The forest edge felt colder than it should've. Ray stopped a few steps away from Kael, Kiba sitting beside him, tail slowly sweeping the ground.
Kael didn't start right away. He stood there, breathing like the trees were judging him.
"Ray…" Kael said finally. "There's something about this world you don't understand yet."
Ray frowned. "Is this about the training? You ending it early?"
"In a way." Kael looked at him and Ray felt the hairs on his arms stand. "You've trained hard. You're strong. You push yourself more than anyone."
Ray waited, tense.
"But fighting isn't about strength," Kael continued. "It's about crossing a line."
Ray tilted his head slightly. "What line?"
Kael's gaze dropped to the ground.
"line is pretty simple kill or be killed."
Ray's breath caught. His chest tightened. Kill? People?
His instincts screamed.
You don't just say that to a kid.
You don't normalize it.
You don't train someone to accept murder.
But Kael didn't stop.
"This world isn't gentle," he said softly. "Things out there kill without hesitation. Bandits, beasts, even other people. And when that moment comes, Ray… you either do it, or you die."
Ray's throat felt dry.
In his past life, killing was something done in stories, movies, headlines. A tragedy. A crime. A last resort. Not a casual topic between father and son.
But here?
Kael spoke like it was… inevitable.
"Dad," Ray whispered. "I don't… I don't want to kill anyone."
Kael shut his eyes for a moment, the expression on his face pained.
"I know. That's what scares me the most."
Ray blinked hard.
That wasn't the answer he expected.
Not brute encouragement. Not pressure.
Fear. His father was afraid for him.
"In this world," Kael continued, "to protect yourself, your home, the people you love… sometimes you have to make choices you never wanted to make."
Ray's stomach twisted. His modern morality clawed at him — Violence is wrong. Taking a life is wrong. There's always another way.
But he wasn't home anymore. There were no laws, no police, no social order to fall back on.
Just him.
Him and whatever danger found him first.
"Dad," Ray said quietly, "why are you telling me this now?"
Kael hesitated.
Just a moment — but enough to make Ray tense.
"Because," Kael said, eyes flicking toward Kiba, "you care too easily. Too deeply. And this world… doesn't reward that."
Ray felt something cold settle in his chest.
His hand instinctively dropped to Kiba's head.
Kiba wagged his tail, clueless.
Kael saw that gesture.
And something in his expression cracked.
"Ray… you have a good heart," Kael whispered. "Better than mine. Better than most people in this world. But that heart… it can also break you."
Ray swallowed hard.
He didn't know what to say.
Didn't know how to breathe right now.
He just knew this:
Kael wasn't telling him to kill.
He was telling him that someday, life might corner him until there was no choice.
Ray felt horror crawl up his spine.
Because deep down, he knew Kael wasn't wrong.
People talked about monsters, beasts, bandits. They made killing sound clean, dramatic, heroic.
Kael just shook his head.
"But killing someone—anyone—changes you. Some men freeze when the moment comes. Some break. Some… never recover."
His gaze drifted toward the house.
Toward memories Ray couldn't see.
Couldn't even guess at.
"And nobles," Kael continued, bitterness carving into his voice, "they found a way to make killing easier for their children. They use criminals—tie them up, toss them in pits, force their heirs to kill them. So their precious sons can grow up without guilt."
Ray felt something curdle in his stomach.
"That's… that's horrible."
"Yes," Kael said quietly. "It is."
Silence sat between them. Heavy. Choking.
Ray swallowed. "So what about normal soldiers? What do they do?"
Kael looked at Kiba.
Not just looked — stared.
Ray's heart lurched. He instinctively stepped in front of the wolf pup, hand dropping protectively to its fur.
"Dad?"
"That's the truth I needed to tell you," Kael said. His voice didn't rise… but it broke. "When a trainee isn't noble—when they have no criminals to dispose of—the army does something else."
Ray's breathing hitched.
He already knew he wouldn't like this.
"They make the trainee raise an animal from birth," Kael said, each word landing like a stone, "feed it, care for it, bond with it… and when the time comes—"
Ray shook his head violently.
"Don't. Dad, don't say it."
Kael's whisper felt like a blade sliding into the world.
"They're ordered to kill the creature they raised."
Everything inside Ray stopped.
And then—
His thoughts came crashing down all at once.
Of course.
Of course Kael raised him like this.
The endless drills, the harsh lessons, the way Kael's friends looked at him like he was something fragile, something borrowed.
Ray's chest tightened painfully.
Kael's friends—
They always ruffled his hair, laughed a little too loudly, watched him with a kind of pity hidden behind their grin.
He remembered one of them kneeling beside him after a brutal sparring session, muttering:
"Kid's got a soft heart… damn shame."
At the time, Ray thought it was cute.
Now?
Now he felt stupid.
A fool.
He remembered the day Kael brought Kiba home — out of nowhere, no explanation, just a warm little furball pressed into Ray's arms. Ray thought it was a gift. A celebration. A father trying to make him happy.
But standing here now, the forest around him too still, too quiet—
He understood.
He should have known.
The way Kael watched them play.
The way Kael stiffened every time Ray hugged the pup.
The way Kael's eyes softened… then hardened… then softened again.
It was all there.
Ray just refused to see it.
His throat tightened until breathing hurt.
Kiba nudged his leg, tail wagging, completely unaware of the nightmare coiling around them.
Ray pressed a hand to the kiba's head, trembling.