Azrael and Freya's senses flared the moment they heard the soft knock at the door.
For some strange reason, that small sound alone was enough to put them on edge.
"Eh...? Who could it be at this hour?" Freya whispered, already reaching for her daggers.
Azrael, silent, kept his hand gripped tightly on the hilt of his greatsword as he quickly approached the door.
He trusted his instincts — and his supernatural reflexes. No one could ever catch him off guard.
Freya, not wanting her disguise as "Aurea" to be compromised, activated an invisibility spell.
Azrael opened the door in an instant, ready to strike if necessary.
But to his surprise… two children stood before him.
A boy and a girl. No older than twelve.
Azrael blinked. He didn't lower his guard right away — instead, he sniffed the air.
No scent of blood. No trace of infernal presence.
He relaxed his grip slightly and looked them straight in the eyes.
"And who might you be?" he asked, his tone more puzzled than aggressive.
"Valtherion Kaelvorn," the boy replied confidently."Elarwen Duskveil," the girl added with a smile.
Both wore wide, innocent grins.
Their names… were unusual.
Too elaborate.
Not the kind of names peasants usually had.
And something about their last names rang oddly familiar to Azrael.But he didn't linger on it.
"…Kaelvorn… Duskveil… hmm…" he thought to himself.
"And what do you want from me?" he asked, tone cool and curious.
"Nothing! We just wanted to say that one day, we'll be just like you! We're going to be amazing hunters!" Valtherion exclaimed, his eyes glowing with excitement.
"Yeah! Super strong hunters!" Elarwen added, striking a little pose of pride.
But despite their cheerful demeanor, Azrael's suspicion lingered.
How did these kids find him? And how did they get so close without being noticed? And how do they know how who Azrael really was?
"So… Why did you come here to me? Is there any particular reason?" Azrael asked again, sharper now.
Valtherion and Elarwen exchanged a glance, then looked up at him with determination.
"Because…—" Elarwen mumbled.
"Because we know you're the strongest! We saw you fight! We want you to become our master!!" Valtherion shouted with hopeful excitement.
Azrael stared at them, visibly taken aback.
He had been prepared to face an ancient vampire… but not this.Not two children begging him to be their teacher.
Moreover, they saw him fighting against Gudras.
They even risked their own life.
He scratched his chin, silent, eyes drifting to the sky as he thought.
Then he looked down at them again — and saw something in their eyes.
Conviction.
Part of him wanted to say yes.
To pass on his knowledge, his techniques… his purpose.
But another part — the deeper part — wanted to protect them.
To keep them far from the life of a slayer.
To be the one who ends this fight so they'll never have to pick up a blade.
Because no one understood pain, loss, and the fear of attachment better than Azrael.
So, he knelt down to match their height and asked a simple question:
"Why do you want to become hunters?" His voice was cold, yet oddly gentle.
"Well… to protect everyone, of course! Vampires are evil!" Elarwen answered firmly.
Azrael nodded. Then turned his gaze to Valtherion.
The boy hesitated — then clenched his fists and looked down.
"Me… for revenge. Vampires took my mom and dad… and I want to make them pay."
Revenge.
A word no child should ever need to know.
But the way Valtherion said it… it wasn't just a word.
Azrael could feel the hatred in his voice.
The sorrow.
The helpless rage of being too weak to protect what mattered most.
It was familiar.Too familiar.
Azrael had been born with a unique gift — an innate hatred for monsters.
That hatred shaped him into the slayer he was.Not out of spite, but out of purpose.
Valtherion was being driven by pain.
A path fueled by revenge was dangerous — Azrael knew it firsthand.
Elarwen, on the other hand, seemed drawn to the thrill, the pride, the dream of being a protector.
Azrael placed a hand on their shoulders and spoke with quiet resolve.
"Kids… no one is born to kill. And I'm the wrong person to be your teacher. You should live."
His tone was almost paternal — something rare in the monster who had once laughed while cutting vampires in half.
The children's faces fell in disappointment.
"Aw, come on! Please!" they cried, dropping to their knees.
"Please! Please! Teach us!!"
Azrael remained stoic on the outside… but inside, he felt a sting of guilt.A strange bitterness.
"We trust you more than anyone here!" Valtherion added desperately.
That made Azrael's eyes narrow.
That sentence… set off every alarm in his mind.
The village had always felt off.
Too peaceful.
Too perfect.
And now this boy — who somehow found him — was telling him that he's the only one they can trust?
"What do you mean, kid?" Azrael asked sharply.
Valtherion blinked, then answered innocently:
"I mean… you're strong. And kind. You're not bad — I can tell!"
Azrael's instincts flared.
Something… wasn't right.