You had lost count of how many times Capitano had saved you. Each time, it was breathtaking—not just in the sheer strength of his blade, but in the way he always positioned himself between you and danger, his every counterattack bringing him closer, always facing you as he fought.

It was inevitable—the closeness. No matter how fierce the battle, no matter how chaotic the surroundings, Capitano’s movements always aligned with yours. When an enemy struck, he was already there, intercepting the blow with swift, calculated precision. And every time, his stance never wavered—he never turned his back to you. Instead, he faced you, his sword carving through foes with unwavering control, as if ensuring you remained within his sight at all times.

You barely had time to react when an opponent lunged at you from behind, but Capitano was faster. In a single, seamless motion, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him as his sword met steel with brutal efficiency. The sound of clashing metal rang in your ears, but all you could focus on was him—the way his presence engulfed you, the way you could feel his steady breath despite the chaos.

Even as he fought, one-handed and effortlessly, he never let you go. It was as if his body moved on instinct—to shield, to counter, to ensure you were never beyond his reach. And when the battle settled, when the dust cleared and your feet touched the ground once more, Capitano remained just as close. His unreadable mask tilted slightly as if silently assessing you, his massive frame still standing firmly between you and the world.

You had fought beside many, but none like him. Because with Capitano, protection wasn’t just a duty—it was something inevitable.