Adventurer of Many Professions

"Who…? When did you get behind me?"

The sudden, chilling voice from behind struck Raymond like ice running down his spine. Every instinct flared up, his mind racing.

'I'm an awakened one now,' he thought, alarmed. 'I should have sensed anyone approaching… so how did they get this close without me noticing?'

There was no time to analyze. Instinct took over as he twisted around and kicked out, hoping to catch his unseen pursuer off-guard. But his foot met nothing but air.

'Nothing?' He stared at the empty room, his chest tight. There was no one there.

Yet before he could even take a breath, he felt a cold prickle against his neck. His muscles went rigid as a thin line of pressure traced his skin, stopping just short of drawing blood. He dared not move. The stinging sensation was unmistakable; someone was holding a blade against his throat, steady and terrifyingly close.

Whoever they were, they had closed the distance again without a single sound.

A soft, almost taunting voice came from behind him, so close that he could feel the whisper of breath on his ear. "Huh? Why so stiff? I thought my dagger might get to taste a little blood tonight."

Raymond's mind raced. It was a woman's voice, teasing yet edged with unmistakable regret, as if disappointed he wasn't putting up more of a fight.

"What's your name?" she asked, her tone conversational despite the deadly situation.

"Raymond," he replied, his voice steady but immediate. 'No hesitation', he reminded himself. Any wrong move could end this conversation permanently.

"Raymond… So, newly awakened, are you?"

"Yes," he answered promptly, not daring to let any silence stretch. "It's been… two weeks."

The woman let out a low hum, and he could almost feel her smirk. "Two weeks, hmm? Tell me then, Raymond… Do you know what the consequences are for an awakened one who harms ordinary folk without cause?"

"I know," he responded, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Is that so?" Her voice danced with an interest that felt more dangerous than her blade. "Then why did you do it?"

Raymond steadied himself, took a slow breath, and replied with the firmness of someone whose life and the lives of others; depended on his answer. "Because… they wanted to harm someone under my protection. I didn't have any other choice."

A brief silence stretched between them, a tension humming in the air. Then her voice slipped in again, soft but sharp. "Are you talking about the person on the bed?"

Raymond swallowed. He couldn't see her face, but he could almost imagine her expression; mocking, amused, eyes glinting with a challenge.

Before he could reply, she withdrew the dagger, and he felt the sudden absence of its deadly edge. In a single graceful movement, she was in front of him, appearing out of nowhere as if she'd just materialized from the shadows. She didn't stop there; she strode confidently to the bed and settled herself on it, watching him with a casualness that belied the tension moments before.

"So…" she drawled, spinning her dagger between her fingers with a dangerous grace, "you say you had a reason to throw punches, then? Care to tell me what exactly happened?"

Raymond looked her over, trying to hide his surprise. The woman was dressed in a knight's uniform, pristine and official, yet almost at odds with her face, which seemed young, even slightly playful. She didn't look much older than him. But the way she handled that dagger, so effortlessly, made him nervous. Each twist of the blade seemed a taunt to his senses, as if challenging him to look away or dare her to stop.

He cleared his throat, unsure. "You… you're a knight?"

At this, her expression changed to a flare of annoyance, almost like an irate cat with its fur bristling. "What, can't you see my uniform?" she huffed, her eyes narrowing.

She puffed up, looking all the more intimidating despite her youthful face. "For your information, I passed the Knights' assessment in just one year! Graduated early from the Knight Academy, and here I am, a full-fledged member of the Knights."

Raymond held up his hands in surrender, realizing he'd struck a nerve. "Okay, okay," he said quickly, nodding to appease the indignant knight, who looked ready to pounce. 'Careful, Raymond,' he thought. This "kitten" had claws and wasn't afraid to use them.

Raymond wasn't quite sure what to make of Freya's claim about graduating from the Knights Academy in just one year. Was that supposed to be impressive? He had no way of knowing. What he did know, though, was that only the wealthy, usually nobles, could even afford to attend such a place. For ordinary people like him, the Knights Academy might as well have been a world away.

But why was a knight here in the first place? And one so young?

'Could this be… Madame Becker's doing?' he wondered uneasily.

"Humph!" Freya lifted her chin, looking down at him with a playful but unmistakably haughty glare. "Well? Start talking, or I might just have to use my knife after all," she threatened, twirling the blade between her fingers. "And don't think I'll hesitate. I'm an emotionless assassin!" she declared proudly.

Raymond fought back a smirk. When he'd first imagined knights or assassins, he thought of cold, unfeeling warriors. But this girl? She looked more like an angry kitten than a ruthless killer.

Before he could respond, a familiar, shrill voice echoed from the hallway. "Sir Knight, it's just through here!"

Freya's expression instantly shifted to irritation. She stomped her foot and glared at the door. "Ugh, you had to take forever, didn't you?" she grumbled.

Raymond tried to stifle a smile as the door swung open, revealing the unmistakable, pompous figure of Madame Becker, clutching a small white stone and flanked by a group of knights. She scurried to the side, hiding behind the broad frame of a large man in light armor, his massive sword resting on his shoulder like a protective shield.

"Oh, my noble knights, look at this!" Madame Becker gestured dramatically to the scene in the room, pointing a trembling finger at the unconscious men sprawled on the floor. Her face twisted into a look of mock horror. "My employees; beaten to a pulp by this brute!" She thrust a finger toward Raymond, voice thick with false concern. "One of them was hurt so badly he's foaming at the mouth! He might not make it!"

Her beady eyes zeroed in on Raymond with triumph. "Sir Knight, you must arrest this dangerous awakener immediately. He belongs in a cell!"

Raymond clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of Madame Becker's accusations pressing down on him. She hadn't intended to involve the gendarmerie at all. No—she wanted the knights to take him down, her own personal enforcers.

The leading knight, who appeared to be Captain Andel, sighed and looked at Freya with mild exasperation. "Freya," he said, his voice both weary and reprimanding, "why did you run off on your own again?"

Freya's cheeks colored, and she muttered under her breath, "Well, you were too slow, Captain! I got tired of waiting, so I came on ahead…"

Captain Andel shook his head as Freya, unfazed, pointed back at Raymond. "Besides, you don't know how weak this guy is!" she declared with a dismissive wave.

Raymond bristled. 'Weak?' Where was the supposed chivalry of the knights? He thought they were sworn to protect the weak, not insult them. He stared, a little stunned by Freya's bluntness.

Captain Andel's squad, standing at attention behind him, seemed to share Raymond's discomfort. They exchanged glances and sighed, clearly familiar with Freya's antics. One knight behind Andel muttered under his breath, "He only awakened two weeks ago… she knows that, right?"

Andel gave Freya a stern look, though there was a glint of humor in his eyes. "Freya, keep this up, and I'll be leaving you behind next time."

"Oh, no! Captain, please don't do that!" Freya's eyes went wide, and her posture instantly softened. "I'll be good. I'll follow orders, I swear!" she pleaded, looking as innocent as a child.

The knights behind Andel exchanged smirks and stifled chuckles. They'd clearly seen this side of Freya before.

Captain Andel turned back to Raymond, his demeanor shifting to one of authority. "Raymond, is it?" he asked in a deep, measured tone. "As an awakened individual, you stand accused of using your powers to harm ordinary citizens. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Raymond took a deep breath, glancing at Madame Becker, who wore a smug expression as if she'd already won. This was his moment to set things straight.