The moment the door slammed open, the Death-Bringer was gone.
"Wha-"
The man who entered looked middle-aged. Strands of gray fell over his temples. His weathered face spoke of experience.
He was disheveled, panting heavily, his chest heaving as he stared at her.
They exchanged a long, intense look, both waiting for the other to act.
His eyes drifted toward the scattered pile of women's clothing. She followed his gaze.
Oh, no.
I realized exactly what this scene looked like: a man, fresh from chaos, rummaging through a woman's clothes with his pants torn. A lust-crazed servant look.
And the rotting corpse sealed the insanity.
She sighed, rubbing her temples.
There's nothing I can say. No one would believe me.
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, defeated.
His hardened expression carried confusion, disbelief, and suspicion all at once as his gaze snapped to the corpse.
"Could it be…"
He muttered, stroking his rough stubble. He needed proof. He stepped closer, his hand stopping directly in front of her face.
Assuming a blow was coming, she flinched, eyes squeezing shut. Then, she cautiously met his open palm.
"Are you messing with me right now? What is this insanity!? First that- ugh! Now this random guy doing weird hand tricks like some ancient spell? What is the point of this!?"
She was completely fed up and shoved his hand away.
His expression relaxed briefly before hardening again.
"So, you're an Echo-Bender."
"What the hell is an Echo-Bender!? What does that even mean!?"
She stopped herself from screaming, remembering the pitch of this body's voice. She covered her face, stifling the urge.
His expression twisted again, stranger than before.
"There are still soldiers after us. We have to move."
"Oh!"
Recognition dawned.
"So you're the man who told us to go in front of the gate!"
Wait. I only saw his back in the chaos. I shouldn't trust him either. What if he's a Death-Bringer too?
"Waaaa!"
Before she could finish the thought, she hit the grass with a dull thud.
He pushed me out the damn window!?
She lay stunned. Why the hell-
His boots landed beside her, quiet despite his size. She frowned up at him.
"Why the hell did you do that!?"
He gave her a deeply judgmental look.
"It's barely a two-meter drop. You'll live."
"Huh?"
This male body is surprisingly resilient. Nothing felt broken.
Groaning, she pushed herself up. If I were still a girl, he probably would've carried me down.
"You coming or what!?"
"Eh?"
He was already running. God, I just need a week of sleep.
-
The man was genuinely intrigued by the youth wearing Gralik's face.
Perhaps he finally found a thread linked to the Olgard Kingdom.
The kid walked too timidly, too clumsily, a stark contrast to the seasoned warriors he knew. This stirred his suspicion.
Leaving the palace required stealth. He couldn't risk shortcuts with an unknown person. He chose the shadows, weaving quickly through the narrow passages.
They moved in silence.
He kept observing the kid, inexperienced, entirely out of place.
This level of untrained raw power was unusual for an Echo-Bender.
He need information on the Death-Bringers, he decided.
For now, he'll be friendly.
-
The fear of getting caught crippled her.
I know I could jump if I wasn't terrified.
He, in contrast, moved like a blur, fast and precise.
When her feet finally hit the ground outside the walls, she grabbed his arm.
"Please, just take me home! Don't leave me here! They'll throw me straight into a grave!"
He shot her that same judgmental look, the one that said she was inherently wrong and disgusting. He pulled his arm free and kept walking.
"…"
Not helping at all.
With nothing else to do, she followed, desperately trying to memorize every turn. Past the walls, they entered a massive forest.
The animals here look utterly strange. She was already lost in thought.
"You can't walk into the city like that."
"Hm? I don't have any other clothes."
Without a word, he shrugged off his robe -a traditional tunic- and handed it to her.
As they walked, she could feel a strange, dense vibration in the air.
Actually, this place is kind of fascinating.
From here, she saw the city: busier, more colorful than the palace, though still dominated by the same reds and greens.
The deeper they went, the more alive the streets became. Merchants hawked odd trinkets and strange spices that made her nose tingle.
Trying not to lose sight of him in the dense crowd, she kept her eyes fixed on his back.
She'd forgotten how much her legs hurt. When he finally stopped, she followed him inside without thinking.
"Is this… a bar?"