Even after the imperial entrance, music filled the square once more.
The smell of spices and wine mixed with the people’s laughter.
Lukas walked among the crowd, still carrying the weight of what he’d just seen.
Freya… Rá… none of this existed in my past life.
Then, a laugh split the air like thunder.
— HAHAHAHA! — Luiz pushed through the crowd, short spear hanging on his back.
— Magrelo... even in guardians you’re behind!
Lukas sighed.
— Don’t start, Luiz.
— Don’t start? — his grin widened.
— Then pay attention. Wanna see what a real bond looks like?
He raised his hand. Hanging from his belt was a small charm shaped like a short crimson spear, engraved with spiral runes.
At his touch, the rune flared.
From the flash, a small figure leapt out — no taller than twenty centimeters.
Ragged jester’s clothes, a heart tattoo on his cheek, eyes blazing red with madness.
In his hands, a short spear of bone and black iron.
The Lumpa spun midair, laughing like a clown in the middle of carnage.
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“HAHAHA! If the stage is life, then I’m the final laugh! A heart only exists for one thing — to bleed beautifully!”
The crowd exploded in shouts and awe.
Valquíria raised her hammer and smirked.
— Suits you, Luiz. A noisy, troublesome jester.
Luiz held the tiny guardian like a trophy.
— This one showed up when I was about to be crushed by the Bone Tyrant. Know why he stayed? Because I laughed. And he laughed with me. Now he never leaves my side.
Arlec pointed his spear toward the audience, red eyes gleaming.
“Whoever touches him… I’ll open your chest just to watch the spectacle of your fall!”
Some laughed nervously. Others stepped back.
Luiz turned toward Lukas, pointing a finger.
— See, magrelo? Valquíria has Freya. I’ve got Arlec. Father has Rá. And you? Not even a keychain on your belt.
Morgana laughed inside Lukas’s mind:
“He’s right, chocolatinho. Even Luiz’s psychotic jester looks more useful than you.”
César tried to sound steady, but his tone carried weight:
“Do not compare yourself. The bond comes at the right time.”
Lukas clenched his fists, silent.
But deep down, the feeling of falling behind only grew stronger.
Everyone has a guardian... except me.
Not that I’m jealous... I just wanna fit in. These Lumpas are so cute—
César: Don’t look at them like collectible toys, boy. Mercy, you look like a child.
Morgana: Let him be, soldier boy. You know he never had a proper childhood...
César: What he needs is discipline — but… I’m glad he’s this excited.
End of Chapter 3