"Dammit! You beasts! You bastards!"

The young nobleman gritted his teeth against the searing pain all over his body, steadying himself on a tree trunk as he staggered onward.

Blood oozed from his wounds and his mind began to fog, but rage alone kept him moving.

’How could so many Demons suddenly appear near the manor? Were those Guards all sleeping on the job?’

He cursed under his breath, his voice trembling with pain.

’When I get back... no, wait...’

Dalko shook his woozy head, struggling to stay conscious.

’I have to get them to rescue Roland first... I can settle the score with them later!’

Dragging his feet, he finally reached the edge of the forest.

He was about to cry for help when he caught a bizarre scent in the air—a mixture of roasting meat and blood.

After the life-or-death battle he had just endured, Dalko’s instincts immediately put him on high alert.

Fighting off a wave of dizziness, he crouched low and peered cautiously out from the trees.

He saw the two Guards who had been left behind lying in pools of their own blood. Their bodies were covered in savage wounds; they were clearly long dead.

Several of their fine steeds had met the same cruel fate, their bellies slit open.

A horde of goblins was carving up the horseflesh with rusty blades, turning it over a bonfire and releasing a sickening, scorched smell.

’Hell...’

Dalko held his breath and scanned his surroundings warily, the color draining even further from his already pale face.

His fingers trembling, he counted the figures in the distance from the cover of the thicket.

’One, two, three... Over a hundred goblins!’

A cold sweat trickled down his temple.

’How in the world did these beasts just show up here? The area was clear when we arrived...’

He saw several squads of goblins patrolling the perimeter, their rust-spotted weapons glinting coldly in the sunlight.

Fighting off another wave of dizziness, Dalko backed away inch by inch. He didn’t stop until the sickening smell of roasted flesh finally faded, at which point he slumped against an oak tree and slid to the ground.

"HUFF... HUFF..."

His ragged gasps were jarringly loud in the silent forest.

His vision blurred from blood loss, and every breath sent a fresh jolt of pain through his wounds.

The young nobleman tilted his head back. Dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, stinging his eyes.

’I can’t believe it... To think I’d die in a place like this... killed by goblins... How pathetic...’

In his delirium, it was as if he could hear Roland’s calm voice once more.

"Master Dalko, something isn’t right. We should prepare to flee..."

’If only I had listened to his advice...’

’If only we had conserved our strength...’

’Even without the horses, if we had just looked out for each other, we might have actually escaped...’

Dalko closed his eyes in anguish.

Roland’s sharp, handsome face appeared in his mind.

The young man he had known for less than a day, yet already admired from the bottom of his heart.

’Exceptionally talented, yet humble and courteous...’

’It’s all my fault...’

His nails dug deep into his palms.

’If I hadn’t insisted on doing things my way... Roland... he... he definitely would have made it back alive...’

Guilt flooded his heart like a toxic flame, making his throat constrict as his eyes began to burn.

"Master Dalko?"

’Heh... so those old geezers from the Church in their white robes weren’t lying after all...’

Dalko murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

’You really do see things... right before you die...’

"Master Dalko!"

’No!’

’This isn’t a hallucination!’

Dalko snapped open his eyes, which had been about to close for good. His scattered gaze sharpened, coming back into focus.

In the Dawn Light, the very youth who had been the source of his guilt stood before him.

Dewdrops clung to his short black hair, and though his frame was somewhat slender, he stood ramrod straight.

His sharp, handsome face was unblemished save for a few scrapes. Only his blood-soaked robes testified to the battle he had endured.

"Master Dalko?"

Seeing Dalko staring blankly at him, completely motionless, Roland frowned and thought to himself.

’Strange... his injuries don’t look severe enough to make him lose consciousness...’

Just as Roland bent over to examine him, Dalko shot up as if he’d been shocked, his filthy, blood-caked hands clamping down hard on Roland’s shoulders.

"Roland! You’re alive!"

Dalko’s voice trembled with disbelief.

’So it was just a false alarm...’

Roland felt the powerful grip on his shoulders, and the knot of worry in his chest finally loosened.

He pressed an index finger to his lips and whispered.

"Keep your voice down, Master Dalko. This forest is crawling with goblins."

"Oh... right... right..."

Dalko nodded as if waking from a dream. He studied Roland carefully in the Dawn Light, then spoke with a sincere piety he had never felt before in his life.

"Thank the Celestial Father you made it back alive..."

But after his initial relief, Dalko was struck by a startling realization.

He could see it clearly now: aside from a few stray splatters of blood, Roland was completely unscathed.

’There must have been at least thirty or forty goblins back there...’

’For Roland to escape that goblin mob completely unscathed... that’s just...’

Recalling the sharp Sword Skills Roland had displayed with that Iron Sword, Dalko swallowed hard. His estimation of the young man rose yet again.

’How old is he? Sixteen? Seventeen?’

Dalko thought back to what he had been like at that age and couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh, his face a mixture of complex emotions.

"Master Dalko, what about the two Guards? Why are you out here alone?"

"Hah..."

The question made Dalko recall the scene from earlier, and his stomach lurched.

He fought down the wave of nausea, sighed deeply, and recounted everything he had seen.

"Tsk..."

Roland’s brow furrowed as he listened to Dalko’s tale. He pursed his lips in thought.

He thought for a moment, then scanned their surroundings warily before speaking in a hushed voice.