Chapter 91: Through the Fence

The attack came during what should have been a routine outdoor training session, Milo practicing controlled containment bursts in the palace’s secured eastern training yard while Ren watched from a nearby bench, his own involvement necessarily limited now that his pregnancy had advanced well into its visible second trimester.

The first sign of trouble arrived as a subtle shift in the air, something Ren’s own classification registered a fraction of a second before the yard’s automated sensors properly flagged the breach, and he was already rising, old instinct overriding his physical limitations, when the first projectile struck the training yard’s perimeter shield.

“Milo,” Ren called sharply, already moving toward the boy despite his own vulnerability. “Get down.”

Milo reacted instantly, years of accumulated instinct apparently already deeply ingrained despite his relatively brief formal training, dropping low and summoning his blade in the same fluid motion, pale blue energy flickering to life around his forearm as he scanned the yard for the actual threat.

The perimeter shield held against the first several strikes, security alarms blaring through the palace in response, but Ren felt a fresh wave of dread as he spotted the attackers properly, five figures in Remnant colors converging on the training yard’s edge with coordinated, deliberate precision.

“They’re targeting the yard specifically,” Milo said, voice tight with controlled fear despite his evident training. “They knew we’d be here.”

Ren felt cold understanding settle hard into his chest. “Someone’s been watching our schedule,” he said grimly, already pulling Milo back toward the yard’s more defensible inner section even as palace security scrambled to respond. “This wasn’t opportunistic.”

The shield finally cracked under sustained assault, and the attackers surged forward, and Ren felt his own blade bloom instinctively around his forearm despite Vance’s repeated warnings about combat risk during pregnancy, old protective instinct overriding every careful caution.

“Stay behind me,” he told Milo firmly, positioning himself between the boy and the advancing threat.

“I can help,” Milo protested, though he held his position regardless, old discipline from his training apparently overriding his instinct to argue further.

“You can help by staying alive,” Ren said, voice sharp with fear and fierce protectiveness in equal measure. “That’s exactly what I need from you right now.”

The first attacker breached their position, and Ren moved on pure instinct, his blade catching the strike before it could properly connect, though the effort cost him considerably more than such a defensive maneuver usually demanded, his pregnancy-altered body protesting the sudden, strenuous movement.

Milo’s blade flashed beside him a heartbeat later, the boy engaging a second attacker with considerably more confidence than Ren had anticipated, his training translating into genuine, effective defense despite the overwhelming circumstances.

“Fall back toward the palace,” Ren ordered, even as he parried another strike, old exhaustion beginning to compound with the physical strain of combat his body wasn’t currently well-suited to sustain.

They retreated together, fighting defensively rather than offensively, buying time for palace security to properly reach their position, and Ren felt genuine relief flood through him as reinforcements finally arrived, Yegard himself leading the charge with fierce, desperate urgency.

“Ren,” Yegard called, voice sharp with alarm as he took in the scene, already cutting down the nearest attacker with brutal efficiency.

“We’re alright,” Ren managed, though exhaustion and lingering adrenaline made his voice unsteady. “Milo protected us both.”

Yegard’s expression shifted toward Milo with genuine, fierce pride even amid the chaos, though his focus remained primarily on properly securing the area, additional security forces finally overwhelming the remaining attackers within minutes of his arrival.

The aftermath left Ren sitting exhausted on the training yard’s edge, Vance already rushing to properly examine him despite his insistence that he genuinely felt fine, while Milo hovered nearby, old adrenaline still visible in his young, flushed features.

“The babies,” Ren asked immediately, old fear resurfacing despite his best efforts at composure.

“Vitals are stable,” Vance confirmed after a careful scan, something relieved cutting through her clinical focus. “Though I’d strongly recommend considerably more rest, and I’m afraid this confirms my earlier concerns about combat risk during your pregnancy.”

Ren nodded, exhaustion and fear finally catching up with him properly now that the immediate danger had passed. “I didn’t have a choice,” he said quietly. “Milo was there.”

“I understand,” Vance said gently, though her expression remained carefully concerned. “I simply want you to understand the genuine risk you’re currently carrying, should something like this happen again.”

Yegard crossed to join them, security situation properly stabilized, and knelt before Ren with evident, fierce relief. “Are you both actually alright,” he asked, voice rough with lingering fear.

“We’re fine,” Ren confirmed, reaching for his hand with genuine, grateful warmth. “Milo fought remarkably well.”

Milo, still processing the adrenaline of his first genuine combat experience, settled beside them with visible, complicated emotion. “I was so scared,” he admitted quietly. “But I knew I had to protect you both.”

“You did,” Ren said firmly, pulling him into a grateful, fierce embrace despite his own exhaustion. “You did exactly what you needed to, and I’m so proud of you.”

Yegard’s expression carried matching pride alongside his evident, lingering fear. “This attack confirms the threat’s escalating severity,” he said grimly, old military focus reasserting itself despite the emotional weight of the moment. “They specifically targeted this location, knowing your schedule. That’s a significant security breach we need to properly address.”

Ren felt fresh dread settle alongside his exhaustion at that implication. “Another leak,” he said quietly.

“Possibly,” Yegard confirmed. “Or considerably more sophisticated surveillance than we’ve previously accounted for. Either way, we need to reassess our entire security protocol immediately.”

Reven arrived moments later, having been coordinating with Council security during the attack, and crossed immediately to properly assess them both, old fear and fierce relief cycling visibly across his composed features.

“I came as quickly as I could,” he said, voice tight with barely controlled emotion. “Are you both genuinely unharmed?”

“We’re fine,” Ren confirmed again, something warm settling into his chest despite the day’s overwhelming danger at both men’s evident, fierce concern. “Milo protected us remarkably well.”

Reven’s attention shifted toward Milo with genuine, proud warmth. “Your training is clearly serving you well,” he said, something deeply approving in his tone.

Milo flushed slightly at the praise, though something proud and considerably more confident broke through his earlier shaken composure. “I just did what I’ve been learning,” he said simply. “I didn’t want anything to happen to either of them.”

They gathered together properly once the immediate crisis had settled, security forces securing the palace grounds while medical staff continued their careful monitoring of Ren’s condition, and Ren found himself, despite the day’s genuine terror, holding onto fierce, grateful pride at how thoroughly his unconventional family had risen to meet this latest, dangerous challenge together.

‘Whatever comes next,’ he thought, settling into the protective warmth of Yegard’s and Reven’s presence while Milo remained close beside him, old fear tempered by fierce, unwavering determination, ‘we’ll face it exactly like this. Together, properly prepared, protecting each other however we possibly can.’