Chapter 86: The Punching Bag.

’We’re close.’

Ezra tilted his head slightly, looking up at the sky.

The light was fading.

Not naturally.

The clouds above them had turned darker than they should have been for this time of day. A heavy, suffocating gray had spread across the sky, swallowing the sunlight little by little.

Where there were Dark Ones, the sky always changed.

No one fully understood why.

Some researchers claimed it was because the sky reflected the aura of what gathered beneath it. Since the presence of Dark Ones carried an unnatural darkness, the heavens above them mirrored it.

Whether that theory was true or not, Ezra didn’t know.

What he did know was this.

The darker the sky became, the closer the horde was.

And right now, the sky was almost black.

Ezra let out a slow breath and glanced toward the carriage beside him.

Lior was no longer watching from the window.

According to Fizzy, the boy had fallen asleep not long ago.

That should have been comforting.

It meant Ezra wouldn’t have to see Lior’s face when the time came for them to separate.

Still, Ezra’s chest felt heavy.

Very heavy.

That feeling was unfamiliar.

Before missions, he usually felt excitement. The anticipation of battle always stirred something sharp and eager inside him.

But now?

Now his stomach felt tight.

’This is new.’

“Uh… Captain?”

Ezra’s brows furrowed.

He turned his head slightly toward the voice.

’What now?’

It was Silas.

“What do you want, Silas?” Ezra asked, already looking forward again.

Silas flinched.

Ezra noticed it from the corner of his eye.

“Uhm… I just wanted to ask you something,” Silas said carefully.

Ezra felt irritation creeping in.

“Then ask.”

“Oh. Right.” Silas swallowed. “Well… I was wondering if you were… nervous.”

Ezra turned his head.

“What?”

“Are you nervous?” Silas repeated.

Ezra stared at him for a moment.

’Why is he asking me if I’m—’

He stopped himself.

Then he sighed quietly.

“You know what,” Ezra muttered.

He nodded once.

“Yes. I am.”

Silas blinked.

“Really?”

“Yes,” Ezra said. “Is that surprising?”

“Very,” Silas admitted immediately.

Ezra frowned faintly.

“Why?”

Silas shifted slightly in his saddle.

“I heard you never get nervous before battles,” he said. “They say you don’t even break a sweat.”

Ezra blinked slowly.

“Where did you hear that?”

Silas hesitated.

Then his face turned bright red.

“Oh. Uh…”

Ezra waited.

“I’m… kind of a fan.”

Ezra stared at him.

“A… fan?”

“Yes,” Silas said quickly, looking both embarrassed and excited. “You’re the Crimson Fae. When I was in the academy, they told us all about you.”

Ezra felt something strange twist in his chest.

“Ezra Belloren,” Silas continued, almost shy now. “The wonder captain. The strongest captain since Captain Aamon. Some instructors even said you might be smarter than him.”

’Well, I am stronger than that old man.’

Ezra shook his head lightly.

“They actually talked about me in the academy?”

Silas nodded eagerly.

“All the time.”

Ezra studied him for a moment.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

Ezra raised a brow.

“You’re not much younger than me.”

“I know,” Silas admitted. “But because of everything you did… you already have a place in history.”

Ezra looked forward again.

The dark sky stretched endlessly above them.

’History, huh.’

Ezra stayed quiet.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The steady rhythm of hooves against the dirt road filled the space between them, mixed with the creak of carriage wheels and the soft clink of armor shifting with each step.

Silas shifted uneasily in his saddle.

Then he cleared his throat.

“Captain?”

Ezra didn’t look at him.

“Yes?”

Silas hesitated.

“Why?”

Ezra turned his head slightly.

“Why what?”

Silas scratched the back of his neck, clearly unsure how to phrase it.

“Why are you nervous?”

Ezra didn’t answer right away.

His gaze drifted forward again.

The sky above them had darkened even further. Thick clouds swallowed the last traces of light, pressing down over the road like a heavy weight.

The closer they rode toward the horde, the heavier the air felt.

’Why am I nervous?’

The answer came immediately.

’Because I have something to lose now.’

His fingers tightened around the reins without him noticing.

’I have Lior.’

Before, Ezra had never hesitated before a battle. If he died, he died. That was the life of a knight. Simple. Clean.

But now—

’Who will take care of him if I die?’

The thought sat like a stone in his chest.

’Who will protect him?’

Ezra exhaled slowly through his nose.

He could never say that out loud.

Not here.

Not to anyone.

That truth was buried too deep. It was a secret he would kill to protect.

So instead—

Ezra shrugged lightly.

“It’s been a while,” he said.

Silas looked at him.

“It has… been a while since my last real battle,” Ezra continued. “Maybe I’m not the same Crimson Fae anymore.”

His mouth twitched faintly.

“Not that I ever liked that title.”

He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug.

“But who knows.”

Silas nodded slowly.

“Right, Captain… who knows?” he said. “I think you’ll still do great.”

They rode in silence again.

For a few moments, the only sound was the slow march of the column.

Then Ezra glanced sideways at him.

“So.”

Silas blinked.

“So?” he repeated.

Ezra studied him calmly.

“Why did you really approach me?”

Silas stiffened immediately.

“W-What do you mean?”

Ezra raised a brow.

“You think I didn’t notice?” he said evenly. “You didn’t ride up to me just to ask if I was nervous.”

Silas looked away.

His shoulders sank slightly.

Ezra watched him.

’So what is it?’

Silas lowered his gaze, shame flickering across his face. It confirmed what Ezra had already suspected. Silas hadn’t come over just to make conversation.

“…I was hoping,” Silas said quietly.

Ezra waited.

Silas drew in a slow breath, like he needed to gather courage before continuing.

“I was hoping you could talk to Captain Aamon.”

Ezra’s brows slowly pulled together.

Silas shifted in his saddle, his voice growing more uneasy as he spoke.

“You and Captain Aamon are… close.”

Ezra didn’t react outwardly. But he already knew where this was going.

’Of course.’

“And I was wondering if maybe you could convince him to reconsider something.”

Ezra’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Reconsider what?”

Silas swallowed.

“The punishment.”

Ezra stared at him.

Silas hurried on, the words spilling out faster now.

“The four men… uh, they’re my friends,” he said. “The ones who got punished. They… they only did what they thought was best for the Sunward Sentinels.”

Torren Brightblade.

Caelan Fireholt.

Wulfric Dawnhelm.

Jareth Solvane.

Those were the four Silas were asking about.

Ezra said nothing.

Silas finally forced himself to look up.

“Maybe if you asked Captain Aamon to let them go… just this once.”

Ezra kept staring at him.

The silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable.

Silas shifted slightly under the weight of it.

’So that’s how it is,’ Ezra thought, his eyes narrowing faintly. ’Now I know who his bullies were.’

How convenient.

The very men who had obviously turned Silas into their errand boy were the same ones he was trying to defend.

In simpler terms, Silas wasn’t their friend.

He was their squire.

Their punching bag.

And now Ezra knew exactly whose.

“No.”

The word came out flat.

Silas’s eyes widened.

“N-No?”

“No,” Ezra repeated calmly. “They made their mistakes.”

His gaze returned to the road ahead.

“And now they get to deal with the consequences.”

He paused, then added coolly,

“The teams they dragged down with them will likely be venting their frustrations soon enough.”

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