Falin returned to Flatfield the following evening with Jonik in tow. The boy marched along, humming an upbeat tune to himself. From the way he carried himself, one would have thought he had accomplished something during his little excursion.

His cheer was a marked contrast to the sleepy, desolate mood of the village. With night fast approaching, the superstitious townfolk who believed demons hated the sun had become even more reclusive than on Falin’s last visit. There wasn’t a soul to be seen. Most homes were even devoid of light and sound, to avoid drawing the attention of a would-be attacker. A pointless measure against a high-rank demon, of course. He supposed it was possible one might be drawn to homes with obvious inhabitants, but it might just as well delight in attacking those who thought themselves safe. They might all have been despicable, but demons were individuals. It really came down to each one’s preference.

Pointless as it was, he supposed the villagers’ cowering was harmless at worst. With no way to know how a demon would react, it was fine if they wanted to do whatever set their minds at ease with the illusion of safety.

A few brave souls looked out their windows at Falin. Their eyes lit up as they saw him, then they scurried away from the windows, perhaps to inform friends or family. It would have been no surprise to learn that word had spread of Falin and his intent. They saw him and knew the demon had been defeated. Of course, none of them were brave enough to be the first to come out still. This time, he would give them the benefit of the doubt that they were driven by residual fear of the demon and not of him.

“Boy, where do you live?” Falin asked.

“I can get there by myself from here,” Jonik said. “Thanks for everything.”

Falin shook his head. “I should at least escort you as far as your home. Lead the way.”

“Suit yourself,” Jonik said, shrugging.

“Don’t be so dismissive,” Falin said. “This is exactly the type of sense of duty a Sacred Knight must attain. If you say you wish to be one, then show some respect.”

Jonik’s face lit up. “Are you saying I could be one now?”

“That is not what I said at all.”

Quite the contrary, Falin still thought the boy’s ambition foolish and disrespectful to his father. But if he was going to hold onto it until it was definitively crushed, he should at least honor what his hopeless dream entailed.

“I know what I heard,” Jonik said.

“Believe what you like.”

“Oh, I will,” Jonik said. “Anyway, thanks for walking me home, I guess. Come on.”

He walked ahead, and Falin followed him through the village until they arrived at a small house with a forge situated outside and the glow of candlelight shining through the windows. It was obvious it belonged to the blacksmith at a glance. Jonik walked up to the home’s door and pushed it open, entering with all the fanfare as if he had returned from an afternoon out.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“You can come in if you want,” Jonik said.

Falin nodded and followed. It was only proper to see this through to the end. Inside were four others: the man who had approached Falin, a woman about his age, and two children younger than Jonik. All four were seated at a table at the center of the house’s main room, eating what must have been their evening meal. It seemed a bit late for that, but it didn’t much matter to Falin when others chose to eat. Though the house had not seemed that large from the outside, it did seem to be divided into proper rooms unlike many peasant homes. This appeared to double as kitchen and dining, with no sign of bedding or bathroom supplies. There were three doors leading to other rooms. Not enough for everyone to have their own, especially if one was reserved for a chamberpot—he couldn’t say for sure, but he hoped so—but more space and privacy than the common man dreamed of.

The four stared at Jonik with jaws agape and eyes wide, motionless. There was a long, silent moment before anyone moved.

Jonik smiled sheepishly and blushed. “I’m back.”

“Jonik!” the woman cried out. She rushed forward and grabbed him in a tight hug. “Never do anything like that again!”

“I won’t, Mom,” he said, his voice strained as he tried to pull out of his mother’s death grip. “I’m sorry.”

His mother pulled back and wiped her eyes, allowing the father to grab Jonik in just as strong an embrace.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” his father exclaimed. “You have no idea how worried we were.”

Jonik hugged his father back. “I know, Dad. I’m really sorry. But there’s something I need to tell you.”

His father pulled back and looked at him with a deep frown. Jonik pointed at Falin, and his father jumped in surprise, clutching at his chest, as if Falin had appeared out of thin air.

“Sir Knight!” he said. “I’m so sorry for ignoring you. Thank you so much.”

“There’s no need for apologies or thanks,” Falin said. “This is the least a Sacred Knight can do.”

“Well, you have our thanks anyway,” the mother said.

Falin shrugged. “I suppose I can’t stop you.”

“Can I say my thing now?” Jonik asked.

His father nodded and put a comforting hand on Jonik’s shoulder. “Of course. Go ahead.”

“This guy is a jerk,” Jonik said, still pointing at Falin. “No, he’s an asshole.”

Falin scowled. “Excuse me?”

Jonik’s father gasped. “Jonik, you can’t—”

“But,” Jonik went on, “he still helped me, and looked out for me afterward, and he fought the demon for everyone, and it was super cool. Dad, I want to be a Sacred Knight like him. Just nicer. Please.”

Falin clicked his tongue. The insults aside, hadn’t this foolishness already been decided? Jonik’s father wanted him to be a blacksmith. That was that. Nobody paid Falin any mind, however. They seemed to be back to ignoring him. He wasn’t about to say anything, either. He felt dumber just listening to this stupid conversation. There was no way he was getting involved in it.

Indeed, Jonik’s father scowled, pursing his lips as he considered his response. He sighed. “You know, son, maybe I’m just too happy to see you safe to argue, but okay. If you’re serious about it, and you really can’t stand to take up my business—”

“Sorry, Dad, but I really do hate it.”

“Then I won’t stop you. Do your best, Jonik.”

Falin clicked his tongue again. The fool caved so easily. Didn’t he know what was best? Wasn’t that the root of the whole issue? Yet here he was, giving in to a child’s simple plea. How absurd. A reltus father, even a human nobleman, wouldn’t have caved so easily.

He turned and walked toward the door. “With your son safe, I’ll be going now.”

“Will you be at the inn?” the mother asked.

“At least let me buy you a drink,” the father said.

Falin shook his head and kept moving without looking back. “I’ve already used enough time here. I need to move on.”

“Are you sure?” the father asked. “You must be tired. I know you said you can’t accept payment, but certainly our hospitality is fine.”

“I am fine,” Falin replied. “I will be going now, and there is no swaying me. Farewell.”