Aren stood up slowly, brushing the dirt from his clothes. He glanced at the smiling blade beside him, then turned his eyes toward the direction of the smell.
"Who's cooking out there? Could there be a camp nearby? Or maybe… Amira, did you come back and bring some men to catch me off guard?" he muttered, his mind already working through every possible trap.
He gripped the smiling blade firmly, his steps cautious but steady. Even after completing Rank Two, he knew better than to let his guard down. He had learned the hard way ; anyone could betray him.
The scent grew stronger as he neared the tower. He slowed, each step more careful than the last.
"Yeah… Amira, you came back again, didn't you?" he whispered, his eyes narrowing as he moved closer, ready to fight whoever waited for him.But when he stepped out from behind the brush, what he saw left him frozen.
There she was ; Valerie. She sat quietly near a small fire, turning a spit with a beaver roasting over it. The flames licked at the meat, and the smell filled the air, sharp and savory.Aren and Valerie locked eyes, both silent for a moment, the tension hanging thick between them.
"Hey boy, you're hungry, go get some," the smiling blade teased in his mind, its tone almost playful.
Aren scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm not. And I'm not eating her food," he snapped, brushing past Valerie without another word.
He stormed into the tower, searching the corner where he had kept his meat from the last hunt. But when he got there, he froze again. It was gone.
"What? But I left it right here… Who took it?" he shouted, frustration bursting out.The blade hummed lazily. "Could be the mice, or maybe another small animal. You know they slip in all the time," it said.
Aren clenched his fists, his stomach twisting with hunger. "Mice… or another animal? Seriously…"
"Then just eat hers," the blade suggested calmly, almost like it was stating the weather.
Aren turned, glaring at the blade as if it were a person. "Hey! I know there's something you're hiding from me. You want me to eat her food? You think I don't know? She might have poisoned it. Then boom — I'm dead. No way. I'll stay hungry or hunt another game myself," he said, his voice sharp but his eyes already dull from exhaustion.
The blade let out what sounded like a soft chuckle. "Last time, I helped you catch that Grass cutter But today… nah. You're on your own. So maybe, just maybe, you should eat hers."
Aren rolled his eyes and laughed bitterly. "Ha! I knew you'd bring that up. You… you're letting her spin your mind! Or maybe she has some kind of charm magic. If she does, you're already gone but am still standing."
He pointed a shaky finger at the blade. "But me? I'm not falling for it. Not today."
Outside, Valerie turned the beaver slowly, her eyes flicking toward the tower every now and then. She said nothing, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips ;sad, almost resigned.Aren stood there for a while, staring at the empty spot where his meat had once been, his stomach rumbling louder with each passing second.
"Ugh… This day keeps getting worse," he muttered under his breath.
Valerie stepped closer, tears forming in her eyes again . "Why are you treating me like this?" she cried, her voice breaking.
The Smiling Blade sighed deeply. "You've made her cry again… go apologize," it urged softly.
Aren felt something shift inside him, a warmth spreading through his chest. His eyes locked onto hers — sad, glimmering, almost pulling him in like a quiet spell.
They stood like that, the air thick and silent, until finally, Aren dropped his gaze, his voice rough and low.
Aren swallowed hard, forcing the words out.
"Am… erh… am sorry," he said quietly.
"But… I can't trust you."
Valerie's eyes shimmered with tears, her fingers twisting together nervously."
Just then, a sudden rustle echoed from the nearby bushes. Leaves shook violently, and a dark shape darted through the undergrowth.
Aren's breath caught. He gripped the Smiling Blade tighter, muscles tense.
"Wait… did you see that?" he whispered, eyes fixed on the trembling shadows.