[NARRATOR POV]
"Ah... that hits the spot. You're pretty good at this, Newbie..." Rudeus sighed contentedly, muscles relaxing under skilled hands.
"Hehe, it's because I'm able to do everything," Geese replied with a hint of pride in his voice.
"Oh? Like beating up a dragon with bare hands?" Rudeus teased, his voice carrying the lazy tone of someone thoroughly enjoying themselves.
"No, I can't do such a thing." A small frown crossed Geese's face.
Inside their prison cell, the two lay on the wooden floor—Rudeus on his stomach with Geese kneeling beside him, working methodically to ease the tension from the boy's shoulders.
The gentle pressure of his fingers was surprisingly skilled for someone of his rough appearance.
"Like doing it with a hundred women at the same time?" Rudeus continued, a mischievous spark in his eyes.
"Two at most," Geese replied without hesitation, his expression deadpan.
"Like escaping from here to Zanto Port?"
At this, Geese paused. "Do you plan to escape?"
Rudeus shifted, leaning closer to Geese's ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I am getting worried about my comrades."
After a moment of consideration, Rudeus stood up abruptly and stretched. "I don't want to," he declared. "Escape on your own if you want. It's possible for you, right?"
The memory of the previous night hung between them—how Geese, chilled by the night air, had casually opened the cell door to retrieve his clothes, shocking the guards before returning to sleep as if nothing unusual had occurred.
"Look, the guards are still staring daggers at us..." Geese glanced toward the watchful eyes trained on their cell.
"Why?!" Rudeus complained, his expression suddenly animated. "At least consider being my guide until I'm halfway through!"
Geese lunged forward, grabbing Rudeus's leg, causing the boy to lose balance and topple to the floor. "I've got something to do! It's fine if you're innocent, right? They'll surely understand."
"No matter how many times I try, they won't even listen!" Rudeus protested, frustration evident in his voice.
"I got it. I'll hold one of the guards hostage and have them show me the way to town!"
"Hey, calm down for a sec, Senior!" Geese's hand shot out, grasping Rudeus's ankle and pulling him down to the wooden floor with a thud.
"Let me go, Newbie! I'm mad!" Rudeus began crawling dramatically toward the cell door, his movements exaggerated.
"I'm going to burn this forest too! Huh? The young lady guard is gone."
"Hey, Newbie, isn't this place getting a bit too hot?" Geese suddenly remarked, an edge of genuine concern creeping into his voice.
Rudeus paused his theatrics. "Now that you mention it, it does feel so."
A faint haze had begun to fill the air around them. "Also, it's somehow smoky...?"
"Huh... ah..." Geese pointed toward the window, eyes widening.
Beyond the wooden bars of their cell, orange flames licked at the forest edge, dancing with malevolent hunger across the dry underbrush.
"Did you do that, Senior?"
Rudeus shook his head, staring at the burning village in disbelief, his previous playfulness evaporating instantly.
"So it means..." Geese began, realization dawning.
"It's a fire!" they shouted in unison, turning to see flames now consuming the bedding in their cell.
For Rudeus, escaping the cell was trivial. Within moments, he and Geese were outside, confronted by the terrifying spectacle of the village engulfed in flames. Through the smoke and chaos, dark figures moved purposefully, spreading the destruction.
Recognition flashed in Rudeus' eyes. "Those damn slavers..."
"You know them, Senior?"
A grim nod was his only response as Rudeus surged forward to counter the attackers. Though outnumbered, he and Geese moved with practiced efficiency. Before long, they encountered a male Beastman fighting desperately to protect his people.
"This is horrible," Geese observed grimly. "These guys are the rumored slavers that prey on the beast race..."
Rudeus' thoughts were conflicted as he watched the villagers—the same people who had imprisoned him without a hearing—now fighting for their lives. Honestly, I'm mad at the people in this village. They locked me in prison and refused to let me explain...
But the sounds of children crying as they were dragged away cut through his resentment like a knife. This scene—terrified children torn from their families—was too disturbing to ignore.
"What're you standing there for?! Let's go and help him!" Rudeus slapped Geese on the back and rushed forward.
The Beastman was startled when Rudeus appeared at his side, eyes widening in recognition of the prisoner. Wariness flickered across his features, but survival instinct won out, and he accepted the unexpected assistance.
Their cooperation was imperfect but effective. While the Beastman attacked the slavers and rescued children, Rudeus guarded his back. Geese focused on treating the injured, his hands moving quickly among the wounded.
But for every person they saved, others fell. The slavers' numbers were overwhelming. Rudeus felt his mana reserves dwindling dangerously, and even Geese was running out of ways to help the injured.
The Beastman approached them, passing rescued children to Geese's care. "I thank you for your help, but please get the children to a safer place..."
"Where's the safer place in this sea of flame, I wonder?" Rudeus replied, sweat streaming down his face from exertion and heat.
"That is..."
"I'm Rudeus, by the way. Not doubting my innocence anymore?"
Shame crossed the Beastman's features. "I'm really sorry for that... I am Gyes... We can talk about that later. Please, at least help the children."
"I have another idea, but please give me ten minutes."
Closing his eyes, Rudeus began to chant, his voice taking on a resonant quality that carried even over the crackling flames. His focus turned inward, to the mana surrounding him.
I need to gather as much cold air as possible, using the atmospheric pressure and wind to move it. I shall guide the spell to create a greater cumulonimbus.
As the incantation continued, the sky darkened ominously. Clouds gathered with unnatural speed, thick and heavy with moisture. Lightning flashed, followed by a deafening crack of thunder that momentarily halted the battle.
Then came the rain—not a gentle shower, but a torrential downpour that struck the earth with such force it created a mist where it hit the flames. Steam hissed into the air as fire and water collided.
"What is this..." Gyes stared upward in awe, watching as the fires began to sputter and die.
"Awesome! As expected of a senior!" Geese's voice carried genuine admiration.
The slavers hesitated but didn't retreat. Though their movement was hampered by the sudden mud and slick ground, their determination remained unbroken. Seeing the source of this magical weather, several rushed toward Rudeus.
Gyes and Geese moved to intercept them, forming a protective barrier around the young mage. Rudeus, drawing on his dwindling reserves, used his wand with surprising skill, his movements reflecting the swordsmanship he had trained in.
The rain continued until the last flames were extinguished, leaving behind a sodden, smoking ruin. With less than five percent of his mana remaining, Rudeus felt his limbs growing heavy, his reactions slowing. If I hadn't practiced conservation, I'd be dead now—either from mana exhaustion or a blade through my chest.
They pushed forward to where children were being gathered. The downpour had mired one of the slavers' carriages in mud, preventing escape. Gyes rushed ahead toward the trapped children.
"Just as I thought, it was you!" Rudeus called out, his voice harder than a child's should be as he spotted a familiar figure holding a blade to a young girl's throat.
"Pet owner, why are you with these guys?" The man sneered. "While the red-haired girl and the fake Superd guy are still busy dealing with the beast warrior group..."
The nickname stung—in the Demon Continent, Rudeus had been mockingly called "pet owner," with Eris as his "mad dog" and Ruijerd as the "watchdog." Their fighting styles had earned those names, while Rudeus was assumed to be a demon race with a youthful appearance, like those of the Migurd.
"I was wondering why they hadn't shown up. So Eris and Ruijerd are doing something..."
"Can you read the room, pet owner?" The man's tone was derisive. "You guys succeed in traversing the sea with my help."
"You mean by using us?" Rudeus's eyes narrowed.
"Of course I did. Why'd I ask you to set free the kids that we worked so hard to kidnap?" The blade pressed closer to the girl's neck, drawing a thin line of blood. Her eyes widened with terror. "It's to distract the Doldia guys, huhu."
"As expected... well, I've already thought you definitely had some plan in mind."
"Say, pet owner. Join our side." The man's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Did you know? Beast brats sell really well. Some aristocrats love them and pay a lot."
As he spoke, Rudeus noticed a Beast warrior silently positioning himself behind a tree, preparing to ambush the slaver.
"Hahah, what a disgusting pervert!" the man laughed callously.
It can't be them, right? Rudeus thought uncomfortably of the Boreas Greyrat family with their numerous beast race maids. Surely a single family couldn't afford all these children... This must be a network of buyers.
"Sorry, I refuse."
"Heh, so Dead End wants to pretend to be a man of justice?"
"We want people to see us that way."
"Dead End" had been Ruijerd's moniker in the Demon Continent. They had co-opted it as their party name, working to transform its meaning from infamy to renown.
"I see. You just made the wrong choice, you know?" The man raised his blade, the girl whimpering in his grip.
Gyes moved suddenly, charging at the slaver. Three Beast warriors converged on the man, who reacted with unexpected speed, flinging the child toward Gyes. As Gyes caught her, the slaver's counterstrike was devastating—two warriors fell instantly, and a third was kicked into Gyes's path. In that moment of distraction, the slaver slashed at Gyes.
The Beastman pushed the girl to safety but couldn't avoid the blade. It carved a deep wound across his chest and stomach.
"Ughh, Gyaaaah!" Gyes writhed on the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
The slaver turned, chuckling as he spotted the girl again. He moved toward her, utterly ignoring Geese.
...
..
Meanwhile, Claude emerged from the dungeon's depths, disoriented and seeking any sign of civilization. The forest surrounding him was unfamiliar territory, nothing like the regions he had traversed in his fragmented memories.
"Where the hell is this?" he muttered, studying the vegetation around him. Despite his exhaustion, his analytical mind cataloged every detail. Perhaps there's something here I've encountered in another life.
"The fauna in this area seems healthier than in the dungeon; thankfully it's a forest. While I can assure myself that the flora isn't poisoned like inside the dungeon, I have no idea how long it will take to find my way out."
His fingers brushed against the damp soil, testing its consistency. "Judging by the flora and the ground humidity, this place is occasionally soaked with water. Which means a flood might arrive sooner or later..."
"Great, now I need to find secure high ground so I don't get drowned!"
Claude continued his trek through the forest, complaints flowing steadily under his breath. Despite his irritation, each step was purposeful, guided by survival instincts honed across multiple lifetimes.
**
"Hey, hey, Senior! That's not looking good! The man used North-style swordsmanship!" Geese warned, pointing at the slaver who now held the girl by her hair.
"You know a lot for a monkey bastard," the man sneered.
Rudeus struggled to remain standing, his mana nearly depleted. Geese, for all his knowledge, was practically useless in combat against a skilled swordsman.
"Now, come at me, pet owner," the slaver taunted, pointing his blade at Rudeus before lowering it with theatrical disappointment. "Or did you get cold feet after seeing that, so now you're thinking about overlooking this, you coward?"
What a coward, holding a hostage! Rudeus thought bitterly. But this guy is strong... Perhaps I should overlook this? Unlike Ruijerd, I'm not so righteous that I'd risk my life for children I don't know.
"You're really not coming? So boring," the man said with contempt. "Alright then, pet owner. Contact me anytime if you want to join us."
"Help me..." the little girl whimpered in the Beast God language.
Rudeus's eyes widened. The plea cut through his rationalizations, but his body refused to cooperate. Exhaustion pulled at him like chains, threatening to drag him into unconsciousness.
From behind, Geese called out, his voice laced with disbelief. "Are you really fine with that...?!"
The girl cried out in pain as the slaver dragged her by her hair. Rudeus and Geese stood paralyzed by their powerlessness.
Then, like an answer to an unspoken prayer, a divine Beast appeared—a dog leaping from the shadows to attack the slaver.
"What the hell!"
Seizing the distraction, Rudeus gathered his last dregs of mana and fired a magic ball at the man. The impact caused him to release the girl, who was quickly snatched to safety by Geese.
With that final spell, Rudeus's reserves emptied completely. He collapsed to the ground, the world spinning around him. Through blurring vision, he saw the divine Beast position itself protectively at his side.
"You bastard! You've done it now!" The slaver's face contorted with rage.
The dog growled menacingly as Geese rushed to Rudeus's side. "Senpai, are you alright?"
"Ha..... haha, sorry Garus-san. Dead End can't be evil." Despite his weakness, pride tinged Rudeus's voice.
The slaver—Garus—clicked his tongue in frustration. He had come prepared this time, with more men than ever before. Already, his forces had successfully raided an Elven village; their captives were being transported nearby.
This night should have been a triumph—a devastating blow against both the Elven and Beast races. The fire was meant to incapacitate resistance and instill fear, but instead, it had drawn attention. Soon, the Elven knights would arrive.
Sensing his opportunity slipping away, Garus moved to attack Rudeus directly. Geese and the divine Beast fought desperately to protect the fallen mage as he struggled to replenish even a fragment of his mana.
"Hahaha! That amusing little boy!"
...
..
A voice cut through the chaos—unfamiliar, yet carrying a weight of authority that commanded attention.
Then came a sound like nothing they had heard before: the grinding scrape of something heavy being dragged across the earth, carving furrows in the ground. The noise seemed to emanate from everywhere at once, surrounding them.
Garus paused his attack, head swiveling as he tried to locate the source. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Something was wrong.
The sound of an arrow being nocked broke the tension. Had the Elven forces arrived already?
"Damn it! Everyone, retreat!" Garus shouted. But as he turned to rally his men, he froze. His henchmen lay scattered on the ground, unconscious—or worse.
"Oh my, they're so weak..." observed a figure holding the last conscious henchman by the throat.
The captive slaver's eyes bulged with terror as the grip around his neck tightened. A dark stain spread across his pants as he lost control of his bladder.
"Damn it, who are you?" Garus demanded, rushing toward the newcomer.
At first glance, the figure seemed unimpressive—smaller than Garus himself, dressed in ragged clothing that resembled a beggar's. But the casual strength with which he held a grown man aloft with one hand told a different story.
"At last, someone who uses human language! If only I met you sooner, we could have had a light conversation. Sadly, we can't now."
"Raaah!" Garus hurled his sword at the boy before charging after it, planning to follow the distraction with a deadly attack.
The boy merely chuckled, tossing aside the henchman's body like discarded trash. As the sword approached, he opened his palm and closed it into a fist. "Time square."
And vanished.
Garus halted in confusion, his thrown weapon finding only empty air.
"Where are you looking at?" The voice came from behind him.
Without looking back, Garus instinctively dove forward into a roll. He had faced enough skilled fighters to know when retreat was the only option.
"Tch, as expected of an advanced swordsman... You sure think fast, but even so... It's too late."
A strange warmth spread across Garus's abdomen—not rain, but something else. Looking down, he saw his stomach punctured clean through. The wound was perfectly circular, cauterized at the edges.
He tried to speak, but blood filled his mouth instead.
Garus had actually shown Rudeus mercy in the past. With over a hundred men at his command, he could have easily overwhelmed the boy and his companions. Instead, he had recognized Rudeus's potential value and spared him, hoping eventually to turn the talented young mage to his cause.
And Rudeus, despite his hatred, had acknowledged this debt. It had stayed his hand when they first met, creating a complicated hierarchy of obligation that prevented him from acting on his instincts.
But this newcomer—this boy with ancient eyes—recognized no such constraints.
The pressure emanating from him matched or exceeded even the Superdian warrior's Touki. There was something more terrifying about it—a bloodthirst that felt personal, an eeriness that transcended normal human emotion.
As consciousness slipped away, Garus vaguely registered his men being incapacitated by Elven arrows. His last thought was not of his men or even his own life, but of the profit he would never claim.
Then darkness took him.
"Hey, Elf! Leave some for me. I still need to wash my blade in their blood!" the boy called out in the human tongue. The Elven archers ignored him, continuing their methodical neutralization of the remaining slavers.
From where he lay, Rudeus felt a jolt of recognition cut through his exhaustion. Despite his weakened state, he pushed himself up on trembling arms, eyes fixed on the approaching figure.
"Why... are you here, Claude?"
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