The Luxro household was unusually quiet that evening.
Soft golden light spilled from the windows, illuminating the yard where the wind whispered through tall grass. The forest beyond stood dark and watchful, its presence pressing close—as if listening.
Fark Luxro removed his boots near the entrance, his movements slow, almost weary. The day had been long. Too long. Yet just as he straightened, a voice cut cleanly through the calm.
"It's been a while… Instructor Fark."
The sound was familiar.
Uncomfortably so.
Fark froze.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to hold its breath. Then he turned.
A man stood near the gate, posture straight, presence sharp. Blond hair reflected the dim evening light, and his eyes—clear, disciplined—carried the weight of battlefields and command. He wore light military gear, polished but practical.
Fark's expression hardened instantly.
"…What are you doing here, Ivan?"
The man smiled faintly and bowed. "Ivan Hans. Spear Knight of the Arghaban Kingdom."
"You didn't come all this way just to greet an old instructor," Fark said, voice cold.
Ivan straightened and reached into his coat. "No. I came to give you something."
He extended a sealed envelope.
Fark accepted it slowly. The moment his eyes landed on the emblem pressed into the wax, his breath caught.
"…A wedding invitation?"
"Yes," Ivan replied, his tone softening. "I'm getting married."
For the first time since Ivan appeared, Fark let out a quiet laugh—low, rough, but genuine.
"So," he said, shaking his head, "the reckless boy who couldn't even stand properly with a spear is becoming a husband."
Ivan chuckled. "You trained me well."
"Strictly," Fark corrected.
Footsteps approached from inside.
Maria stepped out, wiping her hands on a cloth. When she saw Ivan, surprise flashed across her face before turning into warmth.
"Oh," she said gently. "So it's true. Congratulations, Ivan."
Ivan bowed again, deeper this time. "Thank you, Lady Maria."
She smiled. "You were just a child when you trained here. Now you're a knight… and soon a husband. Time truly moves fast."
They entered the house together.
The living room felt different with Ivan inside—memories of the past filling the space, both comforting and heavy. Old laughter lingered between the walls.
Then—
"Mama! I'm hungry!"
Small footsteps rushed toward the house.
Ron burst in from the backyard, cheeks smudged with dirt, hair messy from play. His eyes lit up when he saw Maria.
She laughed softly. "Go wash your hands first."
"Okey!" Ron replied, spinning around and disappearing again.
Ivan stared after him.
His smile faded.
"…Instructor," he said slowly. "Who is that child?"
The warmth in the room vanished.
Fark's gaze drifted toward the backyard door. "It's a long story."
They sat.
Fark spoke calmly, but each word carried weight—of fire, ruins, death, and a boy pulled from ashes. He spoke of the choice they made. Of the silence that followed.
When he finished, Ivan clenched his fists.
"…That poor kid," he murmured. "No child should endure that."
Maria's voice was quiet. "That's why we adopted him. So he never feels alone again."
Ivan nodded firmly. "You did the right thing."
After a pause, his eyes sharpened. "Does Commander Sai know?"
Fark shook his head. "He hasn't returned since the fight. We sent a letter. No reply."
A faint tension settled over the room.
Ivan broke it. "The kingdom has placed scout camps near the border."
Fark lifted his head. "Why?"
"The Hunter Squad," Ivan said. "They've been spotted moving close to Arghaban territory."
Maria stiffened. "Could they attack this village?"
"They could," Ivan admitted. "Small villages are perfect hiding places."
Fark's eyes darkened. "So they're circling."
"For now," Ivan continued, "we're only monitoring forest movement."
Fark leaned back slowly. "That explains something."
Ivan frowned. "What?"
"We encountered a Mutamal python in the forest," Fark said. "But the maffle nest we were sent to destroy was already gone."
Ivan's expression changed instantly. "That's impossible. Mutamals don't destroy eggs. They don't care about them."
"That's exactly the problem," Fark replied.
Silence followed.
Dinner was served shortly after.
Ron sat beside Ivan, curiosity lighting his face. He asked endless questions—about knights, spears, and flying machines. Ivan laughed more than he expected to, surprised by how easily the boy's presence softened the room.
When the meal ended, a low mechanical hum echoed outside.
Ivan stood. "That's my ride."
Outside, a helicopter descended near the yard, wind rippling the grass.
Before boarding, Ivan turned back.
"Instructor," he said earnestly, "please come to my wedding. Bring Ron too."
Fark nodded. "We'll be there."
The helicopter lifted into the sky, vanishing into the dark.
Fark remained standing long after.
"…Time really does fly," he murmured.
Inside, Ron laughed—safe, warm, unaware of the shadows gathering beyond the forest.
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CHAPTER END
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