The person who walked out from between the soldiers was not what any of the poachers had expected.
It was a boy who looked to be around sixteen or seventeen years old, at least that's what his build suggested. He was tall for his age but still had that lean look of someone who hadn't finished growing yet. His clothes were fine quality—definitely noble-born—but practical enough for travel.
The soldiers stopped in their tracks as the boy came forward, clearly waiting for his orders.
Behind the boy were two men who couldn't have been more different from each other. One was a thin old man with a long white beard who didn't look threatening at all. If you saw him on the street, you'd think he was just some drunk who'd crawled out of a tavern. The other was clearly a knight, wearing full armor with a sword hanging from his belt. This one looked like he could kill all of them without breaking a sweat.
