IATAOTHKG | CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 18

Through the mask, Khalif’s eyes looked like those of a defiant teenager pretending he’d done nothing wrong after causing trouble.

Meyna silently mouthed words of scolding toward him from afar.

‘Are you crazy?!’

Khalif shrugged again.

‘What did I even do?’

It almost felt like she could hear his voice, and Meyna rubbed her forehead.

She figured she should probably handle the situation first.

“Excuse me. Let me through, please.”

Standing up, Meyna apologized to people as she made her way toward Khalif.

Meanwhile, Khalif approached the fallen Biggie.

With a faintly apologetic look, he asked,

“Hmm. You alright?”

“Arghhh! My arm!”

Biggie, clearly not alright, couldn’t even hear him through the pain.

As the man writhed and rolled on the ground, Khalif looked down at him and said,

“My apologies.”

Sincerely meaning it in his own way, Khalif fiddled with his mask as if it were a nuisance.

“You beastly bastard! Damn it—ahhh!”

Cursing furiously, Biggie was carried out on a stretcher.

The crowd, stunned by what they had just seen, fell into shock.

“What on earth just happened?”

“Can an arm really break from arm wrestling?”

“Right? I’ve never seen that before!”

“Who is that man?”

People began crowding toward the mysterious “Sexy Fancy Cat Boy,” who had just snapped the arm of a man twice his size.

“To be that strong… Who are you, sir?”

“You defeated the owner of ‘Juicy Explosion Steak House’ in seconds!”

“Are you from out of town?”

The women, especially, were all sparkling with curiosity.

They seemed drawn to his height, his strong build, and the striking charm that even the mask couldn’t hide.

“I want to see your face under the mask! Are you from a noble family?”

“Did you come to the festival alone?”

“How tall are you?”

“Would you like to have a drink with us? There are three of us, all women.”

Meanwhile, Meyna was stuck, unable to move an inch through the thick crowd.

Khalif, brushing off the barrage of questions with just a few dismissive hand waves, walked up to the man who had been hosting the event.

Then, he held out his hand.

“Uh, huh?”

When the man looked confused, Khalif said,

“The prize. You said the winner’s lovely lady gets a special prize, right?”

“Ah—yes, yes! The prize! I’ll bring it right away!”

The man dashed off in a hurry.

Khalif scanned around for Meyna, ignoring the nonstop questions from the crowd.

Then, over the sea of heads, he spotted the glint of emerald hair.

He started walking toward her.

“Wait—!”

“Where are you going, sir?”

Ignoring the disappointed cries from behind him, Khalif reached Meyna and grabbed her wrist.

“Where were you?”

“Huh?”

“I said, where were you?”

“Uh…”

Caught off guard, Meyna trailed off.

“Wait—isn’t that Lady Meyna Winslet?”

“I think it is.”

“Do they know each other?”

A few of the women following behind him began whispering to each other.

But Khalif, as usual, seemed completely oblivious to all the attention.

“Did you see me win the match?”

“…I did.”

‘Wasn’t I great?’

His expression practically said the words out loud.

Meyna could only stare at him, caught between laughing and crying.

***

The Winslet mansion.

“Hahaha! That’s hilarious!”

“I’m crying from laughing so hard!”

Around thirty family members were gathered around the table, roaring with laughter over dinner.

Meyna sighed as she poked at her dessert plate.

“So that’s the prize you got?”

Her second aunt, round-faced and cheerful, pointed to the stuffed toy sitting in the corner of the living room.

It was a white bunny plushie, its ears uneven and stitching crooked—almost comically ugly.

“Yes.”

When Meyna nodded, everyone around the table burst into laughter again.

“It’s not funny! The man’s arm actually broke!”

“Broken bones heal.”

Khalif said it casually from across the table.

Meyna let out a dry laugh.

“It was just supposed to be a fun little event! Who takes something like that that seriously?”

“I only did it for the honor of Guild 928.”

“You’re bringing up Guild 928 at a village arm-wrestling contest?”

Meyna gaped at him in disbelief, but Khalif just grinned.

“Any real man takes every challenge seriously.”

Her third uncle, a sailor who transported cargo, chimed in to back him up.

“If everyone’s finished, shall we bring out the drinks?”

The eldest aunt, known as the wealthiest woman in La Rundel Town, took charge of wrapping up dinner.

“Meyna, you look thinner.”

Her youngest aunt, who looked most like Meyna’s mother, gently brushed her hair.

“I’m fine.”

Meyna rested her head lightly on her shoulder.

Across the table, Khalif quietly watched her.

Then he looked around the room.

The Winslet family—warm as a campfire and kind as sunlight.

They had taken in the wandering boy named Khalif and loved him as one of their own.

***

Past midnight.

Khalif was out in the garden.

“Not having any snacks with that?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Sitting across from him with a large wine bottle was the Winslet family’s resident heavy drinker, Martisha.

She was Meyna’s great-aunt, the first to welcome them when they arrived.

“You’ve lost weight, pretty boy. Been working too hard?”

Her relaxed, caring tone made Khalif’s chest tighten.

For him, La Rundel Town was as close to a hometown as he’d ever had.

“I’m dying.”

“Oh dear. You’ll collapse at this rate.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if they had to carry me off tomorrow.”

It wasn’t just the alcohol making him act so childishly tonight.

When the vacation destination had been set as La Rundel Town, Khalif had been just as excited as Meyna.

“When Rosalyn was dying, she told me one thing—make sure that boy never goes hungry.”

Rosalyn Winslet, Meyna’s mother, had died from a cruel lung disease.

She had doted on young Khalif as if he were her own son, as much as her husband Ternel had.

She never gave him charity money that might wound his pride, but she always fed him warm meals and looked at him with the gentlest eyes.

“When Ternel was falsely accused and executed, the whole family scattered. We couldn’t take care of you.”

Martisha’s eyes glistened with tears.

Just as she said, after Ternel’s death, the entire Winslet family went into hiding from the Imperial authorities.

Even Meyna, his own daughter, had been forced to wander.

So it was only natural that no one had been able to look after Khalif.

“Don’t say that.”

“You took me back when I returned, didn’t you?”

When the old emperor died and the family started reuniting in La Rundel Town, Khalif was in his third year as a holy knight.

Working alongside Meyna, he had reconnected with the Winslets naturally.

“You should visit more often.”

“I already come a lot.”

He hadn’t told Meyna, but Khalif often visited La Rundel Town without her knowing.

On especially exhausting days after hunts,

“Starving laborer reporting in.”

He’d drop by his great-aunt’s house for a meal with a grin.

When the politics of patronage wore him down,

“Life’s pretty damn awful, huh?”

He’d spend the night drinking with his uncle, sharing bitter laughs.

And when a strange emptiness gnawed at him from the inside,

“What’re you up to, Martisha?”

“Oh my, Khalif! You scared me, showing up without warning!”

“Do I need to send a telegram before visiting now?”

“If you’d tell me, I could make something tasty ahead of time!”

“Not that your cooking’s any good. The real chef’s my other aunt.”

He’d tease her, acting like a gruff son.

“Still, come by more often.”

“Alright.”

“Every day if you want.”

“If I really came every day, you’d get sick of me.”

“Never.”

“What if you did? What if you got tired of me and left?”

Khalif grinned.

But Martisha didn’t smile.

“Family doesn’t do that, Khalif.”

“…”

“We don’t leave.”

Martisha said softly.

Not to the famed holy knight Khalif Lennox, but to the lonely boy he once was.