A couple of years later...

This is not good at all.

His face collided with the rocky ground. He tried to muster up the remaining strength to get up but couldn’t. His chest was on fire. He lay there, hoping he wouldn't get struck with the same brutal punch.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

There was a slight chuckle in the background, with a voice saying, “Come on, I didn’t hit you that hard.” Looking up, he saw a brunette woman offering a helping hand. He took the offer in a heartbeat.

“I thought this was supposed to be a ‘friendly sparring match.’ You almost killed me.”

“Almost killed you? I just hit you in the chest. You’re not going to die from that.”

Owen let out a loud groan. He had every right to be annoyed since he took one hell of a beating. The sharp pain lingered within his chest. He took a few deep breaths in the hope the pain would soothe. It did a little.

The light warmth on his lip made Owen noticed the small stream of blood flowing down. Moving perfectly fine, he got into the woman’s face. “See! Look right here! You didn’t just hit me in the chest. Look! My lip’s bleeding!”

“Would you back off a bit?” she said, shoving him away from her face. “Taking the beatings now will be beneficial for you down the road. You must fight to get what you want. You have to feel the pain to get what you want. If you’re complaining about a simple sparring match, then you’re in deep trouble. You don’t want that, speaking from experience.”

Owen rolled his eyes. Why couldn’t she spill it already? He never liked when Jill mentioned her past. She never went into complete detail. What was always mentioned was the tip of the iceberg. Her past remained heavily masked by her sense of independence. There were many times when Owen wanted to squeeze the juice, but he forced himself not to. He felt that she would’ve told him already if she felt comfortable enough.

Jill walked over to Owen with a rag in her hand. She leaned close for her breath to hit his face. “Here, let me wipe it for you.”

Owen stepped back, rapidly waving his hands close to his chest. “J-J-Jill…! I-I can do it myself!” He quickly snatched the rag out of Jill’s hand.

“Hmph, well, that's okay if you say so. I’m going inside to grab our stuff for hunting. We’re going to need food for tonight.” She jogged her way back into the cabin.

How did she expect him to use a dusty rag? He dropped it on the ground, deciding not to use it. Instead, he rubbed his palm across his mouth.

He then gets into his fighting stance. His hands were up, protecting his face as his dominant leg was ahead. He mimicked the sparring match he just had. A few good parries and well-thrown strikes that an average person couldn’t have avoided.

But Jill wasn’t average. Her fighting skills were special. Either she was highly gifted, or she trained her ass off.

Her flexible body swiftly dodged anything, and her strikes were quick. Half the time, it was impossible to see them coming. His face got impaled to the ground without even having a chance to react.

She was undoubtedly remarkable.

“Owen!” yelled a voice by the cabin’s entrance. Jill waved her hand, singling him to come over.

He took his time, strolling his way like he didn’t have a care in the world. Her long, brunette hair flowed along with the wind. He wanted that sight to last for a bit longer.

“Goddamn, you’re slow.”

“How many daggers are you gonna bring?” Owen asked while fixing his messy hair.

“Three. But I brought one for you… sooooo… there are four.”

“You’re bringing a dagger for me? Why? You know I can’t stand them.” He walked over to the door. “I’m going inside and grabbing my knife.”

“Oh no, you’re not!” Jill grabbed Owen by the back of his shirt and pulled him away from the door. “You can’t rely on one type of weapon forever. You need to alternate with other blade lengths. Trust me, it’ll help you.”

She can’t be serious!

Daggers were something Owen despised. Not because he was terrible at using them, it’s because he felt uncomfortable fighting in length. A sword was the same. Fighting from afar wasn’t something he was comfortable with.

“Wait a second, why are you even bringing daggers? We’re going hunting. Where are the bow and arrows?” he asked.

“You know I don’t go anywhere without my daggers. Anything could happen. And besides, the bow and arrows are right there.” She pointed at the weapons leaning against the outer wall. “I hunted the last four times, so it’s your turn.”

Owen gave Jill a fussy look. There was no point in arguing since she was the most stubborn person he knew. That didn’t matter much since he had only known a handful of people in his short twenty-year life.

He walked over to the poorly crafted arrows. They looked as fragile as an elderly woman’s bones.

This man, Roger, can’t craft a bow to save his life!

He slung the wooden case filled with arrows and picked up the bow. “What else is in the bag? Don’t tell me it’s just daggers in there.”

“ Of course not. I packed a rope in case our prey is too heavy to carry.”

Owen continued to chat with Jill as they walked into the forest. He had to take his mind off that he barely knew how to use a bow. Jill taught him months ago, but that’s about it. It was always fruit on the shrubs or trees whenever he went to get food. He had never actually pierced an animal with an arrow before.

He took a moment of silence and prayed to the being above. He wasn’t a genuine believer of the being above. He despised the being. The being was incapable of supporting him. His prayers were always reached by no one. He didn’t pray for support or help. He prayed not to embarrass himself in front of Jill.

Dark green trees surrounded them. A clump of broad tree trunks rested on the ground. Calm breezes brought a sign of relief to Owen. Millions of unknown creatures, with birds singing and snails, lazily wandered the land. To Owen, this was a normal sighting. But to someone from another world, this was indeed a breathtaking sight.

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“Right there.” Jill jumped on Owen’s back.

She saw a rabbit not too far away as they hid behind a tree. Its fur was coated with a lovely shade of gray.

Owen tried to focus on the rabbit, but Jill’s soft breathing distracted him. He thought of something but instantly shook it off. There was no way he could think of Jill like that. What he wanted to do was impress her. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Jill, do you mind moving back a bit? I don’t want to accidentally hit you as I’m pulling back.”

“Oh, sure.”

He attempted to flick his short hair in the sky, but his eyes were glued to the immobile rabbit. If he messes up, they’ll have nothing to eat.

He slowly raised his bow, his palms so sweaty they were almost sliding off. His eyes and mind were on the target. He stayed calm, took deep breaths, and concentrated.

“Umm… Owen…”

Jill said something, but his ears blocked out every noise. He wasn’t going to let her voice ruin his moment.

He pulled back the string and released it. The rabbit was still there, unharmed. Owen never saw an arrow fly away from him. He saw nothing but air.

Jill smacked Owen in the back of the head. “You forgot to put the arrow on the bow, genius!”

Owen’s face spiked red. “W-W-W-Why didn’t you tell me!”

“I did tell you! And you completely ignored me!”

Blocking out the noise completely backfired!

The rabbit must’ve heard their screaming since it hopped away hastily. Jill tugged on Owen’s arm.

“Go follow our dinner. And make sure to actually put the arrow in.”

Owen pulled his arm back, trying to avoid eye contact. “There’s no point since it hopped away. We both have no idea where it went.”

Jill squeezed her fist and stomped on the ground. She turned around, walking deeper into the woods without a destination.

The damp air was combined with the awkward silence as Owen was a bit behind. Out of nowhere, he apologized.

“Sorry…”

Jill kept walking without acknowledging him. She didn’t care for apologies. Words would do nothing in this situation. Action was the only thing that mattered.

Owen knew this but still apologized. The feeling of guilt, knowing that they might not eat because of him, made him say that word. He also wanted to punch his gut to penalize himself.

Instead, he laid out his hand, offering Jill the bow. She snatched it without even looking. Her sixth sense was frightening.

After traveling for a bit longer, they ended up at a small pond. The pond was isolated, with only a few trees and bushes surrounding it. Leaves floated on the water's surface, with weeds and wildflowers blooming around the edge.

Standing behind a wall of shrubs, something caught Jill’s attention. She looked at the tree next to the pond and noticed a human-like figure sitting against its thick trunk. She gasped, quickly dropped her bow, and used Owen’s arm to pin him to the ground.

Owen couldn’t budge out of Jill’s grip. “What the hell—”

“Quiet,” Jill aggressively whispered, “Stay down here, and don’t you dare pop your head up.”

What’s going on? Why did she say that? His guess was as good as a stranger’s, but he still complied with Jill. With her head peeking, she saw something special. At least, that’s what Owen thought based on her facial expression.

Jill picked up the bow and grabbed an arrow from the case, still on Owen’s back. She steadily aimed it at something. One breath was taken before she released the arrow.

Jill opened her bag and grabbed a knife at random. She pulled out a relatively new iron knife with a few scratches. She jumped out of the bushes, charging at something, leaving Owen alone.

He took that to his advantage, disobeying Jill, and peaked his head above the shrubs.

That was when he saw it.

The figure wore lapis-colored armor from shoulder to toe, with the sleeves of the arm saying: SCAR. Multiple black stripes ran down the armor’s limbs. His helmet was resting on the grass, corresponding with the color of his armor. However, the eye area was tinted from chrome yellow.

He’s one of them!

Owen’s eyes popped out of his head after realizing who the man was. This was his first time seeing one in person. Flashbacks from the elders telling young Owen about the traumatic experiences they had with the men in blue flooded his brain. From one story to the next, he felt like he was there. The elders sometimes called them The Guardians of Paradise, more commonly known as SCAR. After being bombarded with flashbacks, Owen quickly snapped out of it, returning to the present.

The man noticed someone coming after him. He took a defensive stance, waiting for her to come into range.

The man swung, only to hit the air. Jill successfully dodged his attack.

In terms of equipment, Jill was at a disadvantage. Her weapon was too dull and too short to go against his baton, and her metal knife wouldn’t do any damage to his armor. She knew this yet still attacked.

The man in blue continued to swing aimlessly. It was easy to tell he didn’t know what he was doing. His attacks were too slow and predictable, and his movement was off. It was like he picked up a weapon for the first time and swung it without genuine care.

Jill was probably aware of this. She had not struck once. All she had been doing was dodging the man’s attack, trying to tire him out. If she wanted to, she could’ve ended it in a matter of seconds. The man kept swinging blindly and recklessly. It was as if he didn’t care if he won or not.

“You’re giving me quite a feeling,” she said with a blissful expression. Her hair waved in the air as she couldn’t help but smile. It was like watching a cat play with an injured mouse.

After swinging for what seemed like an eternity for the man, he dropped his baton in defeat. His breath could be heard from a mile away. The man sounded like a dog panting in the blistering sun. His hands were on his knees, gasping for air.

“You’re done already?” It was a sarcastic question.

The man didn’t give a response. He looked at the ground, trying to inhale as much oxygen as he could.

“Well, it was fun while it lasted.” Jill stood above him, striking his defenseless head with the butt of her knife.

Owen leaped over the shrubs and ran towards Jill. She stood over the unconscious body, with her face screaming with thoughts.

Owen placed his hand on Jill’s shoulder, causing her soul to jump out of her body.

“Woah, woah! It’s just me!” Owen said, pulling back his hand.

Her face looked distraught. It’s as if she recalled a horrific memory, trying never to remember it ever again.

“Just—just get the rope out of my bag,” she said while looking back at the body.

“What are you going to do with him?”

“Something I’ve been wanting to do for years.”

The look on her face represented a single-minded person. There was no doubt in his mind that anything he said wouldn’t make a difference.

“I don’t care how long it takes or how many boulders I’ll have to shove aside. I will do what I must.”

Owen handed her the rope in the bag without understanding Jill's blabbering.

“After this, I’ll finally have my answers.”

Once again, she said something Owen didn’t understand. Should he question it? Maybe not.

While she tied the man, Owen gazed at the pond. He noticed a log floating on the surface. A random thought popped into his head. Could maintain his balance as he surfed the long on the peaceful pond. It was one of those weird thoughts that passed through occasionally.

“Owen, let’s go.” The man’s arms were tied together. Jill carried him against her back, giving him a piggy-back ride.

Owen’s eyebrows arched towards the sky. “You’re going to carry him like that?! Isn’t that bulky armor heavy?”

“It’s only a twenty-minute walk back home, I think. It shouldn’t be a big deal. Oh, and can you put the helmet in the bag? Please,” she said while walking.

Owen nodded in agreement. He stuffed the helmet inside with little care, then raced towards Jill.

What was she going to do with the man?

He didn’t know. Why would he know?

Jill never spoke her mind. She kept everything hidden. Maybe she’ll keep this hidden from Owen. He didn’t want that, but there was nothing he could do.

Since Jill was the most stubborn person he’d ever met.