Bruno stood there, exhausted, breathing heavily, every muscle protesting… yet with a smile on his face.

  A real smile.

  "I think you’d better rest, don’t you?" Tila appeared beside him, already holding out a cup of water.

  He took it slowly.

  "Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t keep going."

  She laughed softly while he drank.

  "Let’s walk a little. I think that noise has worn you out."

  He looked at the square one more time. Anaalyn was still arguing about something with Seralyn while they danced. Elaris watched from a distance, pretending she wasn’t watching. The lanterns swayed above them.

  "Yes."

  Tila walked beside him without pulling this time. Just keeping pace.

  The music grew more distant with each step. The dirt ground gave way to fresher grass near the garden lit by a few smaller lanterns. The smell of sweet corn still lingered in the air.

  For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

  Just the sound of footsteps.

  And his breathing… still a little heavy.

  "You overdid it," Tila said suddenly, but without accusation in her voice.

  "I barely danced."

  "You’re practically falling apart."

  He let out a weak laugh.

  "Details."

  She stopped near a low wooden fence. The light there was softer. Calmer.

  "You don’t have to prove anything every time you show up standing."

  He didn’t answer immediately. The wind passed gently, rustling the leaves in the garden.

  "I know," he finally said.

  But he always did it anyway.

  Tila leaned against the fence beside him.

  "Even so… it was beautiful."

  "What was?"

  "You smiling for real."

  He looked away, thinking turning his face would hide the red rising in his cheeks.

  "You’re getting bold. Who taught you that, your father?" Bruno replied with that silly smile back on his face.

  Tila narrowed her eyes, but the smile didn’t leave her lips.

  "You’re getting bold… who taught you that? Your father?" Bruno teased, that crooked grin still there.

  She feigned indignation.

  "My father is a respectable man."

  "Oh, of course. Very respectable."

  "Extremely."

  Bruno tilted his head.

  "Then it definitely wasn’t him."

  She tried to hold back her laughter… failed miserably.

  "Maybe I learned from a certain stubborn idiot who thinks he can dance with fifteen open cuts."

  "I don’t have fifteen."

  "How many then?"

  "…I neither confirm nor deny."

  She crossed her arms, leaning sideways against the fence.

  "You say you don’t want to prove anything… but you always do."

  He looked up at the dark sky for a moment. The stars were still there. Silent.

  "Maybe I just don’t like looking weak."

  Tila stayed quiet for a second.

  "You don’t look weak."

  He arched an eyebrow.

  "I’m literally bleeding."

  "And you still stood up."

  She stepped a little closer — not much — just enough for her voice to drop.

  "Weakness isn’t falling, Bruno. It’s pretending no one can hold you when you need it."

  He fell silent.

  The silly smile softened… turning into something calmer.

  "So you’re offering to hold me?" he asked, returning to the lighter tone.

  "Maybe."

  "Definitely bold."

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "Fast learner."

  He let out a short laugh — and this time it didn’t turn into a cough.

  "Careful… soon they’ll say you’re a bad influence."

  "I already walk around with you. My reputation’s already ruined."

  He pretended to be offended.

  "That’s cruel."

  "Realistic."

  They stood there a few more seconds, the noise of the party now distant — just an echo.

  "You’re very annoying. I’m going back to dance — and when those wounds heal, you’ll see if you want to come back and torment the party again," Tila said, pointing at him like she was issuing a solemn command.

  Bruno made a dramatic face.

  "Yes, yes… go ahead and leave the annoying one here contemplating life — or something even more annoying."

  He slowly slid down until he was sitting on the ground, back resting against the wooden fence.

  Tila stood there for another second.

  Watching.

  "You know I’ll come back to check if you’re not dead, right?"

  "How romantic."

  "Shut up."

  She turned around, but before fully leaving, she glanced over her shoulder.

  "Don’t overthink."

  "Terrible advice."

  "Still."

  And then she ran back toward the light, the music, the noise.

  Bruno remained there.

  The distant sound of the party seemed softer now. Almost muffled by the wind moving through the leaves.

  He leaned his head back and stared at the sky.

  He took a deep breath.

  It hurt.

  His chest burned.

  His ribs complained.

  But… he was still smiling.

  Far away, Anaalyn could be heard shouting something competitive, Seralyn replying dryly, Elaris probably rolling her eyes.

  He closed his eyes for a moment.

  "I should be lying down…"

  he murmured to himself.

  But he didn’t sound regretful.

  Not even a little.

  Bruno’s smile slowly disappeared.

  "Sometimes I wonder how long this peace will last… I know it won’t be long. I know this will change. But with the past I have… I know exactly why I can’t have much time."

  His eyes were no longer on the sky.

  They were on the rooftops.

  A shadow jumped between houses.

  Light.

  Fast.

  But not fast enough.

  Not dancing.

  Not laughing.

  Not lost in the party.

  Searching.

  "That person isn’t very experienced… makes too many mistakes," he murmured.

  Kearlin floated slightly higher, following the movement.

  "You’re like a paladin… but you can hide better than that assassin."

  Bruno tilted his head slightly.

  "Assassin."

  Kearlin stopped midair.

  "Look at the diversity," he laughed softly. "Think there’s going to be a Seralyn 2 out there?"

  "No," Bruno answered flatly.

  He was already analyzing posture. Jump rhythm. Landing angle.

  "Unlike Seralyn… this assassin is only here for money. Why do you think she’s so clumsy? She’s just doing a job."

  Another leap.

  She almost slipped on the edge of a chimney.

  Recovered too late.

  A hired professional.

  Not fanatic.

  Not personal.

  Just contract.

  Bruno stood up slowly.

  His body protested immediately.

  His chest burned.

  He ignored it.

  The air around his hand began to vibrate.

  Fine particles of light condensed.

  Metal took shape.

  A blade was born in his hand — silver, simple, elegant.

  No ornaments.

  "At least she’s stylish."

  Kearlin spun in the air.

  "Going to ruin the party?"

  "No."

  He stepped out of the shadows.

  The music still played.

  Laughter still echoed.

  Lanterns still glowed.

  But on the rooftops…

  It was another party.

  And Bruno walked toward it.

  No hurry.

  No noise.

  As if the pain were just another detail.

  And as if the peace… had already ended.

  She landed on the roof of a more distant house, boots scraping against the tiles.

  Heavy breathing.

  Alert eyes.

  "Where are you, bastard?"

  Her voice came out irritated, but there was tension in it. Insecurity.

  Silence.

  Just the wind.

  Then—

  A light ignited behind her.

  Soft at first.

  Then intense.

  White.

  Cold.

  She turned too late.

  "Pulsus Lucis."

  Bruno’s voice wasn’t loud.

  Nor aggressive.

  It was firm.

  The burst of light didn’t burn.

  It pushed.

  The impact struck the assassin’s back like an invisible hammer. Her body was launched forward, soaring through the air above the houses, spinning out of control.

  She tried to stabilize.

  Missed the timing.

  Missed the axis.

  Clumsy.

  Exactly like he had said.

  She was thrown beyond the party, past the limit of lanterns and music, crashing violently near the edge of the forest.

  Leaves scattered.

  Branches snapped.

  Silence.

  On the rooftops, Bruno remained standing.

  The sword still in his hand.

  The magical glow dissipating like shimmering dust.

  He took a deep breath.

  Coughed.

  A thin line of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.

  "I really didn’t want to do this today…"

  Kearlin floated down beside him.

  "You sent her flying."

  "That was the idea."

  Bruno took a step.

  Then another.

  And then he jumped from the roof.

  Not with perfect agility.

  Not lightly.

  But with intention.

  The party continued behind him.

  The forest waited ahead.

  And the assassin… now knew exactly who she had encountered.

  Leaves were still falling when she rose, agile in reflex but clumsy in the landing, daggers already in her hands.

  Bruno stepped out from behind the trees, the light blade illuminating his tired face.

  "You weren’t invited to the party."

  She spat blood onto the ground. "Who the hell are you, asshole?"

  She wasn’t experienced enough to hide the fear, but she wasn’t stupid either. She narrowed her eyes.

  "…You’re not the target."

  She’s not after me? Strange. Usually they just want to kill me. Who’s the lucky one?

  "Look, you don’t want to get into this. The person I’m hunting wouldn’t even spare a spit for you."

  Elaris.

  So someone wants Elaris gone.

  But how do they know she’s here?

  Unfortunately… I think I’m the reason.

  "Who hired you?" Bruno asked without changing his tone.

  "You think I’m an idiot?"

  You’ve already answered enough, he thought.

  She lunged suddenly, fast — the first dagger aimed at his neck.

  Bruno moved the sword just enough to deflect, light scraping against metal.

  She twisted her body, trying to strike his ribs. He stepped back half a pace, chest burning from still-open cuts.

  Even so, he blocked again.

  "You’re better than you looked on the roof."

  "And you talk too much."

  She attempted a more aggressive sequence — less technical, more impulsive.

  He saw the pattern.

  Let her get closer.

  Then turned his wrist.

  The blade of light forced both daggers aside with enough strength to unbalance her.

  He didn’t attack.

  He only placed the tip of the sword near her throat.

  "How much are they paying?"

  She hesitated again.

  Mistake.

  "Enough."

  "Then it’s not much."

  Anger in her eyes. Wounded pride.

  "I’ll say this once," Bruno said, breathing heavily, blood returning to his mouth. "Leave. Take another job. Today you don’t die. Neither does she."

  She studied him from head to toe, finally understanding the difference between them.

  "Who are you?"

  He gave a crooked smile.

  "The guy who ruins contracts."

  Silence.

  The wind passed between the trees.

  She took two steps back, still guarded.

  "This isn’t over."

  "For you, maybe."

  She retreated until she vanished into the darkness of the forest.

  Bruno let the sword dissolve into particles of light.

  The moment the tension fell, the pain returned in full.

  He pressed a hand to his chest, coughing blood again.

  "You’re getting worse," Kearlin commented beside him.

  "I know."

  He looked at the distant lights of the party.

  Elaris was there, unaware she had almost become a body in the woods.

  "I really need to stop dragging war with me."

  But even saying that, he was already walking back.

  "I have to warn her — or at least defend her."

  ---

  Bruno walked back, more exhausted than before.

  His body hurt, his chest burned, but he remained standing as always.

  On the way, he found Anaalyn waiting, arms crossed, expression far from pleased.

  "Did the beer run out?" he asked.

  "Worse. The meat," she replied with a crooked smile.

  "I see… going back to the party?"

  "Unfortunately, I don’t think I have a choice."

  She stepped forward and grabbed his shoulder.

  Felt the tension.

  The rigidity.

  He was worse than he looked.

  "Let’s talk first. We’ve spent so much time together and you still try your hardest not to involve us in your problems."

  Bruno looked away.

  "I’ll tell you… I’m an idiot."

  "No. You’re just dense," she replied bluntly. "We’re here to help each other, but… you’re the only one helping. I don’t like that."

  He stayed silent for a few seconds.

  "It’s not about trust."

  "Then what is it?"

  "It’s about consequence."

  She narrowed her eyes.

  "There’s someone after us."

  "After Elaris," he answered.

  Her smile disappeared.

  "And you were going to handle it alone."

  "I already did. For now."

  "For now isn’t enough, Bruno."

  She stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her.

  "Do you think we’re fragile?"

  "No."

  "Then stop acting like you’re the only one who can take a hit."

  He inhaled deeply.

  "I hate the idea of something happening to you because of me."

  Anaalyn sighed.

  "And I hate the idea of you still thinking we’re here by accident."

  A short silence.

  "There’s an assassin," he said.

  She gave a sideways smile.

  "Good. It’s been a while since I hit someone for a decent reason."

  Even tired, he let out a short laugh.

  "You’re impossible."

  "And you’re our favorite problem."

  She began walking back toward the party.

  "Now let’s warn the crystal princess before someone tries to turn her into shards."

  Bruno took a deep breath and followed beside her.

  "Here."

  Anaalyn extended her hand to him.

  In her palm lay a simple pendant.

  A crescent moon carved in dark metal, small stars marked in the background as if someone had pierced the sky with a needle.

  Nothing glowed.

  Nothing pulsed.

  Nothing magical.

  Just… handmade.

  "Thanks?" Bruno said, slightly confused.

  "I didn’t do this for your thanks, idiot."

  She looked away while he took the pendant.

  The metal was warm, as if it had been closed in her hand for too long.

  Bruno turned the piece between his fingers.

  It wasn’t a rune.

  It wasn’t an artifact.

  It had no hidden spell.

  It was just a gift.

  He slowly raised his eyes, that foolish smile appearing without permission.

  Anaalyn had already started walking again, pretending it was nothing.

  "Is it ugly?" she asked without looking back.

  "No."

  He placed the pendant around his neck, adjusting the chain.

  "It’s simple."

  She made a face.

  "Was that a compliment or a criticism?"

  "It’s perfect."

  She didn’t answer.

  But her steps slowed… just a little.