Seeing the ring of armored knights slowly surrounding around the small wooden house, Robert knew it was only a matter of time before they would find the child.
Their armor shone like judgmental eyes in the morning. The clink of metal, the low mutters of men preparing for violence—it was a sound he knew all too well as a previous soldier for the king.
But he would not allow his friend's sacrifice to be in vain. No, not after losing both of them yesterday.
He turned to Marissa who stood tensely by the cradle. Her hands clenched into fists while her eyes wide with worry. The baby looked at the two of them oblivious to the danger brewing like a storm outside.
"Stay here with the baby," Robert said gently. "I'll try to talk to them first. But if I fail to negotiate, then prepare to run."
Marissa nodded despite her face was pale with fear. She bit her lip and held back tears. She looked at the magic wand in her waist and thought deeply as she looked at her friend's figure leave the room.
The moment Robert stepped outside and revealed himself, the knights surrounding the house instantly tensed.
The man that walked out may look like just a regular man in his mid fifties but their instinct told them that he is not just any 'ordinary' man.
Without hesitation, several unsheathed their swords with a metallic clang, each blade gleaming with enchantments etched by royal mages from the capital. These men were no ordinary soldiers—they were elite knights, chosen for their unwavering loyalty to King Aurelus and backed by deadly skill.
Robert raised his hands slowly, trying to keep his voice steady and present himself as harmless as possible despite the loud beats in his chest.
"May I help you, gentlemen?"
He scanned their formation and was impressed in his mind. Their discipline was impeccable, their armor pristine, their weapons sharp—not just in form, but in presence. Fighting them would not be a simple scuffle. It would be suicide.
Despite being a herbalist by class, Robert was far from helpless.
Years of traveling through dangerous wilds in search of rare herbs had hardened him. He'd survived the fangs of Shadow Lynxes, he fought against Night Crawlers, and even held his own in the occasional brawl against bandits. He knew how to handle a sword— at least well enough to defend himself, and sometimes, good enough to win.
But this? This wasn't a random skirmish in the forest. This was twenty trained knights, armed with enchanted blades and royal authority. And inside the house… was a child whose life meant more than his own right now - that child holds the future of this kingdom. At least that's what he hopes.
Just when he hoped for a calm negotiation, a familiar voice cut through the air which made him furrow his brows.
"Well oh well, what do we have here? It's Mr. Robert the Potion Master!" The voice boomed with mockery. "I never thought I'd see your outdated ass in a place like this."
Robert's stomach sank.
Vandolph.
The commanding knight stepped forward on horseback. He sat tall in the saddle and was grinning with wide pride in his gaze towards Robert. The years had added muscle to his frame and polish to his armor, but the arrogant gleam in his eyes hadn't changed a bit.
Robert stared him down, keeping his expression blank, though his heart tightened.
Vandolph had been a thorn in his side since their training days in the capital. Born to a wealthy merchant family, Vandolph was the first in his bloodline to receive a Knight class—a rare and envied gift. Because of this, he grew up spoiled, prideful, and brutish. He took great pleasure in tormenting those with support roles, especially non-combatants like Robert.
But Robert wasn't like the others. He'd stood up to Vandolph. They'd fought—fist to fist, word for word—and more than once, Robert had walked away the winner. Vandolph never forgot it and from his countless defeat - a seed for vengeance was planted.
Now, after a decade apart, Vandolph clearly relished the chance to assert dominance, especially in front of his men.
Dismounting with exaggerated flair, Vandolph strutted toward Robert, sword glinting at his hip. "It's been what—ten years? You still smell like otota."
Otota is a name of a rare herb that is good for healing but has an extremely foul smell that resembled that of human feces.
Robert raised an eyebrow. "And I see your ego is still as big as your head."
The insult landed. A few of the knights chuckled under their breath.
Vandolph's eyes narrowed. He moved closer before unsheathing his sword with a swiftness and pointing it at Robert's chest.
"You should be careful how you speak to a commander, peasant. I could have you arrested for disrespecting an officer of the kingdom."
Robert didn't flinch. The tip of the blade hovered inches from his heart, but he held his ground. He'd faced worse than Vandolph's bark—and if necessary, he could handle the bite.
Vandolph sneered, sensing his men's amusement. He hated being mocked—especially by the one man who'd never bowed to him - but who knows? Maybe this is the day he would?
"I like how you remain as stubborn as usual. I'll give you a chance," Vandolph said. He turned, yanked a second sword from one of his men and calmly tossed it at Robert's feet with a clatter.
"What do you say we settle this the old way. Win in a duel, and maybe I'll spare your pathetic little house and maybe even the whatever-creature hiding inside."
Robert looked down at the blade. His eyes lingered, not with fear, but with calculation. Vandolph may be clad in full knight's armor and he had nothing but a thin cloths not even good enough to block the cold wind.
Robert knew himself too well that he can win against the arrogant knight but considering the situation - he judged that today is not a good time to show off his strength.
"I refuse," he said, turning his back from the sword below, "I don't want to harm a soldier of the king."
"You dare turn your back on me!?"
Vandolph exploded with fury. He lunged without warning, slashing toward Robert's back.
But Robert was ready.
He sensed the bloodlust the moment it exploded from the commander.
With a swift roll to the left, he evaded the attack, snatched the sword off the ground with his foot, and caught it in midair. The crowd gasped as he parried Vandolph's follow-up strike on time with flawless precision.
Their blades clashed in a rapid of sparks. Vandolph waved his sword with madness and fury while Robert stood his ground like a flexible tree against the furious wind.
Vandolph came at him again and again—cross chops, thrusts, hammering strikes. Robert moved with a dancer's grace, blocking and dodging, never attacking, only defending. He didn't want to escalate this, but he wasn't going to just watch and die either.
The knights watched in stunned silence. They'd heard tales of Robert's courage, of his travels, of his strength and of course of his job despite being a herbalist.
But seeing him in action—disheveled, unarmored, wielding a borrowed blade with the poise of a master—was something else entirely.
"You… insufferable… HERBALIST!" Vandolph roared between swings.
Robert caught his blade, twisted, and landed a clean kick to Vandolph's chest. The commander flew backward, crashing through a wooden fence and landing in a cloud of dust.
"You've improved," Robert said coolly, lowering his sword. "But let's be honest. You wouldn't last a minute against a Night Hunter."
That hit a nerve.
Vandolph's face twisted in rage. "Oh really?" he sneered. "Then block this—HERBALIST!"
[WAR CHARGE]
A surge of red energy exploded around Vandolph. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he launched forward, a blur of power and speed. His sword aimed directly at Robert's heart—this time, with deadly intent.
But Robert had faced berserkers before. He sidestepped with effortless grace, blocked with his knee, and spun—redirecting Vandolph mid-air.
The commander flipped, arms flailing, and landed head-first in a pile of horse dung near the entrance of the house.
The silence lasted two seconds.
Then—
BWHAHAHAHAHA!
The knights erupted into laughter. Some clutched their sides. Others bent over in gasps. Vandolph staggered to his feet, covered in smelly horse poop from shoulder to chin, looking like a demon that crawled out of a sewer - some stringy grass pieces still hanging by his ears.
"YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, ROBEEERTHA!"
His voice cracked with absolute madness while horse shit flowed out of his widened nostrill. He pointed his sword toward the herbalist and screamed, "Soldiers! Listen to my order!"
The knights straightened instantly but their face still about to laugh.
"KILL. THAT. MAN."
The laughter died.
Though they'd been entertained, none of them dared defy an order—especially from a commanding knight. Promotion, honor, duty—those were stronger than curiosity. Their commander might be a sore loser but he is still, after all, their commander.
Robert tightened his grip on the sword. Twenty knights were advancing from every side. Steel rang as blades were drawn - each clang made him more serious. Now that the order for his extermination is given - it seems like his life would never be the same again.
Robert took a deep breath. He just wanted to leave a peaceful life in this remote village, making potions to help the people and maybe someday- get enough courage to court Marissa?
He looked at the passing clouds and saw the beautiful blue sky filled with white clouds are now slowly being pushed away by darker ones. It was not a good omen.
He glanced over his shoulder at the house. Marissa and the baby were still inside quietly watching him from the tiny holes of the window.
"This is ridiculous," he muttered. "Really? All this for a baby?"
Vandolph grinned, still wiping manure from his cheek. "You are wrong. This is not just about the baby. Its about you being a sore in my eyes! You should have mind your business better against me!"
He then looked at his man and shouted.
"What are you waiting for!? Get his head, promotion is yours. NOW GO!"
The knights charged with eyes glowing with determination.
Then, just as they reached striking distance—
A woman's voice rang out from inside the house.
"Don't move, Robert!"
[WHIRLWIND]