At this moment, I found myself standing in a place entirely unfamiliar to me.
A world that looked and felt like something out of a fantasy tale.
The room was illuminated by a glow as radiant as the gentle morning sun, a light that comforted sorrowful and grieving souls with its warmth.
The ceiling of this space was an endless expanse of blue sky, adorned with drifting white clouds. Not just the ceiling—everywhere I looked, my vision was filled with nothing but that serene sky and those tranquil clouds, floating ever so peacefully.
And yet, there was no sun in the sky above me.
Where, then, did this brilliant light come from?
I took a step forward.
Suddenly, the gentle sound of rippling water reached my ears.
Looking down, I was met with yet another breathtaking sight.
My feet were standing atop a vast surface of water—yet I did not sink. The water beneath me had no visible bottom. It merely reflected my silhouette, the blue sky, and the white clouds above.
Where was I?
As I lifted my gaze once more, I noticed a lone figure in the distance—
A man, seated on a long wooden bench.
A simple brown bench, like the ones often found in public gardens.
In this vast, boundless world of fantasy, that bench stood as the only distinct object in sight. Almost as if it had been placed there deliberately, offering a seat to those who wished to bask in the tranquility of this ethereal realm.
I began walking toward the man.
A gentle breeze suddenly caressed my skin.
The wind was soothing, carrying a quiet welcome as if whispering its greeting to me. My hair swayed and danced in harmony with the gentle current, lifted by the invisible hands of the breeze.
As I drew closer, I could make out the man's features more clearly.
He was an elderly man, appearing to be in his seventies.
His face was adorned with a thick mustache and beard of deep brownish-black. Long strands of hair framed his face, streaked with vivid red—red as fresh blood. Those crimson streaks stood out starkly against his jet-black hair, glowing almost unnaturally.
At last, I stood beside him.
"Excuse me, am I disturbing you, sir?"
I asked gently, my voice soft and polite.
The old man turned his face toward me, revealing his piercing red eyes, glowing brightly against the pitch-black sclera of his gaze.
Ordinarily, I might have been startled—perhaps even frightened—by such an unnatural eye color.
But the gentle, serene expression on the old man's face quelled my unease. The moment I saw his calm smile, my apprehensions faded away.
"Elena… I have been waiting for your arrival for quite some time."
"You… know me?"
His words startled me.
How did he know my name?
The old man simply smiled.
"But of course. This old man possesses a wealth of knowledge, enough to be quite familiar with you, Elena."
Seeing my confusion, he patted the empty space beside him on the bench and spoke in a warm voice,
"Come, little lady. Sit beside this old man. I wish to tell you a story. A story that may seem dull at first, but please listen carefully. For this tale… may aid you in the days to come."
His crimson eyes held a softness that put me at ease.
Slowly, I approached and sat beside the old man.
Up close, I could see his slit-shaped pupils—long and narrow, like those of a direwolf.
Who was this man?
Was he even human?
"Are you afraid of me, little lady?"
"A little..."
The old man burst into hearty laughter at my honest reply.
"You are quite the truthful one, little lady. But have no fear, this old man merely wishes to share a story with you as a token of gratitude."
"Gratitude? What have I done for you to feel thankful? This is our first time meeting, isn't it?"
At my question, the old man merely smiled—his answer vague and mysterious.
"Yes, this is our first meeting. And yet, I have known you for quite some time, little lady. Perhaps… our encounter today was a fate preordained by the heavens."
"Fate…? Then, may I at least know your name first, sir?"
I asked, unable to comprehend what kind of fate he spoke of.
The old man gazed at me for a long moment before finally answering.
"My name… is Fenrir."
I was taken aback.
Fenrir—an odd name for a human.
After all, Fenrir was the name of a mythical beast, a legendary figure of the Northern Continent.
Hearing his name only deepened my unease.
One part of me wanted to believe that this old man truly was the Fenrir of legend.
But another part of me desperately refused to accept such an impossible notion.
"Then… why are you here alone, Fenrir-sama?"
"To meet you. To speak with you."
"What is it that you wish to talk about?"
"Little lady, what are your thoughts on the Swordmaster you summoned from another world?"
His question struck me like lightning.
How did he know about Ryuji-san?
"How do you—"
"Are you confused as to how this old man knows? Did I not tell you before? I am a man of vast knowledge, one who knows almost everything about you."
The revelation left my mind in disarray.
Who was this man truly?
How could he possibly know so much about me?
"Well then, little lady, will you answer my question?"
Fenrir-sama's voice gently pulled me back from my spiraling thoughts.
I took a deep breath before responding.
"Of course… To me, Ryuji-san is a hero—the man who saved my village. A strange man who, at times, carries a loneliness in his eyes. A man whose gaze occasionally fills me with anxiety and fear, as I glimpse the hatred and vengeance festering deep within his soul.
"At times, it feels as though he is drowning in darkness—consumed by an insatiable thirst for bloodshed and slaughter.
"And that… is why I wish to remain by his side. To keep him from being swallowed by that darkness."
Fenrir-sama listened quietly to my words.
Then, he spoke.
"I see… In that case, this old man shall tell you the story of his life. A tale of tragedy… of pain that carves an eternal wound into one's soul. A sorrowful tale of an old man burdened by a life far too long… weighed down by suffering and loss."
And so, Fenrir-sama began his story.
As a child, he had been a delinquent—a street urchin surviving by stealing whatever he could get his hands on.
To him, that was the only way to stay alive, for the world was cruel and merciless to the weak.
Then, one day—
He met a man.
And for the first time in his life, Fenrir felt the warmth of a gaze filled with kindness.
Despite being nothing more than a thieving street rat, this man treated him with compassion.
The man extended his hand toward the young Fenrir.
And from that moment on, Fenrir-sama life changed forever.
The man was a lord—a ruler who governed a great territory.
A man who maintained peace with both wisdom and unwavering kindness.
A sovereign beloved, respected, and revered by all his people.
This noble ruler took Fenrir in.
He taught him wisdom, knowledge, and the ways of the world.
He taught him patience, compassion—how strength and kindness could coexist.
He taught him everything he knew.
And in time, the former street urchin, Fenrir, became the ruler's devoted servant—his loyal guardian.
Ever by his side, Fenrir followed him wherever he went.
Protecting him.
Watching over him.
Guarding the benevolent lord who had once saved his life.
However, a tragedy occurred within that beautiful tale.
One day, the eyes of the Lord darkened. His heart had been tainted and corrupted by darkness—a darkness born from the seeds of hatred and anger buried deep within him.
And the darkness within the Lord's heart began to bring tragedy, sorrow, and death to his people.
Unable to bear witness to such devastation, the former street urchin—now a young man—made a decision. He resolved to save the heart of the Lord who had been tainted by darkness. With his own two hands, the young man named Fenrir thrust his blade into the heart of the Lord who had been swallowed by the abyss. His entire body trembled in pain and anguish as the Lord, the man who had raised him, collapsed onto him. Kneeling on the ground, Fenrir cradled the dying body of the Lord who had cared for him since childhood.
In his final moments, the Lord's blackened eyes slowly regained their clarity, returning to the bright white they once were.
"Forgive me, Fenrir, for burdening you with such unbearable sorrow. And thank you... for stopping me and saving me from the darkness that had consumed me."
Those were the last words of the Lord before he closed his eyes forever. Fenrir wept bitterly, his cries echoing through the land as he embraced the lifeless body of the man who had taken him in and raised him with love and warmth.
After that fateful event, burdened by grief, Fenrir withdrew from the world and chose to live in the dark forests of the Northern Continent.
And so, this is the end of Lord Fenrir's story—a tale of tragedy that unfolded in his life. I could see the sorrow, longing, and guilt reflected in his eyes. I didn't know what to say after hearing his tale, nor did I know how to comfort the grieving expression he wore.
But then, Fenrir-sama turned his gaze toward me and spoke:
"And what about you, Elena? What will you do if the man walking beside you now is eventually swallowed by darkness?"
It was a question Fenrir-sama posed to me after sharing his past.
After hearing his story, what choice would I make if Ryuji-san, too, were to lose himself in darkness, just like the Lord who raised Fenrir-sama? And how would I take responsibility for it?
Because, after all, I was the one who had summoned Ryuji-san to this world.
Therefore, every choice he makes and every path he walks from now on is entirely my responsibility.
***
"Hey, readers..."
"We're back to my POV. Just who exactly is this old man named Fenrir? And more importantly, what about Ryuji-san? Did he survive the wyvern attack in the Terradin Forest?
"The next chapter is titled 'I'll Save Him'.
"That elf woman, Aella, is sitting beside my bed with an expression I can't quite decipher. By the way... why is she even sitting there?"
—Elena Fearis