The one who broke the most was Annerose Redwood. When she heard that her father, Lajos Redwood, was dead, she simply fainted. It was too much for her—too much loss, too much pain.
Botond, for all his honor as a knight, had no idea how to handle this kind of grief. He had neither the strength nor the experience to comfort a noble girl whose world had just collapsed.
That burden fell to my mother, Carla.
She was there when Annerose woke.
She was there when the girl clung to her like a child to a mother figure, sobbing out everything her heart could no longer bear.
Carla had lost her husband as well—but it did not break her.
Bandorn Wolfwood had been a vile man. A bad husband, a bad father. He had done nothing in his life that would make a wife or child shed a tear for him. The Rogue Wolf had been such a wretched creature that Carla's heart almost felt relieved when she learned that his chains no longer existed.
Carla understood that with her husband's death, a new era had begun—not only for herself, but for all of Wolfwood.
Her son, Andras, had already opened the door of the cage in which she had been the little bird.
But now… the cage itself had been destroyed forever.
For the first time, Carla felt she could truly spread her wings.
And finally fly free.
Tears Behind the Armor
The Princess bore her grief with surprising strength. She did not cry in front of others—at least she tried not to. She tried to appear composed, as befits a royal heir, but we all knew that when she locked herself in her room, when no one could see her, she wept. She cried like any daughter who has lost her father.
But she was not the only one trying to appear strong.
Andrea Wolf, my personal knight, behaved the same way. She acted as though she were proud that her father had died as a knight, a heroic death. As if the armor of duty and honor could shield her heart. But I knew better. Beneath that strong knight's armor was a simple girl who was hurting deeply because she had lost the father she loved.
That was why I went to check on her, in the room where she was resting—resting so her magic could naturally recover. We were alone. Just her… and me.
"How are you feeling?" I asked quietly. "Though that may have been a stupid question."
"My magic is slowly recovering."
"I know. But I'm not asking about your magic capacity."
Andrea turned her gaze away.
"We lost our Lieutenant. We'll need to appoint a new one."
"You lost your father," I said gently but firmly. "A good father. I could appoint four people to the Lieutenant's position. Five, even—Fireburp has enormous potential."
Andrea's lips trembled.
"He died as a knight… serving the house, the homeland, the Kingdom against the demons. I would have died too, if you hadn't come and defeated Wildfire."
"You know… my father was a vile man," I began. "The funniest part is that he always believed he was a good man. He was a terrible father, a terrible leader. But even so, I never wished for his death. I can't shed tears for him, because he never did anything to make me remember him fondly. My mother, Carla, won't shed tears for him either. In fact… her life will be much better now."
I smiled, though bitterness lay behind the smile.
"My life won't be better, because he handled the politics, and I have absolutely no desire to deal with that. He wasn't a good father, but even he had his uses. There was a reason he lived. If there hadn't been, I would have ended him myself. And I know that in his own twisted way, he did love me as his son—even if he always saw me as nothing more than a tool for power."
My eyes met Andrea's.
"But your father was different. He loved you with all his heart. He was a knight, yes. A lieutenant, yes. And? He was still a good father, wasn't he?"
Andrea whispered softly, "Yes… I couldn't have wished for a better one."
"Then what?" I asked gently. "Doesn't he deserve your tears? Or do you think you'll be stronger if you don't cry for a good man, a good knight, and a good father?"
Andrea's lips trembled again.
"I… the Wolf Knight Family…"
But she couldn't finish.
The Champion of the Wolf Knights, who days earlier had fought a Demon General candidate, could no longer speak. Her tears fell like a waterfall down her face. The armor finally gave way, revealing the human beneath. The girl. The grieving child.
And I stayed with her, so she wouldn't have to cry alone.
The Heart That Still Beats
Young Wolf pulled the girl into his arms. Andrea's body tensed at first, as if she were still trying to hold herself together… then slowly, she yielded to the embrace. The heart she had locked behind armor finally opened.
"That's right. This is what makes you truly strong," Andras said softly. "That you have a heart. A pure heart that aches for the father you lost. A strong heart that will remember him with pride. And an unbreakable heart that demons will never stop, no matter what cruelty they bring into this world."
"I… am I weak?" Andrea asked, her voice trembling.
"Yes. You're still weak," Andras replied, gently brushing a hand over her head. "My weak little knight. Never forget this feeling, because it proves you're human. You're not the Hero. You're a Wolf Knight. Sometimes you'll make mistakes, sometimes you'll lose. But as long as you live, you'll always have the chance to walk the path the Goddess has chosen for you. Never forget that."
Andrea's tears began to fall again.
"I won't forget! I don't need the Hero's light. Because your light shines far brighter."
Andras smiled.
"Well, yes. As long as we train hard every single day, we'll have a chance to earn the power of light on our own. That's real strength. Not the kind you get as a gift just because you were lucky."
"I lost to Wildfire," Andrea said, wiping her tears. "But next time… I'll defeat a Demon General. I swear it!"
"You don't have to defeat one alone," Andras replied. "We'll defeat them together."
"Yes. Together… side by side."
The female Wolf Knight finally let out everything that had weighed on her heart. Even a warrior strong enough to stand among the Hero's Party could shed tears. Tears do not weaken a person—quite the opposite. Tears prove that the heart is still alive.
Outside Andrea's door, Eris stood silently. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop… but she had heard their conversation. And tears fell from the Hero's eyes as well. She understood all too well how hard this must be for Andrea. After all, Andrea had been the one who saved Eris's father from certain death. And Eris… had not been able to save Andrea's father. She hadn't been there when the tragedy struck.
For the first time, a thought crossed Eris's mind:
was she truly a Hero… or merely a symbol, a beacon of hope in the age of demons?
When Andrea had cried herself empty in Andras's arms, she slowly calmed down. She wiped her tears and once again donned the mantle of the hardened Wolf Knight. Determination burned anew in her eyes: she would become the knight whose blade protected others even more fiercely than the Hero herself.
Andras placed a hand on her head, nodded, and walked out of the room.
At the door he met Eris, who tried to pretend she had just arrived and hadn't heard anything. But Andras saw the traces of tears in the Hero's eyes. He said nothing. He didn't tease her. He simply walked past her—quietly, understandingly.
A Hero's Doubt
"Eris?" Andras called out to her. "You came to see Andrea? Good. She needs a woman warrior right now—someone who can understand her not just with a blade, but with a heart. I'm a Mage… this part is more your task. Go on, little Hero."
Eris couldn't answer.
Every word caught in her throat.
Deep down, perhaps she had expected Young Wolf to scold her for being weak against Wildfire. But he never criticized her. Not once. And that hurt the most.
As a Hero, she blamed herself for the losses.
The Princess's father, Andras's father, Andrea's father… all dead.
And Eris felt as though the burden of the Hero's title had driven a knife deep into her heart.
When she finally gathered herself, she stepped into Andrea's room.
"Eris?" Andrea looked up. "You came to check on me? My magic will recover in a few days."