---[ POV: Gwenvar ]---

With a terrified squeak, the last goblin in reach of the black knight was crushed by the mystical war hammer.

The warrior had battled the horde for over 10 minutes without showing any sign of fatigue. The blades of the goblins bounced on the magical armor without leaving so much as a scratch.

At first, the goblins had been rather confident since they faced a single and isolated opponent. Their opinion had rapidly changed, however, after a dozen of them had been crushed in less than 5 blows.

The front line had tried to run away but the goblins in the further ranks, oblivious of what was happening in the front, pushed ever onward, excited by the sound of combat and the promise of blood and fresh meat. The fleeing goblins were kept from leaving or trampled by their comrades.

It had taken some time for the horde to realize it was in fact outmatched. As soon as they had realized it, however, the melee had transformed into a frantic and disordered retreat.

The knight observed the fleeing goblins disappear over the hills or the corner of a cliff, then he turned in Gwenvar’s and her ward’s direction once again.

During the fight, Gwenvar had been unable to do anything else than to crawl beside the young Lady and watch aghast as a single man was laying waste to an army of goblins.

Saying he was an incredibly skilled and powerful warrior would not be giving him justice: he had the making of a hero. No! Not just a hero: a god of war made manifest would be more accurate.

The black knight came their way, making his war hammer disappear in thin air while he walked.

He observed Gwenvar and her severed arm for a moment, then, seemingly satisfied, knelt beside Lady Annestrahd. He observed her as he had Gwenvar before the fight, running the tips of his finger over some of the wounds on her knee and around her face.

He then summoned another item similar to the artifact he had used to heal Gwenvar. The cylinder was slightly different this time. There was a cavity on one side in which the man placed a strange glass vial containing a dark and metallic liquid. The woman had never seen such clear glass before, even at the table of kings and queens.

The man applied the cylinder against the young lady’s neck and the content of the glass vial suddenly disappeared. As the princess’ Warden, Gwenvar was worried about what the man was doing but she had no choice other than to rely on him and his goodwill at this point.

She would be surprised if he had healed her and fought a horde of goblins just to dispose of them afterward.

The warrior ejected the empty vial and loaded a second one in the cylinder. The new vial contained a fleshy pink mixture. He repeated the process of applying it against the young girl’s neck and the content of the vial was gone in an instant once again. Once he was done, the man ejected the second vial, which fell on the ground beside the first one.

He then returned to Gwenvar and pointed toward the arrow stuck in her leg. She had left it there. The leg contained major arteries and removing an arrow or a spearhead stuck in it without the assistance of a skilled physician ran the risk of tearing some of them and bleeding to death.

The voice of a man emanated from the helmet, surprisingly young and as clear as if he had not worn anything over his head. Gwenvar could not understand a single word of what he said, but he did not sound hostile.

"Sir... sir knight? I'm sorry, I don't understand what you are saying. I will survive for now, if it is what you are asking. I’ve always been tough…” she laughed with bitterness as she realized she was probably as tall as that great warrior. “I don't know if I can walk for long though. I will probably need a walking stick or a crutch."

The warrior spoke again, then he materialized two small vials exactly similar to those he had used with Lady Annestrahd.

He inserted the one containing the solution resembling liquid steel in the cylinder and applied it against the woman’s neck. Gwenvar jumped in surprise as she heard a small 'swoosh' and felt as if someone had just pinched her skin.

The man ignored her shocked reaction and repeated the process with the second vial. Once he was done, he made the magic cylinder disappear, then reached for the arrow stuck in the woman’s leg. Alarmed, Gwenvar put her hand on his arm to stop him.

"Please... I have already lost too much blood. If you remove this arrow, even I, might just die."

The knight paused, but then he spoke gently while pushing Gwenvar’s hand aside.

Even if I wanted to resist, I could probably not put much of a fight against him.

She removed her hand, resigned.

The man materialized a dagger whose edges glowed with magic yet again. He used it to cut a small part of her trouser's fabric around the shaft of the arrow, then he put his left palm on her leg beside the wound and grabbed a firm hold of the arrow with the other. The warrior looked at Gwenvar and voiced a single word, then, without letting her the time to speak, he plucked the arrow out in one precise motion.

The woman let out a small surprised scream but immediately gritted her teeth because of the pain, turning it into a hissing groan.

Blood started to flow out of the wound and she thought she was done for, but the warrior used his magic to swap the blade for the magic cylinder he had first used to heal her severed arm.

He applied some foam in and around the wound and once again, Gwenvar could feel her pain evaporate instantly. The foam solidified in about 5 seconds, stopping the flow of blood completely.

The woman could not resist letting out a nervous but reassured laugh. The warrior answered her laugh with a small one of his own, then slapped her shoulder softly as to comfort or congratulate her. This felt strange, but not unpleasant.

The man spoke again and there was a warmth in his voice that reached Gwenvar even if she couldn't understand his language. He sounded genuinely happy to be able to help; to see that they were still alive.

He was undoubtedly the perfect knight; strong in war, caring and gentle of nature during peacetime. Sure, his appearance was fearsome, but his young and soft-spoken voice made her feel at ease. She felt something build up deep inside; respect, admiration, gratitude...

This man was everything she had ever wished to be. He had stood strong where she had failed. Because of him, for the first time in days, she could start to see a future where she and her ward might survive.

The black knight reached for her discarded sword and handed it back to her.

Seeing the sword suddenly made Gwenvar want to cry but she withhold her tears. She had already cried more today than in the rest of her life. It was time to stop.

Am I really given a second chance?

The woman looked at the princess as she was grabbing the sword. She would not fail her this time. She would not waste this miraculous second chance. Her new life started here, and she had to become better in every way to serve and protect her Lady as she was sworn to do.

Once she had taken her weapon back, the warrior took Lady Annestrahd in his arms and got back up, seemingly uninterested by the discarded glass vials strewn on the ground all around.

Such crystal-clear glass was probably worth as much, if not more, than Gwenvar entire knight armor.

The woman tried to restrain herself from any reaction. It was not the most shocking thing that had happened today, by far.

The man spoke again. There was some concern and interrogation in his voice.

"I... I'm sorry but, as I said, I don't understand what you're saying. I'm doing much better if it was your question. I can't thank you enough for saving us. If my life was not already pledged, I would certainly pledge it to you in order to repay this debt."

Gwenvar knew that the knight could probably not understand her more than she could him and felt a bit stupid for saying that out loud but she could not refrain from expressing her gratitude.

The man repeated what he just said, this time walking a short distance away while doing so.

She realized he was probably asking her if she could walk and follow him.

She tried putting weight on her injured leg and, seeing there was no problem since the knight had treated it, she got back on her feet and walked toward the warrior. She had a slight limp but she would be damned if she allowed that to prevent her from following him and Lady Annestrahd just after she had been given a second chance at life.

Seeing she got up on her feet, the black knight nodded appreciatively, then he turned away and started to walk toward the north.

Gwenvar had no idea where he was taking them but anywhere else would be better than this blood-soaked battlefield.