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He took a deep breath, focusing on his duty to overcome his fears, then dashed before a thick tree. Its naked branches cast dancing shadows as he gulped audibly, feeling the icy wind of the winter\'s night lick his skin.

Smith chased after him, not wasting time on useless words. He was now a well-oiled, deadly tool trained in the barony to carry out dangerous missions. Only battle concerned him as his sharp movement cut through the wind.

He caught up with Julius in a split second, his raised metallic gauntlets glinting under the moon. His calculative eyes flashed with violence for a moment as he threw a barrage of short but powerful punches, each accompanied by a loud whistle.

Julius\' eyes widened in response. His opponent\'s skills were much more refined, making his plight turn from bad to worse. He saw no opening to counter-attack, and his short stature played against him, unveiling the importance of reach and distance in combat.

He found himself forced into a passive state, crossing his arms before his head to endure the furious onslaught. With each passing second, the raining blows pushed him back until his back pressed into the trunk. The noise of wood cracking filled his ears as splinters flew around their figure.

Tremors shook his arms, and blinding pain assaulted his nerves as he felt his forearm\'s muscles shatter. Yet, his lips remain tightly shut.

He chose this tree for a reason. It was time to try out his brother\'s last teaching, the one he believed the less, yet his best and only chance.

Adam once told him that nature was a weapon. With enough time to prepare and a bit of creativity, he could use it to turn the tables. Unfortunately, at the moment, he had neither. So, he would try it in the crudest possible way.

After a few agonising moments, he noticed Smith\'s growing impatience. His strikes gradually carried more power, and his swings grew larger.

His eyes blazed with determination as he recognised an opportunity. He suddenly jumped to the left, evading a crushing blow by a hair\'s breadth.

BANG

A smashing noise shattered the monotonous sound of Smith\'s assault, followed by a burst of splinters.

"Argh!"

The knight roared, holding his hand with a distorted expression. Utter shock filled his eyes as they landed on his bent fingers and the cracked alloy covering them, making him realise the kid had played him like a fool again.

\'He is not human! A monster wearing a boy\'s kid, that\'s what he is!\' Smith thought, an unsettling sense of pure terror filling his mind. His body shook, and cold sweat dripped from his forehead as the short kid\'s image distorted in his eyes. His eyes turned a piercing blue color, his height increased to that of a man, and his hair became dark, tied in a ponytail fluttering behind him. \'As monstrous...

No, even more than Gaston!\'

Of course, what terrified him was Julius\' potential, not his actual strength. Yet, all his worries would disappear by sunrise. By night\'s end, Gaston will enact his diabolical plan, and the boy will disappear... forever.

Julius\' image returned to normal as he calmed down, allowing him to see his swollen forearms taking a deep shade of purple. Without a doubt, the bones were shattered, and he could probably not feel anything but pain.

Meanwhile, Julius looked at him, his resentful eyes carrying a trace of sadness. He had lost. He knew it. After all, he couldn\'t even raise his arms anymore.

\'I\'m sorry, mama, big bro. I failed...\' he thought, his lips quivering and trees of frustration welling in his eyes. He had really tried his best but couldn\'t bridge the gap between their experience, equipment, and height.

\'I should have been better...\'

A disheartened tear rolled down his inflated cheek. He hated his weakness.

\'I vow to become stronger and protect my family. Never again, I\'ll face this horrible feeling.\'

A blazing fire burned in his chest as his thoughts wandered, reflecting on what he could have done better.

While Julius lost himself in self-reflection, Smith moved like a ghost, dashing towards the kid and delivering a lightning-quick palm strike at his chin. The kid\'s brain shook like jelly, colliding with his skull\'s walls. The next instant, his eyes lost their shine as his legs buckled powerlessly, making him fall face-first on the snowy ground. He had lost consciousness.

Smith grabbed his body, carried him on his shoulder like a potato sack, and headed back to the carriage with mixed feelings. They had fought for too long. He wasn\'t sure about the exact time since he lost consciousness for a moment but over five minutes passed for sure.

Not planning to waste time in a blind wild goose chase in the vast forest, he threw Julius on the carriage\'s bench and sat on the driver\'s seat, resuming their ride towards the mountains.

"Sight. For what it\'s worth, you protected your mom..." Smith said, massaging his brows in confusion. A part of him admired the boy\'s courage and strength. Yet, a bigger part felt a deep sense of horror each time he gazed at his sleeping figure.

Then, he seized the reins and resumed their travel in the silent night, soon disappearing in the darkness.

*******

After three uneventful hours, Smith entered a cave at the mountain\'s base. Several book-filled libraries, a desk covered by thick stacks of papers and a bed filled the interior, making it a cosy place to live in.

A faint glow illuminated the place with a mysterious yet ominous grey light. Attracted by its source, Smith\'s eyes narrowed before an icy shiver ran down his spine.

Shimmering symbols weaved in an intricate circle filled the ground, accentuating his sense of unease, especially after he took in its ridiculous size. As a knight, anything magic-related felt dangerous to him, and he knew by experience that the larger the thing was, the more harrowing its effects would be.

"Shit..." He muttered, unwilling to spend a second in this place. However, he had to wait for Gaston first. Thus, he dropped the kid on the bed and kept an eye on him, hoping for the madman\'s return to be rapid.

Three tense hours passed in silence when a wrinkly white-haired man, using an elegant guandao as a cane, stumbled at the entrance, alerting him.

With doubtful eyes, he gazed at his blood-covered clothes, punctured eye, and missing left arm. Despite the man\'s terrible wounds, his hair bristled in dread as he saw the eery smile plastered on the man\'s face. No matter how the man\'s appearance changed, he could recognise that smile among thousands.

Then, a realisation struck him. Gaston succeeded in his vengeful campaign against all odds, and even with his ragged appearance, he knew he had no chance to overpower him.

A sigh of relief escaped his lips. He had made the right choice by following his demands. Indeed, besides telling him where the guandao was, Smith was tasked with escorting Julius into this cave in exchange for his life.

Sure, he could have escaped instead, leaving everything behind and starting his life anew somewhere. But why would he go through so much trouble for a kid he didn\'t know? Considering he had a family and didn\'t want to live in fear for years like Lucius had, he promptly chose the easiest solution.

"Well done. You successfully reclaimed your life. Leave," Gaston said, his eye ablaze with a furious intensity as if fueled by an inferno of madness and excitement.