POV: Arthur Leywin

  From what I could see, there were at least thirty bandits.

  Our situation was dire—both the road ahead and the path behind were cut off by enemies armed with swords, spears, and other brutal close-range weapons. To our right, perched on a cliffside, archers had already taken position, their bows trained on us. To our left loomed the sheer drop of the mountain, shrouded in thick, swirling fog.

  Jasmine, Durden, and my father appeared uninjured, at least for now. But Helen… she was pale, her face tight with pain—and for good reason. An arrow jutted from her right calf, its shaft slick with blood.

  Then a voice cut through the tension like a knife.

  A bald man stepped forward, his face a grotesque map of old scars, his body broad and brutish like a bear’s. He carried a massive battle axe, casually slung over one shoulder.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” He sneered. “Pretty good catch, boys. Leave the girls and the kid alive. Try not to scar them too much—damaged goods don’t fetch a good price.”

  He chuckled, fshing a nearly toothless grin.

  I could clearly see how quickly my father snapped back into the role of the seasoned adventurer he once was—the former leader of the Twin Horns. His expression hardened with the kind of calm, battle-worn wisdom that only comes from countless life-or-death encounters.

  With practiced ease, he donned his gauntlets and bellowed, “Safeguard Formation!”

  Adam appeared behind us almost instantly, spear raised and ready as he took position guarding our rear. To our left, Jasmine and Helen fnked us, weapons drawn and eyes locked on the advancing bandits ahead. Despite her injury, Helen stood firm, determined.

  My father and Durden took the right, positioning themselves between us and the cliffside archers. Their stances were solid, unyielding—ready to intercept any arrow that might pierce the barrier.

  Ange, still within the protective sphere of wind, remained focused, lips moving in quiet incantation as she prepared her next spell, all while keeping the barrier pulsing strong with mana.

  I watched Adam, as he fought with the bandit leader. A thundering crash tore my attention away from Adam’s battle.My father had been smmed into the shattered remains of what was once an [Earth Wall]—now reduced to little more than scattered rubble. He was struggling to rise, bracing himself against the debris, his breaths ragged. Blood trickled down the side of his lips, a stark contrast against the dirt and grit smeared across his face.

  “Dad!!”

  Aldric, his voice trembling and I shouted in unison as we bolted from the safety of the wind barrier. I dropped to my knees beside Father, while Mother rushed in just a step behind me.

  Panic was etched across her face. She hovered over him, trembling, her hands twitching like they wanted to move but didn’t know how. I could see her mind racing, paralyzed by fear and uncertainty. Why wasn’t she healing him? The question burned in my throat, but just as I opened my mouth to speak, Father stopped me.

  Cough! Alice, listen to me,” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t worry about me. If you cast a healing spell now, they’ll know what you are. They'll realize... and they’ll try that much harder to take you.”

  He winced, blood staining his lips as he forced the words out. “They’ll be willing to sacrifice a lot more if they know.”

  Mother hesitated, her whole body trembling. Then, with a shaky breath, she pulled out her wand and began chanting. Her voice faltered, the words unsteady. At first, I thought it was because she was overwhelmed by seeing him hurt—but the more I listened, the more it felt like she was afraid of using her magic.

  Father’s eyes moved from her to me and Aldric. He gave up trying to convince her and focused on us.

  “Art, listen carefully,” Father said, his voice strained but steady. “When the healing spell takes effect, they’ll come after your mother. They’ll do anything to capture her.”

  Aldric and I exchanged a quick look. His face was tense, his lips pressed tight together, but he didn’t speak.

  Father continued, focused on me now. “Once I’m healed enough, I’ll engage their leader. I’ll buy us time. I think I can handle him, but I can’t do that if I’m also worrying about you two. Take your mother down the road and don’t stop. Adam will clear the way.”

  “No, Dad!” I couldn’t help myself. “I’m staying with you. I can fight! You saw me—I can help!”

  I felt the words spill out before I could stop them. I knew they sounded childish, but in that moment, none of my age or reason mattered.

  Aldric shifted uneasily next to me, avoiding looking anyone in the eye. He fidgeted with the sleeve of his robe, his hands csped tightly in front of him. “We... we can help,” he muttered, almost too softly to hear.

  Father’s expression hardened, his eyes full of a deep kind of pain I hadn’t seen before. Then, his voice broke, not in anger, but with something much heavier—desperation.

  “LISTEN TO ME, ARTHUR LEYWIN!” he roared. His voice wasn’t just loud—it was desperate, the kind of tone someone uses when they’re about to lose everything.

  I froze, and I could see Aldric flinch, the sound of his father's voice cutting through him like a bde.

  “I know you can fight,” Father continued, his voice softer now but filled with a quiet urgency. “That’s why I’m entrusting your mother to you. Protect her. And protect the baby inside her.”

  The words hit like a punch. I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out.

  Father’s eyes held mine for a long moment, and I could see how much this was costing him. “I’ll catch up to you when this is over. I promise.”

  Aldric shifted uncomfortably beside me, the weight of the moment sinking in. He looked like he wanted to say something—maybe to argue or suggest something else—but instead, he just nodded.

  I nodded too, though my chest felt tight. I didn’t want to go, but I couldn’t say no to him either.

  “Damien! Forget the pn, don’t let them live!” the leader barked, his voice sharp with urgency.

  Who was he commanding?

  Before I could even fully process the question, a voice—quiet but clear—rose above the chaos.

  “...respond to my call and wash all to oblivion.”

  The chant finished just as I turned my head.

  A bst of water exploded toward us.

  From the mountainside, one of the so-called “archers” stood with his hands together, a faint blue glow fading from his fingertips. He wasn’t drawing a bow. He had only pretended to be one of the ranged attackers. In truth, he was never an archer at all—he wasn’t even an augmenter.

  He was a conjurer. And we had been tricked.

  His spell—[water cannon]—was aimed straight at my mother.

  “Dammit,” I growled, the sound rough and too raw for a four-year-old’s voice.

  With what little mana I had left in this small, cursed body, I threw myself at my mother, tackling her to the side in a desperate attempt to move us out of the spell’s path.

  But it hit me almost immediately—my forty-pound frame didn’t have enough force to push us both completely clear of the water cannon’s bst.

  No choice.

  If I was going down, then I was taking that bastard with me.

  I poured the st of my mana into my arms and shoved my mother farther away, pushing her just beyond the danger zone. In that instant, time seemed to stretch. Her eyes widened, panic and disbelief spreading across her face as she realized what I was doing.

  She’d probably get a nasty bruise from the fall, but that didn’t matter. Not compared to what was at stake.

  If she didn’t want to be hit by the next spell, then I had to stop this conjurer—now.

  But before I could do anything a bck streak flew past me and hit the conjurer in the face, he yelled, I looked to the side right before the water canon reached me and beside me stood Aldric, his hand outstretched, a weird bck smoke rising from his hand. What was he doing here? He would get hit, but I couldn’t change that now. He looked back at me and smiled, before the water hit us and unched us of the cliff side and everything went bck.

  POV: Aldric Leywin

  I saw the water canon heading for Arthur and realized it was too te, but I didn’t want mother to also get hit , so I rushed towards him. I noticed the conjurer, if I didn’t get rid of him mother would get hit again, so for the first time in this life I willed the curse from the depths of my mana core. The curse rushed out of my mana core eager to decay what ever was in its way. A small beam of bck and turquoise energy shot out of my hand and hit the conjurer. I looked to Arthur who looked at me with a look of disbelief. I smiled at him, knowing that this was probably the st time I would ever see him again. Then the water hit us, I felt myself being pushed of the cliff, all I could think about was the regret not having been more open with my family. I didn’t want to die again, when I had just gotten a family and a way to suppress the curse.

  I would never get the chance to meet my little sibling or truly be part of the family after fully suppressing the curse. My st thought was my regret to never have truly been part of my own family.