Chapter 12 – My Master Knows Everything 【Part 2】

My master was waiting for me.

The third cabin was just ahead, a simple box of dark wood nestled among the ancient trees. The air here was thicker, heavy with the mountain’s power. I shifted the underworld boy on my shoulder and walked toward the door, which stood slightly ajar. A single sliver of light cut through the gloom.

I stepped inside. The cabin was sparse. A weapon rack stood against one wall, holding a few perfectly maintained blades. A simple cot was pushed against the other. The room smelled of clean wood, oiled steel, and something else. Tension.

I gently laid the boy, Reiji, onto the cot. His face was pale, his breathing still shallow. He looked even more pathetic in the clean, orderly space of the cabin. A weed brought into a garden.

A floorboard creaked behind me.

I spun around, my hand instinctively going to the hilt of my sword. My master stood in the doorway, a silent silhouette against the fading light. A simple white bandage was wrapped around his eyes, but I felt his gaze pass over me, then lock onto the boy on the cot. Siegfried’s whole body was tense, a coiled spring of old hatred. His hand rested on the pommel of his own blade.

“Master.”

I bowed my head, standing at perfect attention.

“Leo. Report.”

His voice was a low rasp, like stones grinding together. It was the voice of a man who had forgotten how to speak of anything but war and betrayal.

“The mission was a success. I have retrieved the sacred blade.”

I patted the cloth-wrapped sword at my hip.

“And the one it chose?”

His head tilted toward the cot.

“He is… here, Master.”

Siegfried took a slow step into the room. The floorboards groaned under his weight. He did not approach the boy. He kept his distance, as if proximity might be a contagion.

“What did you learn of their world?”

I thought of the alley. The pathetic bullies and the frightened, weak boy who only became strong when the Master’s blade took over.

“That world is weak, Master. Very weak. Bordering on ridiculous.”

I paused, choosing my next words carefully. My master’s hatred for the lower world was legendary.

“With all due respect, they are no threat. Their fighters are clumsy. Their spirit is fragile. They do not know how to properly wield a sword.”

A grim, humorless smile touched Siegfried’s lips. It was a terrifying sight.

“You are young, Leo. You saw a beginner’s city. A playground designed to keep children from hurting themselves.”

He took another step, his shadow falling over me.

“What you saw is not their strength. It is their deception. They show you weakness while they sharpen their knives in the dark. I made the same mistake you did. I thought their praise was genuine. I thought their smiles were real.”

His hand tightened on his sword, his knuckles turning white. The air in the cabin grew cold.

“I was a ‘hero’ to them, you know. They built statues of me. They wrote songs about my victories. They held a parade in my honor after I defeated their greatest enemy.”

He turned his bandaged face toward me. I could feel the phantom gaze burning into my soul.

“And when the cheering was loudest, when my back was turned, the very same people I had saved cornered me. They held me down. And they carved out my eyes with a rusty dagger because they feared my power.”

Silence filled the room, thick and heavy. He was speaking of the day he met our Great Master. The day he was saved from death and given a new purpose.

“So you listen to me, Leo. If you let your guard down, they will strike you. They will smile, and they will betray you. That is their way.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. I was ashamed of my own naivete.

“I understand, Master. I will not forget again.”

“Good.”

He finally turned his attention back to the boy on the cot. His expression was one of utter disdain.

“He cannot ascend the mountain like this. He smells of their weakness. It would be a disgrace to our faction. A disgrace to the Great Master himself.”

He looked back at me, his order unspoken but perfectly clear.

“You will stay here with him. You will train him in the basics.”

“Master?”

“You will teach him how to stand. How to breathe the air on this mountain without choking on it. You will teach him what it means to hold a blade forged by a god.”

His decision was absolute. I was no longer a disciple returning from a mission. I was a babysitter. An instructor for a weakling.

“When I deem him worthy, he may begin his climb up the mountain. Not a moment before.”

Siegfried said nothing more. He simply turned, his form melting back into the shadows of the doorway. He was gone as quickly and as silently as he had appeared.

The tension in the air vanished with him.

Silence returned to the cabin. It was just me and the unconscious boy. My mission was not over. It had just changed into something far more frustrating.

It was time to begin.