Thereon was already on him, fluid as a flicker of wind. One step, and he was within striking distance.

  Thereon's hand lashed out—two fingers striking the side of the man's neck with pinpoint precision.

  The guard crumpled without a sound.

  Thereon exhaled, like the whole ordeal had been nothing more than a minor nuisance.

  "Just act normal," he said, adjusting his cloak.

  "There are more guards on the other side of the gate. If they think we passed through the proper way, we won't have to deal with any more trouble."

  With that, they passed through the other side of the gate without issue, their footsteps steady and unhurried as they followed the main road eastward toward the waiting forest.

  For a while, neither of them spoke. Only the soft crunch of gravel underfoot and the rustling of wind through distant trees filled the silence.

  After a few minutes, the outskirts of the forest came into view—tall, ancient trunks rising like pillars from the earth, their dense canopy beginning to swallow the fading evening light.

  The well-worn road cut straight through it, wide enough for carriages, connecting Vaelmont to the distant city of Azurheim.

  "How long will it take to reach Azurheim?" Albrecht asked, glancing toward the looming treeline.

  "About two weeks on foot," Thereon replied flatly.

  "But we're not going there."

  Albrecht blinked.

  "We're not?"

  "As far as I know, there's nothing else in the area," he said, thinking back to the maps he'd studied.

  "Except Branlow. And that's just a tiny village."

  "There you go." Thereon gave him a half-smirk.

  "That's where we're going. It's only a day's walk from here. We'll get horses and supplies there."

  "And then?"

  "I'll teach you the basics. You get one or two weeks for that. Preferably one. So try not to be slow about it."

  A little farther ahead, the road split. The main path continued east toward Azurheim, but a smaller trail veered off to the south—narrow, uneven, and definitely not made for carriages.

  Grass and roots broke through its surface in places, and the overhead branches made it feel more like a tunnel than a trail.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Thereon turned without hesitation, taking the southern path.

  Albrecht followed without hesitation, though the narrowing path and deepening shadows tugged at his nerves.

  "Are we walking all the way to Branlow tonight?" he asked, glancing up at the darkening sky between the trees.

  "You and all your questions. Just have a little faith in your teacher." Thereon muttered, half amused.

  Albrecht didn't reply—just kept staring at him in silence, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly. Not really out of curiosity, but more simply to annoy him.

  After a few seconds, Thereon sighed theatrically.

  "No, we won't travel at night. We'll make camp before it gets too dark to see anything."

  He shot Albrecht a sideways glance.

  "A fool like you would trip over a root. Or no… knowing your luck, you'd probably walk face-first into the next enemy. And then I'd have to save the little princess again."

  Thereon groaned dramatically.

  "Truly exhausting…" he added.

  'Ugh… I hope he gets eaten by a bear at night.'

  After traveling for another half an hour or so, Thereon finally came to a halt. Without saying a word, he turned and veered off the path, motioning for Albrecht to follow.

  They pushed through a thin patch of underbrush, the forest thick with the scent of pine and damp earth.

  A few more steps later, the trees opened up into a small clearing bathed in the last slivers of fading sunlight.

  To Albrecht, the clearing seemed slightly unusual, not that he had much outdoor survival experience. But its floor wasn't just dirt or grass but a patch of firm, packed gravel mixed with loose stone.

  The forest canopy overhead still held onto the day, but shadows were creeping in fast, stretching long and thin across the mossy ground.

  The hush of evening had settled fully into the woods—no birdsong, no rustling animals, just the faint whisper of wind through leaves.

  Thereon gave a short nod as if this was exactly the spot he'd been looking for.

  "Start gathering firewood. Only dry branches that are no thicker than your wrist," he said, his voice curt but not unkind.

  "Okay, but how are we going to sleep?" Albrecht asked.

  "Leave that to me. Just get the firewood, a lot of it. More than what you would need for a regular campfire." Thereon replied.

  Albrecht opened his mouth to question him again but thought better of it. He gave a small shrug and turned toward the trees, trudging off into the nearby underbrush.

  He made sure not to wander too far. Getting attacked by animals or even monsters would be bad, but Thereon making fun of him would definitely be worse, at least for Albrecht.

  After a while, Albrecht marched back toward the clearing, arms full with a comically large stack of branches piled high in both hands, nearly blocking his view. Twigs poked him in the face, and dry bark scratched at his arms, but he didn't slow down.

  He wanted to make Thereon happy.

  Obviously, not because he liked him—he told himself that more than once—but because a teacher in a good mood was a teacher more likely to answer questions.

  And Albrecht had a lot of questions.

  When Thereon saw him returning, arms full of branches, he gave a thumbs-up.

  "Good. Drop them here," he said, gesturing toward the gravel patch at the center of the clearing.

  Albrecht dropped the heavy bundle of branches onto the gravel with a grunt, rolling his shoulders as he straightened.

  His arms were sore, but he kept his face composed—he didn't want to give Thereon the satisfaction of seeing him worn out.

  There was also the small detail that he'd been cut open, smashed in the ribs, and nearly had his arm broken by a mace.

  Not to mention, earlier that same day, he'd swum through Vaelmont's canal, slammed into the stone wall, and got hit by a passing merchant ship.

  'Overall, definitely not a great day.'