  Worse than the pain was the fear.

  Not of the Frostfang.

  Of him.

  The alter ego had not appeared again since that moment between life and death, but its presence lingered like a shadow just beyond the edge of his thoughts. Sometimes, in the quiet, he could almost hear its voice… calm, cruel, patient.

  You failed again.

  Alaric swallowed, forcing his breathing to remain steady.

  It’s still there… watching.

  Elaine’s healing magic had saved his life, sealing torn flesh, stabilizing ruptured vessels, preventing nerve damage that should have crippled him. But even divine light had limits. The wound itself remained, raw and deep, and until it healed naturally, he was confined to bed.

  Every throb of pain reminded him of his weakness.

  And then there was the other weight… heavier than any injury.

  He had killed something.

  The memory surfaced unbidden, sharp and vivid. The moment the wolf’s eyes burned under the blast of fire. The sound it made. The way its body collapsed, lifeless.

  I’ve never taken a life before…

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  His chest tightened.

  And now I can’t pretend I haven’t crossed that line.

  He didn’t regret saving Rin. He didn’t regret acting.

  But unease clung to him all the same.

  There’s no turning back now.

  ***

  In another room, Elaine sat across from Father Corwin, her hands wrapped tightly around a cup of untouched tea.

  Neither of them spoke for a long time.

  “I failed them,” Elaine said quietly at last.

  Corwin looked up. “You saved them.”

  “Not enough,” she replied, her voice strained. “If the knights hadn’t arrived… if Alaric hadn’t….” She stopped herself, fingers trembling. “I was supposed to protect them. That’s why I was chosen.”

  Corwin closed his eyes briefly. “We can’t guard them from everything.”

  “But we’re supposed to try.”

  Silence returned, heavier than before.

  “And the letter?” Elaine asked eventually.

  Corwin’s brow furrowed. “That’s what frightens me most. If I push him forward… if I recommend him…” He exhaled slowly. “The world beyond this chapel is cruel. The Knight Academy isn’t a path to glory. It’s a grinder.”

  “He’s only seven,” Elaine whispered.

  “Yes,” Corwin said softly. “And already the world is sharpening its teeth around him.”

  ***

  Kellan stood at Alaric’s bedside later that evening, posture rigid, hands clenched at his sides.

  “I should have been stronger,” he said. “If I was… you wouldn’t have needed to step in.”

  Alaric turned his head slightly to look at him. “You did what you could.”

  “That’s not enough,” Kellan replied. He bowed his head. “I swear… I won’t be that weak again. I’ll join the Knight Academy. No matter what it takes.”

  Alaric felt something warm stir in his chest. “Good,” he said quietly. “Because I want you there with me. Not behind me.”

  Kellan met his gaze, surprised… then nodded firmly.

  Rin came later, her usual grin nowhere to be seen.

  She stood awkwardly for a moment before speaking. “I froze. If you hadn’t pulled me away…”

  “You’re alive,” Alaric said. “That’s what matters.”

  She bit her lip. “I’ll get stronger. I’ll become a high-rank hunter. I’ll protect you from afar… like a guardian angel.”

  Despite everything, Alaric smiled faintly.

  Mira was the last.

  She didn’t speak at first. She simply cried.

  “I wasn’t there,” she sobbed. “Everyone suffered and I wasn’t there… I couldn’t do anything.”

  Alaric reached out weakly, resting his hand over hers. “You kept everyone calm when chaos hit. That matters more than you think.”

  Her crying softened, and she nodded, clinging to his words.

  When night fell, Alaric lay awake, staring at the ceiling once more.

  I can’t grow strong enough here.

  The realization was cold and absolute.

  Sooner or later, he would have to leave the safety of the chapel. Training alone would never be enough. Experience, danger, responsibility… those were unavoidable.

  He asked to see Father Corwin the next morning.

  “I want you to write the letter,” Alaric said plainly.

  Corwin studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly nodded.

  “I won’t stop you.”

  The Knight Academy… a place where only twenty-five percent graduated. Where most failed or broke. Where recommendation merely granted permission to compete.

  The church’s recommendation would mean even more testing, judgement and scrunity.

  And even then, only ten percent of those recommended would pass the Academy’s own selection.

  Still…

  If I don’t walk this road… I’ll never forgive myself.

  That evening, Father Corwin wrote the letter.

  And when it was sealed and sent toward the Regional head office of church in Larethin, Alaric felt something settle deep within him.

  A path chosen.

  Somewhere, unseen, something watched… and waited.