-----Rudeus Greyrat POV----
When I shot Sebastian a sharp glance toward the water canteen beside my tent, he understood instantly. The boy bolted towards it without hesitation but that sudden burst of motion made the assassins twitch. One of them, panicked and reckless, threw his sword straight at the child.
SHIT!
Then as if time slows down and my mind went on overdrive, I opened my eye of foresight and looked into the future of the next 3 seconds.
Sword gets parried by the barrier
The barrier explodes
Sebastian limbs are sent in the air along with the black smoke.
A sword is struck in my throat
Back to the present
3 seconds
I force my limbs to move, but my body would not respond, I forced my mouth to speak but no sound came through.
2 seconds
I gathered mana in my hands, but the effects of the poison reverted my mana back to my core, damaging my internal body further and spurting blood through my mouth.
1 second
As if despair filled my heart and soul. One thought came into my mind.
Is this Game over?
*****3 Days ago*****
-----Rudeus Greayrat POV-----
"Master! Please teach me magic!"
There stands before his almighty presence... My pupil.
I've already turned him away, yet he keeps pestering me.
His mana pool is smaller than a mosquito's bladder.
Trying to cast spells with that?
It's like wanting to eat at fine dinning restaurant with pocket change...
"Kid. Repeat back what I've told you."
"..."
That look.
He knows the answer.
But I need him to say it—
To hear it aloud.
To feel the sting of it in his own voice.
Because no matter how pure his intentions, the world doesn't run on purity.
It runs on power. On cost.
"Sebastian?"
My voice cuts sharper now, edged with growing irritation.
He flinches.
"…I can't cast spells without mana." he whispers.
"Good. Now get out of my way—we're moving."
I stepped forward.
But the boy moved blocking my path.
"Oi—"
"We don't know unless we try!"
Then the irritation bottled up finally exploded.
"ENOUGH!"
My fist drove into his stomach.
He folded.
I then kicked him aside.
He hit the ground hard, twitching in pain.
I didn't spare him a glance.
Not for this pathetic exchange.
Not for a dream built on delusion.
If words won't reach him, maybe agony will.
Let the pain teach him.
Then, just as I stepped forward—
A grip tight around my ankle.
I turned slowly.
There he was, collapsed on the ground.
One hand clutching his stomach, the other wrapped around me like a lifeline.
I looked down.
And met his eyes.
Strange.
Where have I seen that look before?
*****Later that evening*****
As we head north, the cold deepens. A single gust freezes my cheeks, and with it, old memories stir from the cold.
Nostalgia, I guess. From the days I wandered the northern lands in search for my mother.
So much has happened since then.
I kept picking solo quests, trying to spread my name. Then there was that one adventuring party that insisted on accompanying me. And in that party, that's where I met her.
The blonde girl.
The one who made me realize my first failure in manhood.
I was truly devastated back then.
But looking back… I can only reminisce. That pain was what brought me and Sylphie together.
Once we moved into the new mansion, time felt endless. Nothing came closer to true happiness.
And I took it for granted.
My jaw tightens.
'You only start to value things once they're gone'
How poetic.
Tch.
I then hear Sebastian walking towards me.
"Master!"
Ugh, how annoying. That little runt just won't leave me alone.
"For the last time I wont teach you-"
"Please teach me how to cook!"
…Huh?
What the hell is this? How do you go from wanting to be a magician to a chef?
"What's the deal, kid? Sudden change of heart?"
"No! I still want to cast magic! But I figured if I start handling the meals, maybe you'd finally have more time to teach me magic!"
This brat…
Already learning basic trade mechanics?
He's sharper than he looks.
However, a sour feeling fills my chest.
Probably because I was thinking about my time with Sylphie at Ranoa, those quiet nights teaching each other magic after dinner were some of the most cherished moments of my life.
I've come to realize that I know roundabout methods for casting magic. They're unorthodox, but simple enough for the boy to learn and practice. It would take time, a great deal of effort from both of us. But if he endures the hardship, he'll eventually be able to cast magic.
So the reason I lashed out at him earlier… deep down, I was scared.
I never intended to teach this boy magic. His sudden request caught me off guard, and it made me uncomfortable.
It's strange. I'm starting to forget memories that once defined me. Things that were the foundation of who I am.
So the thought of investing so much time and effort into guiding him… Makes me afraid. Afraid that I'd overwrite the memories I hold dear. The ones I made with Sylphie.
Those quiet, heartwarming moments feel fragile now. Like they're slipping away.
"..."
Yeah, the boy wouldn't understand.
But I want Sylphie to be the last person I ever taught magic before hitting the grave.
As I opened my mouth to deny his request, I looked at his face.
There was that irritating look from early before.
But now... For some reason... It feels oddly familiar...
...
This boy… he's still chasing something.
A dream, maybe. Or something deeper. A purpose to fulfill in this world.
And somehow, I've become the one standing in front of him.
The guide. The mentor. The one who's supposed to light the path.
But me?
I'm nothing.
Just a hollow shell clinging to the scraps of a name that used to mean something.
A selfless, worthless piece of shit dressing up manipulation as mentorship.
How the hell did I end up here?
Teaching a kid to chase glory I no longer believe in.
Grooming him to fight battles I'm too broken to finish.
All in the name of some "great cause" that feels more like a graveyard than a legacy.
I closed my eyes.
Resolved to turn him down. To walk away before I made another mistake.
But as I opened my mouth to speak, the words caught in my throat.
Then I felt it.
A soft hand on my shoulder.
Gentle. Familiar.
I flinched and turned, heart pounding.
No one.
Just the wind.
Cold. Restless. Whispering through the trees.
I stood there, frozen.
But that touch…
It was real.
Too real.
Such soft hands…
There's no way I could have mistaken them.
Not hers.
Even after all these years.
"Master?"
"..."
I placed my hand over the lingering warmth on my shoulder.
Tears welled up as I knelt, letting the cold stream wash over my face.
Without turning to face the boy, I whispered, barely audible.
"If your cooking's better than mine… I'll consider it."
"Eh?!"
"Huh? Do you not want to learn magic?"
"No? I mean—yes! Yes, I want to learn magic!"
I turned my head slightly, just enough to catch his expression.
Wide-eyed. Hopeful. Like he'd just been handed a Christmas present.
"Then go prep the ingredients. It's dinner time."
His eyes lit up.
"Yes, chef!"
He bolted off, adrenaline rushing through him like a spell gone right.
I looked back at the sky.
The water on my face had started to freeze as the cold wind swept through this quiet night.
*****2 Days Ago*****
-----Rudeus Greyrat POV----
Back in my original world, there was a famous tale, timeless.
A boy with no name, no lineage, pulled the sword from the stone. The impossible made real. And beside him stood the great sage, guiding him toward destiny.
So… you see where I'm going with this?
Maybe, just maybe, I thought the kid might be him.
The one who defies the odds. Who pulls power from nothing. Who casts spells in grand arcs despite a mana pool that barely flickers.
Screaming at the sky, lungs burning, heart wide open—
"I will not yield! Not to fate and certainly not to prophecy!"
But reality… is cruel.
There he was, face down in the dirt. Probably passed out from mana exhaustion.
Hopeless.
He barely made it to the third word of the Water Ball chant.
"Master…"
I heard his voice through the vibrations in the earth.
So the boy was still conscious.
Looking at him now, collapsed and barely breathing, it makes me question yesterday's resolution.
Was I hallucinating back then?
Did I really believe he could be the one?
I looked at his trembling form, and the words slipped out before I could stop them.
"Give up, Sebastian. You simply don't have what it takes."
"..."
I saw his hand tighten around the grass.
Then, slowly, he lifted his head. His eyes were still burning with determination.
"Master! I saw you casting spells without a chant! How do you do that?"
"Urgh, boy… fine. I've memorized the chant through my body. Think of it like muscle memory. My body casts the spell on its own."
"And can I—"
"No. It doesn't change the fact that you still need the same amount of mana, whether you speak the chant or not."
"…"
This is a waste of time.
We'll just keep going in circles like this.
Even if I teach him the unorthodox method of casting spells, it won't change the fundamental truth. There's no such thing as casting magic without mana.
It's like trying to move a car. Whether you fill the tank with diesel or petroleum, the type of fuel might change the performance, but you still need something to ignite combustion.
I know this better than anyone.
I spent my early twenties researching in how to optimize mana consumption for the magic armor. Years of trial, failure, and recalibration.
And just like the law of conservation held true in my old world, Nanahoshi proved it here too.
But I know the answer is somewhere in my mind… buried deep.
I just need to dig it out.
I sat down, crossed my legs, placed my hands on my knees, and closed my eyes.
Then I began to pull the air around me, cold and warm, spinning it into a vortex.
Dark clouds gathered overhead. The wind grew violent. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
I will cast Columbiums until my mana runs dry.
Maybe the exhaustion will jolt this stupid old brain into remembering.
"Master? What's going on?"
"I'm thinking. Kid, grab onto something."
Rain began to pour. The air thickened. The world grew louder.
When was it?
A gust of wind whipped around me, lifting branches and leaves into a spiral.
I've run out of mana more times than I can count.
Thunder cracked louder.
But there was one time… one time I kept casting even without mana.
The cracks of wood around me groaned against the wind, screaming as the storm grew wild.
It was a night like this. I was desperate. Reckless.
Then a blinding bolt of lightning struck the tree in front of me.
I opened my eyes.
The fire left behind a crimson red glow, intense, burning deep into the bark.
That color…
I remember now.
It was the night I lost Eris.
*****20 Years Ago*****
-----Eris Greyrat POV-----
I tossed a copper coin toward the bartender.
"Ale."
Then I slumped onto the bar top with a heavy sigh.
That idiot… He's hopeless. Why do I still follow him around?
"Uh… Madam?"
My eyebrow twitched.
Madam? Did he just call me Madam? What am I, eighty?
I turned my eyes toward him and gave him a glare sharp enough that would pierce this man's soul.
He flinched.
"What is it?"
"Eh—ah—this isn't enough for an ale…"
"Huh? What are you saying?"
My voice rose, and I could feel the frown twisting my face.
This idiot has a punch able face.
"Eris, calm down."
A hand settled on my shoulder, firm but gentle, guiding me back to the counter.
I glanced up at the soothing voice.
There she stood, tall, muscular, wrapped in a revealing leather outfit that left her scarred brown skin exposed. Her animalistic characteristic of wolf like ears and a tail like a tigers representing the beast-folk race.
I shot another glare at the bartender, then turned away.
"Hmph!"
The bartender still confused and scared, shifted her gaze between the two swordsmen.
"The ale was two copper coins, right?" Ghislaine asked.
"Eh… yes?"
She tossed another coin onto the counter.
The bartender snatched it up and fled into the backroom.
Tch.
How embarrassing.
My master paying for her student to drink away her stress.
I wish she'd just leave me behind already. Forget me.
Just like he did.
Argh. That feeling again.
I hate it.
"Here is your ale…?"
I snatched the cup from the bartender before she could finish the sentence and downed it in one go.
Then slammed it onto the counter.
A warm feeling spread through my chest.
Better.
"Eris…"
"…What?"
"Isn't this enough?"
"…"
"We've already talked about this. You don't have to do this anymore."
The words echoed in my ears, each syllable tightening the knot in my chest.
"Rudeus doesn't need you anymore. This isn't your fight."
I trembled.
The man who once looked at me with the warmest, kindest eyes… now stared with distance. With contempt.
"After so many years. You gave Rudeus everything and then he pushed you out. Why would go back and keep looking after him?"
Did I… choose the wrong path after all?
I thought strength would be enough. That if I trained harder, fought longer, became someone no one could ignore… I'd finally be worthy.
But even after all this after all this power, I still don't have the courage to speak the one truth that matters.
I love him.
And I could never tell him.
My hands clenched into fists, nails biting into skin. My chest tightened. My eyes burned.
All this strength… and I'm still a coward.
Ghislaine's ear twitched. She watched me in silence for a moment, then sighed—low and heavy, like she'd been holding it in for years.
"Eris," she said softly. "Come back with me, to the Asura Kingdom."
Those words blanked my mind.
"Uh? Are you… leaving?"
"Yes," Ghislaine said, her voice steady. "I received a letter. Intel confirms they've found your grandfather's murderer."
Her expression shifted—cold rage etched into every line of her face. Her aura darkened, thick with contempt and vengeance.
"I will make them pay," she said. "And fulfill my debt to the Boreas house."
She's leaving.
Should I go with her?
The question trembled out of me before I could swallow it.
"What about Rudeus…"
Ghislaine shifted her head slightly, then voice was low.
"Mad Sword King."
I looked up.
"Quagmire has chosen his path. Now you must choose yours."
My path… I wonder what it is...
Back at the Sword Sanctum, I was so sure. So certain that I'd meet Rudeus again, and we'd stand side by side against the Dragon God.
So when I heard he was growing stronger and respected, I was thrilled. The thought, that he hasn't forgotten about me lit up my heart.
But then I saw him in Ranoa.
And he was… broken.
That moment shattered everything I'd built in my mind, throwing our reunion out of rhythm.
From that point on, it was all downhill.
I tried talking to him.
Really, I did.
But I've never been good with words. And Rudeus… he always had a way of twisting the things that I said. Making it sound like something else. Something stupid. Something small.
So eventually, I stopped trying.
I just started beating him.
Not out of anger, well, not just anger. But because I thought maybe, somehow, he'd understand.
That he'd see through the bruises and the shouting and realize I was still waiting.
Waiting for him to fix things.
Waiting for him to come back to me.
Like he always used to.
But he didn't.
And he never came.
Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months.
And all that was left inside me was anger.
Frustration.
And the hollow ache of someone who gave everything but was left behind.
Why doesn't he understands me?
Somewhere along the way, this turned into something twisted.
I've developed this strange obsession with Rudeus. I know he's fallen deep into his own darkness, chasing gods, power or whatever else he thinks will fill the void.
So I watched him.
Not out of love.
Out of fear.
Fear that he'd do something stupid. That he'd disappear completely.
And just like that… Twenty years passed.
Ghyslaine stayed by my side the whole time. Never questioned me. Never tried to pull me back. Just stood there, silent and steady, like she always does.
But yesterday, in the middle of a pub, Rudeus claimed a bold statement.
I will challenge and kill the Death God!
And for the first time in years… I felt something.
My heart lit up.
The thought of standing beside him again, fighting a World Power, shoulder to shoulder, that was what I've always wanted! And maybe... After we kill the Death God... We could mend our broken relationship!
So when I saw him early this morning, walking down the road, I didn't hesitate.
I stepped into his path.
And for once, I didn't reach for my sword.
I reached for my voice.
I gathered every ounce of courage, and spoke the words that had weighed on my heart for years.
I will fight with you against the Death God!
There. I said it.
The words I'd buried for years. The ones that clawed at my chest every time I saw him walk away.
Now please, Rudeus… please understand me. Like you always used to.
Then he narrowed his eyes.
You want to steal the Death God's title from me?
His voice sharpened, cutting through the air like a blade. My eyes widened and I was left momentarily speechless.
I've always wondered why you kept stalking me all these years. But now I get it. You were just clinging to me for the fame. For the reputation I built.
My hands clenched tighter around my sword.
But the next words that came out of his mouth…
They hurt more than any wound I'd ever taken in battle. More than broken ribs, torn muscle, or the sting of steel against flesh.
I don't need you. If you try to get on my way, I'll kill you.
Then I saw it.
That hateful look in the eyes of the man I once loved.
Eyes that used to soften when they met mine.
But now… they were cold and distant.
And the reflection of the girl he once loved—
She was gone.
Erased.
Like I'm nothing.
Like I never mattered.
Like all those years were just a mistake that he is trying to forget.
...
And here I am… drinking those moments away.
Tears spilled before I could stop them.
hic
"I hate this…"
My voice cracked, barely louder than the rain beginning to tap against the window.
Then I felt it a warm hand on the back of my head, fingers gently brushing through my hair.
"Eris. Let's go."
snif
"…Okay."
Ghyslaine didn't say anything else. She didn't need to.
But a faint smile tugged at her lips. Not joy. Not pity.
Just… understanding.
And just like that, we were riding in a cart, the city shrinking behind us with every turn of the wheel. Its frame blurred by distance and rain.
Dark clouds gathered overhead. The road ahead was long...
But maybe…
Maybe this was for the better.
As those words crossed my mind, a flash of light purple light split the sky and struck the forest just beyond the city.
The sound followed a heartbeat later. Deep. Bone-shaking.
"What was that?"
Ghyslaine jolted upright in the cart. She moved fast pulling back the hood and lifting the patch over her left eye.
She stared toward the forest, now flickering with flame.
Her eye widened.
"What a ridiculous amount of mana…"
Those words have triggered something deep inside me, and the back of my head screamed at me, while a sudden empty cold feeling has filled my stomach making me sick.
In the next breath, the ground started to tremble.
Rays of lightning came crashing down on the same spot, again and again, as if the heavens themselves were trying to erase whatever had awakened.
The forest roared, flames devouring trees despite the heavy downpour.
And then came the final act.
A black dome erupted from the epicenter, swallowing the forest whole.
The world fell silent.
"Rudeus!"
A surge of adrenaline flooded my veins, igniting every nerve with raw power.
I was about to hop off the off the cart when something caught my wrist.
"Eris!"
I turned.
Ghyslaine's eyes met mine.
"..."
But I couldn't stop.
"Sorry, Ghyslaine."
I broke her grip.
Heart pounding, legs coiled like springs.
And then I ran.
I sprinted toward the black dome.
Towards him.
This is the path I choose.
Not the waiting.
Not the silence.
But the fight.