Sein had made a mistake.A huge, thigh-cramping, lung-burning mistake.
His boots slapped against the damp field as the sky bled pale gold, each breath a ragged plea for mercy. Behind him came the frantic stomps of the Laundry Gang—thieves, drunkards, and brawlers now reduced to a single wheezing organism. Ahead, striding as if on a casual stroll, was the so-called Hero Knight.
"Twenty more laps," the knight called, voice bright as sunrise.
Twenty. More. Laps.
A groan rippled through the gang like a death knell. Someone actually whimpered. Sein tasted iron and despair.
The knight didn't even glisten with sweat. His silver beard caught the light like polished steel; his visor shadowed eyes that never blinked. Not a single scuff marked his shirt. If anything, he looked bored.
Hours earlier when the first rays of sun pried open the world they'd all assembled in front of him, still half-asleep, thinking the "training" he promised was just a few sword swings and maybe some stretches. Maybe a lecture on honor. Gods, how wrong they were.
A few hours earlier…
The gang huddled like half-frozen sheep in the tavern yard. Behind them, carpenters were already hammering new beams into the wrecked roof, grumbling about "mysterious knights and their sudden appearance."
Front and center stood the knight, visor down, grin wide enough to shame the morning sun. He swept his gaze over the crowd every bruised, bleary-eyed member of the Laundry Gang, the tavern owner still in his nightshirt and muttering curses, even Max the fire-breathing cat who sat with his tail flicking like a lit fuse.
"Most of you are here," the knight said, voice carrying like a bell. "Most."
A ripple of dread passed through the group.
"Yet," he added, "there are a few missing."
Before anyone could blink, he bent his knees.
BOOM!
The ground cracked beneath him as he launched skyward, a silver streak punching through the low clouds and leaving behind a crater the size of a beer barrel. Dust rolled across the yard, coating everyone in a fine gray mist.
"What....what the hell!" someone yelped.
Sein craned his neck, eyes scanning the pale dawn. "Where did he-....?"
"Maybe… maybe he needs t' take a shite," Ronald offered with a forced, hearty laugh his missing teeth gaps ever more present. He kept glancing left and right, as if the knight might drop from the heavens like an avenging thunderbolt. "Y'know… early morn' constitutionals and all that…"
No one laughed. Everyone just stared at the empty sky, waiting for the inevitable.
Sein didn't even know a human was capable of such a thing. To simply jump and dissappear into the sky. What must someone even go through for them to be able to do that. He chuckled nervously with a sweat on his temple as he thought about. No, they all did.
It was a surprise after another
The yard held its breath.
Then.....SCREEEEEE! A shrill, glass-splitting screech ripped through the morning fog.
Ronald flinched. "Ye hear tha'?!"
Everyone froze, eyes darting. Another wail followed, even higher, wobbling like a goat strangling a flute.
Jayl, the masked thief and self-proclaimed sound expert, stepped forward, tilting his head. "That," he said slowly, "sounds…familiar."
"Familiar how?" Sein asked. Jayl narrowed his eyes, listening hard. "Like a screaming monkey whose breakfast just got stolen by a gold-tooth gorilla."
The gang turned to stare.
"…What?" Sein muttered.
Jayl kept a straight face. "A gold-tooth gorilla. Black Mountain breed. It often steals monkeys breakfasts and they make exactly that noise when it's robbed at dawn. Trust me..I scout things." Before anyone could reply, the screech doubled in volume, echoing across the yard until the tavern shutters rattled.
Jayl raised a finger. "Two of them. Both furious." From somewhere high above, the sound twisted into a duet of pure, unholy racket.
And then....
SCREEEEEEEEE!
The cry came from the sky. Every head snapped upward.
The screech hit a teeth-rattling peak-..SCREEEEEEEEEEEE! and then BOOM!
The ground split with a shock wave that sent hats flying and skirts flapping. Dust mushroomed in the courtyard, a gust of grit stinging every eye.
When the smoke cleared, there he was. The Knight.
Helmet gleaming, grin wide as sunrise, landing in a perfect crouch like he'd just dropped from the heavens for dramatic effect.
In each arm he dangled a limp body: the fat-bellied Lard on his left, the sharp-nosed Thorus on his right both unconscious, arms swinging like overripe fruit.
He straightened, effortless, boots grinding the cracked stone."Found the missing ones," he said, voice bright with mock cheer. The gang just gaped. Their jaws hung wide open and they can't believe their eyes. As they saw the unconscious duo drool coming out of their mouths their expression of complete fear. They were grateful they unlike them decided to attend this mysterious knight training session.
The knight casually throws the both of them into the crowd like some sack of potatoes they hit the ground, everyone stepping away and instinctively refusing to catch them. Their face planted on the floor which caused the both of them to wake up from the pain.
When the dust finally settled and everyone stumbled back into something that almost resembled order, Lard wheezed first."I was just- just going to grab a bite! Next thing I know.....BAM....knight falls from the clouds like some devine revelation kidnapped me and took me here."He clutched his stomach dramatically. "Still hungry, by the way."
Thorus, rubbing the red mark on his forehead where the knight's gauntlet had clearly bonked him mid-abduction, scowled."I wasn't running. I was… strategically relocating. Suspicious tin-can tells us to 'train,' I say no thanks. Next thing WHAM I'm mid-breakfast, whispering sweet nothings to a perfect slice of buttered bread, opened my mouth to take a bite and poof, I'm here."
The gang snickered, but the knight didn't.His visor tilted forward, grin sharp enough to cut stone."Good," he said, voice carrying like a hammer strike. "Now…"
A pause that swallowed every breath."…attack me. With your best shot."
The courtyard froze.
Yesterday evening, when the stranger first appeared, the same grin had glinted under the visor."Go ahead," the knight had said then. "Your best shot. I won't retaliate."Thorus, never one to waste a dare, had swung with all his might and spent the next heartbeat sailing across the tavern like a kicked keg.
Now the words were back, heavier than steel.The knight leaned forward, voice playful and sharp."Come on. Show me again." Thorus's stomach dropped. Breakfast suddenly felt like a distant, unreachable dream.
Everyone stiffened the moment the knight's words landed."Your best attack. Right now."
Thorus's eyes went wide. "Liar!" he barked, jabbing a finger at the visor. "You said that yesterday, and I ended up a human missile!"
A chorus of agreement rose at once."Yeah!" Lard's deep voice boomed. "If we try that, you'll just beat us into the floor again!"Others muttered their protests nobody wanted to be the next projectile.
The knight tilted his head, grin widening. "I'll uphold my honor this time," he said, almost purring. "No tricks. Come at me with everything you've got." Then he pointed, deliberate as a judge. "You first, big man."
Lard's stomach sank. "Me?"
The visor nodded once.
With a resigned grunt, Lard stepped forward. His wide belly swayed with each step, but his eyes sharpened. From across his back he swung down a battle-axe so massive it made the wooden planks groan.
Despite the round frame, no one scoffed. Lard's strength was infamous. A two-circle mana core burned inside him, marking him as a second-class Iron Knight a rank that meant raw power and bone-crushing strikes.The weapon suited him perfectly: unwieldy for most, but deadly in his hands, built for single, decisive blows.
Lard glanced up at the grinning knight. "Promise you won't clobber me?"
"I won't," the knight said lightly.
Memories of lost coins an entire night's earnings swindled in a blink flickered across Lard's mind. His lips curled into a dangerous smile."Good," he rumbled, planting his feet. "Then here I come!"
Lard planted his feet wide, the packed dirt cracking beneath his boots. He inhaled deep, his gut pulling in like a drawn bowstring.
"Stone sinew, iron hide," he muttered, the earth responding with a low tremor. Two glowing brown circles spun to life at his feet, pouring their strength into his muscles until his arms swelled like coiled rope.
A wicked grin spread across his face. "Let's see you laugh this off."
He swung the axe back, mana flaring so hot the edge hummed. Then boom! he launched forward like a cannonball, the blade screaming through the air straight for the knight's helm.
CLANG!
The sound cracked across the courtyard like thunder. Dust kicked up in a ring.
When it cleared, the knight hadn't moved an inch. One gauntleted hand was wrapped casually around the gleaming blade, fingers locked as if holding a child's toy.
Lard's arms trembled, sweat dripping down his temple. "H-how—"
"See?" the knight said, visor hiding his eyes, grin sharp as a blade. "Sloppy."
The knight lifted Lard as though he were a sack of flour, one massive arm locked under the fat man's armpit. Lard's boots dangled a good foot off the ground, his axe still clutched in trembling hands.
"Not even close," the knight said, voice calm, amused. Then with a flick of his wrist he tossed the hefty leader aside. Lard skidded across the dirt like a dropped potato, wheezing.
Every eye turned to the only man who hadn't yet stepped forward.Thorus.
He froze, a cold sweat trickling down his neck. In his head, he was already writing his will, picturing a warm afterlife with bread that never ran out. Please, gods, make it quick.
The knight's visor tilted toward him. "I haven't forgotten your little assassination trick," he said, tone light but edged like steel. "Come forward." Thorus's knees wobbled. "W–with all due respect, Your…uh, Majesty," he stammered, "I'd rather not injure such a fine-..."
"Enough compliments," the knight cut him off, grin widening. "Come at me."
The gang collectively muttered a prayer. Thorus shut his eyes, sucked in a breath, and charged. He drove his fist down with all the desperation of a man who wanted to live.
THUD!
Pain shot through his knuckles. The ground cracked. The knight didn't even sway. "Liar!" everyone collectively thought, echoing the accusation from yesterday. The knight chuckled, visor glinting. "Sloppier than before."
The knight's grin stretched wider, a slash of white beneath the shadow of his visor. He swept his gaze across the entire gang, eyes gleaming like he'd just been handed a banquet menu.
"Well?" he said, voice carrying across the yard. "Don't just stand there gawking. All of you. At once."
A stunned silence fell.
Surely he didn't mean-...He did.
"You heard me," the knight continued, tone sharp. "Hesitating when you have the chance to strike from every side? Pathetic. Weak. Incapable."
The words sliced through them sharper than any blade. Raiyna's grip tightened on her short sword, scarred face hardening. "Did the old man just call us weak?"
Jayl flicked his dagger into a reverse grip. "Sounds like he wants holes in his fancy shirt."
Ronald, already unsheathing both of his battered swords, muttered something in his thick accent that suspiciously sounded like a curse and a prayer rolled together. Behind them, Lard hauled himself upright, battle-axe dragging a furrow in the dirt, while Thorus cracked his sore knuckles with grim resolve. One by one, every gang member found their footing, their pride sparking hotter than their fear.
Raiyna raised her blade and smirked. "Fine. Let's make the old man eat those words."
"Aye!" the rest chorused, fury and determination lighting their eyes. The knight's grin somehow widened even more, as though this was exactly the answer he'd been waiting for.
Lard, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his meaty hand, suddenly straightened."Alright, you heard the old man," he barked, voice booming across the yard. "Heavy hitters front with me. Agile rats like Jayl and that woodpecker Thorus, you circle wide and strike every gap. Anyone with support spells, cast 'em now. Raiyna, back the heavies. Ron, you and I lead the charge."
The gang blinked at him then began to move. Jayl twirled his dagger and shot Thorus a sharp grin. "Guess that's us, birdbrain."
Thorus muttered, "Don't call me that," but slipped into a low stance all the same.
Raiyna raised her short sword, the faint shimmer of a reinforcement spell flickering around her arms. Ronald cracked his neck with a grin, dual blades humming faintly as mana coursed through them. Around them, others muttered spells under their breath, the air thickening with the raw buzz of magic.
The knight tilted his head, that wide grin never fading. "Good," he said, almost approving. "That's the kind of plan I like to hear. Now let's see if you can actually pull it off."
His gauntleted fingers flexed once, the sound of metal on leather carrying through the tense air."Come on then," he added softly, a glint of challenge in his voice. "Show me you're worth waking up for."
The knight planted his boots firmly in the dirt, folded his arms, and let his grin stretch just a bit too wide."Here's a deal," he said, voice carrying across the yard. "Move me from this spot just an inch and you win. I walk out of Laundry Town and never bother you again."
A collective gasp swept the gang.
"But," he added, visor glinting as his smile edged into something almost sinister, "if you lose, you'll follow my every order. No complaints. No excuses."
The silence that followed was so sharp it could cut steel. Several gang members exchanged worried looks.
Someone whispered, "That's insane…"
Another muttered, "Maybe we...."
"Shut it," Lard barked, his belly jiggling as he stepped forward, battle-axe resting heavy across his shoulder. "You want freedom? We take it. We've always done what we gotta do to survive. This is no different."
His words lit a fire under them. The fear on their faces hardened into grim determination. Raiyna's eyes narrowed like drawn blades. Jayl spun his dagger, the metallic twirl echoing the thud of hearts. Even Thorus clenched his fists, muttering a curse at destiny.
The knight chuckled, the sound low and amused. "That's more like it."
Without another word, the gang exploded into motion. Lard charged first, a mountain of muscle and mana, his axe shimmering with earthen reinforcement. Beside him thundered Narco, a hulking brute in a battered viking helmet, his own massive axe raised high.
Above them, Ronald leapt with a howl, air magic wreathing his feet and twin swords. He arced through the morning light like a deadly hawk, blades poised to descend on the grinning knight below.
The knight didn't even flinch as the gang descended. He planted his sword still sheathed into the dirt beside him, the steel humming faintly.
Lard and Narco struck first, their twin battle-axes slicing down like falling comets. With a smooth, almost lazy motion, the knight raised both hands and caught the blades mid-swing. Sparks spat from the impact, but his stance didn't shift an inch.
"Too slow," he murmured.
A blur of motion flashed above. Ronald, air magic roaring around his boots, dove like a hawk.The knight simply rolled his shoulder and drove a single punch upward into Ronald's gut.WHAM.The young swordsman shot backward through the air, wheezing.
From behind Lard's bulk, a tall fighter with long black hair burst forth, spear poised for a lethal thrust. The knight's hand snapped out, snaring the shaft before it reached him. With a twist and a flick, he hurled the man aside as though he weighed nothing.
Jayl and Thorus darted in next, twin daggers flickering like silver lightning. The knight stepped between them, seized their wrists mid-strike, and clanged their foreheads together with a crack before tossing them in opposite directions.
Only then did Raiyna appear silent as moonlight materializing at his back. For the first time, the knight's grin slipped. He pivoted, yanking his still sheated sword free just in time to intercept her upward slash.
"Well now," he said, eyes narrowing with a flicker of real interest. "Out of all of you…you might have the most potential."
Raiyna smirked, breathless. "Thanks for the compliment."
Her free hand flared with heat "but you're done old man!"FWOOM! a point-blank fireball blossoming in her palm as she launched it straight at his chest.
The smoke rolled across the training field, a heavy gray curtain that stung their eyes and throats.Every gang member held their breath, hearts hammering, waiting for even the faintest sign that Raiyna's spell had worked.
A breeze shifted. Through the thinning haze a tall silhouette emerged broad-shouldered, utterly unmoved.
The outline sharpened: the curve of his sword, the set of his shoulders. Then the grin. That same maddening grin, brighter than the rising sun.
When the last wisp of smoke cleared, he was standing exactly where they'd left him. Not a speck of ash on his cloak. Not a single step taken. Silence crushed the yard.
Raiyna swallowed hard. He didn't move… not even a hair.
A shiver passed through the gang like a wave. Raiyna, still coughing from her own spell, lowered her sword and stared.
The man was a monster. There was no other word for it. One by one, the fighters dropped their guard, every last one of them arriving at the same unspoken truth:
The man was a monster
Lard dragged himself upright, battle-axe hanging heavy in his hand.Through the blinding sunrise the knight stood like a carved pillar, shadow and light wrapped around that maddening grin.
A dry laugh escaped Lard's throat half disbelief, half surrender.His mana was gone. His arms trembled. The words I give up were already forming.
"We're not done yet," the knight said.
The words cracked across the yard like a whip. Heads snapped up. Confusion rippled through the gang.
"What?" Lard croaked, voice hoarse. "You already won. We-..."
"Because you're still sloppy," the knight interrupted, tone almost casual."This time you'll fight me again...." his grin sharpened, "...without magic."
For a heartbeat no one breathed.
Raiyna blinked. "Without… magic?"
"That's impossible," Jayl blurted. Raiyna shook her head, sweat plastering her hair to her cheek. "We'd last seconds."
The knight only planted his sword back into the earth and spread his arms. "Then show me what you've got without hiding behind circles."
The demand hung in the morning air, outrageous and immovable, and every member of the Laundry Gang felt the chill of it crawl down their spine. The knight's grin widened until it felt like a threat all on its own. "Every. Single. One of you," he said, voice low but carrying. "Attack me. Now."
For a moment the yard went silent until the innkeeper squeaked, "E-even me?"The knight turned his visor toward the man. "Especially you."
A nervous ripple passed through the gang. "If you don't come at me," the knight added, eyes glinting, "I'll come to you. And trust me you won't like that."
That did it.
Weapons scraped free. Chairs clattered over. Even the fire-breathing cat hissed like it understood the order.
"No magic," the knight barked. "Anyone uses a circle, you'll regret it."
They hesitated then, realizing there was no escape, surged forward in a chaotic wave. Lard led the charge with a roar, Raiyna close behind, Ronal and Jayl darting at the flanks, the innkeeper flailing with a broom as if it were a spear.
The knight moved like a storm given human shape. Every strike, every grab, every casual twist of his body sent someone flying. Raiyna found herself flipped neatly into a haystack;Lard was shoved aside as t hough his weight meant nothing; Ronald's dual blades were plucked from his hands like toys. Thorus, sweating and desperate, slipped a spark of mana into his next punch.
The knight's head snapped toward him. "I warned you."
A blur of motion then wham! Thorus slammed into the dirt so hard the ground shook. Flat on his back, he croaked a tiny, pained "Sorry…" The knight brushed imaginary dust from his sleeve, grin undimmed.
The knight turned, visor catching the dawn light, and spotted Sein. The skinny red-haired boy froze, brown eyes wide.
"You," the knight said, pointing a gauntleted finger. "Come here."
Sein stammered, "I–I've never fought anyone before-.."
From the ground Lard wheezed, rubbing his bruised side. "He's right, sir. Sein can't fight.He's our new recruit. Kid's green as grass."
The knight tilted his head, almost puzzled. "Then why join a rowdy gang if you can't fight?"
Sein's hands shook as he clutched the battered sword Lard had given him on his first day."I… I wanted…" The words wouldn't come. "A boy like you," the knight said evenly, "should be in school. Or playing. Not bleeding in a tavern yard."
The statement hit harder than a punch. Sein's jaw tightened. He ground his teeth, a spark of defiance flickering behind the fear. Slowly deliberately he drew the blade. It quivered in his grip, but he raised it all the same, the trembling edge catching the morning sun.
Lard groaned as he pushed himself upright, wiping dust from his face. "Ah, Knight… probably shouldn't have said that," he muttered, watching Sein's jaw tighten.
Sein's teeth ground so hard it was almost a growl. A family. That word echoed like a spark in his chest foreign, strange, but warm. He remembered the night he'd stumbled into the gang, soaked from rain, when Lard clapped a heavy arm around his shoulders and said, You're part of the family now.
The Laundry Gang was all he had. And now, when his moment to prove he belonged finally arrived, he found himself trembling.Fear made him furious.
The knight's calm voice cut through the morning air. "You should go home, boy."
Raiyna stepped forward, her short sword lowered. "Sir, maybe… maybe go easy on him? He's just a kid."
Sein shook his head sharply. "No." his voice wavered, but the word landed like steel. "I've got this."
He tightened his grip on the sword Lard's gift, perfectly sized for him, the first thing anyone had ever given him that meant you matter.
The knight's grin widened, shadowed by the rising sun. He seemed a mountain of iron, unmovable and immense. Sein's heart pounded, but he lifted the blade until it caught the light. Today he would show them all show himself that he could stand, shake or not.
The knight tilted his head, visor catching the early sun. "Come then, boy. Show me what you've got."
Sein swallowed, voice small but steady. "I don't know magic. I don't know swordsmanship…"He raised the blade anyway. "…but I know how to lift a sword. And I'll lift it against any enemy in my way."
That look raw, stubborn fire lit something in the knight's chest. What a strange boy, he thought, grin sharpening. "Sein, no!" Lard's warning cracked through the air, but the boy was already moving.Feet pounding, heart hammering, he charged.
His swing was wild, desperate and the knight vanished.
Gasps shot through the gang. A heartbeat later, steel whispered behind Sein's ear. The knight's blade hovered at the back of his neck.
No smile now. Only a hard, quiet stare. Raiyna lunged forward, panic flashing. Lard's jaw clenched. Nobody dared breathe.
"Courage," the knight said, voice low and cutting, "even when you're afraid that's good."His sword stayed poised, gleaming cold. "But courage without a plan? That's suicide. And it adds nothing to the table but death."
Sein trembled, eyes locked on the ground. and then A flicker in his mind. A memory blurred by time.
My brave boy… you must survive.
His breath hitched, tears pricking. Raiyna stepped behind him, resting a gentle hand on his head. "You did fine, Sein," she whispered.
The boy's knees gave out. The sword slipped from his grasp and clattered to the dirt.
Even Thorus, usually smirking, stayed silent. The knight slowly slid his own blade back into its scabbard and knelt, visor level with Sein's wide, wet eyes. "Next time," he said, voice soft but firm, "I'll teach you how to be brave and to think while you're at it."
The knight's grin never faltered as he swept his gaze across the bruised and panting gang."Do you know what you are?" he asked.
Silence.
"Then I'll say it for you," he went on, voice ringing like a hammer on steel. "Weak. All of you. You call yourselves the biggest gang of a town no one's even heard of, and you've got nothing to show for it."
Anger flickered in their eyes, but heads dropped. They couldn't deny it.
"You're pathetic," he said, calm as a blade. "Uncoordinated. You don't know your limits. Strength is fine but what happens when you face someone stronger? Someone like me? What if you stare death in the eye? How will you survive then?"
No one answered. Even Sein, still kneeling, kept his eyes fixed on the dirt.
"You fight sloppy," the knight continued. "The moment you tossed discipline aside, you forgot the one thing that keeps people alive."
Lard's jaw clenched. With a sharp clatter he hurled his battle-axe to the ground."I know," he growled. "I know we're weak. I know we don't amount to much. We come from a town people forget to even put on their maps. Of course I know."He looked up, eyes fierce. "That's why we struggle. Because no one else will help us. So you can say whatever you like, but I'll still believe in my people. We are capable."
The knight tilted his head, visor glinting. Then, in a quiet echo of his earlier lesson, he said,"Courage is good. When death stares you down, courage is what drives the will to grow stronger and survive. But courage without a plan…" His grin sharpened. "…is just stupid."
The words hung heavy in the air. "That's why I'm here," he declared, raising one gauntleted fist skyward. "To show you. To break your limits. To make you stronger than this."
The grin blazed bright beneath his visor. One by one, battered and aching, the gang dropped to their knees. After the beating they'd taken, none could deny the truth. If someone like this knight was willing to teach them how to live how to fight and endure then they would follow.
Sein raised his head, still breathing hard. "Why?" he asked, voice thin but steady. "Why…are you willing to go this far for us?"
The knight went quiet. The grin softened just enough to show thought behind the visor."Because everyone deserves a chance," he said at last. Then his voice sharpened. "So tell me, are you stupid enough not to take it?"
Sein swallowed. "No. I will."
"Good." The knight straightened, shadows of dawn cutting across his silver beard. "So if you really want to know why…"
Every bruised body around him tensed, ears straining for the revelation.
The knight spread his arms. "Because…" A long pause. Then the grin returned, wide and wolfish.
"…I have a story to tell."
There was a collective blink. "…What a load of bullshit," someone muttered under their breath. But despite the groans and eye rolls, more than a few of them found themselves smiling.
Back to the present
The sun sat high enough to burn the mist off the hills, but its warmth brought no comfort. Sweat pooled on the tavern's wooden walkway, each plank thudding beneath the frantic steps of the Laundry Gang. They had been running circles around the tavern for nearly two straight hours.
At the head of the pack, the so-called hero knight kept a pace that would break a horse. His visor glinted with every stride, his grin never faltering. Not a single bead of sweat marked his silver-bearded face.
Behind him? Chaos.
Sein gasped like a drowning fish, legs screaming. Lard's heavy boots pounded the boards with the rhythm of a collapsing bridge. Ronald wheezed in his odd accent, cursing under his breath. Raiyna's braid was soaked and clung to her neck like a wet rope.
And Thorus....oh, poor Thorus.
Bruises bloomed across his arms and a black eye shone like a medal of shame, proof of how many times he'd tried to sneak a bit of mana into his legs for speed. Every time he did, the knight seemed to sense it instantly. A flick of the knight's sword-still-in-its-scabbard, and thwack another welt for the would-be cheater.
"NO mana," the knight called over his shoulder, voice maddeningly cheerful. "Use it again, Thorus, and I'll start counting laps backward!"
Thorus wheezed something that might have been an apology or a dying curse.
From the far edge of the tavern walkway, a young girl stepped into view her ginger hair reflecting the morning sun and her freckles ever so noticeable. She carried an envelope with a letter in her hand, intending nothing more heroic than a morning delivery to deliver a message to the laundry tavern. Her stride faltered as the strange parade thundered past: a silver-bearded knight leading a panting gang of battered misfits in endless circles.
The woman blinked, trying to make sense of the sight. The knight flashed her a broad, dazzling smile as he sprinted by. The gang, too exhausted to speak, only stared back with silent, desperate eyes that screamed help.
"What… in the world… is happening?" she whispered, clutching her basket as the bizarre procession roared on, the knight's laughter echoing across the quiet morning.