Kael collapsed onto the grass, chest heaving, arms numb from countless staff strikes. The rusty shovel—warped back into its useless, dented form—lay beside him. Sweat soaked his shirt, but his grin never faded.
"Admit it, Grandpa," he wheezed. "I lasted way longer this time."
His grandfather, standing tall despite his age, leaned on his staff. His breathing was calm, steady—like he hadn't just spent the last hour smacking his grandson around.
"You lasted longer because I went easy on you," the old man replied.
Kael groaned and rolled onto his back. "You Etherian Knights are merciless. How do you people even have friends?"
"You talk too much," his grandfather said, but Kael noticed the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
For a moment, silence settled between them, broken only by the wind rustling through the trees. Then Kael sat up, frowning at his gloved hands.
"…Grandpa. Why me?"
The old Knight raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"Why did I end up with this thing?" Kael flexed his fingers, and the gloves pulsed faintly, the fabric shifting as if alive. "Out of everyone in the world, why did these cursed gloves choose me?"
His grandfather's eyes narrowed. "That's the nature of cursed relics. They don't choose based on worthiness… only on compatibility. You carry both the strength—and the chaos—needed to wield them."
Kael scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, well… I was kinda hoping for something less dramatic. Like, I dunno, a frying pan that makes infinite food."
"You don't get to choose destiny," his grandfather said firmly. "But you can choose what you do with it."
Kael was about to crack another joke when a loud snap echoed from the edge of the clearing. Both of them froze.
The bushes rustled. A low growl vibrated through the air.
His grandfather's face hardened instantly. "Kael. Stay behind me."
Kael stood, heart pounding. "Wait, is that—"
The creature burst from the brush before he could finish.
It was a wolf, but not like any normal wolf Kael had seen. Its fur was matted with mud and blood, and its eyes glowed sickly green. Patches of its body shimmered with crystalline spikes jutting from its skin.
His grandfather's grip tightened on his staff. "An F-rank mutant. Strayed too close to the village."
Kael swallowed hard. "I thought you said F-rank monsters were weak."
"They are… if you know what you're doing."
The wolf snarled and lunged. His grandfather moved in a blur, staff slamming into its jaw and knocking it aside. The beast tumbled but sprang back to its feet, saliva dripping from its fangs.
Kael felt the gloves pulse on his hands. His instincts screamed at him. He couldn't just stand there.
"Grandpa—let me try."
The old man shot him a sharp look. "No. You're not ready."
"Maybe not," Kael said, clenching his fists. "But neither was Dad when he faced those monsters, right? If I keep hiding, I'll never be ready."
For a heartbeat, his grandfather hesitated. Then, with a grim nod, he stepped back. "Fine. Show me what you've learned. But if you lose control—"
"I won't."
Kael grabbed a broken fence post from the ground. The gloves surged with energy, twisting the wood into a sleek spear tipped with jagged steel.
The wolf lunged. Kael shouted and thrust the spear forward. The point scraped along the beast's shoulder, sparks flying. The wolf howled in rage, spinning to claw at him.
Kael barely dodged, the claws tearing through his shirt. "Too close!"
He swung the spear wildly, forcing the wolf back. The gloves pulsed harder, as if urging him to give in, to let the chaos flow completely. Kael gritted his teeth.
"No… I'm in control."
With a deep breath, he steadied himself. He focused, not on the wolf's glowing eyes, but on its movements, its rhythm.
The beast lunged again. Kael shifted, thrusting the spear directly into its chest. The impact sent a shock up his arms, and the wolf yelped, collapsing into the dirt.
Kael stumbled back, panting. The spear unraveled back into the broken post, and the gloves pulsed softly, almost satisfied.
For a long moment, silence reigned. Then his grandfather walked over, inspecting the fallen creature. With a nod, he planted his staff into the ground.
"Not bad," he said.
Kael collapsed to his knees, gasping. "Not bad? I just fought a mutant wolf and didn't die! That's, like, at least a B+ effort!"
His grandfather smirked faintly. "You're loud, reckless, and sloppy. But you're alive. That's a start."
Kael grinned despite himself. "So… next time, I get to fight something bigger, right?"
The old Knight's smirk faded. His eyes grew distant, shadowed.
"If fate has its way, Kael… you won't have to wait long."