The night air was thick with tension. The criminals continued their work, forcing the children into the carriages like livestock. Their muffled cries seeped through their gags, but the men paid no mind.
One of the thugs sneered, gripping a struggling girl's arm. "Careful with that one. The nobles like 'em clean."
A cold breeze swept through the alley.
In an instant, the man who spoke was gone. No scream. No struggle. Just gone.
The others blinked in confusion, looking around.
"Oi, where'd Garret go?" one muttered, stepping away from the carriage.
Then, a thud. A body hit the ground limp, unconscious.
"Wha—?"
Another man dropped before he could finish his words.
Panic spread like wildfire.
"We're under attack!"
Before he could finish, a shadow moved silent, precise. Sebastian was already among them.
His strikes were calculated, each movement fluid, like a wraith in the night. He targeted the brachial plexus, a network of nerves near the neck, rendering men unconscious instantly. His fingers struck the solar plexus, forcing the air from their lungs before they could scream. A precise chop to the carotid sinus caused blood pressure to plummet, sending his foes into blackness before they hit the ground.
One of the criminals, shaking, eyes wide in terror, tried to run. He barely took three steps before something cold and sharp pressed against his throat.
Sebastian loomed over him, eyes void of warmth.
"You'll be useful."
The last remaining trafficker gasped, pinned beneath Sebastian's iron grip. His realization came slow and dreadful he wasn't going to die tonight.
Sebastian stood amidst the fallen criminals, his breath even, his stance unwavering. The night air carried the faint whimpering of children, their tear-streaked faces filled with a mixture of fear and hope. The battle was over or so he thought.
A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the alley.
Sebastian's sharp eyes darted to the alley entrance. A lone figure emerged from the shadows, his armor faintly gleaming under the moonlight. Unlike the thugs who now lay unconscious, this man carried himself with unmistakable discipline and purpose.
A knight.
He was no mere guard or sellsword his presence alone radiated authority. He stopped a few paces away, his piercing gaze assessing the fallen bodies littering the ground. Then, he exhaled, almost disappointed.
"Efficient. Too efficient." His voice was smooth, practiced.
Sebastian said nothing, merely adjusting his stance, his sharp gaze locked onto the knight.
The knight's lips curled into a smirk. "No matter. This ends here."
In an instant, he moved.
Sebastian barely had time to parry. The clash of steel rang through the alley as his dagger met the knight's longsword. The force behind the strike sent a tremor up his arm.
'Strong.'
The knight advanced, each step calculated, each attack seamless. His blade cut through the air with deadly precision, forcing Sebastian onto the defensive. Unlike the crude swings of the traffickers, these strikes carried training, technique, and mastery.
Sebastian dodged, his footwork flawless, weaving between attacks like a phantom. He sought an opening, aiming precise strikes at the knight's pressure points. But this man was no ordinary opponent he anticipated, countered, and retaliated in kind.
The fight was a deadly dance, the alleyway their stage.
Then, it happened a faint gap in the knight's stance.
Sebastian lunged, his dagger aiming for the throat.
But the knight was ready.
With a swift pivot, he redirected the momentum, his blade cutting through the air
and slicing into Sebastian's side.
Pain flared, sharp and immediate.
Sebastian staggered back, pressing a hand to his wound. The knight stood tall, watching him with unreadable eyes.
"Impressive," the knight admitted.
Sebastian's breathing was steady, but his movements had lost the effortless precision they once carried. The wound from the knight's earlier strike was deeper than he cared to admit. Blood soaked through his sleeve, and a sharp sting shot through his side with every motion. His opponent smirked, noticing the slight hesitation in Sebastian's footwork.
"You're slowing down," the knight taunted, circling him with a predator's patience. "I expected more from a man of your caliber."
Sebastian remained silent, his grip on his blade unwavering. He had fought many skilled swordsmen before, but this one was different precise, ruthless, and calculating. Every strike they exchanged sent jolts of pain through his wound, forcing him to rely on sheer experience rather than raw speed.
The knight lunged again, his sword a blur under the moonlight. Sebastian barely parried in time, the force of the impact rattling through his arm. He gritted his teeth. Too slow.
The fight raged on, neither giving an inch. Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal, their movements a deadly dance. But Sebastian knew he was at a disadvantage. His body was betraying him, the injury sapping his strength. And the knight knew it too.
With a sudden feint, the knight shifted his weight and delivered a powerful downward swing. Sebastian raised his blade to block, but the force was too much. His stance broke, and he staggered back. The knight saw his opportunity and moved in for the finishing blow.
But just as the knight's sword came down, a figure lunged between them.
"Stop!"
The female manager, her face filled with desperation, crashed into the knight, throwing his aim off. The sword sliced through the air, narrowly missing Sebastian's chest.
For a brief moment, the knight hesitated, surprised by the interference.
And that was all the time Sebastian needed.
With a final burst of speed, he twisted his blade and struck the knight's exposed side, sending him stumbling backward. A swift kick to the chest followed, knocking the knight off his feet. Before the man could recover, Sebastian was already upon him, pressing his blade against his throat.
"This fight is over."
The knight glared up at him, breathing heavily, but said nothing. The tension in the air was thick as Sebastian kept his gaze locked onto his opponent. His body ached, his wound burned, but he had won.
Behind him, the manager collapsed to the ground, shaking from the near-death experience. The orphanage was safe… for now.
Sebastian exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stand tall despite the pain.
The children huddled together, their small faces streaked with tears, but they were safe. The criminals lay scattered across the alley, some unconscious, others groaning in pain. Sebastian took a deep breath, his sharp eyes scanning the orphanage's entrance before turning his attention back to the defeated traffickers.
The orphanage owner and the manager approached him, their eyes filled with gratitude and disbelief. The manager, still trembling, clasped his hands together. "You... saved us. Who are you?"
Sebastian adjusted his cuffs, his expression unreadable. "I serve Lord Vincent of Ravennest."
The mention of the noble house left the owner and manager momentarily stunned. The Ravennest family was known for its fairness and strength, yet they never expected one of its people to come to their aid in such a way.
Sebastian, however, had no time for thanks. He strode toward the carriage that had been meant to steal away the children. "This will serve another purpose now."
Without hesitation, he grabbed the unconscious and restrained criminals, one by one, and threw them into the carriage like sacks of grain. The knight, the leader of the operation, was bound tightly with thick ropes, his armor stripped away. He glared at Sebastian but said nothing, knowing his position was hopeless.
The children watched in awe as the criminals were loaded into the very same carriage that was supposed to take them away. Some of them clenched their fists, feeling justice had been served, while others simply cried in relief.
Sebastian gave the reins a quick flick, and the carriage lurched forward, heading toward Frost Mansion, where the true interrogation would begin. The children and the orphanage staff stood at the entrance, watching the mysterious butler disappear into the night.
After a long silence, one of the older boys clenched his fists. "I'm going to Ravennest when I grow up."
A younger girl, still sniffling, nodded. "Me too. I want to serve that place… as thanks."
One by one, the children made silent promises to themselves. They would never forget the night a man from Ravennest saved them.
And perhaps, one day, they would find their way there.