Prologue
With his heroic silhouette set against the blinding light of his magic, Sargon summoned uncountable swords with all the energy he could muster. Using the last of his power, he struck down the Leviathan as it writhed on the ruined landscape, causing a massive explosion of thunderous magnitudes.
As the dust settled, only the hero's worn and weary form remained standing amidst the vast fields of flattened, scorched earth. On that day, humanity emerged victorious against the blighted scourge. And the mysterious stranger who had come to the people's aid in our most grim hour vanished just as swiftly as he appeared.
He was never seen again.
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Well, that was the version of the story passed down through the generations, anyway.
Personally, I thought the bards were a little heavy-handed with their embellishments. The world celebrated my deeds in festive fashion, but I only really remember desperately struggling to save myself.
I never sought out to protect anyone.
My victory literally came as an accident and I was credited for achievements earned by more deserving individuals. As a matter of fact, the only reason I made it out of those desolate plains was my shameless flight of terror.
I was in a land I did not know, thrust into a situation I was not prepared for and faced off against foes I never sought.
My slaying of the Leviathan was entirely incidental. That day, my only thought was to run and hide. And for the past two centuries, that is exactly what I did.
Just imagine my reaction when I learned that I had become immortal.
Chapter 1
City of Dicarna, Slooth Empire, Year 201 - Postmonstrum Age, Early Winter
The morning air chilled my breath as I made my way through the bustling northern city of Dicarna. It was market day and the merchants have just finished setting up their stalls to hawk their goods. There were more people than usual because this would be the last time that the townsfolk can purchase what they need this season.
After today, caravans will be leaving the city for the south before the mountain pass becomes covered in snow.
Unlike the yammering groups of buyers hoping to score quality items at cheap prices or families stocking up on dried meats and supplies for the coming freeze, however, I was not there to shop.
Merchants from all over the empire's northern territories have gathered in the metropolis.
Where merchants congregate, information is exchanged and I intend to be the beneficiary of free-flowing gossip. This has become my yearly routine for the past 200 years.
I keep my ears close to the ground for any signs that my whereabouts have been discovered.
After hiding for such a long time, I was quite keen on maintaining that state. I needed to gather intelligence on the movements of potential pursuers. Unfortunately, I could hardly move about as freely as I would have liked, which is why I needed to have the biggest sources of juicy chatter come to me.
My enthusiasm for anonymity is also the reason why I was in full nondescript regalia. I dressed to appear unremarkable, taking care to only draw the hood of my cloak over my face. Winter was nearly in full swing and the cold was punishing, so this is hardly a strange getup. This is also why the scarf wrapped around my mouth and neck drew no attention.
Feeling marginally safe from prying eyes, I quickly made my way to the center of town. The square is where the most influential of the traveling companies will have set up shop. This made it the central hub for intelligence gathering and exchanging of information.
Navigating my way to the fountain in the middle of the open area, I chose to sit down on a bench after purchasing a stick of candied berries and a cup of hot tea from a nearby café. Discovering the existence of such establishments in this world ten years ago came as a pleasant surprise.
It somehow made this setting more civilized. Then again, considering where I came from, everything here would naturally feel primitive given my comparatively modern sensibilities.
From my position, I could easily eavesdrop on pretty much everyone within a hundred yards. This handy ability is one of the earliest skills I discovered. If I focus hard enough on listening, my sense of hearing becomes unnaturally sharp.
Coupled with my ability to sift through the details in my head with compartmentalized ease, I was soaking in even the most secret of discussions like a sponge. Absolutely nothing could be hidden from me.
At this point, you might be thinking that a few things are not lining up.
I have been in this world for a very long time, have superhuman abilities, and I am clearly somewhat capable. Why go to such lengths for caution?
Well, to start with, I was traumatized by events when I first appeared in this world. Suddenly finding myself in the middle of a battlefield would have been bad enough. All the loud bangs, the shouts of anger, the clanging of metal, screams of pain, and wails of anguish overwhelmed my senses.
Coupled with the sea of corpses where blood, innards, and human waste created a swamp of ghastly fragrance caused me to finally lose what was left of my breakfast that day.
It was not the first scene of carnage that I had witnessed, but being confronted by another macabre setting in a different place on the same day was more than I could take.
The worst had yet to come, however, when I was finally noticed by the people around me. Looking back now, I could understand why they reacted the way they did.
Dressed in clothing that must have seemed overwhelmingly alien and looking particularly out of place considering the location, I was an anomaly on the battlefield. When faced with an unknown element, soldiers tend to act first and ask questions later.
In what I could then attribute to extreme stress, confusion, and alarm, one of the knights moved to cut me down with his sword.
At the time, it seemed to take an eternity for my brain to process his intent. The blade arced through the air in slow motion, the man's face twisted in an ugly grimace, and his eyes wild with blood lust. All of that information trickled slowly into my consciousness.
Fortunately for me, my body reacted faster than my mind and a blinding light suddenly burst forth from my chest. It quickly enveloped my entire form before suddenly expanding, accompanied by an unimaginably loud explosion.
By the time I opened my eyes, I was sitting in a crater that must have been fifty meters wide. Dust and ash came raining down around me. The earth was scorched and molten. I don't know why I expected otherwise, but I could see no one alive in my immediate vicinity.
How could I have known that I had doomed myself to centuries of being hunted that day?
Terrified out of my mind at what had just transpired, I quickly scrambled up the side of the literal hole I dug for myself in an attempt to escape. My only thought was to find a safe place and try to figure out what was going on.
Alas, this hope was in vain.
After emerging from the cavity, I was immediately confronted by what I could only describe as a living mountain. It was a wild combination of black and red, composed of multiple writhing heads, eyes, and spindly teeth.
It took me a few seconds to process what I was I was seeing, which seemed like a lifetime, and I was jarred to consciousness by a sharp pain. My legs had become jelly without my notice and my knees forcefully hit the ground as a result.
Only later did I find out that they called the monstrosity the "Leviathan." To me, it was the embodiment of eldritch horror; one that could only be conjured up by the twisted mind of a gifted - if slightly racist - novelist.
My mind was a complete blank after that, which I assumed was my brain's way of coping with the situation. When I came to, I was running through the woods like a madman with my body torn and burned beyond description. Pieces of flesh were hanging off my arms, legs, and torso. Bone was exposed in several places and I was quite sure that I had lost more than a pint of blood.
If it had not been for the superhuman resilience of my body that was the result of countless experiments, I would have been dead ten times over. I never imagined that my abilities would be tested so soon after escaping a tragedy, but I could only chalk that up to the twisted humor of fate.
I remembered vaguely thinking that coming here was already in defiance of natural laws. Did I really have the right to complain when my actions came with consequences?
As sturdy as I was, though, it was still a fact that I was more like a mangled corpse than a living human. It was during my desperate moments of agony that I learned about the magic of this world.
Sometime after I found myself running for my life, I found a small crevice at the bottom of a cliff. Hoping to hide from danger, I squeezed myself through the opening to find a sizeable cave inside.
I lucked out. There were no other occupants in the cold hollow and after realizing this fact, I collapsed in exhaustion. The days that followed were composed of screams after waking up, only for me to lose consciousness again, as a result.
My body was healing, but it was not fast enough. I did not have the right serum and without it, my rapid healing ability would not activate. This condemned me to weeks of torture.
Following a particularly violent bout of spasms, I noticed particles of light that seemed to make the air shimmer. Thinking that I had begun hallucinating due to the pain, I reached out to try and touch them. In doing so, I discovered how they clung to me like dews caught in a cobweb.
After wrapping around my arm, the shining flecks sank into my skin. I gawked at the spectacle with fascination and fear. It was like watching me sweat but in reverse.
Immediately after that, I could feel some of my energy coming back. Experiencing punishing pain for days on end had robbed me of most of my strength. So you can just imagine how enthusiastically I latched onto this new discovery.
The more of the particles I drew in, the stronger I got. My head also gradually became clearer until I realized that I could release the sparkling specks, as well. It did not take me long to work out that it was a source of some kind of power.
With that, I began experimenting until I discovered that I could literally use the particles to close some of my smaller wounds. From there, my first months in this world were spent with me trying to put my body back together.
I gradually began to discover more of my new abilities. The process was slow and cumbersome, however, with many of my earlier attempts resulting in horribly regrown masses of meat.
Suffice it to say, by the time I was able to close all the wounds and treat all the burns, I was horribly disfigured. This went against everything I was ever taught to expect from magic.
Far from being a miraculous phenomenon that could fix anything like those from the fairy tales that I was allowed to read, it was instead like giving a scalpel to a toddler.
I could do magic and I was horrible at it.
My initial assumption was that I only needed to will the power to fulfill my wishes. I was wrong.
To successfully do magic, I needed a fundamental understanding of its nature and its process. It was the same as surgeons needing an intimate familiarity with the human body to successfully pull off medical operations.
I realized this fact too late and as a result, I resembled a giant, misshapen maggot more than a human. The scream that burst from my throat when I finally saw a reflection of myself on the surface of a nearby lake was equally monstrous.
The only parts of my body that I could still recognize were glowing eyes the color of aquamarine. Being my only source of pride back at the facility, I only ever received compliments because of those gem-like orbs.
Set against the face of an abomination, though, they became my salvation. I was still me despite my deformity. As long as that was the case, I was still capable of resolving the problem. I just needed to retain my sanity long enough to reverse my condition.
With that being the case, any contact with humans had to be delayed.
As the seasons went by, I gradually learned more about what I could do. My understanding of my abilities grew along with the years and eventually, I finally figured out how to fix all of my mistakes in using healing magic. This came after countless trials and errors where I had to intentionally remove chunks of my body to practice.
With every attempt, I gradually became accustomed to pain.
It is worth noting that I had already realized my own body's new peculiarity during this time. I never got hungry, I never got tired, and I did not get sick. Sleep was no longer a necessity and eating was done more for pleasure rather than for survival.
In case you were wondering, I no longer needed to expel waste, either. That is about as far as I will discuss that subject.
Apart from healing magic, I also gradually discovered other forms of the arcane arts and I mastered them to the point where I could call down lightning with a thought. When before, I struggled to produce a spark, I could have burned an entire forest down if I so desired.
The first to serve as specimens in practicing spellcraft was the menagerie of monsters and beasts that occasionally wandered into my area.
Not really wanting to put myself at risk at first, I only engaged the creatures if I was confident in escaping or if I was forced to after an ambush. I learned some painful lessons from those first few scrapes.
Since then, I became more vigilant and to always watch my surroundings. This was when I developed and honed my detection magic.
Eventually, I became strong enough to walk through the woods and explore a bit. I was still wary of attacks, but confrontations became less common as I gained power.
When I was finally confident enough to emerge from my cave, over twenty years had passed since my arrival. My first foolish thought was that it was finally safe for me to make contact with what passes for civilization in this world.
I reasoned that with all of the time that had gone by, people should have surely forgotten the appearance of a strange individual like me.
Even technically approaching middle age, I still had the simplistic thought process of a child, it would seem. In my defense, however, I never really knew any different. Caged experimental subjects don't tend to get a lot of normal life experiences.
The first town I arrived at was a small hamlet with the name Redding. It was not exactly a poor farming village since there were multiple two-story buildings here and there. However, it did not have the towering walls that metropolises should have had, being this close to untamed lands.
I was fairly nervous and excited to be among my own kind after years of isolation, but my heart was also incredibly warmed by the sight of so many people. The more perceptive among you might have already realized just how frustratingly naïve I was, at this point.
No one obstructed me from entering and as I observed, I was surprised to discover that I could understand the language they used. I did not expect that.
Fully prepared to pretend that I was a lost foreign traveler, one of my goals for this trip was to learn about the world I had found myself in. This was supposed to involve learning about their culture, geography, and yes, the language.
I was saved the trouble of doing that last thing. This made me happy when it should have made me suspicious.
My arrival also coincided with a festival that was being held, which initially thrilled me since I assumed it meant bigger crowds and less scrutiny. Unfortunately, my enthusiasm was quickly dampened when I learned that the celebration was about my supposed achievements.
As I listened to an old storyteller convey the embellished events of that fateful day, fragments of memories flashed through my mind. While the elderly man waxed poetic about my supposed heroic deeds, images and sensations flooded my brain.
He tells the crowd of my bravery, I remember only being scared out of my mind. As he recounted my display of power, my own recollection showed how I survived due to sheer dumb luck. When the story finally came to the last blow I delivered to the Leviathan, all of my memories finally returned.
The storyteller made it seem that I had conjured up power that dealt out the devastating strike. This could not be further from the truth.
I do remember gathering magic through the floating swords of light that I could somehow control, but that attack completely missed. The Leviathan collapsed due to exhaustion and the wounds that were inflicted on it long before I got there.
Had I been the only one to deal out such damage, I could have been prouder of myself.
But I clearly remember the creature being riddled with countless ballista bolts, swords, spears, and other weapons. Not to mention all the burns, gashes, and holes that were inflicted by magic.
The corpses that were also strewn about were evidence of there being other participants in the battle. It was clear that the majority of the wounds that the monster suffered were due to their efforts, not mine.
I only jumped into the fray by accident when one of the Leviathan's tentacles almost crushed me. From there, I mostly relied on instinct, firing off shots when I could and running or hiding for most of that day.
That was not the worst part of my time spent in Redding, though.
As I wandered around the town in a daze, I came upon painted portraits of heroes of that battle. Mine was the biggest but it was so different from what I actually looked like that it might as well have been someone else entirely.
I was depicted to have long, flowing hair of golden wheat. My broad shoulders and muscular arms epitomized heroism to the core, and my roaring visage as I raised my sword against my foe embodied overwhelming courage.
Nothing could have represented the fabrication of my deeds better than this farce of an interpretation. And it made me feel nauseous.
Upon seeing the image next to it, however, my heart almost stopped.
It was the exact likeness of the knight that was aiming to kill me. Moving closer, the accompanying caption said that he was Jean Artaud De Contradie. He was a duke's first son, the high commander of the army that went up against the Leviathan, and he was engaged to the first princess of the kingdom before he set off for the campaign.
All of that should have been bad enough. But when I got to the last part of the caption, the clammy hands of fear crawled from my belly and up to my chest. It read that he was still alive.
He was also recently crowned king.
"Handsome, isn't he?"
I was brought back to my senses as a voice suddenly tittered beside me. I looked over and saw a lady in a simple dress smiling at me.
"Uh, oh?" I managed to blurt out.
"Yes," the smiling woman continued. "This portrait is one of my favorites! It was commissioned before he set out. It was a good thing too, seeing how the war changed him."
My chest constricted at the information this chatty woman was voluntarily sharing with me. With my memories of that fateful day having just returned, I had yet to process the implications of my actions.
"What do you mean?"
The woman looked at me in surprise.
"His highness' scars, of course," she said. "Surely, you know that?"
"I'm sorry," I said, "I'm quite new here and have yet to get my bearings."
"Ah, so that's why," the woman adopted an understanding face and nodded.
"Yes, so if you don't mind, could you tell me what you meant about his scars?"
"He came back bloodied, burnt, and bandaged after heroically fighting alongside Sargon to defeat the Leviathan. Most thought he would die of his wounds, but he persevered and lived. It's a good thing too since he was instrumental in bringing the kingdom back to its feet after the war."
The woman's eyes were practically shining with glee as she continued saying, "There might be some put off by his injuries, but most of us see them as evidence of sacrifice and devotion to his people. We are proud of our king for his deeds."
"I see, that's good to hear," I said with veiled sincerity.
Inside, my stomach clenched painfully as I recalled the true source of those scars and what the so-called hero king did to deserve them.
"These days, though, I heard that he has been spending more time obsessing over Sargon."
That caused my entire body to seize up. My heart was beating so loud it might as well have been next to my ears.
"What do you mean?" I asked, desperately trying to keep my voice from trembling.
"Well, His Highness, the Crowned Prince has been looking for the mysterious hero for over twenty years at the behest of his father. He has men scouring the kingdom for any trace of him. There is even a reward offered for any useful information about Sargon, including gold, land, and even a title."
As she spoke every word, I could feel my heart constrict and my mouth drying up. Upon mention of the reward, the fear that was slowly coalescing in my chest solidified into a block of ice. After mumbling my thanks to the lady, I made a hasty exit out of town.
I could no longer risk that kind of interaction in the future. Encountering the agents of the king would only end in disaster for me.
The horrifying memory of the disfigured knight as he screamed at my fleeing form, swearing vengeance made my blood run cold. He certainly did not look like his portrait the last time I saw him. This convinced me that I had to escape the country posthaste.
And so, my life as a fugitive began.
For nearly two hundred years, I kept minimal contact with others, making no friends, no relations, and putting a concerted effort into leaving no traceable presence. My excursions to crowded places were confined to gathering intelligence and occasionally procuring essentials.
This brings us back to the present.
Now that we are all caught up, I can tell you that even after all this time, the kingdom is still trying to find me. It will not likely surprise you to know that humans seem to have longer lifespans in this world, with the average being 119 or thereabouts.
From what I could gather, the more magic affinity and power you have, the longer you live. With Jean being one of the most powerful individuals around, it was no wonder that he could still be so spritely.
So far, I managed to avoid capture by moving around all the time and being as informed as possible. Even after escaping to another country, I still maintained a mindset of vigilance. Unfortunately, time erodes even the strongest of wills and complacency sets in.
Having successfully evaded my pursuers for so long, I thought that it would not hurt to relax for a moment. The world was about to teach me another lesson about how misfortune strikes when you least expect it.
Once I was satisfied that I got all of the data that I needed, I decided to try and enjoy the market for a change. It was the last day before the merchants left for warmer regions. What were the chances that something could go horribly wrong on this exact day?
Getting up from the bench, I explored the main market. There were a ton of trinkets, thingamabobs, and treasures on display. None of which appealed to me.
Everything just seemed so hopelessly primitive compared to what I used to enjoy. I also made my own clothes and caught my own food, so it was pointless to look for those.
With nothing outrageously magical or powerful on offer, I just continued to browse.
While walking and weaving through stalls, counters, alleys, and stands, I sensed that I was being followed. At first, I assumed it was some hoodlum or thief out for my money. However, I quickly dismissed the thought because of some fairly simple reasons.
One, I was dressed as a commoner and not as a noble. I carried no coin pouches and have certainly not purchased anything extravagant that would have caught undue attention.
Two, the movement was too precise and too subtle to be that of a criminal. I was targeted by thieves before, both as a group and as individuals, and even the best of them made obvious mistakes. Had I not already known that I was being followed through my sensitivity to magic, I would have been caught completely unaware.
A few things about them did stand out, though.
To start with, my stalker was in disguise, just like I was. Unlike me, though, they were trying to masquerade as male.
Now, seeing women dressed in more masculine attire is not at all strange in this world. A lot of them do for many reasons and hardly anyone would actually care. Going through the trouble of trying to look like a man, though? That's another story, altogether.
Preferring to avoid trouble, I decided that it might be best to simply shake her off. I turned down a deserted corridor that I knew would lead to an even more deserted alleyway. As expected, she took the same path but as soon as I passed the corner, I booked it.
Aided by wind magic, I managed to cross the empty pathway, which then led to a dead-end in a fraction of a second. This proved no obstacle for me as I easily scaled it and dropped to the other side. From there, I smoothly merged into the sea of people that were milling about the stalls.
Confident that I have succeeded in escaping from my would-be shadow, I made my way toward the city's side gate so that I could go home. Just as I was about to cross under the arch, however, I sensed a massive gathering of electrical charge in the air
It was the unmistakable sign that someone was about to launch powerful magic in the middle of the city.
A second later, a loud explosion ripped through the air. This was followed by a devastating shockwave, scattering dust and debris, and finally, bits and pieces of what used to be people. I stared at the towering pillar of smoke and carnage, and knew that it came from the direction of where I lost my pursuer.
Suddenly, an indescribable feeling of dread came over me as I thought about the implications of this attack. Theories, suspicions, and potential consequences swirled around in my head. However, what needled me the most was the possibility that I somehow caused this disaster.
Against my better judgment, I ran toward the direction of the blast to see if I could help the victims. It did not take long for me to come across the bodies of the people caught in the explosion.
Suppressing the feeling of guilt that was threatening to overwhelm me, I knelt beside the prone form of a little girl. I carefully examined her first to make sure that she did not have injuries to her head, neck or spine. Confirming that this was the case, I turned her over and saw that she was unconscious, with a large gash on her face and chest area.
Quickly working some healing magic, I disinfected the wounds first before closing them. This was the first time that I used my abilities on other people and was relieved that I did not seem to make any mistakes.
Once I was done treating the child, I carried her to an area where the city personnel gathered the injured. Going back, I wanted to see if I could help even more people, but I only managed to do it three more times before I was forced to stop by another explosion.
Fortunately, this one was not as big as the previous conflagration but it still sent multiple guards flying back. It came from an alleyway close to the source of the original blast and it was quickly followed by even more detonations in rapid succession.
Out of pure instinct, I ran forward and conjured up a barrier of air that would push the force of the shockwave upward. It was only after doing so that I realized how big of a risk I was taking.
All these decades, I worked hard to avoid drawing attention to myself in order to evade the prying eyes of my pursuers. Yet, here I was, jumping into a fight that I likely had nothing to do with and protecting people who might just as easily turn me in if given half a chance.
Why was I doing it? I did not have time to answer that question.
I simply raised an earth wall to protect the citizens behind me and raced to gather as many of the injured survivors as I could while yelling at the dazed guards to snap out of it and help me. One of them tried to argue but I just shot back that there was no time. He relented and eventually, even some of the spectators joined in to pull the victims to safety.
With that done, I decided that it was time to make my escape. I could not afford to linger any longer.
It was proof that fate was not kind to me that day when the building in the direction I was running toward was blown apart and one figure was thrown clear into the air. They bounced off the wall of the opposite building, landed on the ground rolling, and stopped...
....right in front of me.
As if I was being toyed with for the amusement of some deity, I found myself staring at the unconscious figure of my previous stalker. Though scratched up and bleeding, I could see the face of breathtaking beauty. The cap covering her head had slipped, revealing strands of golden hair. As if enraptured by such a revelation, I found it impossible to look away, which proved to be my downfall.
Because I was distracted, I could not see the other combatant emerge from the destroyed building, take note of me, and launch a bolt of fire magic. The attack hit me squarely on the chest, lifting me off my feet, and before I knew it, I was the one hurling through multiple market stands.
One of the side-effects of my experiments in healing magic was that I got used to pain. This was the reason I remained conscious even after taking the blast directly. This quickly proved to be a bad thing since I felt around my chest to assess the damage and realized that my innards were completely exposed.
I could even touch my beating heart if I wanted to.
Momentarily paralyzed by panic, it took me a few seconds to realize that I could easily repair the damage. By the time I was able to close the massive hole in my thorax, though, a piercing scream rang out. Quickly scrambling out of the pile of wood, cloth, and canopy that I was buried under, I was just in time to see my assailant grabbing the blond girl's face.
Magic was coursing through the attacker's arms and this was clearly causing the victim excruciating pain. Without even realizing that I had made a decision, I quickly flashed toward the caster with the help of wind magic.
Once again, my subconscious overrode the part of my brain that was supposed to be responsible for making good judgments. For my efforts, I was rewarded with a share of the agony being inflicted on my would-be pursuer as I shoved her torturer away.
It was bad.
The good news was that my target was hurled several feet away from the person I was trying to rescue, where they ended up lying prone on the ground as if stunned. This momentary reprieve allowed me to get a good look at the enemy. Wrapped in a crimson cloak, a black headpiece, and a silver, featureless mask, it was clear that I was dealing with a professional.
My observation took no more than a fraction of a second and it took just as long for me to make up my mind. Concluding that there would be more casualties if I chose to stay and fight, I decided to grab the girl instead and made a run for it.
Relying on both wind and gravity magic this time, I swiftly departed the scene by running in the opposite direction as the masked figure before whoever it was managed to get up. Vaulting over walls, buildings, stalls, and people, I was able to get out of the city in a matter of seconds after jumping off of the battlements.
Fortunately, the snow cushioned our landing and I immediately got to my feet. Soon enough, the fortified settlement was but a speck in the distance.
Not really knowing where else to go, I decided that my best course of action was to bring the girl to one of my safe houses in the mountains. I could have just left her in the middle of the frozen tundra, but her death would weigh on my conscience. No matter how many years pass, I was still unused to the realities of death.
That was just one out of a long list of disappointing lessons that I learned since coming to this world.
Choosing one of my most secure hiding spots – a small log cabin sequestered in a corner of a cliff that was protected by natural protrusions – I quickly went in with my temporary ward and laid her down on the bed. Lighting several heating stones, I placed them in a covered pan with holes on a brazier in the corner.
As a result, the chill that permeated the small living space quickly evaporated. Taking off a few layers of my own clothes, I went to check my new charge more thoroughly. I had briefly examined her on the way to see if she was in any immediate threat of death and found that she was not.
Now that we were in a safe location, I could take my time giving her a closer examination. Not really giving much thought to her modesty, I stripped her all the way to her undergarments. With every piece of clothing I peeled off, I could feel the blood on my face drain away.
Her state reminded me too much of my own bedraggled appearance after my first and only battle.
I could not dwell on this fact for too long, though, or her life would be in peril. From there, I conducted a quick but thorough survey of her physical condition using a form of healing magic that I devised for my own treatment. She was suffering from multiple fractures, dozens of contusions, cuts, burns, and nerve damage.
While conducting the scan, one of her lungs suddenly collapsed, as well. I had to act fast to save her and once I was done, what followed was 48 hours of non-stop labor.
As I alluded to earlier, the magic in this world kind of sucks.
After finally closing the last of her superficial cuts and stimulating her body to produce more blood, I was thoroughly exhausted. I just did the minimum of cleanup required before collapsing on the nearby chair and dozing off.
"Wake up!"
Jolted by the harsh voice, I opened my eyes and was greeted by a blade pointed right at my face. That knocked the drowsiness right out of my head and I followed the sharp piece of metal toward the person holding it.
My breath caught in my throat.
The person threatening me was illuminated by the bright light coming from the window. Reflected by the locks of golden hair, it gave her a divine glow. Together with her fierce expression and the fact that she was holding up a sheet to her chest in an attempt to cover up her near-naked form, the effect was an amalgamation of sensual beauty.
Dear heavens, I was witnessing Athena descending to earth.
"What have you done to me?" she barked, clearly displeased at the state she woke up in.
Slowly raising my hands, I tried to show her that I was not a threat. Then, I blurted out what could only be the stupidest thing I could say in that situation.
"God, I wish I could marry you."
She certainly was not expecting that. My guest was flustered and could not speak for a few moments as she stared at me with wide, confused eyes. I wisely took this moment to explain myself and reassure her that I was not some pervert lunatic while fervently hoping it was not too late to correct the misunderstanding.
"My apologies for that remark," I spoke quickly before she decided to skewer me. "I promise that I have not done anything to dishonor you nor do I wish you harm. I merely treated your wounds and hid you from your enemy."
At the mention of her assailant, her eyes quickly re-focused and gave me a piercing stare. It was almost as if she was trying to look into my soul.
"You don't appear to be lying," she finally relented after a few tense moments. "Where is the 'Hershuak' now?"
"The what?"
"The veiled one!"
"The assassin?"
"Yes!"
Still keeping my arms raised, I endeavored to explain and said, "I honestly don't know. After pushing them away from you, I picked you up and ran straight here. I made sure to cover our tracks, though, so you don't have to worry about being followed. You are safe here."
This did not seem to be enough to mollify her since the knife she was holding was still aimed at my nose, so I tried another tactic.
"I also know that you were the one following me around in the market in disguise. Please know that I don't resent you for that, though, I would like an explanation for your actions."
She was visibly rattled. Clearly, she never expected me to have this level of insight, which did not surprise me. I counted on her getting shaken up so I could penetrate her defense.
"If you give me answers, I promise to give you shelter. You will be safe here until you are fully recovered. After that, I will take you back to the city and you will never hear from me again."
After taking a few seconds to collect herself, she gave me a response that I truly did not expect.
"Go fuck yourself, pond scum!" I was shocked by the venom in her voice. "Did you really think it would be that easy to coax information out of me? The only thing I'll give you is a sharp piece of steel in your belly if you don't tell me the truth right now! Where is my sister?!"
A ringing silence followed her pronouncement as we regarded each other.
"Your sister?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"My sister, Julia!" she screamed. "She went with you and has been missing for a month. Where did you take her?"
It dawned on me then that she has mistaken me for another person and was not following me because she knew my identity. I was both relieved and concerned at the same time. Not wanting to prolong the state of hostilities, I took a more relaxed posture and kept my voice level as I replied.
"It seems that there is a bit of a misunderstanding here. Firstly, I don't know anyone named Julia and I have not had contact with anyone in that city, man or woman. Secondly, I have not come down from my abode for the past six months, so I wouldn't have had any opportunity to interact with your sister."
"You'll have to lie better than that," she spat.
Though, as she did, I noticed that there was no conviction behind her words. She was not sure if I was lying or not. I suspected then that she was not used to these types of clandestine activities.
"What made you think she was with me, in the first place?" I decided to probe her mind a bit.
"Your smell," she declared in savage triumph.
I have to be honest, that took the wind right out of me. As someone who made it a point to always maintain good hygiene, it hurt to have another person – a lady, at that – say that I smelled. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that there was something wrong with her statement, but that realization only came after the blow.
"My smell?" I retorted with indignation. "I'll have you know I bathe every single day! What could you possibly be talking about?"
"I don't mean your body, you shameless reprobate!" she said, her cheeks positively burning scarlet. "I meant your magic! You are practically spilling your scent all over the place. Little wonder that I found you so easily!"
Now, this was interesting. To start with, I did not realize that magic could be detected through the olfactory senses. More importantly, the way she said it indicated that this smell of magic is unique to an individual. The fact that she could confuse mine with that of someone else presents quite a few alarming possibilities, but I needed more information.
"By that, do you mean that I was using magic when I was with your sister?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" she scoffed. "Your magic is oozing out of you whether you use it or not. I must say, for a kidnapper, you are quite careless. Even initiates are taught how to conceal their magic scents. That proves you are a third-rate caster."
I grimaced at that damning statement, mostly because I could not deny it. This possibility should have occurred to me over the decades of my existence. Still, this was not the time to wallow in shame.
"Is it possible that you mistook me for someone else?"
"Impossible! No two people have the same magic scent!"
Bingo. Now that I confirmed my suspicions, I could draw more conclusions from my discussions with this girl, which is turning out to be quite a blessing. She is a veritable font of information.
"Then I can only conclude that you were mistaken. As I said, I don't know your sister and in point of fact, I only arrived at Dicarna on the day you tailed me."
That seemed to have touched a nerve because she suddenly brought her face closer to mine and the blade point was now just a few millimeters to my left eye. Even with that undeniable threat to my healthy vision, though, I still found time to admire her face.
It was so symmetrical! Everything from the lines of her jaws to the level and shape of her eyes, the distance between her nose, lips, and chin from each other, and the width of her face were perfect. The whole thing might be scrunched up from anger, but from an objective observation, all of those details still came through.
"Don't you lie to me!" she hissed. "I will never forget your scent because I thought you a despicable weasel of a man from the start! You may have fooled my foolish brat of a sister, but I am different. I am Alfea Valendra et Shura Dennet of house Dennet! And I will have you tell me the truth even if I have to carve it out of you."
The way she said that last part gave me chills and I almost believed her. Unfortunately for Miss Alfea, the trembling hand holding the knife gave her inexperience away. You do not live for centuries without learning a thing or two.
Realizing that our talks were going nowhere, mostly because of the false sense of empowerment that the girl felt as the aggressor, I decided to change the situation. Without moving a muscle, a sent a small discharge of static electricity towards my would-be interrogator in order to stun her. Unfortunately, I was unable to control enough of my power and she ended up getting knocked back against the wall before falling face-first onto the floor.
Staring wide-eyed at her smoldering form, I quickly went to check that I did not accidentally kill her. Confirming that this was the case, I then proceeded to dress her up in new clothes before placing her back on the bed.
This time, I secured her with a binding spell so she could not recklessly attack me again. Incidentally, it also sealed her mouth so that she would be forced to listen to me.
All I had to do after that was wait for her to regain consciousness. It only took half an hour before she groaned and her eyes flickered open.
"Hey there, sleepyhead. Are you thirsty? I imagine getting zapped might have left you a bit parched."
Turning her head towards me, I saw the panic in her eyes as her predicament began falling into place. After a brief struggle to try and escape her bindings, she began hyperventilating, which was then followed by screams of terror mixed with rage.
At first, I allowed all of that to happen, thinking that she would tire herself out eventually. When it became clear that she was a lot more determined (scared?) than I initially assumed, I decided to step in before she seriously hurt herself.
"I'm going to help you find your sister, Miss Dennet."
That short statement brought her struggle to a quick end. She glared at me; suspicion, hope, anger, and pride all warring against each other.
"That's right. You did not mishear me. I said I would help you find your sister."
Her breathing began to slow down and her body gradually relaxed. I took those signs to mean that she was at least willing to listen to what I had to say. Looking straight into her eyes, I laid out my thoughts on the matter.
"Honestly, this is a bit of an irritating predicament for me. When I went to Dicarna three days ago, it was only to gather information. However, I chose to save you and that decision involved me in your affairs. With the situation being what it is, I figure that the fastest way to resolve this is to help you so that we can both move on with our lives."
I paused to let my message sink in before continuing.
"Now, I'm going to remove the bindings on your mouth so we can speak, but only if you agree to be civil. I hope that's not too much to ask?"
Her breathing had evened out at this point, which meant she was as calm as I could expect her to be given the situation. Even so, I only got a jerk of her head in confirmation. That was the best I could ask for right now, so I followed through with my promise.
Still regarding me with suspicion, she said, "Why wouldn't you just kill me? I think that would solve your problems the quickest."
"Because, contrary to your impression of me, I am not a criminal. I will not take a life unless I absolutely have to. More than that, it would render all of my efforts to save you and keep you alive completely pointless. I refuse to waste three days' worth of work for nothing."
I regarded her evenly despite our current enmity. This girl might see me as an enemy right now, but I felt no hostility toward her. Plus, this was my fault for being stupid enough to get involved despite my rule of staying out of other people's business. If I wanted to regain my peaceful life, the only acceptable solution was to help her and be done with it.
My goal was to make her indebted to me enough that she becomes willing to keep my existence a secret. This is the only way for me to achieve that short of killing her outright. Leaving the empire right now is not an option either since it would essentially mean leaving her to die.
I was not about to let that happen now that I am this invested.
Of course, even those reasons might not have been enough to make me assist her if something about this situation had not caught my attention. From the start, it felt like I was touching interconnected, invisible threads. I could not shake the feeling that I needed to learn more.
This made Alfea's cooperation a crucial element.
"Tell you what," I said after a few moments of awkward silence. "I will release the binding spell completely. You will tell me everything about the person you are looking for and your sister. From there, we can discuss possible routes to follow so that we can find and save her, if necessary.
"As you might have also figured out by now," I added, taking care to enunciate for effect," I am stronger than you. So it would not do for you to try and fight me since you will only end up twitching on the floor again. Please tell me if I made myself clear."
After a moment's hesitation, she nodded.
Snapping my fingers released Alfea. The sudden freedom seemed to have stunned her since she did not react to her liberty right away. Eventually, she gingerly pushed herself to a sitting position before scooting up against the wall and hugging her knees. I found her wariness disheartening but understandable.
"Well," I clapped my hands once to clear the mood a bit, "you've already introduced yourself, so I guess it's my turn. My name is Casmir, though, you can refer to me as Cas if you want. I am a humble hermit who prefers the company of nature to people. I'm pleased to meet you Miss Alfea."
"That's a contradictory introduction," she muttered in response. "How can you be pleased to meet me if you don't like people?"
"I don't like people, in general, but I can still appreciate meeting individuals. In your case, I am genuinely pleased to make your acquaintance."
"You know that only makes you more suspicious, don't you? I came close to blinding you earlier. I would be aggravated at me, were I in your shoes and yet you're speaking to me like you are trying to curry favor."
"I'm not entirely sure why either," I shrugged. "The fact remains that this is what I feel and I can only be honest about that."
She gave me an incredulous look.
"Still, continuing to debate this will get us nowhere, so let's move on to talking about your sister's disappearance. Can you tell me about her?"
Looking away from me for the first time, it would appear that she was gathering her thoughts before responding. After a few moments, she turned back and gave me a frank stare. From that, I gathered that she was now more willing to cooperate if a bit hesitantly.
Not that I gave her much choice, at this point. Regardless of her mistrust, she was at my mercy. If she actually wanted to find her sister, continuing to antagonize me would only be to her disadvantage.
Had I known what awaited me after our little discussion, though, I might have been a tad less enthusiastic about jumping into the whole affair blind.