"Is that a child...?" One of the knights muttered.

The others followed his gaze.

High above them, standing dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, was a lone figure.

Small.

Far too small.

At first glance, he looked no older than ten years old.

The wind tossed his silver hair wildly around his face, yet he made no effort to move away from the cliff’s edge.

"Why is there a child here?" another soldier asked, frowning.

"Could he be lost?"

"No child should be wandering around the border alone."

The riders exchanged uneasy glances.

Something felt wrong.

The boy had not moved since they spotted him. He simply stood there, looking down at them.

Watching. Waiting. Waiting for something, or someone.

The soldiers instinctively tightened their grips around their weapons.

A strange chill crept down several of their spines.

Then the child tilted his head slightly.

A simple movement.

An innocent one.

Yet it somehow caused the entire group to fall silent.

For reasons none of them could explain, the boy’s presence felt unsettling.

Almost unnatural.

His eyes were blindfolded—he must have been injured during the war and lost his eyes.

Yet, it seemed like his eyes worked perfectly. As though he were studying them rather than the other way around.

The rider at the front narrowed his eyes.

"Who are you?" he shouted.

His voice echoed against the rocky cliffs.

The child did not answer. Only the knight’s voice could be heard.

Instead, a faint smile slowly appeared on the boy’s lips.

The man raised an eyebrow.

"Are you lost?" he asked, his voice louder this time, wondering whether the boy simply hadn’t heard him.

Still, the child remained silent.

Then, without warning, he stepped forward.

And jumped.

Several soldiers gasped.

"Watch out!"

"He’ll die!"

The cliff was far too high. No ordinary child could survive such a fall. At the very least, they were bound to break a bone or two.

Yet contrary to their expectations, the boy landed gracefully on both feet.

Not a single stumble.

Not a single sign of injury.

As light as a feather.

As agile as a cat.

The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances.

Something didn’t feel right.

Something felt wrong. Terribly wrong.

But what?

"Who are you?" one of them demanded again, his hand drifting toward the sword at his waist.

He had grown wary after seeing the boy land on his feet without a scratch. He couldn’t be an ordinary child. Mostly when he was standing on the side of Hianshu. He had to be an enemy sent by the Temple!

This time, the child moved slowly and deliberately. His fingers reached for the white cloth tied around his eyes.

The soldiers frowned, their gaze narrowing as they tried to comprehend his actions.

Then the boy pulled the blindfold away.

For a moment, nobody understood what they were seeing.

Blue pupils... Golden irises... Eyes unlike anything they had ever witnessed before.

An unnatural combination.

A terrifying one.

The battlefield fell silent.

"What kind of farce—" The soldier never finished his sentence.

His gaze locked onto the boy’s. A sudden gasp escaped his lips. His hands flew toward his throat. Tight. His chest squeezed painfully before he collapsed.

The sound of his body hitting the ground echoed through the valley.

"What happened?!" another soldier shouted.

Panic spread through the group.

Several men instinctively looked toward their fallen companion.

Unfortunately, their eyes landed on the child as well.

One after another, their gazes met his.

And one after another, they fell.

A horse cried out in alarm.

A sword slipped from someone’s hand.

Bodies struck the ground repeatedly. The soldiers could not even understand what was happening. Their breaths vanished. Their hearts stopped. Their lives were extinguished as swiftly as a candle beneath a storm.

The boy simply stood there.

Watching.

Silent.

Expressionless.

Within minutes, the field became eerily quiet.

No voices remained, nor any footsteps, nor any breathing. Only lifeless bodies scattered across the grass.

The wind continued to blow through the valley as though nothing had happened.

The child lowered his gaze toward the corpses.

Since the user is asking for edited story text, here’s a polished continuation that keeps your paragraph style and tone:

Then, without a trace of emotion, he pulled the blindfold back over his eyes and turned on his heels.

At the border, a man was already waiting for him, a pair of handcuffs and chains hanging from his hands. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

"You’ve done it quickly this time," he remarked softly, sounding almost surprised.

The boy offered no reply.

Instead, he extended both hands toward the man, allowing the shackles to be locked around his wrists once more. Soon, the familiar weight of chains settled against his skin, binding him exactly as he had been before leaving.

"Are you upset that High Priest XVII didn’t come?" the man asked while securing the restraints. "Don’t be like that. He had to meet with High Priest I regarding something important."

The boy frowned beneath the blindfold, though the expression remained hidden from sight.

The man immediately stiffened.

"Ah—right. We should leave."

Without another word, he hurried toward the carriage waiting nearby and pulled the door open.

"Get in. We need to return before it gets too late."

The boy remained silent and stepped inside.

The chains clinked softly with every movement he made, wrapping around not only his wrists but his ankles as well. Even sitting down proved difficult with the amount of restraints attached to his small body.

Once the carriage began moving, neither of them spoke.

The boy rested his head against the wooden wall and listened to the rattling wheels.

He knew where they were taking him.

Back to the Temple.

Back to the endless white halls.

Back to the priests who watched him as though he were neither human nor monster, but something trapped in between.

The blindfold covering his eyes felt heavier than usual. Slowly, his fingers curled around the cold chains resting on his lap.

Far behind them, a small village mourned the deaths of three innocent people. And ahead of them awaited the place that had given him a name feared by both kingdoms.

The Grim Reaper.