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[BACKGROUND MUSIC: EXCISION – BASS CANNON]

23 Years Ago…

Active Skill: Hard Swing
Description: Wow, an active skill right off the bat. How lucky for you. You can swing stuff with your hands really hard.

Van stared at the skill description, meticulously scanning every word as if searching for a hidden meaning or some overlooked detail. But there was nothing. No deeper purpose. No hidden nuance.

“Are you kidding me…?” he murmured to himself, lying on the cold ground shortly after he and Magus had been summoned. His voice was low, tinged with frustration. “What the hell am I supposed to do with a skill this useless?”

For a long time, I took this skill at face value. It was garbage. Utterly useless. And the mocking tone of the description didn’t help. It didn’t need to be insulting for me to realize how worthless it seemed.

So, I clung to the other skill I had, which essentially made me immortal. It made sense to think that way.

————————————–

‘But I can’t rely on this skill right now,’ Van thought, his steps steady yet deliberate as he advanced.

‘If I die, he’ll kill them all. I can’t let that happen.’

[This is the second time you’ve pissed me off…!!!] Kota growled, his voice laced with fury. [You attack so vigorously, it seems you’ve forgotten that you lost ALL of your Resistance stat, reduced to 500!!]

His lips curled into a sadistic grin as he raised his arms. [How about I remind you!?]

Dozens of magic circles materialized above Kota’s head, crackling with violent energy. They erupted, unleashing a rapid onslaught of massive fire shots, so bright and intense they lit up the entire cavern in a hellish glow as they barreled toward Van.

“[FIRE BARRAGE]!” Kota roared, his voice reverberating through the cave.

“Tsche..!” Van grunted, immediately breaking into a sprint.

‘I can’t parry all of them! My Perception stat is down to 500—I can barely track their trajectories!’ he thought, narrowly dodging firebolt after firebolt.

His movements became erratic as he zigzagged and rolled, evading each blast by mere inches.

[DANCE, HELLIX, DANCE FOR ME!] Kota shouted, his tone teetering on manic glee. [Your [Hard Swing] means JACK if you can’t use it!]

‘Fuck…!’ Van cursed inwardly, gritting his teeth as he narrowly dodged another fiery explosion. He couldn’t deny Kota’s words. Without the chance to utilize Hard Swing, he was on the defensive.

The searing heat radiated all around him, oppressive and unrelenting. His black-metal dwarven armor deflected some of the intense flames, but the heat was beginning to take its toll.

‘I can feel it… If it weren’t for this armor, I’d already be cooked alive. But even black metal has its limits—it’ll melt if I take a direct hit!’

His thoughts were interrupted as a firebolt, hidden behind one he had parried, tore through the air, closing in on him too quickly to react.

‘SHIT…!!’

The bolt connected.

BOOM!

The explosion sent Van hurtling through the air, slamming him hard against the cave wall.

“GAAHH..!!” He gasped, the impact knocking the wind out of him. Pain seared through his body as he crumpled to the ground, the heat intensifying.

Sweat poured down his face but instantly vaporized, and beneath his armor, his skin began to sear, the metal pressing unbearably against him. His vision blurred, the heat threatening to overwhelm him entirely.

‘IT BURNS…!’ Van grunted, pushing through the pain as he used the dust cloud to slip away, his body still responding despite the searing agony.

‘How does it work? Is he controlling the skill directly, or is it automated…!? How the hell do I stop this!?’ Van’s mind raced as he ran, his eyes darting toward Kota, trying to read his gestures or gaze. But the endless barrage of flames obscured everything.

‘SHIT…! He has no openings… I have to figure out a way to bypass this!’ His thoughts scrambled, desperation clawing at his focus as his burnt skin throbbed painfully beneath his armor.

‘I didn’t want to admit it, but he’s right. His flames are hotter than Alicia’s, even though he’s ridiculously outclassed stat-wise. Damn it… DAMN IT…!! I need to stop those flames!’

Suddenly, a memory surfaced—an instinctual recall of the skeleton from earlier, which had been instantly neutralized by the Guardian of Wind’s Vacuum.

“[SUMMON]! Come out, Guardian of Wind!” Van shouted, his voice ragged as he sprinted away from the barrage.

Kota sneered, his confidence unwavering. [Ah, there’s her too.] His tone dripped with condescension. [I didn’t even bother registering her presence. An A-Ranked spirit? Laughable. But, by all means, bring her out. Writhe and struggle all you want.]

The Guardian appeared in an instant, her ethereal form taking shape. Without waiting for instructions, she conjured a wind barrier, blocking the incoming fire attacks before they could reach Van.

[What is the meaning of this, Van!? Wasn’t he your ally!?] she cried, her voice strained as she winced under the relentless assault.

Van steadied his breath, his gaze fixed on the fiery barrage crashing against her shield.

“Guardian, I need you to Vacuum his immediate—AH!” Van suddenly dropped to his knees, gasping for air as his strength seemed to abandon him.

‘What is… happening…!? Why do I feel so weak all of a sudden!?’ His mind reeled as his body grew heavier, his limbs trembling under their own weight.

His eyes flickered toward the Guardian, and realization struck as he noticed her struggling to hold the barrier.

With a trembling hand, he summoned his status window.

Mana: 0/2,000! YOUR MANA RAN OUT!

‘Right… Haah… When mana runs out, any attempt to use a spell draws directly on your health. Back when I wasn’t sealed, it didn’t matter—I had billions of health points to spare. But now…’

His gaze shifted back to the Guardian, the strain on her form unmistakable.

‘She’s blocking a spell far beyond her rank… It’s draining my mana in seconds! FUCK…! If I want to end this, it has to be now!’

Gritting his teeth, Van forced himself to his feet, his battered body trembling under the weight of his decision.

“VACUUM THE AIR AROUND HIM!!! LIKE YOU DID THAT SKELETON!! NOW!!!” Van shouted at the Guardian, his voice strained but commanding.

[I CAN’T…! I CAN’T BLOCK THAT BARRAGE AND DO THAT AT THE SAME TIME!!] she cried out, her ethereal form trembling as she struggled to maintain the barrier. Van could feel himself growing weaker by the second.

“…Then do this,” Van said, his voice low but resolute.

The barrage continued, relentless and unforgiving. The flames illuminated the cavern in a hellish glow, the heat growing more oppressive with every passing second.

[Hmph, is he on death’s door by now?] Kota mused, a smirk playing on his lips. [Oh well, just for good measure, I’ll keep it up for another—]

His thought was cut short as an armored figure suddenly emerged from the wall of fire. A great gust of wind propelled him forward, his greatsword already poised for a devastating vertical swing.

[What…!?]

“[HARD SWING]!!!” Van roared, his voice cutting through the flames as the blade descended. The heat seared his flesh beneath his armor, but he worked through the pain, focused only on the strike.

[NOOO—!!!] Kota screamed as Van’s sword cleaved him cleanly in two.

— Moments Earlier —

“Propel me through the flames with your wind. The moment you do, I’ll unsummon you and cut him down,” Van commanded the Guardian amidst the chaos.

She hesitated only for a moment before nodding, her winds surging around him.

—————————————-

‘I GOT HIM…!’ Van thought, exhilaration surging through his battered body as Kota’s two halves fell lifeless to the ground. But the victory was short-lived as Van’s momentum carried him upward, slamming him into the cavern ceiling before crashing back down.

Exhausted, he lay on the ground, his breath ragged.

‘Wait…’ A creeping unease settled over him as he replayed the strike in his mind. His gaze darted to the remnants of Kota’s form, and his heart sank.

‘There’s no aura… no dark energy…’

His stomach twisted with realization just as slow, deliberate clapping echoed from behind him.

[…Bravo,] Kota’s voice rang out, smooth and mocking. The severed form of his body dissolved into flames, vanishing without a trace.

Van didn’t waste a second. Without even turning to face Kota, he pinpointed the source of the voice and acted immediately.

“[SUMMON]! Guardian of Wind!!” he shouted, his voice hoarse but unwavering. The Guardian materialized in an instant.

“YOU CAN SEE HIM NOW, CAN’T YOU!? CHOKE HIM OUT!!” Van barked, pointing toward Kota.

The Guardian didn’t hesitate, summoning a whirlwind that constricted Kota, creating a vacuum around him to suffocate him completely.

[Hmph,] Kota grunted, his lips curling in mild amusement as the air around him compressed. [Not bad…]

[For a noob,] he added, before puffing his chest and exuding a powerful pressure of heat. The force expanded the vacuum, breaking the Guardian’s circle in an instant with a violent eruption.

Van screamed as the immense mana drain transitioned into health loss, his body wracked with agony.

‘FUCK… AH… If she stays summoned any longer, I’m done for…!’

“GAAHH… Un… Un…summon…” Van croaked, his voice barely above a whisper as he forced himself to dismiss the Guardian.

The Guardian faded back into the spirit world, a faint grunt of satisfaction escaping her lips as she disappeared.

‘Summoners have the easiest time, MY ASS…!’ Van thought bitterly, still collapsed on the ground. His body trembled as he flipped onto his stomach, coughing up blood through his helmet. Slowly, he began to rise to his knees, spitting crimson as he steadied himself.

‘You have to know the spirit inside and out to understand which attacks drain your mana the most and act around it…’ he thought, grimacing.

‘And I guess she’s still holding a grudge over my comments,’ he thought, the memory of her satisfied grunt as she faded lingering in his mind.

[GOOD,] Kota’s voice boomed suddenly, halting Van mid-motion. [Stay that way. Stay kneeling. It suits you. Someone like you should remain groveling before me.]

Kota’s voice turned cold, biting. [I may even feel merciful toward your friends if you do…]

His lips curled into a smirk. ‘Just kidding,’ he thought to himself.

“…You…” Van muttered, coughing as he forced himself to stand. “Fucker.”

The movement caused Kota to flinch, his composure cracking for just a moment.

“A shadow clone…?” Van asked, his voice sharp despite the pain.

[FLAME Clone,] Kota corrected with a sly smirk. [And I can summon up to ten of those, all capable of firing Fire Barrage simultaneously. That, and also…]

His voice trailed off ominously as his grin widened.

[Ten minutes remaining, Hellix. Then, I’m maiming you.] He let out the reminder with malicious glee, his words sending a faint flinch through Van.

“…Right,” Van exhaled unevenly, steadying himself as he raised his greatsword once more. Despite the oppressive odds, his steps began advancing toward Kota with quiet determination, undeterred.

‘Resilient little bastard, aren’t you?’ Kota thought, clicking his tongue in irritation.

[Alright then. How about I show you a new trick?] Kota said, his smirk deepening as he spread his arms wide and called out:

“[SUMMON: UNDEAD ARMY]!”

The ground beneath him rumbled as flaming skeletons began clawing their way out from below. Dozens quickly became hundreds, and hundreds turned into a thousand, their flickering flames casting an eerie glow across the cavern. Each skeleton wielded a unique weapon—a casting wand, massive gauntlets, a berserker’s polearm—and together they surrounded Van, their firelight illuminating the overwhelming odds.

‘Hm,’ Van thought, his mind racing as he eyed the skeletal army encircling him, with Kota hovering above, his flames burning ever brighter.

[These skeletons,] Kota began, his tone dripping with smugness, [can cast every attack they wielded in life. I can command each one individually. I can merge them to create stronger, higher-tiered skeletons. I can enhance them with my magic… hell, they can even do chores—]

“Can they hold a tune?” Van interrupted, smirking beneath his helmet, his burnt lips stinging from the movement.

[…] Silence filled the cavern, save for the crackling flames licking the air.

[You don’t get it,] Kota growled, his voice trembling with irritation. [I’m telling you that you’re going to die!]

Van remained calm, opening his status window with a nonchalant swipe, his attention seemingly elsewhere. “I heard you,” he muttered, almost disinterested as his eyes scanned his skills.

‘This fucker…’ Kota thought, his irritation mounting. ‘He’s just been clubbed, burned, and thrown around like a ragdoll. His skin is undoubtedly seared under that armor, and his own metal plating is cooking him alive… yet he cracks a joke? Is he insane?’

“No,” Van said flatly, as if reading Kota’s mind, causing the latter to flinch.

“I’m just used to getting burned,” Van added, his tone devoid of emotion, sending a chill through Kota’s spine.

‘He’s nothing but a weakling. Take away his stats, and he’s just a meat bag… So why do I feel uneasy? He’s out of mana, out of options, completely surrounded. If he dies, his party dies too. He’s bluffing! He has to be!’

Kota’s mind raced with conflicting thoughts as Van continued to scroll through his skill window, seemingly oblivious to the threat around him.

‘I don’t fully understand what Arcane is, nor the [Seed of Darkness] passive. The description is too cryptic to make sense of it. I can’t rely on something I don’t understand.’

Van scrolled back to the top of his skill window, his eyes locking onto the first skill he had ever read aloud.

Active Skill: Hard Swing

Description: Wow, an active skill right off the bat. How lucky for you. You can swing stuff with your hands really hard.

[FUCK THIS. Everyone, JUMP HIM AT ONCE! KILL HIM!!] Kota roared, and in an instant, the horde of skeletons leaped toward Van, thousands at a time.

As the skeletons closed in, Van’s mind drifted to a memory, the skill still highlighted on his status window.

—————————

“Say, Van,” Magus asked during one of their early journeys. “I’ve been wondering about your skill…”

“What about it?” Van replied, barely looking up.

“Just… what exactly counts as a swing?”

——————————

‘I guess I’m about to find out, Magus,’ Van thought, gripping his sword tighter as the skeletons piled onto him, creating an enormous bonfire that engulfed him entirely.

[Hmph, how boring…] Kota sighed, turning away as he began hovering toward the cavern’s exit, where the rest of the party awaited. [As I thought, he was just bluffing—]

BOOOOOOOOOM.

A deafening explosion shattered the cavern’s stillness. The massive pile of flaming skeletons was obliterated in an instant, their remnants scattering like shrapnel. Bones and shards of armor flew in every direction, ricocheting off the walls and slamming into Kota’s energy shield repeatedly.

[WHAT THE…!?] Kota spun around, his eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at the carnage.

At the epicenter of the destruction stood Van, his armor scorched but intact. His greatsword was tightly gripped in his hands, its edge glowing faintly from the force of the swing. Around him, the skeletons’ broken forms began to slowly regenerate, reassembling themselves piece by piece.

Van’s mind echoed a singular thought:

Active Skill:
[Hard Swing]

[IMPOSSIBLE!!!] Kota bellowed, his voice laced with frustration. [How the fuck did you do that!? You were supposed to die!!] He screamed, his composure slipping into raw fury.

Van didn’t answer immediately, his breath steadying as he adjusted his stance. His helmet tilted upward slightly, his gaze locking onto Kota through the fiery haze.

“…I swung,” he said simply.

—– SOME TIME EARLIER——–

[What kind of abilities does this guy have, My Goddess?] he asked, kneeling in the dim glow of his cave. His voice carried a reverence, as if he dared not question her authority, yet his words pressed for answers; and though no one stood before him, he spoke as if she were right there.

The reply came swiftly, her voice laced with unwavering confidence. [There’s one ability worth noting first: a newly acquired [Seed of Darkness]. It’s still in its early stages, so it shouldn’t pose much of a problem for you. The other is a passive called Dark Soul, which is tied to his immortality. It’s a bit more unfair than your version, but with your skillset, you should have no trouble obliterating him—body and spirit.]

The voice lingered, cold and calculating. [He essentially revives every time he’s killed, returning in perfect condition. That’s the only thing you need to account for. Break his will to live, and even that will become null; as I’m certain you know. Aside from that, his skills are… how do you say it? “Utter trash” compared to yours.]

He furrowed his brow, his voice soft but insistent. […Anything else I should know about, my Goddess?]

A sigh, filled with exasperation, echoed in his mind. [Very well,] she relented, her tone sharp and dismissive. [He only has one Active Skill; one that makes him swing his sword harder than usual. I haven’t bothered to recall the specifics; it’s that redundant. That’s all. Get it done.]

Her presence faded, leaving the cave silent once more.

————- PRESENT —————-

‘So, any sword he swings becomes a devastating force because of that skill?’ Unicus’s mind raced, ‘It pierced my passive mana shield—500 stat points strong. That means it must multiply his strength by twofold… maybe more. Just how hard does he swing?’

He took a slow, measured breath, his posture relaxing as clarity washed over him. ‘No need to overthink this. All I have to do is watch out for his sword. He, on the other hand, has to watch out…’

A smirk crept onto his lips. ‘…For far too many things.’

‘You’ll lose,’ His thoughts darkened, sharpening into resolve. ‘And then, I will take my rightful place by her side.’

Unicus then wiped blood from his face, [She underestimated you a little, Hellix.] His tone carried the weight of confidence, though his eyes narrowed as he regarded his opponent.

[Though, only a little.]

‘No time to delay the inevitable,’ he thought, raising his arm with purpose. The group instinctively stepped back as Unicus began to rise, flames roaring beneath him like a fiery tempest, propelling him effortlessly into the air. Heat radiated from his body, thick and suffocating, pressing down on those below as he aimed his hand at them.

‘Compared to me, you’re nothing. I am the strongest fire wizard this world—or any world—has ever known. My skills are beyond anything you could even comprehend. You’re already dead, Hellix.’

“UNICUS!!!” Sylva screamed, her voice breaking, tears streaming down her face. “FIGHT!!! FIGHT WHOEVER’S TRYING TO CONTROL YOU!!! THIS ISN’T YOU!!!”

[Silence, girl,] Unicus replied coldly, his voice devoid of humanity. [I see this as an act of defiance. I thought of keeping you around as a plaything, but this seals your fate.]

His palm began to glow ominously as he spoke. [Turn into skeletons,] he declared.

Vaelthir’s eyes widened, his long ears twitching. He understood immediately. Something devastating was coming.

They all felt it.

The way Unicus’s voice echoed in their minds, bypassing the air itself. That dead, unyielding stare in his eyes left no room for doubt. He wasn’t jesting. He wasn’t bluffing. In mere seconds, they would all turn into skeletons, and there was nothing they could do about it.

Vaelthir moved without hesitation, leaping to Sylva’s side and pulling her into his arms.

Yes.

Even the proud elf, known for his unshakable skill and confidence, did the only thing he thought possible. He shielded her with his body.

Because the truth was, he had respected Unicus—as both a man and a warrior. For someone as noble and proud as Unicus to speak with such malice, to wield such a foreign and twisted tone, was unthinkable. And now, they were trapped in the same cave that had already claimed sixteen lives—Unicus’s own included.

What more could be done?

“Vaelthir…!!” Sylva gasped, her voice trembling.

Arnolt looked at the elf, his shock evident. Why? Why are you shielding her like that? Fight him! he wanted to yell. Do something, ya’ arrogant prune! But deep down, he could feel it too.

And in the dwarf’s eyes, there was no sentiment left—only inevitability. Yet, as a dwarf, there was one thing he knew how to do. He gripped his axe tightly and raised it, pointing it at the figure once called Unicus.

“YOU BASTARD!!! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!!” one of the human warriors suddenly screamed, his voice cracking in desperation.

The outburst startled them all. He turned, pointing an accusatory finger at Van.

“IF IT WEREN’T FOR YOU, WE WOULDN’T HAVE RETURNED HERE!!!” he bellowed, his voice filled with rage and despair.

The sight of the strongest warriors in the group losing faith had broken something inside him.

Savathon, towering above the others, could only watch silently. His height allowed him to see beyond the chaos, beyond the panicked faces. He saw him.

At the front, at the vanguard, Van stood firm, gripping his greatsword. The impossible odds before him didn’t shake him. So like the dwarf, Savathon readied himself, gripping his last remaining khukri, prepared to strike at whatever came next.

Unicus watched them all, his lips curling into a smirk.

[Hmph,] he sneered, drinking in their despair.

‘Intercept this, Hellix,’ he thought, his eyes narrowing. ‘This is one of my most overpowered skills. No one can see it. No one can stop it. And when you burn to cinders, the only thing left will be the ashes on those steel-covered arms of yours—the ashes of those you swore to protect. The ashes of those you swore never to leave behind.’

His smirk widened.

‘And once you despair, I’ll find you again. And I’ll do it all over again to everyone you care about. My flames burn hotter than even the Demon Lord’s. And maybe… maybe I’ll fool around with The Demon Lord while I’m at it. After all, isn’t that what Varolia wants? To break you?’

He chuckled darkly. ‘No… After all, only Varolia is on my mind. I said to that elf girl I’d keep her just to break her spirit,’ He thought, as if the Goddess can read his mind, ‘When I return to Varolia after this, I’ll ditch this body too. I’ll be who I really am: Kota Kintaro, her one and only summoned hero.’

His eyes glinted as he raised his hand, his breath steady. The attack began to form, imperceptible, invisible, and near-instantaneous—the same spell that had wiped out Unicus and his entire expedition.

‘Either way…’ he thought, releasing the spell with a flick of his wrist.

‘Die.’

“SKILL: [SKELETON HELL].”

“HARD SWING!!!” Van roared, his voice filled with defiance as his greatsword cleaved through the air with blinding speed. The swing struck with an audible force, almost as if it cut through something unseen.

[Hmph, how futile…] Kota mocked aloud, his tone dripping with disdain as he watched, expecting to see the group reduced to ashes.

The others shut their eyes tightly, bracing themselves for the inevitable. The weight of despair hung heavy in the air.

But nothing came.

No fire. No screams.

Just the fading echo of Van’s shout. His skill versus Kota’s.

Slowly, one by one, they opened their eyes, their faces twisting in confusion and disbelief.

‘…What?’ Kota thought, his brow furrowing as he glared at Van.

Van stood there, his chest heaving as he subtly huffed and puffed. His greatsword was still held firmly in place, its blade pointed downward, resting against the settling dust. The force of his swing had stirred the ground beneath them, leaving faint cracks where the air itself had been cleaved.

‘I saw it,’ Van thought, his eyes narrowing. ‘Something black… it appeared from his hand. It looked like some kind of forcefield. Dark energy… The same type that warned me not to go into the cave earlier.’

Van’s thoughts turned inward, instinctively recalling his newly acquired passive skill: [Seed of Darkness]. Its description had been vague, mentioning that it allowed him to interact with the energy of the arcane.

‘So this is considered arcane, then?’ Van thought, gripping his greatsword more tightly.

[Psche,] Unicus scoffed, his voice shattering the silence. His usual confidence was still there, but a faint edge of irritation crept into his tone.

Kota’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

A wave of frustration rippling through him. ‘That was supposed to take care of all of them. Damn it. Just fifteen more minutes until I can release the next wave.’

He sighed deeply, exhaling as his piercing gaze locked onto Van with growing intensity.

‘Alright. You pissed me off.’

[I will say this,] Kota announced, his voice cutting into Van’s thoughts like a sharp blade. His tone was unnervingly calm, almost casual. [In 15 minutes, I’ll be able to use my skeleton skill again—it has this pesky cooldown time. And during those 15 minutes, I won’t attack your… ‘friends.’]

Van’s eyes slowly shifted upward from his status window, fixing on Kota.

A low grunt escaped his lips as he took in the unsettling honesty reflected in those words. The look in Kota’s eyes wasn’t mocking, nor cruel—it was disturbingly sincere.

‘Why would he reveal his own weakness?’ Van thought, his instincts on edge.

[Do you know why I’m giving you the courtesy of telling you this, Hellix?] Kota continued, his voice sharp, as if he could read Van’s mind.

Van didn’t reply, his expression darkening.

[Forget the fact that you can’t do anything to me with your shit-tier skills,] Kota sneered, his gaze briefly flicking toward Van’s status window, using his [Investigation] Skill that allows him to open others’ status windows.

He scanned Van’s skills and stats, a smirk tugging at his lips.

‘[Hard Swing]… really? Varolia was right—it’s as redundant as it sounds,’ Kota mused, a quiet chuckle echoing in his thoughts. ‘And that description… it’s like the system itself is mocking him. Pathetic.’

He shifted his gaze, dismissing Van’s status window with disinterest. ‘The only things worth noting are [Seed of Darkness] and [Dark Soul], just as Varolia mentioned. But let’s be honest, neither is a real threat. He can’t do anything if I strike from a blind spot where he can’t block. All he’s managed to do is stall the inevitable.’

[It’s because I want to see you struggle. I want to see you suffer. I want you to realize just how futile and meaningless your fight really is. For making The Goddess so frustrated with you, and—honestly? For some reason, just seeing you pisses me off. It’s like every misfortune that falls on you makes me feel… alive. Hating you is euphoric. Freeing, even—]

“Will you shut up?” Van’s voice cut through the air, sharp and unyielding.

The sudden interruption caught Kota off guard, his smirk faltering for just a moment.

“None of this is something I haven’t heard before,” Van said, his tone steady. He lowered his greatsword slightly, locking eyes with Kota. “Yeah, you’re kinda strong. But you still act like a kid playing God.”

Kota’s eyes subtly narrowed, his arrogance bristling. [Are you trying to insult me by calling me childish?] he hissed. [I am about to vaporize you and your spirit completely.]

Van shook his head, his expression calm.

“I am also childish,” Van admitted, his tone softening slightly. “Magus—the guy who was transported to this world with me—was the same. Childish and cruel. I guess it’s an aspect we all share, we transmigrators,” he murmured.

Without another word, Van turned his back to Kota, his greatsword dragging slightly as he walked. He didn’t even bother to look at Kota long enough to register his reaction.

“Van…” Ami called hesitantly from the group.

“Who… who are you?” she asked, concern etched on her face.

“Ami, stay back,” he replied coldly, causing her to gasp. Yet, she complied silently, her lips trembling as Van addressed the rest of the party.

Sylva slowly emerged from Vaelthir’s embrace, her tearful eyes fixed on Van as he spoke. She clung to Vaelthir’s arm, not daring to let go entirely.

“If any of you get in the way, he will target you. And even if he doesn’t, we’ve never—not once—coordinated attacks or fought together,” Van said, his voice steady but firm. “If we all fight at once, our attacks will likely hit each other because of our inexperience as a group. And if it’s my attack, you’ll suffer serious damage.”

‘Why is he saying this… as if he’s so used to situations like these?’ Ami wondered, her concern growing with each word he spoke.

“Van,” she finally said, her voice trembling but resolute. “I trust you.”

“Once more, you make a point,” Vaelthir added, nodding with quiet approval.

‘A transmigrator… I see now,’ Vaelthir thought, his sharp gaze fixed on Van. ‘I’d heard rumors of another being summoned alongside Magus Veil. So it was him all along. If that’s the case, he’s the only one here capable of standing against whatever has taken over Unicus.’

His expression hardened with resolve as he turned to Sylva, who clung to him, her breaths uneven and tearful. Gently, he patted her arm.

“Please, Hellix,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

Sylva didn’t respond, too overcome with emotion. Vaelthir stroked her hair softly, holding her close as he spoke once more.

“Put him to rest,” he said solemnly, his tone carrying both the weight of his respect and the hope of their survival.

“Though if ya’ croak,” Arnolt spat, his rough voice breaking the moment, “we’ll beat ‘im for ya’. So don’t try too hard, noble brat.” He turned away, his movements abrupt, concealing his expression from the others.

“…And try not to croak,” Arnolt added quietly before stepping back to join Vaelthir and Sylva. He paused for a moment, glancing at Van. “I want to talk to ya’ about yer sword and armor… after all this.”

“Brat,” Savathon called out, his deep voice resonating through the air. His draconic eyes locked onto Van with an unwavering stare. “I have misjudged you time and time again,” he admitted, his tone softer now. He gave Van a subtle nod, his slit-like pupils momentarily and deliberately blinking at him.

“You’re a warrior in my eyes,” Savathon said quietly before turning away, his two human warriors falling into step behind him.

One by one, the others followed suit, disappearing out of sight—Vaelthir guiding Sylva gently, Arnolt walking with a sharp but silent gait, and Savathon leading the group. Finally, Ami trailed behind, glancing back at Van one last time before vanishing from view.

‘I had it all wrong,’ Sylva thought as tears welled in her eyes. ‘That man isn’t Van Hellix’s son. He… he is Van Hellix.’

Her fists tightened as she trembled, struggling to make sense of it all.

‘There has to be more to what happened with my mom. I…’ Her thoughts spiraled as her vision blurred with tears.

‘I’ll talk to him about it later. So,’

Her chest heaved as she took a deep, shuddering breath.

‘He has to survive.’

“I-I don’t know much about Van, but he is strong!” Ami called to Sylva, noticing her quiet sobs. “He will beat him!”

[…13 minutes left, Hellix,] Kota grimly reminded him. His voice was steady, cold. [And I hope you haven’t forgotten—the entrance is still sealed. Once those minutes are up, I will drag you back to them before I kill you.]

Van turned slowly to face him, his expression unreadable beneath his helmet. “There’s something I still don’t get,” he said, his voice low. “Just answer me this before we begin.”

Kota raised a brow, his tone dismissive. [… Alright. Since you’ll die anyway.]

Van paused, his eyes narrowing as he stared into Kota’s cold gaze—still wearing Unicus’s face.

‘I… What exactly was I going to ask him?’ Van wondered, his grip tightening on his greatsword.

How did you mimic pain so well? Why did you have it in your eyes earlier?

The questions lingered in his mind, but he dismissed them almost as quickly as they formed.

‘No. those are just excuses for what I really feel. I honestly don’t care how he did it, or who he is as a person. What I really want to know is…’

How did he fool me into believing that so well?

Van’s expression darkened. ‘I guess I’m no less susceptible to emotional manipulation than anyone else. Just like the girls. Just like everyone.’

A bitter realization swept over him, unrelenting, as the faces of Amoria, Lalyn, Marcy, Mika, and Rika flashed in his mind.

‘And what I’m feeling right now—this anger, this humiliation—is what they’ll feel if Magus ever truly dies and his mind-control passives fade.’

“Never mind,” Van said aloud, his voice colder, sharper. Slowly, he raised his greatsword, pointing it directly at Kota.

‘I’m furious about being played like a fiddle,’ he thought, the bitterness twisting deeper with every passing second; though his eyes couldn’t help but linger for a moment on the wedding ring still adorning Unicus’s finger.

“I’ve wasted enough time,” Van said, his tone hard as steel as he steadied his stance, shifting his gaze to Kota’s eyes. “Let’s do this.”

Before Kota could respond, Van disappeared, reappearing in front of him in an instant, his greatsword raised for a devastating vertical slash.

[Hmph,] Kota grunted mid-air, unfazed by the sudden attack.

“[HARD SWING]!” Van roared as his blade descended.

In response, Kota lazily cast [Fire Shield Armament], encasing his sword in fiery mana to block the incoming strike.

CLANG!

The clash echoed through the cavern as Van’s greatsword slammed into the flaming shield. Sparks erupted, and the sheer force cracked the energy barrier, but it didn’t break.

Hovering mid-air, Kota looked at Van with a bored expression, his sword still pressed against the flaming shield.

[Boring. Are you really going to rely on that pathetic skill over and over?] Kota sneered, glancing briefly at the cracked shield. [Sure, it increases your strength and speed significantly—but only during the swing. And now, I’ve blocked it. [Fire Shield Armament] is one of my weaker shields, by the way. I can cast them endlessly, as long as I have mana.]

He smirked, his voice turning condescending. [Speaking of which, I also have a passive that refills my mana by 70% every five seconds. You can’t beat me—]

Kota’s monologue was cut short by another ferocious shout.

“[HARD SWING]!” Van roared once more, his greatsword pressing down with sudden, overwhelming force.

‘Wait, what…?!’ Kota’s eyes widened in shock as the intensity of Van’s strike tripled without warning.

The shield shattered.

The force of the blow sent Kota flying backward, crashing into the cavern wall with an earth-shattering impact. A dust cloud erupted, filling the air as the wall cracked from the collision.

Kota coughed, his body slamming against the unyielding rock. Flames flickered around him as he hovered, propelled by the fire beneath his feet.

From below, Van landed with quiet precision, his movements calm and deliberate. Dust swirled around him as he began to walk toward Kota, his greatsword gripped tightly in hand, its blade scraping against the ground with a low, ominous drag.

Kota emerged from the dust cloud, his face twisting in frustration as he glared down at Van.

‘That bastard… He can chain that skill from any position?!’ Kota thought, his flames flaring with newfound rage.

Van’s steady, deliberate steps exuded a quiet confidence, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on his opponent from the shadowed depths of his helmet.

[I see…] The Guardian relayed, her voice resonating like an echo in their minds. Everyone stared at her as if she were a creature from a fairytale.

‘That’s a strong spirit. I can sense it…’ Vaelthir thought, his gaze steady. ‘To think he can summon her like this…’

‘She’s so pretty…’ Sylva thought, her eyes trailing over the Guardian’s figure as Van gave her instructions.

“Can you do it?”

‘To think he could also summon spirits…’ Unicus mused, almost in awe.

[Essentially prevent the air from reaching the skeleton, huh?] the Guardian asked.

“Yeah. I know you’ve got experience creating vacuums firsthand,” Van said, his tone steady but a flicker of memory crossed his mind. Last night’s encounter with her power was fresh.

[… Very well,] she relayed, her focus shifting to the skeleton. With a flick of her arm, the flames surrounding the skeletal mage vanished, snuffed out as if they had never existed. The skeleton collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

“I-It worked..!” Sylva exclaimed, breaking the silence.

But no one else spoke. They all stared at the motionless skeleton, their tension palpable.

“H-huh..? Why are you guys so tense? We did it!”

“Not yet,” Van muttered, his tone dark.

“Indeed,” Arnolt said, his voice low. “Who’s to say that bastard won’t rise the moment the Guardian releases her vacuum?”

All eyes turned back to the skeleton. Sylva swallowed hard, her expression tightening.

“Alright… Release it,” Van instructed.

The Guardian’s hold vanished, and the air returned to normal. The skeleton remained inert, unmoving on the ground.

Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

‘A thousand more of these,’ Van thought, his gaze shifting to the Guardian.

“Go back for now, I’ll call you if we need some help,” He instructed calmly, and she dissipated back to her world with a nod.

‘If this works, she’ll have to overexert herself… and that means me, since she uses my mana. We’ll have to pick our fights carefully. Just skeletons—just skeletons all the way down until we reach that bastard. How tedious. Why couldn’t his seal work like Magus’s, where only the direct encounters scale to his stats?’

Van frowned, his thoughts spiraling.

‘Then again… Who’s to say the one we’re chasing isn’t nearby? In the end, we’re relying on what Unicus said. He’s the only one who made it out of here alive.’

His eyes flicked to his status window, scanning the sealed stats that mocked him. Then his gaze landed on Unicus.

‘… It can’t be. I could see it in his eyes. The loss and pain… He isn’t the villain we’re chasing…. And I know the look of hurt, from Magus. Amoria confirmed it for me with her story.’

“It worked… Now we wait. Make sure no reinforcements arrive,” Unicus commanded.

Minutes passed. The silence was heavy but unbroken. When it seemed clear, they cautiously emerged from their hiding place.

Unicus approached the skeleton, kneeling to pick up the wand it had clutched in its bony hand.

‘But just to be sure…’

Van moved forward with the rest of the group, his expression thoughtful. “To think it took something as simple as following the Fire Triangle to bring down that mage’s skeleton.”

“Hmh,” Unicus let out a somber chuckle, “If only we were that simple first time we came here,” He said as he looked into the skeleton’s empty eye-sockets.

“Fire Triangle…?” Ami asked.

“Ah,” Van turned around.

Then pausing at Ami.

“….”

“Remind me, Unicus,” Van muttered immediately, “the Triangle consists of Oxygen, Heat and…”

“—Fuel. Take one, and it can’t exist anymore. The magic in it most likely thrived on and burned through that. I guess once we neutralized the air, the magic dissipated out of the skeleton,” Unicus explained.

“Yeah,” Van sighed thoughtfully, exasperation in his tone. “100%.”

‘Fuck… FUCK. FUCK!’ Van swore repeatedly in his mind, a storm brewing behind his calm exterior.

“R-right…” Ami murmured, scratching her head as she tried to wrap her mind around the explanation.

An air of unease circled Van. His thoughts churned.

“All right, everyone. Good job, Van,” Unicus said thoughtfully as he stood, offering a forced smile while his gaze shifted away from the fallen skeleton.

“Let’s go. The city shouldn’t be too far from here. I know a shortcut,” Unicus announced, gesturing for the group to follow him.

“A shortcut, just after being here once?” Van asked, his tone subtly tense.

Ami noticed the shift immediately. “Van…?” she questioned softly.

“… What can I say? I guess I was lucky to notice it,” Unicus replied casually, heading toward a dark path veering off the main trail.

Van’s silence was heavy as Unicus continued walking. A hidden smirk crept across Unicus’s face as he approached the shortcut—a shadowy cavern shrouded in mystery.

“Come on, guys! We’re almost—”

“HELLIX! WHAT’S THE MEANING OF THIS!?” Savathon’s voice boomed, cutting Unicus off and snapping his attention backward.

Unicus turned, his smirk faltering. Van stood at the vanguard, his greatsword drawn, barring anyone from advancing. The rest of the party stood behind Van, keeping their distance, their eyes darting nervously between him and Unicus.

“Van…?” Unicus asked softly, his voice laced with unease. “What’s wrong?”

“I honestly would’ve bought it,” Van said, his tone low and steady, earning a twitch from Unicus.

Van’s gaze sharpened. “The way you faked not knowing a damn thing about the skeleton made me let a few things slide.”

Unicus’s face stiffened as Van stepped closer.

“Like how we were sealed in the cavern, yet you escaped as the only survivor from your expedition. Somehow, you avoided being trapped like the rest of us,” Van muttered, his words slicing through the silence.

“And how I only got struck with a seal after you went in after me,” he continued, eliciting a collective gasp from the group.

“BRAT! You can’t possibly think that—” Arnolt started, but Van’s glare cut him off mid-sentence.

Van’s voice dropped to a menacing growl. “But what gave you away…”

Unicus instinctively leaned back, a bead of sweat tracing down his temple.

“…Was the Fire Triangle concept. And the way you casually threw around the term fuel in a fantasy world,” Van snarled, his greatsword glinting ominously as he pointed it at Unicus.

“You motherfucker,” he growled, his voice laced with venom. “THE FIRE TRIANGLE CONCEPT ONLY EXISTS IN MY WORLD. NOT THIS ONE.”

‘I wasn’t able to notice it back in the city. Brushed it off because I was new to the concept… But he also has the brightest aura around him. Yet, if I squint…’

‘…I can see it. Something dark. Foreign. Just at the edges of his skin.’

“Y-your world..!?” Unicus stuttered, his face pale. “W-what are you talking about, Van? Are you alright…?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Van muttered, his voice low and cold, slicing through the air like a blade.

The group froze, rattled by the confrontation. Unicus’s familiar face and presence anchored them in disbelief, making Van’s accusations feel impossible. Adding to their unease was the unsettling aura around Van—unusual, almost predatory, and hard to ignore.

This was Unicus. There was no doubt about it.

Yet, an unease crept through their minds, especially Vaelthir’s. Van’s earlier logic when subduing the skeleton had been undeniable. The clarity, the precision—it wasn’t the reasoning of a madman.

And yet…

Something about what Van said now gnawed at the edges of reason, forcing them to consider the unthinkable:

That Unicus might already be gone.

It made sense.

… If only Van wasn’t the one who said it.

‘…But,’ Vaelthir thought, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied Van, ‘HIS world…?’

“Y-YOU’RE TALKING OUT OF YOUR ASS!” a human warrior shouted from the back, his voice trembling with panic. “I THINK HE’S LOST HIS MIND!”

The words snapped Vaelthir out of his spiraling thoughts. The accusation echoed among the group, their tension palpable as they started to inch away from Van, their hands twitching toward their weapons.

Yes. The warrior was right. Van wasn’t making sense. Was he?

Van’s gaze flicked to the back of the group, his jaw tightening as he noted the rising hostility.

‘Damn it…!! FUCK! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS..!’ he thought, his frustration mounting as the weight of their stares bore down on him.

Unicus’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as he seized the moment.

“E-everyone!” Unicus shouted, his tone frantic, yet calculated. “I think he has it! Everyone who turned into skeletons got radicalized like this! We need to subdue him before—”

His words were abruptly cut short as Van vanished in a blur of motion.

“[Hard Swing]!” Van roared, his blade slicing through the air with terrifying speed in a vertical strike.

“NO!!!” Sylva screamed, her voice echoing through the cavern.

Van appeared before Unicus, his greatsword poised to cleave him in two. But just before the blade struck, Unicus clicked his tongue.

“Tsk.” He sighed, raising his sword in an almost lazy motion. The weapons collided with a deafening clang, stopping Van’s strike dead in its tracks.

“…!!!” Gasps rippled through the group as they watched, frozen in disbelief. Van’s greatsword rested atop Unicus’s blade, neither yielding an inch.

“U-Unicus…! W-…” Ami stammered, her voice trembling.

“Haaaah…” Unicus exhaled deeply, closing his eyes before reopening them with a steely gaze that pierced Van.

[I took you for a fool, Hellix. Sure enough, that’s what the Goddess said about you.] Unicus’s voice suddenly echoed in Van’s and everyone’s minds, chilling them to their core.

‘The GODDESS…!? So, she had a hand in this..!!?’

Van growled, every muscle in his body tensing as he pressed his sword harder against Unicus’s. His teeth ground together as he strained to overpower him.

[…Well, doesn’t matter,] Unicus relayed calmly, his gaze shifting to Van’s greatsword. [“We may have the same strength stat. But the reason I’m going to overpower you… and make you submit…”]

Van’s eyes narrowed as Unicus began pushing him back effortlessly.

[…Is due to MY 500 Intelligence and Mana. And the OP (Overpowered) spells I mastered over thousands of years.] Venom laced every word as Unicus let out a laugh, the air around him suddenly crackling with pressure.

Before Van could react, a powerful shockwave erupted from Unicus. Van was hurled backward at blinding speed, slamming into the cavern wall with such force that the entire chamber rattled.

“VAN!!!” Ami screamed, her eyes darting to the dust cloud where his body disappeared. Her voice cracked with panic.

[I,] Unicus’s voice echoed again, pulling everyone’s attention back to him. [Wanted to give you all a sense of adventure before I sent you to your graves. It was to respect the original owner of this body’s dying wishes.]

His tone grew darker, colder, as the last vestiges of Unicus vanished entirely.

[But now? I don’t feel like it anymore. You can thank that trash player in the dust cloud for ruining my mood. But before I kill all of you,]

Unicus’s voice had become completely foreign, no longer resembling the man they knew. He grinned menacingly as his eyes fell on Sylva.

[… Maybe I’ll have some fun with some of you, if you choose not to fight me.] He raised a hand, pointing directly at her and Ami.

“Dying… wishes…?” Sylva whispered, her voice shaking with disbelief.

“THIS FUCKING BASTARD!” Savathon roared, flames flickering in his palms as his glare burned into Unicus.

Vaelthir immediately moved, instinctively shielding Sylva with his body.

[As for the rest of you,] He relayed coldly, [Turn into skelet—] Unicus began, his hand hovering as if to curse them all.

But a sharp cry cut through the air.

“[Hard Swing]!” Van shouted.

The group looked around, but Van was nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a khukri knife spun through the air, grazing Unicus’s cheek and drawing a thin line of blood.

“Ah…!” Savathon gasped, noticing one of his knives was missing. Van had wasted no time sneaking from the dust cloud, snatching the blade, and hurling it at Unicus—using Hard Swing to amplify its force.

“You stupid fucker,” Van growled, stepping forward as Unicus touched his cheek, his fingers coming away with blood. Unicus’s face twisted in irritation.

“…”

“You may have had thousands of years to learn a bunch of cool skills,” Van said, his voice steady, his steps unrelenting. “But I spent my entire life mastering just one.”

He hoisted his greatsword over his shoulder, his eyes blazing with determination.

“Bring it on.”

“Van!” Ami cried out, her voice trembling with hope as she saw him standing tall once more.

——————————–

[2024-11] ANNOUNCEMENT! The Paperback Edition of the First Season is now available on Amazon! 📖✨
It features Chapters 1 to 62 (Van Hellix to Velvet & Plush).

The eBook Edition is also available separately!

Amazon.com: Betrayed, I Met The Demon Lord: BOOK 1 eBook : _0832, Hazy: Kindle Store

I’d really appreciate it if you gave it a read and left a review—it would really help boost its visibility in the store (or so I’ve heard)!

“Hey,” Ami called as she approached Van, who was walking deeper into the cave alongside Unicus and Arnolt.

“What’s ‘Hard Swing’?” she asked, drawing everyone’s attention.

“…It’s just the skill’s name,” Van replied casually.

“Then why did you shout it?” Ami raised an eyebrow.

“Because it has more strength that way,” Van said flatly.

“Really?” she pressed, her expression skeptical.

“No, not really. I just like shouting it. It’s the same effect either way,” Van admitted with a smirk.

“Hmmm!” Ami pouted at his teasing.

Van chuckled internally as his thoughts drifted. ‘…Right. Shouting a skill name is just how Magus and I used active skills. It’s not necessary; focusing intently works just as well. But for the residents of this world, their methods are different—they rely on calculations and precise manipulation of mana in their bodies to invoke a skill. Summoners, though, have it easy. They just communicate with spirits and give commands…Hmm…I wonder…’

Van’s gaze narrowed as he opened his status window, scanning it thoughtfully.

‘All my stats are sealed to 500. If worst comes to worst, I’ll have to fight this enemy like this. But my Intelligence is at 50 now, and my Mana is at 200, thanks to the [Seed of Darkness] passive. Still, I haven’t gained a single new active skill besides [Hard Swing] and [Summon] for the Guardian of Wind. So…’

…Could I learn a new skill if I mastered mana manipulation the way they do?

“Brat,” Arnolt’s voice interrupted Van’s musings. “Who gave you that armor and sword? Really?” His single eye scrutinized Van with a sharp stare.

Van blinked, shaking his head to refocus. “Ah, a dwarf I came across gave them to me as a gift.”

“Did he now…?” Arnolt’s tone was laden with curiosity.

“Yeah,” Van nodded. “He said they were just gathering dust, and I needed curse-negating gear. It worked out.”

“Hmph. Just gathering dust, huh? And where exactly did you meet this dwarf?” Arnolt asked, scratching his beard.

Van hesitated. ‘…At a prison. I broke him out after getting thrown in myself for proposing to the Dwarven Matriarch. She was short but gorgeous. If she’d had green skin, she’d have looked like one of those goblin wives from comics. When I told him that after we broke out, he laughed for hours, then gave me the armor and sword as thanks for the entertainment. Called me a desperate idiot and left shortly after.’

‘…Yeah, maybe I should keep that part to myself,’ Van thought, shaking his head. ‘I’ll just be blunt with him and say I don’t feel like sharing. Dwarves appreciate if you’re straight with them.’

“I’m not comfortable sharing,” Van finally said.

“…??????” Arnolt tilted his head, his brow furrowed, before narrowing his gaze in suspicion. “Did ya’ fuck him for that armor and sword? Wouldn’t be far-fetched,” he asked bluntly, drawing everyone’s attention.

“ARNOLT!! That’s enough! He said he wasn’t comfortable with it!” Unicus nearly erupted, glaring at the dwarf.

Van sighed, feeling their suspicious gazes burn into him. ‘Right. However blunt you think dwarves are, they’re ten times that.’ He rubbed the places where his temples would be beneath his helmet. ‘Maybe I should reveal a little to clear the misunderstanding…’

“I’m not comfortable,” Van repeated, “but it’s because it was a… uhm, a difficult time for me. We met at a prison,” he emphasized.

“Ah, that explains it…” Arnolt clicked his tongue thrice, lowering his gaze in pity. “A dwarf’s libido isn’t to be underestimated when someone catches their fancy. No need to be ashamed, brat. We’ve all done shameless things for gold and armor. And in whatever prison you may have been, the sorest of the bunch are always located there.” He shook his head solemnly, entirely misunderstanding.

“ARNOLT, STOP IT!” Unicus yelled, exasperated.

“Wait, that’s not what I mea—” Van tried to explain, but Ami’s sympathetic voice cut him off.

“Oh, Van…” Ami leaned into him, patting his armor gently. “You poor thing!”

“No, Ami, wait—it isn’t like that, I—”

“Hmph. Might explain your shitty attitude, then,” Savathon muttered, crossing her arms and looking away in discomfort. “I suppose I’ll let you off the hook for your behavior earlier.”

“You are misunderstandi—”

“I must apologize, then,” Vaelthir interjected, his tone solemn. “I was insensitive with my insults and assumptions. Even if you are merely human, you deserve an apology.” He nodded stiffly, avoiding Van’s gaze.

Van froze as Sylva’s pitying gaze softened, her eyes brimming with sympathy. ‘…Poor thing. To think he endured such horrors just for armor and a weapon… Pair that with being that womanizer’s son… I suppose that’s why he chases women. A desperate attempt to reclaim himself and forget the terrible acts forced upon him…’

“FOR THE LOVE OF—You’re all SERIOUSLY misunderstanding somethin—” Van erupted, only to feel Unicus’s firm hand settle on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Van,” Unicus said gently, a soft smile on his face. Van turned to him, half-hopeful he’d finally clear things up.

“You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. You’re safe here… Relatively speaking, haha.”

Van stared at him blankly beneath his helmet. ‘…Motherfucker.’

“Wait, so then, how old are you?” Sylva finally asked, recalling how young he had looked yesterday.

“I—”

“Shh!” Unicus hissed, signaling them to stop.

The group froze, hiding behind a large boulder in the suffocating darkness. Moments later, a figure emerged from the shadows.

A burning skeleton.

Unicus grimaced, his jaw tightening, his palm clenching into a fist.

“Unicus…?” Sylva murmured, noting his grim expression.

“Van,” Unicus said after a deep breath, ignoring Sylva. “I want you to look.” He gestured for Van to come closer, urging him to peek over the rock.

“That is the enemy,” he said gravely.

Van narrowed his eyes, studying the figure.
‘A flaming skeleton… Carrying… a wand?’ His brow furrowed.

“That used to be a mage. A spellcaster,” Unicus muttered.

“…You knew them?” Van asked, his tone careful.

“Her. Yes. I did…” Unicus admitted, his voice trailing off. The group exchanged pitying glances, but he quickly shook himself, his resolve hardening.

“When we were in this dungeon, we slayed hundreds, but they all reassembled themselves. Each piece was surrounded by flames, gradually rising and reconstructing the skeleton,” he said briskly. “Afterwards, I ran it through my head thousands of times—how to beat them.”

“So, how do we kill them for good?” Sylva pressed.

“My theory is we try to suffocate the flame. That mage once fired a water spell at… someone.” He hesitated, his voice faltering before continuing. “It weakened the flame a little, but it didn’t work. My guess is that water spells dissipate too quickly to snuff the fire entirely. So, our focus should be on taking away the air.”

“I see.” Savathon nodded, “In which case, I shall use my leather cloth to suffocate it!”

Savathon muttered to Unicus, earning a nod of approval.

“WARRI—” Savathon started to step out from their hiding spot, but Vaelthir sprang into action, clamping a hand over the dragonkin’s mouth and squeezing his beak-like snout shut.

“Myoum Bastardm mwhatmwaremyou—” Savathon struggled against Vaelthir’s grip, but the elf held firm.

“Shh.” Vaelthir whispered, dragging Savathon back into cover just as the skeleton scanned the area, oblivious to their movement.

“Vaelthir…?” Sylva tilted her head, puzzled by his sudden action.

“Think about it,” Vaelthir said, glancing at each of them before peeking cautiously at the skeleton.

“A mage controlling skeletons? What makes you think that taking one down won’t alert the mage to our location?”

Van followed Vaelthir’s logic quickly. The dragonkin’s eyes widened in realization.

“We’d be overrun,” Sylva whispered.

‘…That elf has good intuition,’ Van thought, his gaze shifting to a concerned Ami.
‘I can’t afford to be overrun. Not with her here.’

“… Right. I hadn’t considered that,” Unicus admitted, frowning deeply.

“It’s fine,” Vaelthir said calmly, releasing Savathon’s snout.

“We have to stealth our way through. Find the source… It will be near impossible,” Vaelthir said, addressing the group. “I suggest the thief and I handle it alone while the rest of you hold the fort here. We’ll locate the mage, return to inform you of their position, and then we strike together.”

He glanced around at the group, his tone calm yet confident. “As an archer with delicate, silent steps, I’m the most suited for this task. And the thief with us is likely specialized for stealth, correct?”

After a moment’s hesitation, the group nodded reluctantly.

“…What if you run into trouble?” Unicus asked, breaking the silence.

“Then we will—…” Vaelthir began, but his voice faded into the background as Van turned his attention elsewhere.

The group continued discussing the plan, nearly ready to send Vaelthir and Ami off. But Van, recalling Vaelthir’s earlier comment about the cave’s fragile ceiling, fixated on the cavern around them.

‘Caverns are delicate, aren’t they…? Falling debris in caverns can also happen naturally, right?’ he thought. Dropping prone, he pressed his helmeted head to the ground, tuning out the chatter around him.

His superior perception allowed him to focus on the vibrations within the cave. Two specific sounds stood out, faint but distinct.

One is the sound of multiple, light footsteps marching around the cavern, likely of the skeletons…

… And a crushing noise; of something falling and hitting the ground with a loud thud.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes, stood swiftly, and turned to face the group.

“…Then, miss, are you ready—” Vaelthir began.

“Wait,” Van interjected.

“…What is it? We must not waste time,” Vaelthir replied, his expression tight with urgency.

“I know.” Van nodded before turning to Unicus. “Unicus, how many skeletons are in this cavern? A rough estimate.”

“…Hm… Over a thousand. Maybe more,” Unicus replied cautiously, the group exchanging worried glances.

Van’s gaze shifted to Vaelthir. “Then there are likely even more in the deeper parts of the cave.”

“Yes…?” Vaelthir questioned, tilting his head. “So…?”

“In a cavern this vast, debris naturally falls from the ceiling over time,” Van explained, pointing upward. “Rocks, sometimes large ones. It’s not uncommon for caves like this to have areas where debris accumulates. Who’s to say some of those rocks haven’t crushed skeletons, suffocating their flames in the process? If that’s true, their forces would have gaps. Poor management, especially if someone invades. And with over a thousand skeletons here, it’s likely several have already been neutralized this way.”

Vaelthir narrowed his eyes, studying Van’s reasoning. “You make a valid point,” he admitted, though his tone carried a hint of skepticism. “But that’s an assumption. How do you know those skeletons aren’t retrieved and rebuilt just as quickly?”

Van gestured to the ground. “I don’t. But I felt something—a heavy thud when I listened earlier. It could have been a falling rock crushing one of them. And if that’s true, the mage controlling them can’t manage them all at once. There are too many.”

‘He heard something falling…? Something even I didn’t hear…?’ Ami and Vaelthir both shared the same thought.

‘Impossible…! He’s talking out of his ass…!’ Vaelthir thought, about to object, but then recalled Van’s earlier prowess and reluctantly held his tongue.

Arnolt scratched his beard, frowning. “Hmm. So yer sayin’ it’s a gamble?”

“Everything in a dungeon is a gamble,” Van countered. “But this one makes sense. If we test the theory, we can confirm if it works without alerting the whole cavern.”

Vaelthir hesitated, pressing his lips into a thin line. Finally, he asked, “That’s fine and everything, but what do you even suggest we do to test your theory, Hellix?” His tone remained sharp, skepticism and suspicion laced in every word. “If you’re suggesting we mimic a collapse, then—”

“—I know,” Van interrupted smoothly. “That skeleton would likely notice any attack aimed at the cavern ceiling—an arrow, a spell—and alert the nearby skeletons before it’s crushed.”

Vaelthir’s eyes narrowed slightly at the interruption, but he said nothing. Savathon, arms folded, listened intently.

“Then…”

“Rather, we mimic the effect a falling boulder would have on the skeleton—just take away the air,” Van suggested, his voice calm but deliberate.

“…But how?” Unicus asked, his tone tinged with both hope and uncertainty.

Van paused, deep in thought.
‘It really is a bet,’ he admitted to himself, his gaze lingering on Ami.
‘We know nothing about the mage. Unicus was here, and he knows practically squat, except a theory. Considering even I was sealed, this mage must be incredibly powerful… But it’s the best bet I have.’

He then murmured softly, “[Summon], come forth, Guardian of Wind.”

“Van…!?” Ami shouted, her voice trembling with concern as she noticed his frantic gaze fixed on the invisible status window only he could see.

‘Is something seriously wrong with him?’ Sylva thought, narrowing her eyes at his sudden intensity.

“Worry yourself not, My Lady,” Vaelthir interjected, his frown deepening as he observed Van’s behavior. “The way he’s drawn attention to himself before, this must be another one of those moments.”

“‘Sss-ta-tus Wee-n-doh?’ What’s that supposed to mean?” one of the warriors asked, scratching his head in confusion.

“VAN!” Unicus barked, silencing the murmurs. His voice carried an edge of authority. “What’s going on!?”

“Grrg…!” Van growled through gritted teeth, his frustration boiling over. Without a word, he stomped toward the cavern exit, gripping Ami’s arm and pulling her along.

“V-Van—ahh!” she gasped in pain, stumbling as his forceful tug nearly made her fall.

‘No time to overthink it. We just need to get the hell out of here. A dungeon and a godly seal? Like Magus had? But this one works on me?! This isn’t Magus—this is something else entirely! That fire… it was trying to warn me. I messed up!’ Van’s thoughts raced as he pushed forward, the sunlight from the cavern’s mouth beckoning him. ‘I won’t be able to protect her if I’m weakened…!’

“HEY, YOU BASTARD! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING TO HER!?” one of the warriors shouted, anger flashing across their faces as they moved toward Van, clearly disturbed by his rough handling of Ami.

“Van, what’s going on?!” Ami asked, her voice strained as she leaned into his grip, trying to match his pace.

“We need to run, Ami,” Van said, his voice low and urgent. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

“T-THEN STOP YANKING ME! IT HURTS!” Ami shouted, violently pulling herself free from his grip. Her voice trembled with both pain and anger. “What, you thought I wouldn’t listen to you or something!?” she growled, confusion and frustration flaring as she glared at Van.

Van froze, her words hitting him just as they reached the exit. A ‘yes’ lingered unspoken in his throat, but he shook it off.

“Then come. Now. We’ll… we’ll fight about it later,” he said, his tone clipped with urgency.

“… Fine!” she snapped, her frustration evident as she stormed toward him. Without wasting another second, he resumed his hurried march.

‘We’re out…!’ Van thought as the sunlight ahead promised freedom.

And then, a silent—thud.

He collided with an invisible wall.

‘What…!?’

[YOU ARE UNABLE TO LEAVE THE DUNGEON. THE DUNGEON’S OWNER FORBIDS YOU FROM LEAVING.]

‘Shit… shit…! Then at least Ami—!’

Spinning around, Van shouted, “AMI! Try to leave this place now—”

But in his frantic state, he failed to notice Vaelthir step forward, placing a firm hand on Ami’s shoulder to stop her from advancing.

“This stops here,” Vaelthir said coolly, his towering frame and calm demeanor in stark contrast to Van’s frenzy. He stood resolute, blocking Ami with an unyielding presence.

“All of us have been very lenient and patient with your erratic behavior,” Vaelthir continued, his voice edged with authority. “But this… this ends now. Leave by yourself.”

Van’s eyes locked onto Vaelthir, whose gaze radiated contempt. From his height, the elf seemed to look down at him like he was trash—disposable, insignificant. The subtle grimace in Vaelthir’s eyes made Van’s blood boil.

‘This fucking elf…!’ Van clenched his fists, his rage simmering as he focused on Vaelthir’s hand, still resting on Ami’s shoulder. ‘Touching her however he fucking wants…!’

“This is an emergency. I cannot leave. There’s a seal on—”

“Shut it. No more excuses,” the elf interrupted, his voice sharp and dismissive. “No more needless drama. Miss, you need not listen to this brute,” he murmured softly, his gaze shifting to Ami with gentleness.

“…” Ami looked down, her hand instinctively rubbing the spot on her arm where Van had yanked her. The ache lingered, fueling her uncertainty.

‘I don’t get it. I don’t understand,’ Van thought, his rage bubbling as he scanned the group. ‘She saw me running like a madman, screaming, desperate to leave. She knows how urgent this is. And instead of questioning why I can’t leave, they all turn into fucking white knights? Is this some cruel side effect of Untrusted—to create unnecessary drama wherever I go!? Are you all serious!?’

He took in their grimacing faces, all directed at him, as his fury churned beneath the surface.

“…” Van drew a deep breath, forcing his tone to soften.

“Ami,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet, almost pleading. “Please… please listen to me. Just try to leave.”

Yet in his heart, a different plea echoed, raw and violent.

‘This fucking passive… Alright. Give me an excuse. Give me an excuse to beat the shit out of that fucking elf. His smug act… Ami, you’re focusing on your pain instead of me? Fine. Do it. Please, keep doing that. Just give me an excuse to break his teeth in.’

“Haven’t you heard what I sai—” Vaelthir began, his condescension thick in the air.

“Let go of me,” Ami cut him off, stepping away from his grasp.

“…” The elf fell silent, his brow twitching as she walked past him toward Van. Van, standing on the edge of eruption, remained silent as she neared the exit.

Van looked at her, holding his reaction deep within as his body tensed. A thought intruded, sharp and unwelcome.

The seal most likely only applied to him. Only he could see the message. Only he could feel the weight of the seal. Only he had seen the flames outside the cavern.

It had to be because he entered. Proof of that was Unicus—he had been here before and had managed to leave without issue.

So, what would most likely happen now was clear: she would be able to leave without any trouble.

And with that, all trust in her eyes would leave as well.

‘…If it’s just me who can’t leave, and she thinks I’m crazy, then fine,’ Van thought, his resolve hardening, pushing the concern aside. ‘Even sealed like this, I’ll knock her out and throw her outside if I have to. Even with everyone watching and trying to intervene.’

He braced himself, already preparing for the pitying look she would give him when she walked out of the cavern, leaving him behind.

But then—thud.

Ami collided with an invisible wall.

“Wah—!?” Ami gasped as she stumbled backward, closing her eyes in panic.

For a brief moment, instead of anxiety…

Van felt relief.

Relief at her confused expression, her disoriented gaze as she stared at the invisible wall.
Relief as he turned to see the arrogant elf’s composure crack, confusion and unease now evident in his eyes.

Relief as the rest of the group hurried toward the wall, their hands frantically feeling along its surface. With every touch, Van saw the same glowing message appear before him:

[YOU ARE UNABLE TO LEAVE.]

The message, invisible to everyone else, pulsed with each attempt to interact with the barrier.

Relief grew as the group erupted into chaos, shouting at one another and casting magic and attacks at the wall. Spells flared and swords struck, the air thick with desperation.

Ami walked silently toward Van, who stood watching the chaos. The faint glow of spells reflected on their faces as the group continued their futile assault in the background.

“…”

“…”

“… Are you still hurt?” Van asked after a long pause, his voice quieter now.

“… A little,” she replied, rubbing her arm.

And just like that, the small relief he’d felt was replaced with guilt, her words hitting him harder than any attack could.

“I’m… sorry,” Van muttered, turning back to the entrance. The others, still panting and huffing from their failed attempts, gave him a sideways glance, their words failing them; recalling his warning to leave, and the way he moved into the cavern.

“Can you all move back a little?” he asked suddenly, his voice raspy.

They stood frozen, speechless. Finally, Unicus straightened, looking at Van squarely and stepped back, followed reluctantly by Arnolt, Sylva, Savathon, Vaelthir, and the two warriors.

Van exhaled deeply, the faint echo of his breath reverberating through the cavern’s oppressive silence. The air hung heavy and damp, clinging to his black-metal armor as he slowly drew his enormous greatsword from his back and sheathed it with deliberate precision.

‘…Dwarven Steel…!’ Arnolt’s thoughts raced as the blade caught the faint shimmer of light. The unmistakable luster of the rare metal was a sight that stirred his deep, ancestral pride—and alarm.

‘But that… that weighs 100 kilograms per troy unit! That means…’ His eyes widened in shock as he did the calculations, ‘He’s carrying at least 700 kilograms at all times…!’

And then another realization hit him, sending a chill through his veins.

‘But there’s only one smith I know who works with such precious steel… And he made his final masterpiece over 18 years ago! There’s no way… Could this be the person he entrusted it to…?’

The group fell silent, their breaths held as Van gripped the hilt.

“[Hard Swing]!” he roared, and the sword moved with a speed and force that defied logic. The blade came crashing down on the invisible wall… and did nothing.

Nothing—except for the whirlwind of air it generated. The pressure alone sent small rubble scattering across the ground, an almost imperceptible quake rippling through the cavern.

The group stared in stunned silence.

That wasn’t an A-ranked attack.

That swing was undoubtedly S-rank—no, it had to be Legendary.

Van steadied himself, gritting his teeth as he swung again. And again. Each strike was stronger, fiercer—the kind of strength none of them had witnessed since the Demonic War.

And yet, the wall remained unyielding.

It was then they realized.

It wasn’t the armor.

Van wasn’t who he claimed to be.

His strength was his own.

The group stood frozen in awe and disbelief as Van continued his futile assault, the strongest attack they had ever seen proving powerless against the barrier.

Van looked up at the ceiling, his mind racing. ‘I could try carving through it…’ he thought, adjusting his grip as he prepared a horizontal swing toward the towering, 30-meter-high cavern ceiling.

“Don’t,” Vaelthir’s voice cut through, calm yet firm, as he stepped behind him.

“..?” Van paused, turning to look at him silently.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Vaelthir said, his tone edged with quiet authority. “Seals don’t work like that. If someone managed to seal this dungeon, they’d have accounted for the ceiling—and the floor beneath us—as well. Haven’t you noticed that you haven’t even dented the ground, despite swinging vertically?”

Van’s gaze shifted downward, examining the unmarked stone beneath his feet.

‘Good point,’ he thought, his grip loosening slightly.

“And not only that,” Vaelthir continued, his deep blue eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the cavern’s expanse. “You’d risk a cave-in. That ceiling could very well be a bait—designed to tempt intruders into causing their own destruction.”

Van exhaled deeply, standing upright as he slowly sheathed his enormous greatsword with a deliberate motion.

“Then our only choice…” Van began, his voice steady.

“…is to defeat whoever placed that seal—the one neither of us can break,” Vaelthir finished, their gazes locking grimly.

“This confirms it,” Unicus said, drawing the attention of everyone present. His fists clenched tightly, a grimace darkening his expression. “There’s a person behind this. A runemaster… or a mage. Not a creature.”

“He will face JUSTICE,”

Unicus growled with unshakable certainty, his eyes gleaming with intensity. The group stood in tense silence, their shadows stretching long and distorted from the sunlight at their backs, swallowed by the cold, unyielding darkness of the dungeon ahead.

“Hey, Ami,” Van muttered, lying back on the grass, his gaze fixed on the stars above.

“Yeah?” she replied, leaning slightly from her spot on the opposite side of the campfire.

“How old are you?” he asked, his tone casual but curious.

“Hmm… I’ll be 19 soon!” she said with a soft smile. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. You’re all grown up now, huh?” he murmured.

Her smile faded as she flipped over, her voice quieter. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not a kid anymore, so stop treating me like one…”

“Sure, sure…” Van sighed, a faint chuckle escaping as he closed his eyes.

— THE NEXT MORNING —

“Alright, you lot,” Unicus began, his voice cutting through the morning stillness. The party of eight stood before the cavern entrance, the dim light of dawn casting long shadows over their figures.

The Dragonkin rested his hand on the curved khukris at his waist, their gleaming edges ready for action. Beside him, the Dwarf stood near Unicus, surveying the group with a discerning eye.

The elves, Sylva and Vaelthir, positioned themselves together off to the side, their silent composure contrasting with the tension in the air.

But all eyes were drawn to Ami, who stood unusually close to Van. Any nearer, and she might as well have been in his arms, an intimacy that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

‘Heh… So, the brat got some action last night…?’ Arnolt chuckled to himself.

Unicus’s tone shifted, drawing their attention back. His voice grew serious, commanding focus. “I’ll be honest with you,” he said, his expression darkening as he scanned the group. “I have no idea what’s in there. None at all.”

He clenched his fist, his frustration palpable. “I don’t know what caused everyone to suddenly… erupt into flames and become animated corpses.” His words hung heavy in the air, drawing a concerned glance from Sylva. The others exchanged wary looks, except for Vaelthir and Savathon, who stood with arms crossed, scrutinizing Unicus’s every syllable.

“But I do know where it began,” Unicus continued, his voice steady but grim. “There’s a large cavern further in—abandoned buildings, a ceiling so high it looks like a starless sky. That’s where it started. That’s where everything went wrong.”

He paused, his jaw tightening. “We’ve had theories. Many of them. None panned out. But one remains plausible—a mage. Someone orchestrating this madness.”

He turned his gaze to the elves, nodding to Sylva and Vaelthir. “That’s where you two come in. Sylva, we’ll need your summons and your connection to the spiritual world. Vaelthir, your sixth sense for traps and danger will be invaluable. We’ll rely on both of you to lead the way through this.”

Unicus’s instructions were clear and deliberate, outlining the path forward with a firm resolve.

Meanwhile, Ami glanced sideways at Van. His posture was tense, his hand hovering near his helmet as his eyes locked on the cavern entrance. The faintest furrow lined his brow.

“Van?” Ami whispered, concern softening her voice. “Is something wrong?”

“No… I’m fine,” he replied quickly, though his gaze didn’t waver from the cavern. Despite his assurance, there was a strain in his voice, something unspoken weighing heavily on him.

Van clenched his jaw, swallowing back the unease gnawing at him.

‘Doesn’t anyone else see this?’ he thought, his stomach churning as a quiet groan escaped him. ‘That black flame… It’s pouring out of the cave. Even standing here, it’s making me feel like shit. Nauseous. Is this because of my new passive?’

He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts, but the ominous presence of the cave lingered, pulling at the edge of his mind.

“So,” Unicus continued, “if you have any doubts, voice them here and leave.” His tone carried authority, echoing in the tense silence.

The adventurers remained still, their gazes steady.

“Fine, then. Follow me into that cave, and—”

“Wait,” Van’s voice cut through from the back, drawing everyone’s attention.

“I’m going in first. There’s something I want to check,” Van said as he began advancing toward the cavern.

“Van…?” Ami voiced, her eyes following him as he walked past her and the rest of the group.

Vaelthir narrowed his eyes, his arms folding across his chest. ‘Hmph. He just continues to surprise me with his audacity… First, my lady comes back from the forest yesterday with a sour face after graciously going looking for him… And now this?’

His fists tightened. ‘He’s pushing his luck!’

Sylva’s gaze flickered with irritation as she watched Van stride ahead. ‘Really. Why is everyone so surprised at this point? Of course, he’d do something like this… Charging headfirst into danger without knowing anything, causing more trouble for Unicus!’

Savathon sneered, spitting on the ground as Van passed by him. ‘Constantly questioning his leader and undermining the ones beside him. As expected of a spoiled brat… Unfit to be a warrior, ever.’

Van walked on undeterred, his eyes locked on the cavern entrance. As he neared Unicus and Arnolt, the Dwarf stepped into his path.

“Hey, brat,” Arnolt growled, his bulky frame blocking the way. “Watch yer step. Just because we decided to bring you along doesn’t mean—”

Before Arnolt could finish, Van gently but firmly pushed him aside, causing the Dwarf to stumble.

“Sorry,” Van said casually, continuing toward the cavern. “I just need to check something.”

‘I need to check that fire,’ Van thought, his jaw tightening as he approached the ominous cavern entrance. ‘If everyone here burns to death, I’ll be blamed first and foremost. I’m indestructible and, well, immortal. So, I have to go in first to make sure this… “fire” is safe.’

The party’s eyes followed him, a mixture of disbelief and irritation etched on their faces.

‘Did that brat… just push me?’ Arnolt thought, frozen in place as he struggled to process what had just occurred.

‘Van might be wearing A-Ranked armor that enhances his strength… But Arnolt is on the verge of becoming an S-Ranked Berserker! He’s practically second only to Marcilla Veil in raw power. How…?’ Unicus’s thoughts churned in disbelief, his gaze fixed on Van’s retreating figure.

‘Hmph,’ Ami smirked, a flicker of satisfaction crossing her face. ‘Dumbasses. Underestimating him like this…’ She sneered inwardly, glancing at the stunned group.

“H-hah… That must be some armor, huh? Hey, kid! Watch your back, someone might steal that if you keep flaunting it!” another human warrior called out from the back, his mocking tone a weak attempt to lighten the tension and get a rise out of Van. But Van didn’t react. He kept moving.

As he neared the cavern entrance, the black flame seemed to intensify, dancing just beyond the threshold. Even through his armor, Van could feel it pressing against him.

‘Grg… I can… feel the heat. What is this…? Come on, stupid Arcane stat! I’m strong enough for an A-Ranked quest. Stop this…!!’ His thoughts came in bursts, frustration mounting as the searing heat seemed to seep through his armor, licking at his skin. He raised his hands to cover his helmet, shielding his face as though to protect his eyes from the oppressive glow.

“What is he doing…?” Unicus muttered aloud, his brow furrowing as he watched Van’s strange movements.

“Has he gone insane, maybe?” Vaelthir suggested coldly, his arms crossed, a skeptical gleam in his eyes.

Ami, however, looked on with growing concern. ‘What’s wrong, Van…? Why are you walking like… you’re shielding yourself from wind… or… fire?’ She clutched her hands together, worry twisting in her chest.

As Van continued forward, the flames seemed to devour the light, his vision filling with shadows and flickers of orange. Each step brought a fresh wave of heat, his body aching as if screaming in warning to turn back. The air grew heavy, oppressive, wrapping around him like a suffocating shroud.

— ELSEWHERE —

[But he won’t turn back, even with that pesky Seed of Darkness screaming at him to stop,] the Goddess Varolia mused, a sly smile curling on her lips as she reclined on her ornate throne in Arataxia. Her legs crossed elegantly, she leaned on one elbow, watching the scene unfold below with amused detachment.

[Because he’s human. A little, sad human so desperate to prove his worth and existence,] she continued, her tone dripping with mockery. Her gaze sharpened as she leaned in closer, her half-lidded eyes fixed intently on Van, who continued his steady approach toward the cavern.

[…So that people would need him. Isn’t that it, my little hero?] Her voice softened to a murmur, laced with a cruel edge, as she cast a fleeting glance at the sealed Magus bound nearby. He writhed in his shackles, his eyes wide with desperation, as though silently screaming at Van to turn back.

Varolia’s smirk widened as she returned her attention to Van, her amusement deepening. [And as depressed as you’re going to get… you cannot change who you are, Hellix.] Her sneer was venomous, her words dripping with disdain.

[You are your own worst enemy. That pathetic lack of self-worth, coupled with your endless thirst for fleeting connections, will be your undoing.] She chuckled softly, her amusement unshaken by the grim certainty of her words. [Too bad you won’t live long enough to witness… Oh well…] She leaned back, her expression alight with sadistic glee. [I suppose I could let you see it from up here after you’ve been beaten. Wouldn’t that be fun?]

Her soft giggles filled the chamber, echoing with malice as her gaze lingered on Van.

——————

And thus, Van Hellix entered the cavern. Above him, sunlight vanished, replaced by jagged rock overhead. The cavern walls encased him, rough and unyielding, leaving the daylight as a faint memory behind him.

…And the flames of darkness he had felt and seen earlier dissipated into nothingness.

‘…I knew it. Just overreacting, whatever sense I’ve gained,’ he thought, his brow furrowing slightly. ‘Welp, I’m prone to overreacting to things. Maybe it picked up that trait?’

He glanced behind him, already seeing the rest of the party closing in.

“Are you happy now, noble brat?” Savathon spat, his sneer sharp as he brushed past Van. The others followed, their gazes tinged with a mix of irritation and suspicion, each wordlessly questioning Van’s odd behavior.

Even Unicus passed him, his arched brow a silent inquiry. Van caught the flicker of doubt in his leader’s expression but said nothing.

‘All that bravado… and for nothing,’ Sylva thought, her lips curving into a faint sigh as she trailed behind. ‘Just as I expected. I guess all he has is his body and that armor. I was right… He shouldn’t learn anything about his parent. He isn’t worthy of it.’ Her gaze shifted to Unicus, who was moving ahead, his commanding presence comforting in her eyes.

One by one, the group passed Van. Arnolt was the last, his face an enigma of doubt and curiosity. ‘How did he push me so easily?’ he wondered, his steps heavy with unresolved thoughts.

“Van…?” Ami’s voice pulled him from his musings. She approached hesitantly, her worry unmasked as she reached out, her hand resting gently on the cold metal of his armor. Her presence was softer now, no longer concealing her emotions around the party.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Van remained silent, his eyes scanning the cavern as if searching for something just beyond his grasp. Finally, he shook his head.

“Nothing,” he replied, his voice low. “I just thought I saw somethin—”

[NEW SYSTEM MESSAGE!]

‘The fuck…?’ Van’s thoughts stalled as a digital prompt blinked into existence before his eyes, its glowing letters hovering in the air between him and Ami.

[A GODLY SEAL HAS BEEN PLACED ON YOU.]

“WHAT!?” Van’s voice rang out, loud and sharp, startling Ami as he staggered back a step.

“Van!?” she called out, alarmed by his sudden outburst. Her voice drew the attention of the others, who turned to glance back.

“Ahh… He’s probably just doing this for attention at this point,” Vaelthir muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. “Just leave him there, Unicus.” His dismissive remark found silent agreement among the rest of the group. Even Arnolt and Unicus exchanged a glance before reluctantly continuing forward.

‘Seriously… Isn’t he overdoing it by now?’ Sylva thought, her fist clenching at her side. ‘If he’s going to be a bother for Unicus… Then I’ll… “remove” him from the party myself,’ she resolved, her grimace hardening into hostility.

Behind them, Van remained frozen in place, his breaths quickening as another glowing message materialized before him.

“Poor girl, falling for his bravado,” one of the human warriors muttered at Ami, shaking his head as they walked on.

[ALL OF YOUR PRIME STRENGTH HAS BEEN SEALED TO MATCH THE LEVEL OF YOUR OPPONENT! MAY THE GODS HAVE MERCY ON YOUR SOUL!]

Van’s breath hitched sharply, panic flaring in his chest. His voice echoed through the cavern as he shouted:

“STATUS WINDOW! NOW!”

At his command, the familiar interface appeared before him, stark and foreboding.

Name: Van Hellix
Age: 17 (42)
Sex: Male
Race: Unknown
Level: 337

STATS:
[AVAILABLE STAT POINTS: 106] (UNABLE TO ALLOCATE STATS DUE TO GODLY SEAL)

VIG (Vigor): 500 (GODLY SEALED)
STR (Strength): 500 (GODLY SEALED)
RES (Resistance): 500 (GODLY SEALED)
DEX (Dexterity): 500 (GODLY SEALED)
PER (Perception): 500 (GODLY SEALED)
Mana: 10 (+200)
INT (Intelligence): 10 (+50)
Holy: [INACCESSIBLE]
Arcane: 0 (+25)

‘FUCK… FUCK!!’ Van’s mind raced as he read the display, his chest heaving. The overwhelming reality of his sealed stats pressed down on him like a suffocating weight.

‘He should be around here somewhere…’ Sylva thought as she walked deeper into the woods.

‘I shouldn’t take too long. Else… ELSE… UNICUS WILL REALLY THINK I LIKE VAN…!! NO…!!!!’ She shook her head in panic, lips pressed into a firm line as she frantically scanned the area. Finding a tree, she leaned against it, her gaze dropping as regret crept into her thoughts.

‘…Airi was his wife.’

‘I won’t go back to the Elven village. He… must be so lonely and sad. I’ll… I’ll stay for him.’ Her resolve firmed as the faint sound of running water reached her ears.

‘A river… It might be less dense there. I could get a better view.’

She followed the sound, clutching her hands nervously. ‘I wanted to summon Alifa, but she’d be furious if it wasn’t an emergency… Why does she hate me so much?! Didn’t she like my mom!?’ Frustration bubbled within her as she neared the river, the soft blue glow of moonlight shimmering off the water’s surface.

As she emerged into the clearing, her breath caught. A jacked figure stood by the river, buttoning his pants, his movements casual but precise as he appeared to be sighing deeply; almost as response to Sylva’s sudden presence.

“Alright, you can come out now,” Van’s voice rang out, cutting through the silence.

‘..!!! DID HE NOTICE ME!? Who is that!?’ Sylva ducked behind a tree, her heart pounding.

“Alright,” another voice answered. “The meat’s halfway cooked.”

“Nice,” Van replied.

Sylva peeked out, her eyes widening at the sight of a colossal creature lying near the fire where the other voice originated from, its skin removed and folded neatly beside it. Muscles and bones gleamed under the firelight, the sheer size of the beast nearly matching the party’s camp’s clearing.

‘What the…? Did they… hunt this thing?’ she thought, her gaze shifting between Van and the purple-haired girl seated by the fire. ‘That has to be the biggest C-Ranked monster in the forest. How did I not hear anything? It must’ve been quite the struggle…’ Her eyes swept the area, noting the absence of dragging marks. ‘And there aren’t any signs it was moved. Did they kill it right here? But how? Neither of them could’ve lifted the beast after such a clean kill… Right?’

“Why’d you come back so early?” the girl—Ami—asked, tilting her head as Van sat down beside her.

“…Because we have a visitor hiding behind that tree,” Van sighed, nodding toward Sylva’s hiding spot. “I’d rather not give them more of a show than necessary. Besides, I washed enough—head, arms, feet. Good enough for today. And I haven’t sweat at all throughout the whole day.”

‘.!!!!’ Sylva froze, her face paling. ‘How did he notice me!? I concealed myself perfectly!’

“An intruder?!” Ami jumped to her feet, her ears twitching beneath her purple hair. “Who dares?!”

‘That’s… the thief…!’ Sylva thought, noting the girl’s brown hood that was ever present throughout the day.

“Can you just come out already?” Van asked, pulling a short-sleeved shirt over his head.

Sylva hesitated before stepping into the moonlight, her gaze wary. “Who are you? And… how did you notice me?”

“I’m Van ‘Jr.’ You were louder than you think,” he replied with a sigh.

‘Van…?’ Sylva thought, approaching cautiously. She studied his face in the flickering light. ‘He looks so much like him. The one I remember from 12 years ago.’ Her gaze lingered on his physique. ‘He’s pushed himself hard… I’ve never seen muscles this toned, even among our finest warriors. Not overly large, but dense, refined… I wonder how Unicus’s body—’ She shook her head furiously, her face flushing.

‘But to think I was loud… I was certain I hid myself perfectly…’ She thought, before hurriedly pushing away her suspicion as she noticed the black-metal armor he wore throughout the day, ‘No matter. I’ll finish what I came here to do.’

“You’re the elf from our party,” Ami said, her voice sharp with suspicion.

“Yes,” She nodded, “I am not here to harm either of you,” Sylva murmured confidently as she straightened her posture.

“Wanna eat?” Van asked.

“…Did you hunt this?” Sylva gestured toward the beast.

“Yeah,” Van nodded, his tone casual.

‘I guess that armor wasn’t for show,’ she thought, eyeing the bloodied flint knife near the folded skin. ‘And the thief must’ve skinned it…’

“I’ve already eaten,” she replied. “But… there’s something you need to know, being Van Hellix’s son.” Her tone turned serious, her eyes locking onto his.

“His son? What are yo—” Ami began, but Van cut her off.

“Now’s not a good time,” he said firmly.

Sylva frowned. “I offer to talk about your father, and you say it’s not a good time?” she muttered, her tone laced with irritation.

“Yeah. It’s not a good time.” Van’s gaze flickered toward Ami. “I’m… with someone, as you can see.”

‘Last thing I need is for Ami to hear about how I proposed to the Elven Queen before I came to her tribe.’ Van thought, tilting his head playfully toward Ami in a silent signal to trust him.

Sylva’s eyes narrowed as she caught the unspoken exchange. Her hands clenched. ‘Of course. Just like his father… Shameless, womanizing… caring more about fleeting companionship than the truth about his own family.’

“I see. Fine,” she said coldly, turning away. “The likes of you don’t deserve the truth anyway.” Her words were sharp, venomous.

Van’s eyes widened, momentarily stunned at her sudden coldness.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean!!?” Ami erupted, with a hiss.

She cast a cutting glance at Ami. “… I don’t know why you would stay with a man as crude as he. He is unworthy of you protecting him like this.” she hissed.

“He would forget about you soon after another woman catches his fancy,” She spat; her eyes narrowing at Van, who soon relaxed his gaze, sighing.

‘Guess she took it the wrong way, huh?’ Van thought, loosening further.

Soon after, she turned around and walked back toward the camp; disappearing into the forest.

“What’s that skank’s deal!!?” Ami growled, “Do you know her?!” Ami asked, breaking the tense silence. “And what’s this about your father..?”

Van gulped, looking at Ami’s earnest gaze.

‘She’s had rough few years… I’d rather not lie to her more than I need to… Well, at least for the immortality bit. She’d kill me if she knew about my wife hunt.’

“Well, as for the bit about my father; did you look at me?” Van replied.

“…Yeah?”

“It’s been eight years, and I haven’t aged a day.”

“OH! You’re right!” Ami’s ears perked up, her eyes wide as she leaned, examining Van’s face from closer. “I just thought… humans age differently or something. Then… Is it a skill?”

“Yeah, I don’t really age. Though, it’s a secret, so be careful not to tell anyone. As for me knowing her… I… met her mother once, and to anyone who remembers me from back then, I’m claiming to be my own son to keep it hidden.”

“I see…” Ami’s gaze dropped, her expression somber.

“What’s wrong?” Van asked softly.

“It’s just… won’t you be lonely when I… age and die before you…?” Her voice quivered.

Van’s breath hitched. He shook his head quickly, trying to dispel the thought. “Ah—haha, I just try not to think about it. Either way, let’s eat—”

“I’ll…” She interrupted, her voice resolute. “I’ll find a way… to live forever too. So… you won’t be alone.”

Van’s eyes widened, his breath catching. Words rose in his throat, but he couldn’t find the strength to speak. Instead, he looked into the fire, his hand gripping a piece of cooked meat.

‘That was the first thing she thought about…?’ He thought, almost in awe.

“…Just don’t push yourself. Not for me,” he murmured, his voice soft.

“Shut up. It isn’t pushing myself…” She looked away, her cheeks tinged with red. “…If it’s for you.”

“Huh?” Van blinked, unsure if he heard her correctly.

“N-NOTHING!” Ami snapped, grabbing the meat and chewing vigorously.

Van watched her, a small chuckle escaping as the tension melted into the night.

“Say, Arnolt. Have you seen Van?” Unicus asked, his eyes sweeping over the camp with a hint of curiosity.

“Hmm… Nah. Haven’t laid eyes on the kid since we settled. Almost forgot he existed,” the dwarf replied, taking a hearty bite from the game he’d roasted earlier, gripping the cooked meat by the bone.

“Hmm…” Unicus hummed softly, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Relax, Unicus,” Arnolt said, glancing at him with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The kid carried that oversized backpack like it was nothing. This forest is crawling with C-Tier monsters, sure, but they’re nothing he can’t handle with that fancy armor. Even that snobby elf admitted as much earlier.”

“I’ll…!” A feminine voice suddenly cut in, startling the two men.

Both turned to see Sylva standing behind them, her silver hair shimmering in the firelight. She stood stiffly, her hands clasped in front of her, her expression determined.

“I’ll look for him,” she declared, her voice steady but her posture a little too rigid.

‘He went into the forest earlier… Perfect. This is my chance to tell him what he needs to know about his father… I just wish Vaelthir had fallen asleep sooner,’ Sylva thought, her gaze briefly flicking to her elven butler, who snored softly in his sleeping bag nearby.

“Ah? You sure, Sylva?” Unicus asked, raising an eyebrow at her sudden outburst. “Arnolt’s probably right—there’s nothing to worry about. The kid’s got that armor—”

“It’s alright!” Sylva interrupted, her voice rising slightly. “This is a C-Rank forest, and he’s only F-Rank, right? Even with that armor, someone should check on him. It’s better to be safe.”

Arnolt and Unicus exchanged a brief glance.

“…Well, if you insist,” Unicus said with a small shrug and a warm smile. “Just make sure you take care of yourself out there.”

“Heh. Good thing that noble brat has someone thinking about him,” Arnolt chuckled, his tone innocent but unfiltered as he tore another bite of meat.

Sylva froze mid-step, her face flushing a deep crimson.

‘NOOOO! DON’T SAY IT LIKE THAT!!!’ she panicked internally, stealing a quick, nervous glance at Unicus. ‘What if… what if he thinks I ACTUALLY like Van!??! What if everyone thinks I do?!’

“T-then… I’ll… I’ll go,” she stammered, her voice cracking slightly as she hurriedly spun around. Her movements were stiff and awkward, the heat rising in her cheeks as she practically bolted into the forest.

Unicus watched her go, his eyebrow raised in mild confusion. Turning back, he caught the sly grin spreading across Arnolt’s face.

“What?” the dwarf asked, feigning innocence, though his chuckling betrayed him.

Unicus sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You really don’t know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?”

“Ah, quit your whining,” Arnolt replied, waving a greasy bone for emphasis. “The whole party knows that kid’s got the hots for ya. You’d have to be blind not to notice.”

Unicus frowned, clearly unamused. “She’s young, Arnolt,” he said firmly, his tone carrying a subtle warning. “It’s probably just admiration. And I’d rather she didn’t dwell on it. And…”

Arnolt’s grin faltered slightly as he noticed Unicus’s hand rising to his face, his fingers brushing the golden ring on his finger. The firelight cast a warm glow on the band, its gentle gleam at odds with the sorrow etched into Unicus’s expression.

“… I’m still married,” Unicus said softly, almost to himself, his thumb running over the ring’s smooth surface. His gaze was distant, as though he were looking past the fire and into a memory only he could see.

Arnolt’s grin faded entirely. For a moment, he simply looked at his friend.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady. “We’ll get her out of there,” he said. “She won’t suffer for long.”

Unicus nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I know,” he murmured, “I just… I just hope she’s already gone. That she’s just an animated corpse and not… still alive, still feeling… That.. Burning…” His words trailed off, his hand tightening around the ring; as he glared momentarily at the campfire’s glow.

Arnolt placed his meaty hand on the axe at his side, his grip firm. “No matter what, we’ll make it right,” he said.

Unicus exhaled, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath as he steeled himself. ‘Airi… I’m coming…’ he thought, clutching his ringed hand tightly.

Across the camp, Savathon and Vaelthir lay still, pretending to sleep; overhearing Unicus and Arnolt’s conversation.

They were at constant odds, though this time – they shared a thought.

That they will not fail this quest.

The fire crackled softly, its warmth doing little to ease the chill of their thoughts.

———–BACK AT THE CAPITAL————-

The night was silent and heavy, the kind that made even the faintest sounds seem amplified. Marcy lowered her bandana, her gaze drifting toward the quarters where the demons resided inside the guild as she rested on the counter.

‘They’ve been awfully obedient… They don’t even leave their quarters except for baths and bathroom. I suppose it’s safe if I step out for a bit?’ she mused, stretching lazily as her eyes scanned the area.

Before long, she exited the guild and found herself standing outside the tavern house where Van was staying.

‘Good thing he lives above a tavern,’ she thought, her eyes assessing the dimly lit building. The windows were dark. ‘Is he already asleep?’

Approaching the entrance, she spotted a dwarf stepping out, a trash bag slung over his shoulder. He moved toward the nearby dumpster with deliberate care.

“Ah, Galdo!” she called out loudly.

The bearded dwarf froze mid-motion, a visible shiver running down his spine. Slowly, he resumed his task, tossing the trash into the bin before turning to face her.

“…Miss Veil,” he muttered, nodding curtly. But before his eyes met hers, he cast a sharp glance around the area, scanning the area like a hawk.

Marcy sighed, rolling her eyes.

“My daughter’s not here,” she said flatly. “You can talk freely.”

The dwarf visibly relaxed, though his guarded demeanor never entirely faded.

“What is it, Miss?” he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

“Ah, nothing…” she replied, averting her gaze and scratching her head awkwardly.

‘Ah, nothing?’ Galdo’s brow furrowed as he studied her, the shift in her usual demeanor not lost on him. ‘That’s not like her at all. She’s actin’ like she’s nervous ’bout somethin’.’

She hesitated before finally speaking again.

“Just… you have a new tenant, don’t you?”

“Ah, that brat?” he spat, pointing at the apartment above. “Yeah. Walked in here about a day ago, and lemme tell ya, he pisses me off already. Leaving shit out here and—”

The dwarf suddenly bit his tongue, remembering whose presence he was in.

“… Is he yer… friend, or somethin’?”

“No, no… Just someone,” Marcy replied, shaking her head. “W-w… What kind of shit did he do..?” she added quickly, half trying to shift the conversation.

‘For that mountain lion ta’ stutter… Just who was that brat?’

“He tossed heaps of wood and broken furniture next to the garbage. Kid’s got no manners, makin’ my Ami clean it up. Though…” The dwarf scratched his beard thoughtfully. “He did call that spirit to help her out—”

“Wait a minute,” she cut him off. “Spirit?”

“Yeah. Brat’s got a high-leveled spirit he controls. Ordered her to clean up after him; she helped Ami with her business.”

‘A high-leveled spirit…? Van doesn’t use magic..! It can’t be the wrong house, too… Does he have a beggar livin’ there?’ Marcy narrowed her eyes in thought.

“Is he currently in?” she asked.

“Nah. He took off this morning, wearing finely-crafted black-metal armor. Haven’t seen craftsmanship like that since my time at the village a millennia ago.”

‘Dwarf-created armor… It is him… He’s strong enough not to get robbed, right?’ she thought, though she couldn’t fully reassure herself.

“I’m going in the house, Galdo. I’ll pay for any damages.”

“… Arrgh, why do ya bother tellin’ me? Ya just go ahead and do as ya like either way…” he grumbled, turning back toward the tavern.

With a sigh, Marcy followed him partway before heading up the stairs to Van’s apartment.

“Just,” Galdo said, stopping her.

“If ya happen to look for ‘im…” He hesitated, his gaze averted.

“Keep an eye out for Ami. She also took a day off, makin’ me do all the work. When she gets here… I’mma give her a good thrashing,” he muttered, though his tone softened as he spoke.

Marcy smiled softly at the dwarf, who stood still with his face turned away.

“Sure. Rest easy, Dwarf,” she said bluntly.

Galdo didn’t respond or even nod, disappearing back into the tavern.

Marcy resumed her climb, and without much thought, pushed the door open. It gave way easily—nothing broke.

The door wasn’t even locked.

‘That helmet-head doesn’t even bother locking up…? Seriously,’ she sighed, stepping inside. Moonlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the space—though to Marcy’s sharp eyes, the room was already painfully clear.

‘What the… fuck just happened here…?’

Her gaze swept over the wreckage: a broken floor, almost no furniture, a cracked wall, a crumbling ceiling, and a ruined, torn bed.

‘Vandalism…’ she thought, narrowing her eyes as she examined the room. ‘This seems deliberate. And… coupled with it, I can see it… There was a struggle. Was his house broken into?’

She moved slowly, her steps deliberate as she surveyed the apartment.

‘… It wasn’t a struggle. It was a one-sided slaughter,’ she concluded, entering what remained of Van’s bedroom. Her eyes fell on the shattered window.

Leaning out, she noticed shards of glass scattered on the darkened street below.

‘Someone managed to escape…’

She pulled back into the room, her brow furrowing.

‘Guess I’ll be tracking whoever dipped. I just hope that helmet-head didn’t get himself into trouble.’

[I sometimes wonder, Magus,] she said, her gaze fixed on Magus’s sealed form. His expression, though locked in stone, felt defiant, unyielding.

[Just what is so special about Hellix that you won’t bend and serve me already?] Her voice was calm, yet laced with irritation as her fingers lazily toyed with one another.

[He’s just some random person. Lucky skills, that’s all. But when it comes down to it, he’s nothing special. Save yourself the trouble—give up and join me.] Her eyes bore into him, expecting a reaction.

But Magus’s expression remained unchanged. Silent. Still. A memory stirred, unbidden, breaking through the quiet.

24 Years Ago

SCORE:

10 – 399

“Come on, dude… It’s been three hours. Let’s just play something else?” Magus said, chuckling in exasperation as he stared at the screen. Despite his frustration, there was no denying the ego boost from the glaring score difference: 399 rounds, and Van was still losing.

“Nope,” came the flat reply from the other side of the computer. “I can still come back from this.”

“Pfft… ooookay.” Magus snickered, leaning back in his chair. If Van wanted to dig his own grave, so be it.

4 Hours Later

SCORE:

157 – 998

“Bruh,” Magus chuckled again, stretching his arms and rubbing his tired eyes. “This is getting sad, man. You’ve been at this for seven hours.“

“I can still come back from this,” Van said, his tone as deadpan as before, even as his avatar was obliterated in the next two rounds.

“Come on, weren’t you bored yet?” Magus raised an eyebrow as the screen finally displayed the game over screen.

“Nope,” Van replied, his voice calm. “I’m like John Wick. So what if I fall from a roof or two? I’ll still get back up and kick your ass one day.”

Magus snorted, shaking his head. “Right… but not even John Wick fell from a thousand roofs in a row.”

“…” Van went silent, clearly processing the jab.

“Because he didn’t try falling from a thousand roofs,” Van finally shot back, his tone defensive.

Magus burst out laughing. “Hahaha, okay… Now you’re doing Naruto scaling, huh?”

“You and your damn anime,” Van retorted, narrowing his eyes. “How does that even make sense here?”

“Fuck you, bitch,” Magus fired back, his voice playfully exasperated. “You’re the one who stopped making sense when you turned John Wick into a masochist jumping off rooftops just because you suck at this game.”

“Assfucker bitch,” Van muttered under his breath, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward in reluctant amusement.

The present returned in a heartbeat, and Magus chuckled softly at the memory.

[…Something funny?] she asked, her sharp gaze narrowing at Magus’s quiet chuckle, her irritation evident as it echoed through his bindings.

[You seem awfully calm,] she continued, stepping closer, her voice laced with both curiosity and contempt. [But you forget who his opponent is.]

She straightened, her posture regal, turning from him with a proud tilt of her head. [Although a creature through and through, he was once known as the Flame Revenant—the Undying. A summoned hero on the verge of godhood, just like you. In fact, the only reason he’s doing this is to take the spot you so senselessly reject.]

Her lips curled into a smirk as she glanced over her shoulder. [He’s immortal like Van… but blessed with my passives, which aren’t limited to demons. ANY being that crosses him has their strength matched to his own—if they’re stronger. A shame he doesn’t have any attraction passives to truly break him… But I have a plan for that in mind either way. But I won’t need to use it, as it seems, since…]

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper, as if the words were meant to pierce the silence. [… He will make Van Hellix yield.]

Her eyes scanned Magus’s face, hoping for even the faintest flicker of doubt or fear. Yet she found nothing. His expression remained frustratingly unchanged, unwavering as ever. Her smirk faltered into a frown.

[Hmph. Either way,] she said, her voice hardening, [you have until Van Hellix breathes his last to decide whether you’ll serve me.]

With that, she turned on her heel, her movements slow and deliberate as she left the throne room; leaving the chained Magus to his lonesome.

———– Back at Marcilla’s Guild ———–

“Thank you for your hard work, Amoria,” Marcilla muttered, her tone soft as she removed the white bandana from her head. The night had fully settled over the guild, casting long shadows across the room.

“Of course!” Amoria chirped, her voice bright as she gently held Lizzy’s hand. The two stood close together, their warmth a quiet contrast to the chill of the evening. Beside them, Michael and Anne emerged from the storage house, their faces dimly lit by the flickering lanterns.

‘So Michael survived in there with Anne?’ Lizzy’s brow arched slightly, surprised as her gaze flickered toward Michael. He offered her a small smile, his expression a careful mask. Her eyes then shifted toward Anne, who appeared unbothered, almost casual.

“Hey, Lizzy,” Anne muttered, breaking the quiet. The sudden sound made Michael flinch ever so slightly, his shoulders stiffening.

“Yeah?” Lizzy replied, turning her attention to her friend.

“Mind if I sleep at your place today? Please?” Anne asked, her voice carrying a forced nonchalance. Michael’s face paled, and he began to sweat bullets.

“Oh… Of course!” Lizzy said, her eyes widening with joy. “I was wondering if you’d want to hang out!” Her voice brimmed with excitement.

‘Oh?’ Marcilla observed from the side, her hands busy organizing the remnants of the day’s work. ‘It’s been a while since Anne’s asked that… I guess putting that leech there reminded her of who she should really keep close.’ She smirked faintly to herself, though her gaze flickered briefly to Michael.

‘But… I guess he pulled his weight today. Anne didn’t shoo him out of there, after all. Not bad…’ She lightly pursed her lips, a silent nod of acknowledgment.

Michael noticed her glance and felt a pang deep in his chest. ‘Aunt’s… looking at me like that… Like I did good… When… When was the last time she looked at me like that?’ His eyes lowered, and he swallowed hard, fighting back the sting of tears.

‘It…’ His hand instinctively brushed against the seal in his pocket. ‘It was for the best… This… This is… I hate it… but it had to be done.’ He clenched his jaw, his mind racing to justify the ache that churned in his chest.

‘Keep quiet… Keep quiet…!!’ His thoughts roared. ‘This is better than letting some scumbag take them away!’

Marcilla’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts. “Alright, you’re all dismissed. See you tomorrow. Day after that, take a day off, since today the Guild was open instead of closed.”

The three left the guild, their footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestones. Marcilla lingered behind, preparing to deal with the demonic guests still housed within.

“T-then…” Michael stammered, turning toward Anne. “See you tomorrow, Anne!” His voice was overly enthusiastic, almost desperate as he looked up at her.

“Y-yeah. Good job today,” she nodded, scratching her head awkwardly.

‘Anne even told him he did a good job…?’ Lizzy thought, her head tilting in confusion as she watched the exchange. ‘Woah… He must’ve really pushed himself today. And he even seems less tired than Anne… Was he training without telling me?’ Her gaze flickered between them, puzzled.

Anne, meanwhile, concealed a bitter smirk behind a forced yawn. ‘Finally…’ she thought, the edges of her vision blurring from exhaustion. ‘I’m about to fall over any minute now… That fucker… He did all the work wrong, and I had to fix every one of his mistakes.’ Her muscles burned as she shifted her weight. ‘And I had to make up for everything he couldn’t do since he was useless after the third hour…’

Her hands clenched tightly, nails digging into her palms as she thought of the mark glowing faintly against her skin.

‘And I couldn’t even stop… because he commanded that earlier…’ The memory of his earlier words made her stomach churn. She bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to stay upright.

——– EARLIER ——–

“N-no… You can’t fall over! If you fall over, then…” Michael stammered, his gaze darting nervously toward the door as Anne wobbled, her legs trembling under the strain of carrying yet another heavy load.

“D-…” He paused, swallowing hard before clearing his throat.

“Don’t fall over. This… This is a command!” His voice broke slightly as the words escaped him.

Anne’s body betrayed her. Despite her muscles screaming in agony, despite her entire being yearning for rest, she moved. The mark burned faintly against her skin, compelling her forward. She had no choice but to obey.

And so she worked, relentlessly, until the sun dipped below the horizon and nightfall embraced the guild. Michael had made her work even harder than usual, knowing Marcy would grow suspicious if their yield was lower than when Anne worked alone. She was forced to push herself to match the output of two people, her body straining under the impossible demand.

——– PRESENT ——–

‘I’ll… Yeah… I’ll tell Lizzy tomorrow I feel too tired and can’t go to work… I need to sleep… I need to rest.’ Anne’s thoughts raced as her exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. ‘I might not be able to tell them about the mark… but… I’ll at least get to sleep and think about—’

“Haha,” Michael’s awkward laughter broke her train of thought like a cold wind. “D-don’t be late to work tomorrow, Anne!” His voice rang out, forced and uneven, as he began walking off hurriedly.

“That is an order, haha!”

He called out again in mock jest, his voice light but his words heavy with a darker meaning. The slave mark seared briefly against her skin, the burn a silent affirmation that the command had been issued and received.

Anne froze. Her breath hitched, her chest tightening as realization dawned. Sleep—her only reprieve—had been stripped from her.

Her face paled, and the strength in her legs threatened to give way.

“Sheesh, since when did that guy get so bold?” Lizzy sighed, shaking her head as she watched Michael disappear into the distance. “I’ve never seen him so eager to work… Right, Anne?” she asked, turning to her friend with a casual grin.

“Hah, he can have his moments, I guess,” Anne chuckled weakly, her voice betraying none of the torment that churned inside her. The mark, as always since this morning, dictated her actions.

‘Lizzy’s right… Quite the transformation this kid had.’ Amoria stood nearby, her sharp eyes flickering with subtle surprise. Even she seemed fooled.

“All right, you girls, let’s go!” Amoria called warmly, gesturing for them to follow her. She turned with an easy smile, her warmth a stark contrast to Anne’s silent agony.

Anne forced herself to move, her steps mechanical as her thoughts spiraled. ‘…Even Aunt Amoria can’t sense a thing…’

‘If even someone as amazing as she and my mom can’t sense anything… then… even if Van saw me… he’d think I’d really hate him and would stay away from me…’

Her chest ached, but no one noticed. Her lips curled into a faint, automatic smile as Lizzy chatted beside her.

‘…I’m really all alone, aren’t I…? Just… What’s the point of living like this…?’ The thought echoed, hollow and cutting.

‘What’s the point of living…?’

A single tear rolled down her cheek, disappearing unnoticed in the dim light of the street. Not even Amoria or Lizzy caught the glint of its trail.

Mom… Mommy… Mommy… save me… please… Anne’s silent plea echoed endlessly in her mind, but the only response was the fading sound of footsteps against the quiet night.

As if on cue, Marcy burst out of the guild, her hurried steps startling the group.

“Marcy…?” Amoria called out, turning with a curious gaze. Her eyebrows lifted as she watched the woman run directly toward Anne.

Without hesitation, Marcy gripped Anne tightly, pulling her into a fierce embrace.

“M-mom…?” Anne stammered, her voice wavering in confusion.

“Sorry,” Marcy murmured, pressing her daughter’s face into her chest, holding her as if she would never let go. “Just got a sudden feeling that I needed to hug you.”

Amoria smiled warmly at the scene, her expression softening. Lizzy, standing beside her, mirrored the sentiment with a gentle grin.

‘Mom… Mommy… Mommy… save me… Please, save me… Please, save… save me…’ Anne cried internally, her pleas growing quieter, drowned out by the relentless grip of the mark. Outwardly, however, she let out an awkward laugh, her actions dictated by the invisible chains.

“Haha, what’s gotten into you, Mom? I’m all good…” Anne said, her voice light and cheerful, betraying none of the storm within.

“You know,” Marcy began, her tone steady but firm as she held Anne close, “if anything’s wrong, you can tell me. Right?”

Anne hesitated for a fraction of a second, her mind screaming, ‘No… That’s not me! Don’t let me go! Please…’

“I know, I know!” she replied instead, chuckling softly, “Haha, what is with you this evening, Mom?” She stood near Amoria and Lizzy, trying to gently push her mother away with an embarrassed laugh.

“Haha, fine, fine.” Marcy chuckled back, finally releasing her hold, though her warm gaze lingered on Anne for a moment longer.

“Take care of her, alright? I need her strong,” Marcy said, turning to Amoria.

“Of course,” Amoria replied with a nod, her expression unwavering.

Marcy sighed, her eyes softening as she looked back at Anne, her lips curling into a knowing smile. “Though, she’s already stronger than anyone. She’s my kid, after all,” she said, her voice brimming with pride and confidence.

Anne gasped internally, her heart swelling with a sudden rush of resolve. ‘Mom…!’

“Alright, see you tomorrow, kiddo,” Marcy said, turning and walking back toward the guild. Anne’s eyes remained fixed on her mother’s broad back, the weight of her words pressing into her chest like a steady, reassuring hand.

“Let’s go, Anne!” Lizzy called, stretching her hand out toward her sister.

“Sure. Sorry about that,” Anne said, taking her hand gently.

“Sorry about what? You’re so silly…” Lizzy murmured with a soft laugh as the half-sisters walked hand in hand, Amoria leading the way ahead.

‘…I… I won’t give up…’ Anne thought, her mind slowly quieting. ‘Mom… I’m… I’m strong. I’m strong like you! I’m strong!’

Her resolve burned brighter with every step, even as her actions remained a puppet to the mark.

Meanwhile, Michael walked by his lonesome, the quiet night enveloping him.

‘I know it’s wrong. But tomorrow… with Anne’s help… I’ll brand Lizzy. And since the mark might not work on aunties… I’ll use Anne and Lizzy to—’

He froze mid-thought, his eyes widening slightly. Then, as if physically recoiling from his own mind, he violently shook his head.

‘…Use their help, to convince Aunt Amoria and Aunt Marcy to stay away from that bastard… that manipulative bastard!!’ His thoughts burned with frustration as his palm clutched the seal tightly.

‘And… everything… will go back to normal again!’ he thought, lifting his gaze to the group walking ahead of him. He saw them laughing together, their joy filling the air. For a fleeting moment, it felt warm, almost comforting, as if he were part of it; his mind filled the gaps, imprinting Anne, Lizzy, and even Melanie’s faces onto the group. In his vision, he stood in the middle, surrounded by their smiles.

But then, a flicker—an image that clawed at his mind.

The laughter turned hollow, a mocking echo. Their faces shifted, twisting grotesquely into cold, unmoving stone masks. The hollow eyes of the masks stared into him, their laughter venomous, ripping through his resolve.

Michael’s breath hitched, and he stumbled, shaking his head violently as if to expel the vision from his mind.

‘…It will go back to the way it used to,’ he thought, his chest tightening as he forced himself to look forward. ‘I… I know it will.’

He clenched his jaw, gripping the seal as though it were his lifeline, and pushed the haunting image into the recesses of his mind.

Around eight years ago…

“Attention!” A commanding voice echoed, sharp and unyielding. The young feline-halfling’s ears sprang upright, her tail curling in response as her gaze snapped forward. She stood rigidly among her ten older siblings, all of whom towered over her like giants.

The source of the voice, their imposing mother, strode forward. Her regal figure exuded authority, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. In her grasp was a human clad in black-metal armor, limp like a ragdoll. Without ceremony, she tossed him to the ground at their feet, the heavy clang of his armor reverberating through the room.

“This human fodder managed to sneak into my quarters,” she began, her piercing gaze sweeping over the group. “Pathetic, suspicious—but amusing. He will stay here as your training dummy.” Her tone made it clear there was no room for argument. “I don’t care if you kill him in the process.”

“Yes, Mother!” the children replied in unison, their voices a chorus of obedience. The queen turned on her heel, her feline tail flicking dismissively as she walked away, leaving the siblings to assess their new “toy.”

They all turned their attention to the armored figure sprawled on the floor.

“Of all things, a human dummy this time…” one of the brothers muttered, scratching his chin. “Mother usually just kills them outright. What did he do to make her spare him?”

“Maybe she thought killing him wasn’t worth the effort,” a sister chimed in, her gaze skeptical. The youngest sibling, Ami, peeked out from behind her elder sister’s leg, her wide, curious eyes locked on the human. A faint unease stirred in her chest, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

The human shifted, groaning as he raised his head to look at them.

“Hm.” His hum startled the group, their ears twitching in unison as his voice broke the silence.

“It only makes sense that a beautiful woman would have beautiful children,” he said flatly, his expression unreadable as he glanced at the siblings from the ground.

“What…?” one of the brothers blurted, tilting his head in confusion.

“Is he insane?” an older sister grimaced, taking a step back in disgust. “Did Mother take pity on him because he’s lost his mind?”

Ami remained hidden, peeking at the human as he slowly sat up.

“Hey, human,” one of the sisters growled, stepping forward with a sneer. “If you think you can charm your way into—”

“I’m not a pedophile. Don’t worry,” Van cut her off, his tone dry.

“…Pae…do…file?” one of the brothers murmured, furrowing his brow in confusion. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s a slang word,” Van replied casually, raising a hand and waving it dismissively. “Anyway, I’m not here for children. I came for your mother. She said if I could train you well, she’d agree to my marriage proposal.”

“MAR—MARRIAGE PROPOSAL!?” one of the sisters stammered, her eyes widening in disbelief.

“Hey, you human bastard!” one of the brothers snarled, his tail lashing behind him. “Watch your tone! You don’t sound a day older than me!”

“So, let me get this straight,” another sister chimed in, folding her arms. “You snuck into Mother’s quarters, proposed to her, and now you’re here to… train us?”

“Pretty much. Greet your new father,” Van said nonchalantly, earning a chorus of laughter.

“This guy’s a riot!” one of the brothers bellowed, clutching his stomach as he laughed.

“…Train us, you say?” The eldest sibling stepped forward, her presence commanding the same elegance as their mother’s. The room fell silent as her siblings straightened, their attention snapping to her.

Van remained seated, looking up at her calmly. “Yeah.”

“Hm.” She tilted her head, her sharp eyes scanning him. “Mother did say you managed to sneak into her quarters…” Her gaze dropped to his crude black armor as she lightly kicked his shin, the metal ringing under her boot. “…With this junk, no less.”

The siblings exchanged brief glances, a flicker of realization passing between them. One by one, their curious gazes turned toward Van’s armor, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and intrigue.

“The fact that you pulled that off might prove fruitful,” she continued, her voice even. “If Mother trusts you, then I will too—despite the less-than-welcoming feeling I get from you.”

A mischievous grin spread across her face, mirrored by the siblings behind her. “But… Ami-yah has to accept you. If she doesn’t, we’ll all try to kill you.”

The eldest tapped Ami’s head lightly, nudging her forward. “Come on, Ami. Greet our new instructor.”

Ami hesitated, fumbling with her fingers as she slowly stepped out from behind her sister’s leg. She inched closer to Van, her gaze flicking between his helmet and the ground.

“Remove your helmet,” the eldest commanded, her tail flicking with anticipation. The others followed suit, their tails swishing wildly as they watched.

Van complied, lifting his helmet to reveal his face. He looked at Ami flatly, waiting.

Ami’s cheeks flushed, her eyes darting downward as she appeared flustered. “Come on,” Van said gently. “You don’t need to worry, I’ll—”

Before he could finish, her claws lashed out, slicing across his cheek.

Van blinked, his head tilting slightly as the wound began to bleed. The siblings erupted into laughter, their cackles filling the air.

“Consider that a welcome present!” one of the brothers howled, slapping his knee.

The eldest smiled smugly, her tail curling behind her. “Welcome to the family, human.”

—- 6 Months Later —-

“And now… she hides a HUMAN! WITH HER CHILDREN, NO LESS!!” The booming voice of the new Feline chief thundered through the village. Every head turned toward him, their expressions grim.

“Such blasphemy must end… Humans drove us into the forests, stripping us of our homes. And while our gods have chosen peace, WE MUST NOT SHARE THIS SENTIMENT WITH A HUMAN WHO INVADED OUR TERRITORY!” His growl was met with a thunderous cheer from the gathered crowd.

Van stood at the edge of the pit, silent. The cold wind brushed against his face, carrying the tension of the moment. He glanced down at the abyss below, a faint sigh escaping his lips.

In the crowd, the elder sister’s shoulders trembled as she stood stiffly, her head held high. “Ami-yah…” she murmured, her voice shaky. She clutched the younger girl tightly. “Don’t… Don’t look,” she instructed firmly, her voice cracking. One by one, the siblings turned their heads, their faces shrouded in shadows.

“Tsk… That human bastard didn’t even get to see how I mastered my stealth techniques,” one of the brothers muttered under his breath, his fists clenched tightly.

“…I should’ve let him sleep in my bed at least once,” one of the sisters whispered, swallowing her tears. “He always complained about how uncomfortable the floors were… but I just laughed at him…”

Van’s gaze flickered toward the siblings. He didn’t need to hear their words to see their regret—he could feel it. ‘…I guess this is it,’ he thought, glancing back at the pit. The emptiness yawned back at him, swallowing the faint glimmers of light from the setting sun.

‘Shame… We were starting to get close, too,’ he thought, his expression unchanging. ‘Luckily, this ends with my death. No one else has to suffer because of me.’

A flicker of dry humor crossed his mind as he stared into the abyss. ‘Maybe there’s another tribe that appreciates stealth I can go to…? Orcs, maybe? They like bluntness.’ He huffed internally. ‘But honestly, I’m not feeling the least bit excited.’

He looked at the siblings once more. Their heads hung low, their faces etched with regret. Ami clung tightly to her sister’s leg, her small frame trembling as sobs wracked her body.

“Van…” she cried, burying her face into her sister’s side. Her voice, small and fragile, hit him harder than anything else.

‘Ah… Goddamn it,’ Van thought, a heavy sigh leaving his chest. His hands curled into loose fists as he glanced toward the new chief.

“Any last words, human?” the chief snarled, glaring down at him, his tail flicking in disdain.

Van lifted his gaze, his light smile betraying none of the emotions swirling in his chest. He took a deep breath, his voice echoing across the crowd.

“Yeah,” he said, pausing for a moment before raising his voice. “HEY, PURR BUCKETS!!”

The siblings’ heads snapped upward, their eyes widening in disbelief and something almost like hope. Even Ami turned her tear-streaked face toward him, her lip trembling as she clung tighter to her sister’s leg.

“You’ve graduate—” Van began, his voice calm but warm, before the chief abruptly kicked him into the pit.

‘Fuck!’ Van cursed as the air rushed past him, the darkness swallowing him whole. ‘That motherfucker!!’

“Hmph, filthy human,” the chief hissed, glaring down at the pit with disgust. “How dare you raise your voice in my presence?”

“Van…” Ami’s voice cracked, her small frame trembling as fresh tears streamed down her face. She reached out as if she could pull him back, her cries filling the silent void left behind.

———— Present Day ————

“How come… there’s no scar on your cheek anymore?” Ami whispered, her fingers brushing against his cheek as they lay on the cold grass. The gentle breeze whirled around them, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers. “That scar… it was supposed to be our mark… our bond. Proof that we’re family.”

Van clasped her hand gently, his gaze soft but distant. “…A lot happened, Ami,” he said, his voice low.

Her hand trembled in his grasp as tears welled up in her eyes. “And how… how… HOW are you still alive!?” she sniffled, her voice breaking. “Why didn’t you come back!? Why… why didn’t you come back!?” Her words came in gasping sobs, each one hitting him like a dagger.

“Shh, shh. Look at me, Ami,” Van said, placing his palms gently on her cheeks, tilting her face toward his. “Would you believe me if I told you… that wasn’t something I could’ve easily explained back then?”

She paused, her lips quivering, and gave a small, hesitant nod.

“Alright,” he said, his thumb wiping away the tears streaking down her face. “Then, let’s say I’m not so easily killed. I have… a skill for that. Comes with the territory of being summoned.” A faint smile flickered across his lips, trying to lighten the heaviness in the air.

Her sobs quieted, but her trembling didn’t stop. Van’s gaze softened. “Now, Ami… do you want to tell me what happened?”

She hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “…The new chief. He decided your death wasn’t enough. He felt threatened by Mother… by my brothers and sisters. He… killed her about a year later.”

Van’s hands froze for a moment before he let out a soft breath, his jaw tightening. She continued, her voice steady but hollow, like reciting a tragedy she’d relived too many times.

“As for my siblings… we scattered. All of us hiding. I heard the capital doesn’t discriminate against races, so I came here. But since the chief is probably still looking for us—because of our blood and potential—I visited an alchemist…”

“He… removed my fur and altered my face to fit a human’s.”

Van’s eyes narrowed slightly, his hand tightening around hers in quiet support. She continued, her voice steady but hollow, as if repeating a story she’d forced herself to accept long ago.

“I told him to do whatever it took to make me unrecognizable. My fur was the first to go. I… I still remember the smell, the way it burned when he applied the salve.” She swallowed hard, her eyes flickering with the memory. “The pain wasn’t unbearable, but… watching it fall away, strand by strand—it felt like I was shedding who I was. Losing the last piece of my mother.”

Van stayed silent, his expression unreadable, but his eyes softened as he listened.

“The face was harder,” Ami said, her voice faltering. “He used some kind of… potion, I guess. It didn’t hurt, but it tingled—like my skin was crawling. When I looked in the mirror afterward…” She trailed off, her voice breaking. “I didn’t recognize myself… But, I always imagined that if I looked human, like you; that was probably how I’d look…”

She laughed bitterly, the sound devoid of humor. “All I have left are these ears and my tail, which I keep hidden all the time. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of them. The alchemist offered, but… I just couldn’t. It felt like… if I lost those too, I wouldn’t even be me anymore.”

Van’s grip on her hand tightened slightly. “And your claws?” he asked gently.

Ami nodded, flexing her fingers. “Hidden. They only come out when I’m angry, or need to attack. My eyes, too. They go cat-like when I lose my temper, so… I taught myself to stay calm.”

Van listened in silence, his expression unreadable.

‘Looks like I wasn’t the only one struggling…’ he thought, glancing away. ‘I see. She’s dead. That bastard… I thought all he cared about was politics, but it seems he was out for blood. He didn’t stop at me. He wanted them all gone.’ His fist clenched briefly.

‘Guess I’ll be paying him a visit.’

“When you mentioned my tribe,” Ami continued, her voice cracking, “I knew it had to be someone from there. And since I thought everyone died… it couldn’t have been anyone good.”

She exhaled deeply and looked at him, her resolve hardening. “I’ve been training hard. I joined the academy that starts in a few days to get even stronger. That way…!”

Her hand clenched his tightly, her nails digging into his skin as her voice rose.

“THAT WAY…!!! I COULD END THAT FUCKER’S LIFE!!!” she growled, her teeth bared as her cat-like eyes narrowed, blazing with fury.

Van said nothing, letting her snarl and clutch his hand. A solid minute passed in silence, her anger slowly ebbing away until she sat quietly, her head bowed.

“…Do you hate me, Ami?” Van asked softly, breaking the stillness.

She froze, her shoulders trembling. Then, with a sudden movement, she threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. “I hate you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. “I hate you so much.”

Her body shook with fresh sobs as she buried herself deeper into him. “I would’ve kept your secret. I wouldn’t have told anyone. Why didn’t you come back!? Why!?” she cried. “We all needed you…” Her voice cracked as Van rested his chin on her head, his hand gently stroking her hair.

He sighed deeply, his voice soft. “…Leaving you like that was on me. I won’t deny it.”

He pushed her back gently, his hands on her shoulders, making her look into his eyes. “But remember what I told you?” he said, his voice steady.

“I don’t make the same mistake twice. I won’t leave you again. Not until you’re sorted out.”

“Forever,” she said immediately, cutting him off.

“Sorted out,” Van repeated firmly.

“FOREVER,” Ami insisted with a hiss, her tail flicking behind her.

Van sighed, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Fine. Come with me to the Demonic Realm, then.”

Her eyes widened. “What…?”

“It’s a little complicated, but I have a home there. I’ll explain later. First, we deal with your new chief. How does that sound?”

Ami hesitated, her ears twitching slightly. “I don’t know… The Demon Realm is dangerous. It’s full of beings stronger than us… But if it’s with you…” She looked up at him, her expression softening. “Then I’m alright with it.”

“Very well,” Van said, nodding.

As Van gazed at the stars above, a new thought crossed his mind. ‘Guess I’ll have to find her siblings too,’ he resolved silently as another silent minute went by.

Ami broke the silence, her voice soft but trembling. “He’s strong, you know?” Her gaze dropped to his chestplate, her fingers brushing lightly against the cold metal. “You said we’d ‘deal with him’ so lightly… Did… did you not hear? He killed mother—”

“Yeah, I know.” Van cut her off gently, his tone steady.

Her words faltered as his eyes met hers. There wasn’t a trace of arrogance in his gaze, no fiery confidence or bravado. Yet, in his tone, there wasn’t the slightest hesitation either. It wasn’t a reassurance. It wasn’t an opinion. It was a simple truth, spoken as plainly as a fact of nature.

“But I’m worlds stronger than him now.”

Ami gasped softly, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes searched his. There it was again—that unwavering certainty. Not the bravado of a warrior preparing for battle, but the calm resolve of someone stating that the sun would rise tomorrow. It was unshakable, undeniable. Like two friends casually dining, and one simply remarked that the sky was blue.

She clutched his chestplate tighter, her heart pounding in her chest. For the first time since her mother’s death, she felt it—a flicker of hope.

“Now,” He sighed as he gently got up, “Let’s go hunt something?”