Ichio's boots crunched softly against the dirt path as he walked westward, his eyes still fixed on the glowing status board hovering before him. He scrolled through his Artem-Abilities, scrutinizing each one. Most of them were familiar now, except for one at the bottom of the list. Unlike the others, it had no name—just an empty placeholder with a single line of text beneath it: "Conditions not met."
He frowned. "And this last Artem… It's not showing anything. What does it mean by 'conditions not met'?" He muttered under his breath.
"Do I need to complete some kind of requirement to unlock it?"
As he mused, his attention snapped to a sudden, desperate cry cutting through the still air. "Help! Somebody! I'm about to be killed! Please! Can anyone hear me?!"
The voice, trembling with panic, was unmistakably that of a woman. Ichio paused briefly but quickly shook his head and continued walking.
"Not my problem," he muttered coldly. "I'm not some hero who goes around saving random people. Let someone else play the knight in shining armor."
The cry for help echoed again, but Ichio ignored it, his face set in a mask of indifference.
That was when Nyx's voice reached him telepathically. "Master, that human screaming for help… I think you should assist them."
Ichio's expression darkened. "Why should I? How is it my problem? Why should I get involved in other people's issues? Trusting other humans is the worst thing anyone can do."
Nyx's tone was calm but firm. "Master, the soul of that human smells like you."
Ichio stopped dead in his tracks, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What?" he asked. "What do you mean, 'smells like me'? And how can you even smell someone's soul?"
Nyx's response was matter-of-fact. "When I evolved, my senses became more refined. Now, I can smell far more than just physical scents. Souls, emotions, intentions—they all leave a trace."
Ichio grimaced, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. "That's… creepy," he muttered. "But what do you mean by that person's soul 'smells like me'?"
Nyx hesitated briefly before answering. "It doesn't smell exactly like you, Master. But it carries a similar essence—like someone you're connected to. I believe this person might be important."
Ichio's expression hardened, a bitter edge in his voice. "I don't have anyone important to me. The only people I thought mattered showed me just how insignificant I really was."
Nyx's voice was quiet yet insistent. "Even so, Master, I can tell this person's heart is crying out for you. Even as they face death, their soul seems to resonate with yours. Please, just check. If they're of no importance, you can leave. But I think this is worth investigating."
Ichio sighed. "Seriously… Why would their heart 'smell like it needs me'? Fine, whatever."
Reluctantly, he turned and began moving toward the source of the cry. As he approached, the scene unfolded before him. A young girl lay sprawled on the ground, surrounded by three goblins.
But these weren't ordinary goblins. Their green skin was unremarkable, but their appearance wasn't the crude, filthy image he was used to. These goblins wore clean outfits, their armor resembling casual clothing. They carried sharp weapons, and their youthful faces bore an unsettling sharpness. Adding to their unique appearance were long, thin horns protruding from their heads, giving them an almost regal air despite their goblin origins.
Ichio stopped a few paces away, his eyes narrowing. "These aren't normal goblins," he muttered. "They look like… young punks. What the hell is going on here?"
His gaze shifted to the girl on the ground, and his breath hitched in surprise. It was Misaki Takeda.
A rush of conflicting emotions surged through him. For a moment, he considered walking away entirely. "Seriously… I'm definitely not saving her," he muttered under his breath. "She's someone I should hate.
Even if she didn't do anything to me directly, someone connected to her caused me more pain than I can ever forget."
As he turned to leave, Misaki's eyes landed on him. Her face lit up with a desperate mix of recognition and hope.
"Hey, you over there!" she cried, her voice trembling but forceful. "Please, help me!"
Ichio didn't look back, his steps unhurried as he walked away. Misaki's voice trembled with desperation as she called out again.
"Ichio… is that you?"
He froze, his eyes narrowing in confusion. The distance between them was enough that there should have been no way for her to recognize him. He turned his head slightly, his gaze sharp, as he thought, "How could she possibly know it's me?"
Before he could process further, Nyx's voice echoed telepathically.
"Master, I think she has figured you out. Are you still going to walk away?"
Ichio's lips curled into a scowl. "Shut up, Nyx."
Nyx chuckled lightly. "Perhaps this is what you humans call love. Since she was thinking of you, she wanted to believe it was you from the start."
Ichio clenched his jaw, muttering, "Shut up."
In an instant, Ichio disappeared from his spot, reappearing in the shadows of one of the goblins surrounding Misaki. His presence was sudden, and the goblins, though armed and alert, failed to sense him. He raised his hand, his voice low and commanding.
"Arbeul Dal Garm: Black Hole."
A miniature black hole materialized in the air above the goblins, its gravitational pull immediate and merciless. The goblins screamed, their bodies pulled violently into its inky depths. Yet, the black hole obeyed Ichio's will, sparing Misaki and the surrounding environment.
Ichio had imposed a rule: absorb only those he perceived as enemies.
When the last goblin vanished, the black hole dissipated, leaving nothing behind. Without a word or a glance at Misaki, Ichio turned and resumed his path toward the Ainslif.
[Ok, Seriously are you telling they just stood there?]
Misaki scrambled to her feet, her face pale but determined. She began following him, her steps quickening to keep up.
Nyx spoke again. "Master, she's following you."
Ichio sighed in irritation. "I know that."
He stopped abruptly, turning to face her, his expression cold. "Why are you following me?"
Misaki hesitated but then met his gaze. "I can't just let you go off on your own. You helped me—shouldn't I help you in return?"
Ichio's eyes narrowed, his voice cutting. "I don't need your help. I don't need anyone tagging along. I can handle myself."
Misaki faltered at his words, her expression softening into sadness. "So… they did it, didn't they?"
Ichio blinked, taken aback. "What do you mean?"
Misaki lowered her gaze briefly before speaking. "I always knew my brother didn't like you. He always complained about you—how you were a nuisance, or whatever else he could come up with.
That's why I always talked to you at school. I wanted you to know that not everyone in my family is like him. Even though my brother was mean, I wanted to assure you that he still had some good in him.
But now I guess you think otherwise."
Her voice grew quieter, tinged with regret. "This morning, I overheard him talking with one of the others. He said something strange—something about a dream he had. He said that if what he dreamt about actually came true, then they would finally have a way to get rid of you."
Ichio's brows furrowed, his steps slowing as her words sank in.
Misaki continued, her tone heavy. "I thought it was just one of his usual jokes, you know? But seeing you now, with those dead eyes, I think… maybe it wasn't a joke. Maybe he really did figure out some way to cast you off. And if his dream really is coming true, then maybe they've done something even worse than I thought."
Ichio's face tightened as he turned away, his fists clenching at his sides.
Misaki took a step forward. "Don't worry. The next time I see that foolish brother of mine, I'll teach him what it means to hurt good friends. I might be his big sister, but that doesn't mean I'll let him get away with everything. Being a sister doesn't just mean protecting your siblings from others—it means protecting others from your siblings when they're in the wrong. I've always felt responsible for his actions, and this time, I won't let it slide."
Her tone grew firmer. "You might think you don't need anyone, Ichio, but even the strongest people need someone to remind them they're not alone. And I can't just let you go off like this. Whether you like it or not, I'm coming with you."
Ichio's steps faltered for a moment before continuing, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Great. Just what I need—another person to slow me down."
Misaki ignored the remark and continued. "You might not believe me, but I used to play this game too. And I wasn't just any player—I was part of one of the strongest parties this game has ever seen. Maybe the strongest."
That caught Ichio's attention. He stopped in his tracks, turning to face her. "What are you bubbling about?"
Misaki smiled faintly, her eyes meeting his with a determined spark. She placed her right hand over her chest in a salute.
"Warrior Maiden of Infinite Ego, Livia Invicta. But you can call me Livia."
Ichio, his voice calm but laced with sarcasm. "So, this is how it's going to be? Isn't this ironic, Liva?"
Livia's eyes widened in shock. "Wait… there's only one person who called me by that name. But your personality… and his… they're so different."
Ichio smirked slightly, tilting his head. "Well, he was just a way for me to relieve my stress."
Before he could finish, Livia dashed forward and wrapped her arms around him from behind. Her voice quivered with emotion. "The first time I saw you at school, I just got this feeling… like you were him. But I didn't know how to explain it. That's why I never brought it up to you as Ichio. And whenever I wanted to talk about it with him, he just shrugged it off like it didn't matter."
Ichio paused for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Well, that's how the world is." He said this casually, as though brushing aside her words, then resumed walking without another glance at her.
Livia hesitated but quickly followed him as they approached the Ainslif.
CHAPTER END.