As the night flowed, the sky shone as bright as the moon. All the stars were set ablaze. The one whose heart knew no rest began laughing as his opponents surrounded him.

  "Have you ever thought of how the stars appear only at night?"

  No one answered.

  "It's because the sun knows no darkness. So when the night falls, it's the moon that takes over. For every star in the night sky, there is a dead warrior somewhere on the earth. Once those warriors are forgotten by their close ones, they appear in the night sky as memorials for everyone to see."

  One Bandit stepped forward. "Wait—"

  He stopped him. "I'm not done. There is more."

  He continued, "The shooting stars… they are the traces of a fallen king, who ruled over his people and commanded his armies to complete his evil plans and ideas, for his own peace of mind. But it came back to them. Karma is a bitch—the universe… or God. He corrected the evil acts that the king had done. God was watching and observing. He let the king grow careless, overconfident in his abilities, and then..."

  The Bandits listened, captivated, as a moment of silence fell, broken only by the freezing cold wind.

  "God struck him with a measure equal to all the sins he had committed, resulting in the kingdom being destroyed by a calamity. At that time, the king was traveling to neighboring castles, making deals and connections. But when he returned… he saw his kingdom wiped out. In its place was a huge crater. It was too much for him to handle, so he took his sword made of pure gold and stabbed it through his heart."

  As he spoke his last word, he drew a sword from its sheath—swoosh—glowing in the darkness, golden and soaked in a red substance that resembled blood. The atmosphere grew tense, until one Bandit finally spoke.

  "Is that the sword that the king used—"

  "Yes," the man answered.

  "The kingdom was located far from civilization," he continued, "which I discovered by reading mythical books and connecting maps to track it down."

  He held his sword in a middle stance, unbothered by being outnumbered, calm and ready for a fight.

  "This sword is one of a kind. It repairs itself by absorbing the blood that soaks onto the blade—but only if that blood is fresh."

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  After a moment of silence, he said, "So… shall we dance?"

  He lifted his gaze, setting it upon those in front of him. They slowly backed away. He took a step forward and pointed his blade at them. They turned and ran. Without looking back, they disappeared into the darkness. Their running footsteps faded.

  Until the only sound that remained was the rhythm of his heartbeat. He inhaled, then exhaled deeply. Sheathing his sword, he looked around and began walking slowly, appreciating the silence of the night and the moonlight shining brightly above. He hummed softly, walking toward an old cabin, pulling out a single cigar and a match.

  Once at the steps, he stopped humming, knocked on the door, and waited outside while puffing on the cigarette, holding it between his index and middle fingers, resting it on his lips as he leaned against the wooden wall.

  A middle-aged woman opened the door. "Honey! You're back!"

  She hugged him, wrapping her arms just under his shoulders.

  "Whoah, haha! I've missed you too, sweetie," he said, wrapping his arms around her and sniffing her hair as he rested his head against hers. They stepped inside, smiling.

  "So, how was your day?" she asked, sitting at the dinner table, where food had already been set.

  "Oh, just another Friday, my dear. Nothing out of the ordinary," he replied with a smile. He set the cigarette in the ashtray, removed his coat, hat, and shoes, and took a seat in an old chair held together by loose screws and polished wood.

  He placed his sword and scabbard across the back of the chair and picked up the utensils his wife had prepared. Smoke rose from the chicken and rice on his plate. He lifted a spoonful toward his lips.

  "Wait, it's ho—" his wife began.

  He quickly gulped the rice, moving it side to side in his mouth. "Pfff, that's hot!" he exclaimed, blowing on it to cool it down before continuing to eat.

  She smiled as she watched him.

  He looked up. "Hey there, I see that pretty smile of yours. What's funny?"

  "Nothing," she giggled. "I'm just happy. Things have been going well for our family."

  "You're right, my dear. We can finally have some rest and live in peace," he replied, though he knew something she did not.

  She placed her hand on his, wrapping her fingers around his. "The kids fell asleep a long time ago. Aren't you a bit late today?"

  "Ah… yes. I had some business to take care of."

  A bit later...

  "And then I say, 'Now, shall we dance? And they all ran away!'" They laughed, walking slowly toward the bedroom.

  "Wow, babe, you're such a badass, aren't you? Haha!"

  "Of course I am, honey," he replied.

  They stepped over the creaking wooden floor, muffled snoring coming from the kids’ bedroom. The door to their room made a noise as they opened it, which they closed slowly, careful not to wake anyone.

  They lay down in bed together, in their underwear. He cupped her cheek softly in his hand.

  "Now close those pretty eyes and sleep well, okay?" he said, kissing her. They covered themselves with the blanket, facing opposite directions.

  "Good night, baby," she whispered.

  "Good night, my dear," he answered.

  The morning sunlight shone brightly through the window, covering his face in light and waking him up.