The Arrival
The village of Orvale was gone. Only ashes remained, and the faint cries of survivors being carried from the rubble. Smoke lingered in the air like a veil, blotting out the sun's warmth. Kaen walked with Riku at his side, Daren leaning heavily on his other friend as they moved toward safer ground.
And then — the silence was broken.
From the eastern edge of the ruined village came the thunder of boots.
Dozens of armored figures emerged from the haze, their formation disciplined, their armor gleaming even under the ash-filled sky. They weren't ordinary soldiers. Each step they took carried weight. Purpose. Power.
The villagers stopped what they were doing. Injured men lifted their heads. Children clutched at their mothers' arms, eyes widening in awe.
Kaen froze too. His chest tightened.
The Special Squad…
He had heard of them only in stories — warriors who fought not to survive, but to protect, trained to face beasts ordinary men couldn't even dream of confronting. And now they were here, walking through the ruins like figures carved from steel and legend.
At their head walked a man unlike the rest.
The Leader
He was tall — broader than any soldier Kaen had ever seen, his presence alone commanding silence from the crowd. His armor was not as polished as the others; it bore scars, dents, and deep scratches. Proof of countless battles survived.
On his back was a massive sword, almost taller than Kaen himself, its sheath worn down from use. His face carried lines of age, not from weakness, but from wisdom carved through struggle. His gaze was sharp, cutting through the air like steel — calm, steady, but undeniably fierce.
The villagers whispered his name like a prayer.
"That's him… the Hunter of Blades…"
"Leader of the Special Squad… Lord Aric."
"They say he once killed a Titan-class dinosaur alone."
"No… more than that. They say he could cut a beast in two with a single strike."
Kaen's breath caught in his throat.
He couldn't look away.
This was no story. This was the man himself.
The Guiding Flame
Aric's voice broke through the murmurs — deep, commanding, yet filled with warmth.
"Men. Women. Children. You've endured the storm and survived. That alone makes you stronger than you believe."
He raised his hand, signaling his squad. "Help the injured. No one is left behind. Not today. Not ever."
The soldiers immediately scattered, moving with practiced precision. Some lifted rubble with their bare hands to pull survivors free. Others bandaged wounds with swift skill. A few carried the children on their backs, whispering soft reassurances as they walked.
The villagers looked on with tears in their eyes. Hope, fragile but real, returned to their faces.
Aric knelt beside an old man whose leg was bleeding, ripped cloth tied in a poor attempt to stop it. With gentle hands, he tied the wound tighter, his massive frame somehow moving with delicate care.
"You'll live, old one," he said, voice steady. "And when you do, you'll teach the young how to endure. That's your duty now."
The old man nodded, tears spilling down his cheeks.
Kaen's heart clenched.
This was not just strength. This was something deeper. Strength with purpose. Strength for others.
The Whispers of the Past
As the squad worked, the villagers gathered in small clusters, whispering stories of Aric's past.
"When he was only sixteen, they say he hunted beasts larger than houses…"
"He was merciless against dinosaurs. None could stand before his blade."
"They say he once faced a pack alone — and when the dust cleared, only his sword was standing."
"Ruthless… yes. But never without reason. He fights so others don't have to."
Kaen listened silently, every word carving itself into his mind.
Riku glanced at him, noticing the way his fists clenched, the way his jaw tightened. "Kaen… are you okay?"
He nodded slowly, though his voice trembled. "He's… everything I want to be."
A Dream Born
Kaen's mind drifted back to his mother's dying words.
"You will always be… my ember."
For the first time, he felt the ember stir again. The stone he had picked up earlier still sat in his pocket, glowing faintly as if in response.
He looked at Aric — at the way people's eyes shone with hope when they saw him, at the way his soldiers saved lives without hesitation.
Kaen whispered, almost to himself, "I want to be like him. No… I will be like him. I'll join the Special Squad."
Riku looked at him sharply, her eyes widening.
"Kaen… after everything you've been through… are you sure?"
His voice was steady, unwavering.
"If I have the strength… then no one else has to lose what I lost. If I can fight… then maybe I can protect."
Daren, though weak, smiled faintly through his pain.
"Sounds like you've finally found your path… Kaen."
The weight of his words settled into the group, unspoken but powerful.
The March
As the day stretched on, Aric gathered the villagers. His voice carried over the crowd.
"This village is no more. But you are alive — and so long as you breathe, you can rebuild. There is another settlement west of here, fortified and safe. We march there together. No one will be left behind."
The villagers nodded, gathering what little they had left. Mothers carried children on their backs. Fathers supported the elderly. Soldiers lifted the wounded into makeshift stretchers.
Kaen and his friends joined in, helping where they could. Riku supported Daren, who leaned heavily on her shoulder, while Kaen helped lift a young boy whose leg had been broken.
As they moved, Kaen stole one last glance at Aric, who walked at the front of the formation, his sword gleaming faintly in the fading light. His figure was unyielding, like a shield before the storm.
The caravan of survivors moved slowly across the ruined land. Behind them, Orvale smoldered in silence — a memory burned into ash. Ahead of them, uncertainty stretched into the horizon.
But for the first time since the night of fire, Kaen didn't feel lost.
He walked forward, the ember in his heart glowing brighter with each step.
He whispered, so only he could hear:
"Someday… I'll stand where he stands. And I'll make sure no one else ever has to cry the way I did."
The wind carried his words, soft and fleeting, but the ember within burned on.