The Princess’s Warden

I don't really remember how it came to this—how my morning routine now included exercise with five goblin-ugly degenerates trying to kill a little girl of obvious nobility.

The forest floor was littered with bodies, the air thick with the scent of blood and sweat. Evidence of Resonance Skills scarred the earth—shattered bark, singed leaves, lingering shadows twisting unnaturally.

Without turning, I sidestepped the attack—a surge of shadowy fangs erupting from the gruff man with wild, unwashed hair and twin black daggers.

Unfortunate for him, I've got eyes at the back of my head. Figuratively speaking, of course.

His balance faltered when his surprise attack missed, and I didn't waste the opening. I danced past the next volley—an archer's arrow narrowly grazing my ear—and the vines snapping at my legs like hungry serpents. My blade found its mark first.

The shadow-wielder's eyes went wide as steel pierced his neck. Blood bubbled and choked his words, his body slumping to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

The remaining four shifted, uneasy now. Realization sank in. Whatever assumptions they'd made—that I was an innocent, unfortunate soul dragged into their mess—had shattered the moment my blade tasted blood.

Unfortunate for them, they were right. At least about the innocent part.

"Who the hell are you?" one of them growled, his voice rasping with nerves.

I didn't bother to answer. Words were wasted on cretins like these.

Instead, I glanced at the girl—curled on the ground beside her mother's body. She was trembling, her tear-streaked face buried against the lifeless woman's chest. Her thin frame was exposed to the cold air, and I didn't need to imagine the horror she'd witnessed.

Her mother—at least, I assumed they were blood—stared blankly into nothing, her broken body left as evidence of their fun.

The archer broke the silence, her voice sharp and commanding. "Enough games. Kill him and be done with it."

She loosed an arrow the same moment I moved. My Resonance Skill flared—Absolute Detection—and her movements betrayed her before she even shifted her weight.

Time narrowed to a pinpoint. My dagger was already flying.

She barely had time to inhale before the blade pierced her eye. The impact sent her sprawling, bow falling uselessly from dead fingers.

"Two down," I muttered, my voice low and flat.

The last three froze, their confidence turning to brittle fear. Good. They deserved it.

**

Suffice to say, none of them were alive by the time I was finished.

Slowly and tentatively, I walked up to the frail girl.

"Hey, it's over now." I said gently, I took off my black coat and covered the woman's naked body with it.

I glanced at the dead soldiers, still clad in their suits of armor. The carriage they had been riding was overturned, smoke curling from its scorched remains. It was charred and blackened, the damage unmistakably caused by a powerful fire-based Resonance Skill.

This attack wasn't done by those five buffoons. It was done by someone else and it was an ambush, a planned attack.

Whatever was going on, I have gotten myself involve in something dangerous.

The sobbing girl with blonde hair, did not move, just constantly crying with dead eyes.

"Come on. Let's get out of here." I told her gently whine urging her up with my hands.

The girl immediately buried her face in my bosom. I was shock at first but eventually I let her hugged me and I patted her back gently.

**

We didn't speak as we made our way through the forest.

The Eldergrove Expanse stretched endlessly around us, its towering trees blocking most of the light, leaving everything cloaked in shadowy green. The air was damp and heavy, carrying the smell of moss and earth. Twisting roots jutted up from the ground, making every step careful and deliberate.

We weren't far from the main road now—the safer path that would lead us out of the forest. But for the moment, the stillness clung to us like fog, broken only by our footsteps.

A few moments ago, a Bristlethorn Lynx had leapt from the brush. My Resonance Skill—Absolute Detection—warned me before it even appeared. One throw was all it took, my dagger finding its mark with practiced ease. The Lynx hadn't stood a chance.

The girl stayed close to my side, her small hand clutching my sleeve as if letting go might shatter her. She hadn't said a word since I found her. She hadn't looked at the Lynx, either.

I slowed to a stop beside the dead creature. "We need to keep moving soon," I said gently, crouching beside it. "But first, I'm going to take the fur. It's worth a lot, and leaving it would be a waste."

She didn't reply—just tightened her grip and stared at the ground, her blonde hair falling in front of her face. She looked so small, so lost, and it made my chest ache.

I hesitated, then softened my tone. "It's okay. You don't have to look. Just... stay close and keep your eyes on me, alright?"

Still nothing. But she didn't pull away, and that was enough.

I sighed, more to myself than anything, and pulled out my blade. "This won't take long. I promise."

She stayed beside me, quiet and unmoving, while I worked. I could feel her presence—fragile but determined—as though staying close was the only thing keeping her together.

The forest remained quiet, but not in a peaceful way. It was the kind of silence that always made me keep one hand near my weapon.

"Once we're on the road, we'll get you somewhere safe," I said softly, almost as if speaking to the air. "You don't have to worry anymore."

There was still no answer, but I thought I caught the faintest movement—her head dipping ever so slightly.

Good enough for now.

**

It was night. Not a single star pierced the sky—the dense foliage of the Eldergrove Expanse saw to that. The darkness here was thicker than in any open space, oppressive and absolute.

Fortunately, making a fire was simple enough. I pulled out my Emberstone, struck it against the edge of my dagger, and watched as the sparks danced into the tinder I'd prepared. The dry twigs caught instantly, flames crackling to life.

The girl sat close beside me, silent as ever. Her blonde hair hung over her face, shielding her expression.

I'd managed to catch a Duskrabbit before we stopped. It was foraging—minding its own business, really—but prey doesn't get a choice. The moment it noticed me, it darted, trying to vanish into the underbrush. Useless against my skill. With Absolute Detection, I could read every shift in its muscles, every twitch of its body. I saw where it would go before it knew itself.

A flick of my knife ended the chase. Dinner was served.

Now the rabbit's meat roasted over the fire, juices sizzling and crackling as the flames licked at it. Beside me sat the Bristlethorn Lynx's fur, cleaned and ready. I'd use it as a blanket tonight. The girl could take my sleeping bag—I didn't mind.

"Hungry?" I asked gently, glancing at her.

Silence. Of course.

I turned back to the fire, shifting the rabbit slightly. "Don't worry. It'll be done soon. Duskrabbit's meat is something special—tender and sweet. You'll like it."

She didn't respond, but I wasn't surprised. The absolute silence gnawed at me, so I filled it. Talking seemed better than letting the darkness creep back in.

"Have you ever heard the stories about this place?" I asked. I didn't expect an answer, so I continued anyway. "They say there's a path deeper in the forest that only shows up at night. Looks inviting—flowers glowing faintly, like a fairy trail. But it leads nowhere. People who follow it just... disappear."

I chuckled softly, shaking my head. "Probably nonsense, right? But I've never felt like this forest likes people much."

The stories passed the time. The rabbit cooked through, its smell warm and rich, pulling me back to the moment. I pulled a leg off the carcass, handed it to her. She took it silently, without looking up.

Satisfied, I grinned and bit into my share. The meat was perfect—juices and tenderness assaulting my taste buds like a small miracle. I couldn't hold back a muffled moan of pleasure. "By the gods... that's good."

If she thought I was ridiculous, she didn't say so.

We ate in quiet, save for the crackling fire and the occasional rustle of leaves in the dark. Once we finished, I reached for the sleeping bag and handed it to her. "Here," I said, offering it. "You'll sleep better in this."

She refused. Instead, she moved closer, small hands clutching my arm. Before I could say a word, she leaned against me, her breathing slowing as sleep took hold.

I sat there, momentarily bewildered, watching her head rest against my shoulder. But it made sense. Who would want to be alone after all that?

I sighed quietly, shifting just enough to let her rest comfortably while I draped the Lynx's fur over myself. Two more days. That's all it would take to reach the city.

For now, though, I let the fire burn low and the forest settle back into its strange silence.