THE TRIP through the dimensional rift evoked a very peculiar sensation. My
surroundings whizzed by in an indistinct blur of colors while the space below
slipped from underneath me. I stared blankly off into the distance with no
more tears left to cry.
I landed with a jolt on hard ground, though my fall was cushioned by a pile of
leaves and vines. It didn't matter, though. Even if I had landed on jagged
rocks, I probably wouldn't have noticed.
I remained in the same seated position I had maintained during the trip, not
even bothering to look around me and take in my surroundings.
She was gone.
I would never have the chance to see her again.
Those two thoughts triggered another wave of emotion, and I heaved with
sobs.
I recalled the months we had spent together—how caring she was, how she
had treated me like her own blood. I didn't care that she had delayed sending
me home in order to keep me with her. In the short time I had been with
Sylvia, she'd taught me so much and given me insights I had lacked in this
world.
The anguish was overwhelming, and I succumbed to the urge to sleep—my
mind's way of coping with it, I supposed. I curled up into a ball where I had
landed, but then a searing pain jolted me back up.The burning sensation spread from my mana core throughout my body, and
then a voice echoed in my head.
'Ahem. Testing, testing… Ah, good! Hello, Art. This is Sylvia.'
My heart fluttered in instant response to the voice.
"Sylvia! I'm here! Can
you hear—"
'If you're listening to this right now, it means I have shown you what I
actually am.'
It was some kind of recording. She must have implanted it in me when she
gouged that small hole into my mana core.
'You're nowhere near ready right now to know the whole truth. Knowing
you, if you knew who my enemy was, you would have brashly tried to fight
him. Little Art, you are barely four years old. Yet, looking at your mana core
and seeing that it is already dark red in color, I have realized that you have a
rare talent. I will leave you with this: I have imbued your mana core with my
unique will. This is something incomparable to the will of any normal beast.
Your future progress as a mage depends on how well you will be able to use
it…'
Was that why the purple in her eyes and her golden patterns had disappeared?
'When your mana core passes the white stage, you will
hear from me again.
At that time, I will explain everything. What you do from there will be your
choice.'
There was a stage past white?
'Lastly, Art… I know you may be grieving, but remember: You have your
family to look out for, and the stone I entrusted you with. My wish is for you
to embrace the joys and innocence of childhood, train hard, and make your
parents and me proud. Do not go chasing after shadows in a fit of rage.
Killing the ones responsible for my death will neither bring me back to life
nor ease your pain. There is a reason for everything and I do not regret what
has happened. With this, I bid you farewell for now.
Remember, protect your
family and the stone, study what I have left you, and enjoy this life, King Grey.'
That name and title were from my previous world.
She had known the entire time…
Did she discover something in my mana core? Was she able to look into my
memories?
I had so many questions, but the only one who could answer them was gone.
I refused to move for a long time, staying in my cozy fetal position, deep in
thought.
Sylvia was right. She had known what my life back in my old world was like.
I could not let myself make the same mistake—living solely for the sake of
pursuing strength. I wanted to be strong, but I also wanted to live my life
without regret. I wanted to live a life that Sylvia would be proud of. Even if I
reached whatever stage was after white, I did not think it would please her to
know I had lived a life of only training. No, I needed to hurry and reach my
family.
But before I could do that, I needed to know—where the
hell was I?
Looking around, trees surrounded me, towering high over my head. A dense
fog loomed thickly a few inches off the ground, filling the air with nearly
palpable moisture.
Trees and an unnaturally thick fog…
I sank back on my butt, crestfallen. This could only mean one thing.
I was in the Forest of Elshire.
A disheartened sigh escaped from my mouth as I
picked myself up.
It seemed I wouldn't be reuniting with my family any time soon. It had been
over four months since I had gone over the cliff. My family had probably
gone back to Ashber—or perhaps they had decided to stay in Xyrus.
I didn't have any sort of provisions other than the clothes on my back, and
the strange stone wrapped in Sylvia's feather. This cursed fog limited my
vision to a few yards in any direction. Reinforcing my eyes with mana helped
quite a bit, but it didn't solve the even bigger problem, which was how to get out of this place.
I reinforced my body and enabled mana rotation, which had become second
nature to me by now. Right now, I could only absorb roughly twenty percent
of what I could while just meditating, but I couldn't complain.
The only downside to mana rotation was that it wasn't a replacement for
strengthening the mana core. In order to purify my mana core and get to the
next stage, I would need to focus solely on gathering mana, from both my
body and the surrounding atmosphere, and use that to get rid of the impurities
little by little. After getting my mana core to the dark red level, I did notice
that the amount of mana I could store increased significantly. Although the
core does not grow in size, I assumed a higher purity allowed more mana to
be stored.
I climbed up the nearest tree, and once I got high enough, I focused mana into
only my eyes, enhancing my vision even further.
I wasn't looking for a way out, but rather for any signs of people. Sylvia had
said that I would be teleported close to humans, so I was hoping there might
be adventurers traveling nearby who could direct me out, or even escort me.
After about ten minutes of searching, jumping from tree to tree, I found what
I was looking for.
I hopped a few more trees, feeling quite proud of my primate nimbleness, and
stopped at a branch closer to what I'd found. A group of humans were
gathered near a carriage. I'd wanted to jump down and greet them in hopes
that they'd take me back to my home, but some inexplicable urge told me not
to. Studying their expressions and the way they moved told me something
was off.
I hid myself completely behind the trunk and listened intently.
"No! Help! Someone please help! Mommy! Daddy!
Nooo!"
"Someone shut her up. She's going to attract attention."
There was the sound of a thud, then another voice spoke.
"Put her in the back of the carriage, and make it quick. Still a few days untilwe get to the safety of the mountain range. We can't slow down now. We
have to keep moving."
"Hey, boss, how much y'reckon she'll sell for? Elf girls go for a lot, don't
they? And as young as she is, she's probably a virgin at that. I bet she'll fetch
a lot, huh?"
Slave traders.
I carefully took a peek, spotting the small carriage, just big enough to carry
five or six adults if they were crammed in tightly. Just then, a middle-aged
man came into view, hauling a little girl to the back of the carriage. She
looked to be around six or seven, with the silvery hue in her hair and the
pointed ears that elves were famous for.
What do I do?
How were they even able to kidnap an elf in the first place? The Elshire
Forest's magical fog was supposed to disorient the senses of even the most
capable mage.
After a few more seconds of observing, I found my answer.
Attached to leashes were mana beasts, creatures that looked like a mix
between a deer and a dog. They had large, branching antlers, looking like a
complicated antenna. These creatures had been mentioned in the
encyclopedia I had always carried with me. The forest hounds were native to
the Forest of Elshire, and could navigate even better than the elves
themselves. How these brutes had acquired forest hounds, I had no idea, but I
needed to think of a plan.
Option one: Steal one of the forest hounds and have it lead me out of the
forest.
Option two: Kidnap the kidnapped elf girl and have her lead me out of the
forest.
Option three: Kill all the slave traders and set the elf girl free, then take the
forest hounds and have them lead me out of the forest.
I pondered for a couple of minutes, struggling with a dilemma. The first option would be easiest, but it didn't sit right with me to just leave the elf
girl.
But who knows, I thought, rationalizing. Maybe she'll get bought by a kind
old man who will free her and take her back to her home.
Fat chance.
The second option had an obvious flaw; once I saved the elf, she might refuse
to lead me out of the forest and insist on going back home. The slave traders
probably wouldn't take it too kindly, either.
Option three had the best outcome, but was by far the most difficult and
dangerous, considering that there were four of them and only one of me.
Because of the fog, I couldn't sense if any of them were mages, but it was
safe to assume that at least one of them would be. The fact that they had
captured an elf in the forest meant they were either extremely lucky, or they
were professionals.
I let out another deep breath. I seemed to be sighing a lot these days.
Option three it is.
Deciding to trail them and actually following through with it were two
different matters. The forest hounds were already warily sniffing in my
direction, sensing that someone was near. I had to follow them at quite a
distance, constantly using mana to keep up with their carriage from far
enough back that I could still track them, but they wouldn't notice me. But
through constant mana usage, with the help of mana rotation, I managed to
keep them in my sights.
Less than an hour before nightfall, they had stopped and set up camp,
allowing me to quietly observe them until I had learned enough about them to
confidently make a move. I waited until it was completely dark, then moved
carefully to a branch directly above the carriage and prepared to put my plan
into action. First I stirred up the forest hounds with a carefully thrown rock.
Despite their bumbling appearance, the slave traders were surprisingly
vigilant; they never built a fire and kept two people on guard at all times.When the forest hounds began squealing, one of the two guards—a lanky
man, armed only with a long knife—went around to the other side of the
carriage to quiet them. The guard who stayed behind was sitting on a fallen
log, fiddling with something in his hands while the other two traders were
sleeping inside the tent.
My first target would be the one who had gone to quiet the forest hounds. His
lean muscles were visible, but he didn't seem too strong. I dropped down
with a quiet thud behind him.
Startled by the soft sound, Lanky turned around, probably expecting a curious
weasel or rat. His face twisted into a mixture of surprise and amusement
when he saw me, a four-year-old child in ragged clothes.
But before he even had the chance to speak, I lunged upward toward his
neck. I infused mana into the blade of my hand, turning it into a sharp edge.
This was called 'the swordless art' in my old world, but here it would be
more accurate to call it a wind attribute technique.
He flinched back reflexively, his hands coming up toward his face to guard
against my blow.
It was too late.
I took a quick swipe at his jugular, taking his larynx out along with his
carotid artery. A stream of blood sprayed out of his neck as I landed behind
him, supporting his lifeless body and gently placing him down to avoid
making noise. As I had expected, the forest hounds Lanky had just calmed
down were sent back into a frenzy at the stench of blood, and they resumed
their howling and barking.
"Oy, Pinky! Can't even calm the hounds? What the…"
I had already retrieved Pinky's knife and was waiting for the second man at
the back corner of the carriage.
While the second slave trader's attention was on Pinky's corpse—currently
being eaten by the forest hounds—I jumped out from behind him and stabbed
him in the neck.With that crippled leg, George was out of the fight, but this augmenter was
going to be trouble.
The augmenter, Danton, suddenly sprung at me, his right arm poised to throw
a punch. I could only assume he chose not to use his sword so as not to
damage his "goods." While I'd normally have been offended, in this case his
overconfidence made it much easier for me.
I jumped back in time to avoid the blow, which was strong enough to leave a
small dent in the ground. I threw my knife at him, using the same trick as I
had with the conjurer I'd dragged over the cliff, but this mage was more
careful. He disrupted the mana string with his sword and grabbed my knife
with his free hand.
Shit.
I was in a bad position. Danton wasn't tall, but his reach was still a good bit
longer than mine. He also had a sword, which he now deemed it necessary to
use, and that further increased his range.
Wasting no time, Danton dashed toward me, throwing the knife that I had just
launched at him. I easily dodged, but not in time to react to his next move as
he swiped at my leg with his sheath. As I stumbled, trying to regain my
balance, he grabbed hold of my ankle and flipped me upside down.
His confident face crumpled as I concentrated mana and punched the hand
that gripped me. I used a fire attribute technique, releasing all the mana
focused on my fist, and aimed for the weak joints of his wrist.
A loud crack, followed by howled profanities, proved that the attack was
sufficient.
He could no longer grip my ankle with his broken wrist, so I fell, landing
awkwardly on my back. Quickly jumping up to my feet, I picked up Pinky's
knife and charged toward the wounded Danton. Still preoccupied by the pain
in his wrist, he cursed, "You're dead now, you piece of shit! I don't care if I
can't sell you anymore!"
His left wrist was useless, leaving a gap in his defense. I willed more mana into my feet and came within range. I was about to land a solid hit to his side
when I saw him furiously swinging his sword down.
He fell for it!
I quickly pivoted with my left foot in place, spinning to my right. Dodging
the swing by a hair's breadth, I brought my knife within range of his right
side, which was now open because of his last desperate swing.
He immediately tried to jump back, but I placed my right foot behind his leg,
throwing him off balance. With one quick thrust I jabbed my knife up under
his armpit, through the gap between his ribs, and into his chest.
I finished him off easily while his lung collapsed from the wound.
I was now left with the immobile George. The poor fighter couldn't really
defend himself or run away with his useless leg. I couldn't use Danton's
sword—it was too large and heavy for me—so I made use of Pinky's knife
one last time and swiped George's jugular. He died with a look of disbelief,
and I fed him to the hounds.
Judging by the eerie quiet, the elf girl seemed to know there was fighting
going on. I climbed up onto the back of the carriage where she was locked
and spotted her shivering in the corner, her once lavish clothing caked with
dirt and grime. She studied me with an expression of surprise and doubt, her
eyes seeming to say, 'He can't have been the one who saved me, can he?'
She remained silent as I untied her, her swollen turquoise eyes never leaving
my face.
Tired and feeling gross, I helped her up and said simply, "You should go
back home now."
She probably hadn't known until now whether I was an enemy or friend, but
when I said the word 'home,' a look of relief washed over her tense face and
she broke down, hiccupping and sobbing.
"I was so scared! They were going to sell me. I thought I was never going to
see my family again"
I sat quietly next to her, offering silent comfort as she wept.