"Shit—hey!"
Yona struggled on the ground, trying to push herself up with shaking arms. Her voice was rising now, shrill with panic.
"Release me! You put a sigil on me, didn't you? Take it off! Take it off!"
Keiser didn't answer immediately. His eyes were locked on the sky.
Above them, a shadow circled—wings wide and leathery, tipped with claws. Its screech had shaken the trees and startled birds into flight, and now the creature hovered with eerie precision, its snout turning as though sniffing them out.
"That's why," Lenko muttered, his face drained of color, eyes wide. "That's why I said we should've hired someone! We're too close—still too close to Sheol!"
The beast let out another cry, sharper this time. It was searching. Or maybe already found them.
Yona's hands clawed at the air, reaching for Keiser. "I can't move! I can't run! If we die because of your stupid magic—!"
Lenko snapped his attention down to her. "You shouldn't have stolen from us."
"Yeah? Well, congratulations! I learned my lesson! Now take it off!" Her voice broke at the end.
Lenko was clutching the coin pouch like it was a talisman. He stepped toward Keiser. "My lord—should I draw a ward? Something temporary? Just until we get back to the main path—?"
"No," Keiser said. His tone was quiet but firm.
"We don't have time—"
"I said no." Keiser's gaze didn't leave the sky. "It's already found us."
Above, the beast folded its wings—and began to dive.
"M-My lord, we have to—we have to run!"
Lenko's voice cracked in panic, but Keiser only grimaced.
There's another thing you should know about Keiser. He doesn't run from a fight. Not even ones he's likely to lose. He never had.
He tightened his grip on the stick in his hand—crude, heavy, nothing like a sword, but it would do.
Behind him, Lenko cowered, shouting at him to retreat, to return to the village. While the Princess kept insisting, demanding release. He couldn't focus on her now, didn't know how to help her even if he wanted to. But he knew this.
Once he holds a weapon, it becomes a sword.
Even in a body not his own. Even now.
This body—Muzio's—was a far cry from his own. It heaved for breath after a short sprint, trembled under strain, and sweat poured from it far too easily. The stick in his hands was thick and unwieldy. If he were still himself, he could've snapped it in two with one hand. Maybe even with just his fingers, if he really tried.
But this was his body now, whether he liked it or not.
And it had mana.
Not just that—it had the ability to read and write runes. Sigils. Something inside him had clicked, as if unlocking a door he hadn't realized was closed.
His hand trembled again—but not from fear. No, this was something else.
Warmth.
Then heat.
Searing.
It pulsed from his palm, crawling up the stick like fire drawn to oil.
The air split with shouting—and the screech of something flying overhead.
Keiser's eyes snapped upward.
It was fast. Massive.
A shadow cut through the light as wings beat the sky, at least six feet wide. Thick, dark fur. Long snout. Huge, widely spaced upright ears. Large, reflective eyes that zeroed in with terrifying precision.
A Pteropus.
He knew this monster. Bat-like, ruthless, and relentless. Keiser had fought its kind before during the war, especially near villages where prey was plentiful. These beasts always struck fast, often in groups, always insistent. They had a keen sense for weakness—and clearly, it had already picked its target.
It dove.
Straight at him.
Because of course it did.
Between him, a trembling boy hiding under a money pouch like it could buy him mercy, and a still on the ground, writhing princess screaming on the forest floor—the choice was obvious.
Muzio's body was the weakest. The slowest. The least threatening.
But Keiser wasn't.
As the Pteropus swooped in, shrieking, its wings slicing the air, Keiser gritted his teeth and swung the stick.
He threw his full weight into it, body protesting, lungs burning—but his grip was steady.
And the stick—burning with that strange heat—met the beast's body with a sharp crack.
The shout rang out.
But it wasn't from Lenko—still gawking in shock—nor from the princess, sprawled wide-eyed on the ground.
It came from the Pteropus.
The monstrous shriek tore through the air as the beast was blasted backward, crashing through the trees from the sheer force of a blow—from a stick.
Lenko stared, stunned.
His young lord—Muzio—stood with his hood blown back, his face flushed, almost glowing like polished alabaster. Sweat clung to his hair, damp strands sticking to his brow. He was panting, nearly wheezing for breath, chest rising in sharp, uneven intervals.
But his eyes—his eyes never left the Pteropus.
In his trembling grip, the stick still glowed red-hot.
The brief silence shattered with another screech overhead.
"My lord!" Lenko shouted, clutching Muzio's shoulder. Whatever focus had lit Muzio's eyes was gone the moment that piercing cry tore through the sky.
"We really need to go back to the village," Lenko urged, tugging at him. But Muzio stood unmoving, his gaze fixed on the stick in his hand—no longer glowing.
Then, he laughed. Low and bitter.
"This fucking body of mine," he muttered. "That's all it could manage? I inscribed 'wood-reinforce', 'beringei-force', 'haul-monster'—and that was it?"
Lenko frowned, following his gaze to the stick.
He flinched.
The wood was no longer solid. It was charred, brittle—cracking apart like burned charcoal.
"You overused it! That stick couldn't handle that much power! I can fight the Pteropus—just release me!" the girl shouted.
Their eyes snapped back to her. She had tilted her head just enough to watch them from where she lay, her expression sharp despite the not visible restraints.
Lenko scowled. "Why would we do that? You stole—"
His protest was abruptly cut off.
Keiser, without a word, reached out with the same hand that had wielded the now-charred stick. The ash still clung to his fingers as he pressed them against the girl's arm. He quickly traced a word—'Release'—letting the letters form into a crude sigil.
The moment the final stroke landed, the girl gasped, her body jolting upright. She looked at Muzio—no, at Keiser—with wide, stunned eyes.
"You… you're…" Her gaze locked onto him, recognition flashing across her face as she studied him closely.
Keiser didn't respond. He didn't have time.
The pressure in the air shifted again.
There were still monsters.
Her voice dropped, awed. "You didn't just undo one—you released all of them…"
Before he could reply, the sharp swoosh of a Pteropus diving cut through the moment.
Her eyes snapped up. She moved without hesitation—shrugging off her cloak, revealing the crisscrossed belts strapped with short twin blades. In a single, practiced motion, she unsheathed the short blade katanas and hurled it skyward.
The blade sliced through the air, hitting the diving beast square in the wing.
The Pteropus shrieked in agony, flailing midair, its wings thudding awkwardly as it tried to claw the weapon out with its snout.
She held out her hand. The sword shimmered with a faint blue glow, and the dagger snapped free from the Pteropus's wing with a whistle, arcing cleanly through the air back into her grasp. A long, jagged gash remained across the beast's wing as it plummeted from the sky.
Lenko shouted, yanking them both back just in time to avoid the full weight of the monster crashing into the ground with a sickening thud.
The blades spun once in her hands before she stilled them, twin blades gleaming faintly with residual glow. Keiser's eyes caught a small charm dangling from the hilt—etched with a rune. He hadn't noticed it earlier, but Muzio's mind read it instantly. 'Hit–Come–Back'.
Lenko clutched their shoulders from behind, trembling. "What was that? What was that? How did you do that?" he babbled, eyes wide with panic.
"Shut it—it's not over!" she snapped, her voice sharp, focused, eyes already scanning the treeline.
Keiser found himself watching her more intently now. It all made sense. The First Prince had chosen her for a reason. She wasn't just a decoy or a pretty blade-slinger—she was sharp, decisive, efficient.
A real contender.
His most trusted companion during the trial… now that choice made sense.
Another screech pierced the air. They looked up to see three Pteropus remaining. Princess Yona had already thrown her swords, striking two of the beasts swooping in simultaneously, while the third slipped past the fallen pair, gliding closer.
Keiser bent down and picked up a rock from beneath his feet, gripping it tightly in his aching hand. He muttered the rune under his breath—unsure if it would work. He didn't have the luxury to focus, to simply will it into reality like Muzio's body could. "Touch-blow-up" he murmured, feeling the mana swirl around the simple stone.
He hurled it with all his remaining strength—the rock sailed only a short distance from their position.
"Oh…"
"What are you doing?!" Yona exclaimed, reacting instantly. She kicked the stone, sending it hurtling toward the third Pteropus. The rock struck the beast's neck, embedding itself before detonating in a violent explosion.
As the smoke began to clear, Lenko coughed harshly, his breath ragged and uneven. Lenko winced at the sight of the remains scattering through the air, but Keiser merely observed, unmoved. Blood and gore had long ceased to shock him—he'd been drenched in it during the border wars, never once blinking for fear of losing sight of his prey.
Keiser felt the warmth draining from his body, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to open them fully. Yona swiftly sheathed her twin blades and grasped Keiser's arm, draping it over her shoulder for support.
"Oi, you…" Keiser gestured toward Lenko, waving his hand to brush away the lingering dust and smoke.
Lenko's eyes widened in alarm. "Your Highness!" he shouted urgently.
A sharp ringing filled Keiser's ears as he flinched involuntarily. Another hand gently took his own and rested it on a damp neck and shoulder nearby, grounding him in the moment.
Keiser didn't realize how far beyond his limits his body had already pushed. His limbs trembled, growing weak with every passing moment. The ringing in his ears drowned out all other sounds.
"Mana overuse?" Lenko whispered.
"No, I think it's anemia," Princess Yona replied.
"I'm only letting you touch His Highness because you helped us get rid of the beast—one we wouldn't have faced if you hadn't stolen from us!"
"Sure, next time don't flaunt it."
Keiser blinked past the dark smudges clouding his vision.
"Oh, shit, is he losing consciousness? Hey! You may look skinny, but you're still taller and heavier than us!"
And then, everything slipped away.
***
He woke up somewhere that smelled oddly familiar. The bed beneath him felt familiar too, though he wasn't sure if it was truly his.
"Muzio, are you awake?"
He glanced to the side and noticed the world moving in slow motion.
"Good. The runes worked, and soon you'll die."
Keiser blinked, or at least he thought he did, as darkness swallowed his vision before slowly returning again.
"Though it's quite concerning that you tried to come back. But I suppose it makes sense, given what you possess. You must have realized it by now, right?"
His eyes sharpened, taking in the figure sitting at the bedside—reading something that resembled a book. Their gray, murky eyes met his, stirring memories he'd never forget.
"Next time, kid, don't ruin my plan." Gideon's smile—kind and charming, the very smile that made people adore him—belied the cold calculation behind his words. Though his tone sounded warm and friendly, the message was unmistakably chilling.
Keiser watched as Gideon placed a hand over his eyes, plunging everything back into darkness. What started as a faint warmth quickly flared into searing pain, and Keiser felt it—sigils and runes carving themselves into place, burning beneath skin and bone.