It had been two days since the spar between Rick and Rome.
In those two days, Rome hadn't spoken a single word to Rick like before. But he followed him everywhere—through the academy halls, the cafeteria, even during early morning runs. Always a few steps behind. Always watching. As if trying to understand something he couldn't put into words.
It morning was and, a holiday at the Academy.
Rick ran through the city streets, greeting familiar faces as he passed. The city was calm, bathed in soft morning light. After a while, he stopped in front of a small bakery and stepped inside.
"Good morning, Miss Diana. Are you open?"
"Oh, Rick! Of course," Diana replied warmly, smiling as she wiped her hands. "Here for bread again?"
"Yeah, as usual." Rick glanced around. "By the way… where's Mr. Roy?"
She chuckled softly. "Still asleep. He's never been a morning person."
"I see." Rick said, smiling faintly.
"By the way, where were you yesterday? Eve was really worried. You should visit her today."Diana while grabbing bread.
"I will. Thank you." Rick as he took the large package of bread.
As Rick left the bakery, Diana watched him go, her smile tinged with sadness.
"What an innocent child… I hope he stays like this."
Outside, Rick opened the door—and as expected, Rome stood there.
Rick said nothing. He only sighed.
Rome's eyes immediately fell on the bread in Rick's hands. "Again?" he asked flatly. "You're going back to the back alleys to give food?"
"Yeah," Rick replied calmly.
Rome clenched his fists. "You know they don't appreciate it. Some of them even tricked you yesterday. They called you an idiot and naive."
"And?" Rick said casually, already turning toward the alley.
Rome's voice rose. "What I'm saying is—stop doing this!"
Rick stopped.
Rome froze.
For a long moment, Rick stood there, his back turned. Then he slowly turned around, a small smile on his face—soft, tired, but unbroken.
"Why do you think I'm doing this?" Rick asked.
Rome didn't answer.
Rick looked down at the bread in his hands. "Do you really think I want their gratitude?"
He lifted his gaze. "If I wanted appreciation, I wouldn't be here."
The noise of the city faded. Rick stepped closer.
"I do this because I remember what it feels like to be invisible," he said quietly.
"To be hungry. To be ignored. To be passed by like you don't exist." Rick, remembering his days with his mother.
Rome's chest tightened.
"There were days when no one helped me," Rick continued. "So I promised myself… that if I ever had enough—even just a little—I wouldn't turn away."
Rome's voice trembled. "And what if it breaks you?"
Rick met his eyes.
"Then at least," he said gently, "I'll know I tried."
Silence swallowed them whole.
Rome turned away, anger burning—but beneath it was pain. Old. Deep. Familiar.
"You're an idiot," he muttered.
Rick smiled. "I know."
They walked into the alley together, shadows stretching around them.
As Rick handed the bread to a trembling old woman, Rome watched. Her hands shook as she accepted it. Tears streamed down her face as she bowed again and again.
Rick said nothing.
And for the first time, Rome felt something crack inside him.
He didn't see a fool anymore.
He saw someone strong enough to remain kind in a world that had every reason not to be.
"You know, Rome…" Rick continued quietly.
"I don't care what they think of me."
Rome didn't respond, but Rick kept walking, his voice steady.
"Whether they appreciate me or not doesn't matter. But one thing is certain—when they smile, it's not a lie." He glanced toward the alley ahead. "Not everyone will be grateful. I know that. But if there's even one person—just one—who truly feels it… then I'm happy."
Rome's steps slowed.
"You know what I feel when I see their smiles?" Rick said softly. "Warmth. A warmth that tells me I did something right. I know I can't make the world a better place. I'm not that great." He paused. "But at least… I can make it a little easier for someone to survive today."
Those words pierced Rome like an arrow.
Memories he had buried deep rose to the surface.
Days when his stomach burned with hunger.
Days when his mother bowed her head on the street, begging strangers for food.
Days when he waited—hoping someone, anyone, would stop.
And then… the old man.
The one person who helped them when no one else did.
Rome looked at Rick and saw him—not just as a foolishly kind boy—but as the reflection of that man from his past.
Respect stirred inside his chest. Quiet, Heavy and Real.
Rome remembered how deeply he had admired that kindness back then… even when it came without expectation. Even when it was small.
He said nothing.
Rick, sensing Rome's silence, continued walking into the alley, distributing food to everyone who approached him. One by one, people gathered—not to demand, but out of worry.
"Where were you yesterday?"
"Are you alright?"
"Is everything alright?"
Rick smiled gently and calmed them, assuring them he that he is alright.
As he handed out the bread, Rome stood a little distance away, watching.
Then a small girl approached Rome.
"Big brother… here. This is yours."
She held out a piece of bread.
Rome blinked. "For… me?"
"Yes!" she said brightly. "I saw you staring at big brother, so I thought you might be hungry."
Her innocent voice struck something deep inside him.
Rome hesitated—then smiled faintly, a smile he hadn't worn in years.
"It's okay," he said softly. "I don't need it."
The girl tilted her head.
"But…" Rome added, kneeling slightly, "can I ask you something?"
She nodded eagerly.
"Ask me anything! Nina knows everything!"
The little girl puffed out her chest, her face scrunched in confidence, her voice bright and fearless.
Rome looked at Rick.
"Okay… Nina," he said softly. "What do you think of him?"
"Him?" Nina tilted her head, confused. "Big brother Rick?"
"Yes. Big brother Rick," Rome repeated.
Nina's eyes sparkled.
"Well," she said without hesitation, "he's an angel!"
Rome froze. "An… angel?" he echoed, genuinely confused.
"Yes!" Nina nodded enthusiastically. "An angel!"
"And why do you think that?" Rome asked gently, kneeling a little so he could look her in the eyes.
Nina smiled, as if the answer was obvious.
"Because my mom says an angel is someone who helps people when they're in need… without asking for anything back." She clasped her small hands together. "Big brother Rick gave us food when we were hungry. He gave us clothes to wear. He even helped build a shelter so we wouldn't sleep in the cold."
She looked straight at him.
"And he didn't ask for anything. So that means he's an angel, right?"
Rome didn't know what to say.
Before he could respond, a voice called out, "Nina! Come here!"
"Yes, Mom!" Nina replied, turning back to Rome. "Okay, bye big brother! My mom is calling me!"
She waved cheerfully and ran back, humming as she disappeared into the crowd.
Rome stood there, unmoving.
The word angel echoed in his mind.
To people who lived normal lives, it might have sounded exaggerated—almost laughable.
But for people who had nothing… for people who barely survived day by day…
A single act of kindness was enough to bring tears.
Rome knew that better than anyone.
He remembered how, back then, he had almost worshipped the man who helped him and his mother. Not because the man was divine—but because, to a starving child, kindness felt divine.
And today… hearing those words from Nina made Rome see Rick in a completely new light.
Not as a fool.
Not as someone naïve.
But as someone strong enough to stay kind in a cruel world.
After distributing the last of the bread, Rick and Rome began heading toward Eve's home.
"You know Nina?" Rome said after a moment.
Rick smiled. "Yeah."
"She called you an angel," Rome added.
Rick laughed softly. "An angel, huh…"
"Why are you smiling?" Rome asked, confused.
"Oh, nothing," Rick replied. "I just remembered someone who once said the same thing." remembering Andrew and Lilly.
Rome frowned slightly but didn't push further.
Then he asked, "So… what do you think about it?"
Rick stopped walking.
He looked up at the sky for a second recalling the words Lilly said to Andrew, then back at Rome.
"You know what?" he said calmly. "I'm not an angel. I'm not anything special.I'm just a normal human being… helping another human being."
He smiled—gentle, sincere.
"And the name of that human being… is Rick."
As Rick said that the sunlight caught the small locket hanging from his neck as it swayed gently the word of Rick with his steps.
Rome watched him walk ahead.
And for the first time in a long while, Rome felt something warm settle quietly in his heart.
Rome walked beside Rick in silence, his thoughts sealed behind an unreadable calm. Not a single word passed between them until they reached the inn.
There, the stillness softened. They shared a quiet lunch with Eve, the warmth of her presence briefly easing the weight of the day. When afternoon came, farewells were exchanged.
The sun hung lower when Rick and Rome made their way toward the Adventurers' Guild.
"So," Rome asked at last, curiosity breaking his restraint, "you're an adventurer too?"
Rick nodded. "Yeah, that's right. And because of that to keep my adventurer card valid, I need to complete at least ten quests a month. If I fail, I get a warning. Three warnings, and my rank is downgraded." He said it casually, but the truth beneath carried years of effort and quiet pressure.
The guild stood tall within the city. Rick chose two simple quests—nothing dangerous, nothing flashy inside the city since Academy forbid students to go outside the city.
The rest of the day passed in motion and dust, Rick completing tasks while Rome followed closely, assisting where he could, watching more than helping. His eyes lingered on Rick's movements, as though he were trying to confirm something—something unspoken—before making a choice of his own.
By evening, exhaustion weighed on them as they headed back toward the Academy.
"By the way," Rome said, breaking the silence again, "I wanted to ask you something."
"What is it?" Rick replied.
"I hope you know," Rome said, his voice lowering, "that the back alleys are filled with gangs. They could harm you."
Rick smiled, unbothered. "Oh, them? Don't worry. As long as I stay out of their way and don't cause trouble, they won't bother me."
"But still," Rome insisted, his voice growing firm, almost sharp, "it'd be better if you had a knight with you."
Rick laughed. "A knight? With me? Stop joking."
Rome stopped walking.
"Who," Rick asked quietly, "want to become a knight for someone weak like me?"
Rick turned, expecting a grin—but found none.
"What about me?" Rome said, his face serious, unwavering.
Rick froze, the smile fading, his heart caught between surprise and something far heavier.
Rick stopped.
Before him, Rome went down on one knee, one hand pressed firmly against his chest—the ancient gesture of a knight vowing his life to serve his lord.
"Let me become your knight." Rome said that with the sun sinking toward the horizon, its dying light setting the sky ablaze in gold and crimson. A cold wind swept through the street, carrying with it the hush of fate.
Rick stared at Rome's bowed head, at the seriousness carved into his expression. This was no whim. No impulsive promise.
It was a vow.
"Why me?" Rick finally asked, his voice unsteady. "I'm not strong, I'm not a noble and I don't think I've done anything that deserves this. Sobwhy me?"
Rome lifted his gaze
"You don't need to be strong," he said. "I will become strong for you. You don't need to be a noble—I will make you one." His voice did not waver. "You've already proven yourself worthy."
Rick's breath caught.
"I don't want a lord who can kill a thousand," Rome continued. "I want a lord who can save a thousand. And you proved yourself worthy to me today." he paused
"Rick, the people of this city know you, admire you and some are even greatfull to you and that alone is enough for me to choose you as my master."
"So," Rome said quietly, "will you choose me as your knight?"
Silence fell.
Rick said nothing. He only stood there, looking down at the man kneeling before him as the last light of the sun spilled across them both—like a blessing.
At last, Rick moved.
He unsheathed his sword.
Steel sang softly as it cleared the scabbard. Rick stepped forward and rested the flat of the blade upon Rome's shoulder.
"I, Rick Van Vleck," he said, his voice steady now, "ask you, Rome Kresher, do you vow to protect and serve me as your lord?"
At the sound of the name Van Vleck, Rome's eyes widened—but the surprise did not shake him.
"I do," he said without hesitation. "I, Rome Kresher, as a warrior and as a servant, vow to protect and serve Rick Van Vleck as my lord for the rest of my life."
The vow was sealed.
Rick withdrew his blade and returned it to its sheath.
"Now, my knight," he said quietly, a faint smile touching his lips, "I hope you won't tell anyone about my true identity."
Rome rose to his feet, smiling in return. "Of course, my lord."
And just like that, Rick gained his first knight.
A knight who would one day be remembered not merely as a protector—but as the First Sword, the beginning of a legend that would echo far beyond this fading sunset.
Meanwhile—far from the light of vows and sunset promises—deep within the unseen reaches of the Asther Kingdom, the masters of Spider gathered.
Eight seats stood arranged in a cold circle, each occupied by a presence heavy with malice. At the center, shrouded in silence, sat their master.
"Is everyone here?" demanded Royce, First Seat of Spider, his voice sharp as drawn steel. "If so, stop the pleasantries. We are here for an important discussion."
Mrith, the Seventh Seat, leaned back with a scowl. "Then answer this first. Why call us now? You know that John has been hunting us like animals ever since that incident a year ago. What makes this meeting so urgent?"
"Enough," growled Dain, Second Seat, slamming his hand against the table. "Impatience will only get you killed. Shut up and listen. We will hear the reason soon enough."
Royce folded his hands, his expression cold.
"Our master has decided," he said, "that it is time we strike the Royal National Magic Academy."
The chamber erupted.
"You're insane!" shouted Billy, the Sixth Seat. "Do you have any idea how heavily guarded the Academy is? Even thinking about attacking it is suicide!"
"And why attack it at all?" Neo, Fifth Seat, added darkly. "What makes it worth risking everything?"
The tension climbed, voices overlapping—until—
"That's because the Cursed Sword is there."
The words fell like a blade.
Silence crushed the room.
Their master finally spoke, his voice low, commanding, absolute.
"That sword," he continued, "is the key."
Royce nodded. "According to William, it's been sealed within the Academy."
Ken, the Third Seat, frowned. "William?" His lips curled in distrust. "Can we even trust him?"
"You don't have to worry about that," the master replied calmly. "I've accounted for that."
Ken smirked. "If you say so."
Dain leaned forward, eyes burning. "So when do we attack—and how?"
"In two months," Royce answered. "On the day the Academy celebrates its Foundation Festival."
Murmurs rippled through the seats.
"That's the day security is tightest," Neo said cautiously.
"No," Royce replied, smiling. "It's the day their attention will be divided."
"Divided? How?" Dain.
The master's voice cut in once more.
"Because the Wink Kingdom has agreed to assist us."
Shock flickered across the room.
"They will deploy their forces along the eastern border of Asther," Royce explained. "This will force Asther to mobilize its army—weakening the Academy's defenses and giving us the freedom we need."
"But why would the Wink Kingdom help us?"
The question came from Lina, Fourth Seat of Spider, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
The master of Spider answered calmly.
"Because of hatred older than memory."
He rose slowly, his shadow stretching across the stone floor.
"Many years ago, Asther was not its own kingdom. It was a province of the Wind Kingdom—until it broke away and crowned itself sovereign. Since then, the two nations have lived on the edge of war."
Royce continued, his voice smooth with confidence.
"If not for the Continental Union, war would have consumed them long ago."
Lina clenched her fists. "And why do you think that the Continental Union will stay silent this time."
"Because rules exist to be bent," the master replied. "Under Union law, a Nation cannot attack another Nation without cause. So the Wind Kingdom will not declare war."
Neo frowned. "Then what will they do?"
"They will deploy their army," Royce said with a smirk. "Not to fight—but to threaten."
Asther will be forced to respond. Troops will be pulled from cities, borders reinforced, attention divided. And in that confusion, the Academy will be left exposed.
"The Union will see nothing worth punishing," the master added. "No declaration. No open conflict. Only fear."
Silence followed.
"Now," Royce said softly, his smile widening, "all we have to do… is to wait."
The meeting ended.
And just like that, a single decision rippled outward—crossing borders, shaking thrones, and tightening around lives that did not yet know they were marked.
Far away, beneath peaceful skies, a knight stood at his lord's side, unaware that history had already begun to turn.
A great event had been set into motion.
And it would not stop.