POV: Rudeus Greyrat
In the relentless desert, everything around was devastation. The ground was scarred by fire and ice, and several stone walls rose seemingly at random, silent witnesses to the battle that had taken place. In the center of that arid landscape, Rudeus Greyrat was on his knees, his hands dug into the hot sand, panting. His world was spinning, his breath was ragged, and his arms trembled with exhaustion. A curved, ornate sword rested against his neck—cold and unyielding.
His staff had been thrown far away during the fight.
A hoarse laugh cut through the desert silence.
"You're getting better with every attempt, brat." The voice was deep, filled with arrogance and amusement. "You almost got me that time."
Behind him, Larax, the leader of the mercenary group Tyranny Storm, stepped back, walking with his usual relaxed posture. His body bore the marks of combat. On the left side of his chest and arm, burns still smoldered, but he didn't seem to care.
"Little Sylphy! Heal!" he ordered bluntly.
A white-haired, long-eared girl, no older than eight or nine, approached with a visibly annoyed expression. She huffed softly before raising her hands and casting advanced healing magic without incantation. Her hands glowed with a greenish light, restoring Larax's scorched flesh.
She always mentally thanked Vidette for teaching her. The demon-race mage might not know Saint-level spells, but she had mastered nearly all magic schools up to the Advanced level—except barriers and divine attacks. From what Sylphy understood, Vidette was much older than she appeared.
Once she finished, Sylphy crossed her arms, still frowning. Larax noticed her expression and let out a booming laugh.
"Are you sulking over your little boyfriend's loss?" He turned to Rudeus with a mocking grin. "Relax, he got out of this without a scratch! Spent the whole fight running around with magic—that's why we call him the Glass Cannon!"
Sylphy snorted but said nothing. Larax, still amused, turned to a brown-haired warrior with piercing eyes who was watching him from the side.
"Hey, Igreed, you're coming with me today."
The swordswoman smiled seductively and walked past him with a teasing sway. As she passed Larax, he slapped her on the butt, making her giggle before heading toward the stone house Rudeus had created.
Larax turned his attention back to Rudeus, who had gotten up with Sylphy's help. The mercenary's gaze assessed the young mage, a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction.
"Hey! I've never seen anyone with as much mana as you, Glass Cannon!" He laughed. "But I really think you could be more creative! I mean, if you can create all this, why not do something like that mud field that tripped me up?"
Rudeus remained silent, still catching his breath. He knew Larax wasn't wrong. He relied too much on raw attack magic but didn't think as strategically as he could.
Larax crossed his arms and smirked.
"And another thing—you worry too much about unnecessary stuff!" He raised both hands, each pointing in a different direction as if holding something invisible, and shouted: "Fighting and fucking! Those are the only two truths for a man!"
He let out another thunderous laugh before turning and following Igreed into the house.
Sylphy wrinkled her nose and made a disgusted face. "Idiot."
Rudeus just sighed, feeling the hot sand beneath his feet as he reflected on Larax's words. As annoying as he was, Rudeus knew that, by following this strange code, Larax had become extremely powerful.
Haaaaah... It had been over a year since they were teleported to the Begaritt Continent and forced to become members of Tyranny Storm. The desert heat was relentless during the day—suffocating and cruel—and the nights brought a biting cold that seeped into the bones. Time here seemed to drag on, each day a fight for survival, each night a test against exhaustion.
Rudeus sighed, feeling the weight of the sand accumulating in his clothes and hair. Ever since Hector, the old warrior who had sworn to serve Larax, claimed that he had the potential to defeat the mercenary leader with his magic, his training had intensified. He not only trained alone but also with the other mercenaries, all eager to see how far the young mage could go.
Of course, no one here really wanted to leave, even if he did beat Larax. The two women, Igreed and Vidette, already considered themselves Larax's wives, accepting his brutal lifestyle as part of their reality. Hector carried a debt to the mercenary leader—one he wouldn't break until death, keeping him bound. Mortan, the hulking demon warrior with an insatiable thirst for battle, loved the constant adrenaline and wouldn't leave the group until he defeated Larax at least once.
And then there was Sylphy.
He glanced at the young elf, sitting near the fire, watching the monster meat roast as the heavy scent of rustic spices filled the air. It was strange… No matter how soft someone was, after spending so much time in the desert, fighting monsters, killing humans, and surviving this hell, they would develop a hardened edge. Sylphy was no longer the shy little girl he had met years ago. Her eyes, once bright and innocent, now carried a different weight. She had changed—just like him.
They had become killers, survivors. Silent magic made them unpredictable and deadly in battle, more versatile than any other mage.
And yet, after all this time, after all the battles, all the pain... Rudeus still hadn't defeated Larax.
The man was simply too strong.
But he could feel it. He was getting closer. Every fight, every blow, every strategy he attempted brought him a little nearer to victory. The problem was distance. If they started too close, he wouldn't stand a chance. Larax would crush his defenses with sheer brute force and speed. However, for some reason, the mercenary leader always began their duels at a relatively large distance, as if giving him a chance. As if testing something.
Rudeus closed his eyes for a moment, letting the fire's crackling fill the silence. He didn't fully understand Larax. The man was strange, brutal, but also seemed to follow a twisted philosophy that dictated his actions.
"Are you okay, Rudy?" Sylphy's soft voice brought him back. "You'll win next time!" She smiled at him, her red eyes glowing in the firelight.
He forced a smile, trying to convey confidence.
"I'm fine, Sylphy. Thanks."
The truth was that he had almost broken down many times during this year. He had never gone through anything like this, never felt this unrelenting pressure, this constant struggle for survival. He was a middle-aged NEET from Japan—a recluse, someone who had never needed to fight to live. And now, here he was, breathing this arid air, holding a weapon, and killing to survive. He still remembered his first kill as if he were back there—Larax had noticed his hesitation in killing directly and had left one enemy alive on purpose, forcing him to do it personally.
The only thing that kept him standing… was her.
Rudeus knew Sylphy needed him.
But she had no idea how much he needed her.
He didn't know where he would be if she hadn't been teleported with him.
Rudeus took a piece of roasted meat from the fire and chewed slowly, the smoky flavor mixing with the fine dust that seemed to coat everything in this place. As he ate, his mind drifted to the last dream he had of Hitogami.
The voice of the self-proclaimed God still echoed in his mind. Rudeus had accused him of leading him into a trap by joining the mercenary group Tyranny Storm and claimed it was his fault. But the God simply replied, "Did you see any nearby city when you found them? Do you know where you would have gone if you hadn't met Larax?"
Rudeus had no answers to these questions. The truth was, he didn't know if he would have survived the desert on his own. Maybe, if he were lucky, he could have found shelter or a caravan, but the Begaritt desert was merciless, and his luck had never been particularly reliable.
What intrigued him the most, however, was Hitogami's next piece of advice. Unlike his usual sarcastic or ambiguous tone, this time, he had given Rudeus a tip that genuinely helped him. Thanks to that, he found his current weapon: the Scaled King of the Fire Desert, a powerful staff made from an S-rank fire salamander core. He and the group had come across it after killing a mage who owned it during an assassination job. At first, Rudeus felt uneasy about using something that had belonged to a dead man, but he eventually accepted it.
The salamander, aside from its affinity with fire, also had a strong connection with the earth element, making the staff an incredibly versatile tool.
In addition, they had found another valuable item: a magic-reflecting amulet, an enchanted artifact capable of reflecting any magic cast upon it. The only drawback was its long cooldown—it could only be used once every three days. Even so, it was extremely useful, especially against powerful mages. This amulet gave him more security, both to protect himself and to keep Sylphy safe.
As much as he didn't trust Hitogami, this particular piece of advice made him lower his guard slightly against the mysterious God. He wasn't trustworthy, but maybe—just maybe—he wasn't a direct enemy.
"What are you thinking about, Glass Cannon?" Mortan's deep voice pulled him out of his thoughts. The brute was devouring a massive piece of meat, speaking with his mouth full.
Rudeus blinked and answered vaguely, "Nothing important."
"Where did that magic item Larax carries come from? The one that marks people?" he asked next, trying to steer the conversation toward something useful.
This time, Hector was the one to respond. "It's a family heirloom. I don't know how long it's been with him, but it's pretty useful."
The conversation stretched on for a long time. The day's heat gave way to the biting cold of the night, and the campfire became their only refuge against the darkness of the desert. However, there were other sounds in the camp—ones that no one seemed to care about ignoring.
Larax and one of his lovers made no effort to muffle the noises coming from the stone house Rudeus had built with his magic. The sound of bodies colliding echoed through the night, mixed with moans and husky laughter. No one bothered to comment on it. To them, it was just part of their routine.
And then, as if he owned the place, Larax stepped out of the house. He wore only his pants, his scarred, sweat-covered chest exposed. He held the magic brand in one hand and grinned from ear to ear.
"Hey, guys! We've got a new target!" His voice was loud and full of excitement. "I think we just hooked a big fish!"
A shiver ran down Rudeus's spine, but he said nothing. He only looked at Sylphy, who also seemed worried.
What did Larax mean by big fish? Had they discovered something important? Or was it just another bounty hunt?
"What do you mean?" Rudeus asked.
"Hahahaha! A really important guy just activated the marking signal. He's a really rich one, which means his target must be dangerous... Hahaha!"
Larax had left many marks across the continents, and for some high-profile individuals, he had placed a special mark—one that, when activated, meant they had a target for Larax to kill.
There was no time to reflect on it.
After deciding to set out for the Central Continent, they went to sleep.
He was exhausted, so he fell asleep easily.
---
But when he opened his eyes—
He was no longer in the desert.
He was in a white void.
And a familiar voice greeted him:
"Hello, Rudeus. Enjoying yourself?"
Rudeus felt that all-too-familiar white emptiness surrounding him. The weight of nothingness wrapped around him like an ethereal blanket, and there he was again, in his plump form, floating before the grinning figure of Hitogami.
"Don't you have anything better to do?" Rudeus chuckled, mocking the God.
Hitogami sighed, crossing his arms dramatically.
"Didn't you say you only appeared in specific situations?" he asked, suspicious.
Hitogami widened his eyes, making an exaggerated expression of mock surprise.
"Such coldness! I've only helped you so far! How can you be so distrustful?" He gestured wildly, as if offended.
Rudeus merely raised an eyebrow.
"Haaaah… Let's skip the small talk. What do you want this time?"
Hitogami stopped, his smile shrinking slightly. He remained silent for a moment, watching Rudeus with an indecipherable glint in his eyes.
"Your target this time is very dangerous," he finally said, almost nonchalantly. "If you continue as you are, you're all going to die."
A chill ran down Rudeus's spine. His body tensed instinctively, and he swallowed hard.
"D-Die?! Who is the target?!"
Hitogami tilted his head and smirked.
"A very dangerous beast-man."
Rudeus frowned.
"Who is he?"
"A little demon who's on the verge of starting a war with Milis. He slaughters indiscriminately and is like a true beast—without discernment or control."
Rudeus's stomach churned. The way Hitogami spoke about this person made an unsettling feeling grow inside him.
"Where is he? What are his abilities?" he asked, tense.
Hitogami waved his hand casually.
"Whoa, whoa, slow down. I came to give you advice, not a Q&A session."
Rudeus clenched his fists.
"What's the advice?"
Hitogami's smile widened again.
"This is something unknown to others, but your target's magic eyes can see memories upon direct eye contact." He paused, letting the words sink in.
"My advice to you today is this: seek out the blue-haired man at Begaritt Harbor and ask him about your target, and above all... do not let your target look you in the eye. Otherwise... you will regret it."
A knot tightened in Rudeus's stomach. He tried to ask more, but before he could formulate another question, everything around him dissolved.
His consciousness was ripped away from that empty space, and he woke up abruptly, gasping in his makeshift bed in the desert.
Cold sweat dripped down his forehead, and his heart pounded in his chest.
"Don't let him look into my eyes…"
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