They walked in silence.
The road stretched ahead, uneven and quiet, surrounded by dry land and scattered trees. The wind moved gently through the grass, carrying the faint scent of earth.
Aerin walked a few steps behind.
After a while, he spoke.
"…I appreciate it," he said. "But you didn't need to stay."
Klein didn't look back.
"I did," he replied calmly.
Aerin frowned slightly.
"I'm doing this for my conscience," Klein continued. "I wasn't there when your village needed me."
A brief pause.
"The least I can do is make sure you don't get yourself killed."
Aerin's gaze hardened, but he said nothing.
Klein stopped walking and turned to face him.
"As of now," he said, his tone shifting slightly, "I'm your master."
Aerin blinked.
"That's what you'll call me."
Before Aerin could respond, Klein moved past him and sat down beneath a tree, resting his back against it.
"Now," he added casually, closing his eyes, "get us breakfast."
Aerin stood there for a moment, confused.
"…What?"
Klein didn't open his eyes.
"You heard me."
Silence.
Aerin exhaled quietly, then turned and walked off.
Time passed.
The forest grew quieter as Aerin moved through it, eyes scanning, body tense.
He wasn't used to hunting.
But he adapted.
Slowly.
Carefully.
By the time he returned, he carried what he could manage.
It wasn't much.
But it was enough.
Klein opened his eyes as Aerin approached.
"Not bad," he said.
Aerin said nothing.
They prepared the food in silence
The fire crackled softly as they ate.
When they finished, Aerin stood.
Without hesitation, he picked up a sword.
He stepped away from the tree.
Raised it.
And began to swing.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Each movement was rough.
Unrefined.
Driven by force rather than control.
Klein watched him for a moment.
Then closed his eyes again.
"Stop."
Aerin didn't.
The blade cut through the air once more.
"You're wasting your energy," Klein said.
Still—
Aerin continued.
Klein exhaled.
"You're angry," he said. "I understand that."
No response.
"But swinging like that won't make you stronger."
The strikes grew faster.
Heavier.
"It'll just break you faster."
Aerin stopped.
For a moment.
His grip tightened.
Then—
He swung again.
Klein opened his eyes.
"…Stubborn."
He shifted slightly, resting his head back against the tree.
"Fine," he said. "Wear yourself out."
The sound of the blade cutting through air continued.
Over and over.
Relentless.
Klein closed his eyes again.
But he wasn't asleep.
He listened.
To the rhythm.
To the force behind each strike.
To the anger driving it.
And beneath it—
Something else.
Something wrong.
Something he couldn't yet explain.
Aerin kept swinging.
Until his arms trembled.
Until his breath grew uneven.
Until exhaustion began to catch up with him.
Still—
He did not stop.