When the last remnants of his consciousness had nearly faded, Rian caught a flash of the crimson katana.

In that moment, the blade danced through the air, cleaving the troll's skull in two. The brush of the wind guided the sword's arc, and then the forest fell utterly still.

The monster's final roar died on broken lips; its heavy footsteps vanished. Only the whisper of leaves drifted down, each falling frond a solemn descent for a beast that would rise no more.

A hush crept through the trees, as though the entire woodland were holding its breath, bearing witness to a sudden, wordless slaughter.

Darkness lingered for a heartbeat. Then a solitary figure drifted down from above.

A humble old warrior, his simple farmer's cloak tattered and dull, the hood drawn low over half his face. He touched ground on a swirl of air, standing tall beside the fallen troll. Without looking toward Rian, the elder's low voice sliced the silence:

"Naive, reckless human."

He began to turn away. Yet his steps faltered, as if compelled by an unseen force, when his gaze landed on Rian—crawling across the blood-soaked earth, dragging Catty's frozen form behind him. Each ragged gasp stained the soil, but the youth refused to let go.

"Catty… forgive me…"

Rian's voice cracked, ragged yet unyielding. He enfolded the great black cat's body in his arms, folding himself like a cloak around her.

The fur that had once been warm now lay cold and motionless. Tears streamed down his face, soaking into the fur that no longer breathed.

"I should have trusted you. I thought I could be a hero… but I failed to protect my only friend."

The old warrior froze, his face swathed in shadow beneath the hood. He stood unmoving for a long beat, then his whisper slithered through the air:

"Hmph… this boy."

With a sigh that ruffled his gray beard, he stepped forward and laid a gentle hand beneath Rian's ribs.

Wind curled around his fingers, lifting the limp body as if carried by invisible currents.

Two days later.

Rian's eyelids fluttered open to dim light. A sliver of sunrise filtered through gaps in the wooden walls, painting slender beams across the air.

Shadows of branches clawed at the floor, like frantic fingers begging to be heard.

A dull ache gripped his chest, and his shoulder throbbed as if the troll's fangs still lingered. The dry scent of fallen leaves pricked his nostrils.

He tried to push himself upright. His hand trembled as he found the tattered cloth wrapping his wound. His joints felt stiff, like wood bent out of shape.

Yet this pain was softer than the agony of tumbling off that cliff.

The room was carved from the hollow of an ancient trunk. A rough-hewn table, a splintered wooden chair, and a half-melted candle all stood vigil in the hush.

"Where… am I?" he murmured, a dull drum of pain echoing in his head.

With unsteady steps, Rian approached a narrow window. Below, the forest floor lay five meters down—an undulating sea of green.

A rustle of dry twigs heralded the elder's arrival.

"How are you feeling? Any better?" came the calm voice, void of earlier scorn.

"Better… much better." Rian managed, forcing a stiff smile.
"Who are you? Did you save me? And… Catty? Is she… safe?"

The elder's gaze pierced into him.

"I laid the cat to rest properly, behind this tree. And if you wish to address me, call me Bebegig."

The name struck Rian's heart like a stone. He stared a moment at the hooded figure, then without warning vaulted through the window.

"Hey! Don't be reckless! You might die again understood?" Bebegig's voice snapped, tinted with irritation.

He tapped his katana's sheath against the timber frame; the metallic clang echoed sharp.

But Rian was already cradled by the wind. He floated down, landing as lightly as a dove on soft earth.

Bebegig exhaled sharply, then cracked a crooked smile.

"Not entirely hopeless, I suppose."

Beyond the great tree, fresh earth lay heaped over a simple grave. Moss-covered stones of older markers clustered around it.

The hush was sacred. The rustle of dry twigs sounded like whispered lamentations, adding weight to the scene.

Rian knelt before Catty's gravestone. His fingers quivered as they brushed damp soil. He nearly toppled forward, but caught himself, heart pounding in his ears.

"Catty… you weren't abandoned on that cliff. Thank you, Bebegig, for giving her a proper resting place."

Tears fell one by one, dark streaks soaking into the moss beneath her marker.

The elder descended quietly, standing beside him.

"Was she just a cat? Or more?" he asked softly, eyes sharp under the hood.

"She was more than a pet. Catty was my friend my very first in this world. And I… I let her die through my own foolishness."

Bebegig drew a slow breath, motioning toward a weathered stone nearby.

"I lost my friend once, too. A great cat who wandered by my side for years. One day, I let my guard down. A troll struck and took her from me."

Silence wrapped around them briefly.

"I built this treehouse as a mere refuge," the old warrior continued, voice a soft echo.
"But when I laid her to rest here, I couldn't bear to leave. It would have been like abandoning half my soul. So I stayed… to keep her company until my last breath."

Rian looked up, seeing the hidden fracture in the elder's heart. Their wounds were different but equally deep.

Bebegig's gaze sharpened again.

"Do you seek power?"

Rian's pulse stuttered. He recalled the katana's single, lethal swing.

"Yes. I want to be strong."

"For what purpose?" Bebegig's eyes narrowed, voice cold as steel.

"To become a true hero. To shield those I love. Losing Catty crushed me… I cannot lose anyone else."

The elder studied him in silence, then gave a curt nod.

"Tomorrow at dawn, you will learn suffering's true meaning—before you taste strength."

At first light, Rian knelt once more at Catty's grave. His voice shook as he spoke his vow.

"I'm sorry I failed you. From now on, I swear to protect all your kin. With my very life if I must."

Tears glinted on his cheeks but beneath them, a fierce fire burned, harder than steel.

Bebegig turned slightly, his eyes softer despite the set of his jaw.

A gentle breeze swept through the forest, carrying an echo only Rian could hear:

"Thank you, master…"

Rian offered a small, watery smile.

"You're welcome, Catty."

He made his way back toward the hollow trunk. Dawn's rays shone through the canopy in pale shafts. The mighty bark towered above him, its grooves like ancient runes.

Rian gazed upward, brow furrowed.

"How do I climb this without steps?"

From the window, Bebegig's voice descended, edged with dry humor:

"Use your mind, boy. If you fail, you sleep on the ground. Training begins with the smallest tasks."

Rian exhaled and closed his eyes. He reached inward, seeking the whisper of mana coursing through his veins.

A shiver ran down his spine, and his heart pounded like a war drum.

Sunlight streamed through the leaves, cloaking him in dawn's glow. He drew in a deep breath, feeling the swirl of air respond to his will.

Bebegig watched from above, his narrow eyes assessing. He stroked his thin beard, and the katana's blade trembled faintly at his back, as if sharing his judgment.

"Yes… this boy has a spark. But can he endure the storm ahead?"

Rian did not know. But on that morning, his first small step became the beginning of suffering—yet also the birth of newfound strength that would shape his fate and stir storms, upheaval, and turmoil within his heart.