"Why don't you worry about yourself?"
The scarred man's voice slid in close, rough and low, like gravel grinding beneath a boot.
Then came the blade.
Its cold spine brushed the back of my neck... slow, deliberate.
A chill crawled down my spine as the metal glided upward, settling beneath my chin. Sharp. Steady. The kind of stillness that made breathing feel dangerous.
I froze.
My breath snagged somewhere in my throat while my arms instinctively tightened around the wounded young man slumped against me. His body felt frighteningly warm compared to the blade pressed against my skin.
Still…
I made the mistake of glaring back.
Metal whispered softly.
The blade nudged my hood aside.
Snip.
Something feather-light brushed my cheek before drifting past my shoulder. Several strands of pinkish hair floated downward, swaying gently in the cold forest air.
The blade lingered beneath my throat.
Colder than death.
A thin line of sweat crawled down my temple despite the freezing air wrapping around us.
I forced my voice out carefully, terrified even swallowing might slit my neck open.
"B-Boss, why don't we just... talk this through? Maybe we can negotiate..."
"Negotiate?"
He repeated the word slowly, like he found it amusing. Like he was savoring how pathetic it sounded coming from me.
"Y-yes, yes..." The words stumbled out before my brain could stop them. "As you can see, I'm not a beggar—I'm a customer."
He stilled.
His gaze dropped toward the young man cradled in my arms before slowly lifting back to my face. Sharp eyes. Measuring eyes.
"Speak."
His voice was flat. Heavy. Like winter stone left beneath snow.
The pressure in my chest tightened.
"W-well, you see..."
My thoughts crashed into each other, scrambling for anything that might keep us alive another minute.
Then the young man suddenly groaned weakly against my chest.
Like sparks catching dry grass, an idea ignited inside my head.
I straightened slightly, forcing confidence into my voice.
"You see..." I cleared my throat. "I'm interested in this slave. I'd like to buy him."
Silence.
Only the distant rustling of leaves answered me.
The scarred man slowly looked me over, from my mud-soaked boots to the strands of sliced hair sticking against my damp cheek.
Then one brow lifted.
"I didn't know you swing that way."
My brain stopped. Completely.
'Wait....What?!'
Heat exploded across my face.
"No! N-not like that!" I blurted far louder than intended. My voice cracked midway, humiliatingly.
Panic immediately grabbed the wheel.
"As you can see, my clothes aren't exactly... aristocratic," I said quickly, gesturing awkwardly toward my mud-stained cloak. Damp soil flaked from the fabric as I moved. "But I do have money! A bag full of it!"
I cleared my throat again, desperately trying to sound important.
"I-I'm a servant of Duke Frallizer. Yes. And the young lady I serve wants a slave. One who's... younger and prettier than the others before the market opens."
The lies poured out faster than I could process them.
"My lady doesn't like them old or... unpleasant-looking."
My arms trembled beneath the young man's weight. Whether from exhaustion or embarrassment, I honestly couldn't tell anymore.
Still...
Looking down at him now, maybe the lie wasn't entirely ridiculous.
Even covered in dirt and half-conscious from pain, he looked...
Ridiculously beautiful.
Like a ruined painting dragged through mud.
That wild white hair looked soft despite the blood tangled between the strands, pale as fresh snow beneath moonlight. His pale skin remained almost unreal beneath the grime, smooth enough to make the bruises stand out even more. Even his eyebrows looked unfairly perfect.
And his eyes...
Those ocean-colored eyes looked deep enough to drown in, even barely open.
Yeah.
No denying it.
He was absurdly handsome.
'This lie might actually work.'
To my surprise, the scarred man's eyes widened slightly.
Only for a second.
A flicker of confusion crossed his scarred face before his voice dropped lower.
"You're a servant of Lady Frallizer...?"
"Yes! Yes, I am!" I grabbed onto the opening like a drowning man clutching driftwood. "And I'm here strictly for business."
For several seconds, he said nothing. The confusion vanished from his face so quickly it was almost unsettling. Coldness settled back into his eyes.
"You chose this one for the Lady?" he asked mockingly before letting out a short, dry laugh.
"You've got skill, I'll give you that. Sneaking past all of us... disguising yourself as some stuttering fool just to pick out a little plaything for your mistress."
I swallowed carefully. The blade beneath my chin still hadn't moved.
"I'm just a servant fulfilling my duties."
He tilted his head slightly, studying me the same way a butcher studies livestock before slaughter.
"A servant on an errand carrying a full purse..." he murmured.
His lips curled faintly. "Sounds appetizing."
Then he moved.
The dagger vanished into its sheath with a soft click. In the same motion, he drew another blade... longer, heavier, darker.
The sound of steel leaving its sheath scraped through the air.
The forest suddenly felt colder.
The sword rose, not toward me...but toward the young man.
I reacted instantly.
Twisting my body, I stumbled backward. The blade sliced through the space where his neck had been a second earlier. Wind from the swing brushed my face.
"Why do business," the scarred man said calmly, "when I could simply take your money?"
I steadied my breathing, though unease clawed violently at my insides.
"You saw it, didn't you?" I said carefully. "I pulled the money from my subspace. Nobody can access that kind of artifact except its owner."
I forced myself to meet his eyes. "Isn't that why I'm still alive?"
For a brief moment, his smirk disappeared. Then I saw it again.
That cursed purple dust leaking slowly from beneath his bandages, drifting into the cold air like poisoned smoke.
My stomach tightened.
With his speed and whatever horrifying ability that was...
There was nowhere to run.
Not while carrying someone.
Not with my body already screaming.
Every muscle burned. My arms felt torn apart beneath the young man's weight. My lungs stung with every breath of cold forest air.
I was already running on fumes.
"Five thousand gold," I blurted before fear could choke the words away. "That's my offer for the slave. Plus the bonus I already gave you."
I tightened my grip on the young man as dizziness threatened to creep in.
"That should keep your boss happy, shouldn't it? Maybe happy enough not to kill you for letting his slaves escape and wasting his precious time."
A twitch.
Tiny.
But I caught it.
Got him.
His voice lowered dangerously.
"You've come this far just to walk away? Make it ten thousand. Pay the price and keep your life."
'Typical mercenary.'
Greed practically dripped from his voice.
"Five thousand."
I held firm. My voice surprisingly didn't shake. That amount can already buy five mansions, and can even by ten horses on what's left.
"Take it or leave it. And if I die here, so do you. Every second matters to your boss, doesn't it?"
I let the next words fall carefully. "His clients aren't just nobles. Even the emperor is involved."
That made him pause. Not the threat. The name.
"The emperor?" His eyes narrowed sharply. "Who are you? How do you know that? Did the Duke—"
"Like I said," I interrupted smoothly, "I serve House Frallizer."
I pushed forward before suspicion could settle.
"And if this slave dies, you won't get a single coin. I can't exactly deliver ruined merchandise."
For a moment, only the wind answered us.
Then the scarred man laughed quietly and sheathed his sword.
"You're pretty witty for a servant," he admitted. "No wonder the Lady trusts you."
"I'm just doing my job."
A crooked smirk appeared on his scarred face. "Then we have a deal... dear customer."
"Yes."
Relief slowly leaked from my chest, though tension still clung stubbornly to my spine.
Honestly...
Never thought I could lie this smoothly under pressure.
'Maybe manipulation was my hidden talent all along.'
I glanced down at the young man again. His messy white hair kept falling over his pale face with every shaky breath he took.
I needed to move.
Fast.
Reaching into my inventory felt harder than fighting at this point. My arms had gone numb from carrying him, muscles twitching violently from strain.
Awkwardly, I fumbled one-handed through the interface until several heavy bags of gold dropped into existence with a metallic clink.
The sound rang unnaturally loud in the silent woods.
"Here," I muttered through clenched teeth. "Three thousand for now. I'll leave the rest near that tree."
I nodded toward a thick oak roughly twenty meters away.
"You're cautious," he remarked while taking the bag.
"Trust doesn't come cheap in this line of work."
He chuckled dryly.
"Heh. Fair enough. You're free to go."
As I turned away, I stole one last glance toward the captives behind him.
Bodies littered the forest floor like discarded dolls. Some curled into themselves weakly. Others didn't move at all. Blood soaked into the dirt. The metallic scent lingered thick in the cold air.
Something twisted painfully inside my chest. But I forced myself forward.
'Kaiser will save them.'
I had to believe that. Because I couldn't save everyone.
Not now.
I quickened my pace toward the tree, boots crunching against dead leaves and damp twigs.
"It was a pleasure doing business with you," I called back while pulling out the remaining gold.
I tossed the bag near the tree before immediately sprinting the opposite direction.
The young man jolted violently in my arms from the sudden movement, coughing weakly against my shoulder.
"Hang in there," I muttered between breaths.
His HP kept dropping steadily.
I needed medicine.
A Village Healer. High Rank Potions.
Anything.
But my body was nearing its limit.
The Cloak of Narda still boosted my stamina and HP, while the potions enhanced my strength and agility temporarily—but the effects were fading fast.
Fifteen minutes at most.
My muscles already burned like they were tearing apart from the inside.
Barely conscious, the young man whispered weakly, "...J-just leave me..."
I almost tripped out of pure frustration. After everything I'd done to save him, he wanted me to abandon him?
"Tch. If I could, I would. So save your breath. I need you alive."
But before I could take another step—
"Who said you could run away?" The mocking voice cut through the forest behind me.
I looked back.
The scarred man was chasing after us, twisted excitement shining in his eyes.
Just like I feared.
That greedy bastard probably took the gold for himself and knocked out his own men to erase witnesses.
And now he wanted even more.
"I'm not your personal piggy bank!" I shouted while tightening my grip on the boy.
The scarred man only grinned wider.
Then—
Something changed.
The air suddenly turned heavy. Cold. Like the entire forest had stopped breathing.
The scarred man froze mid-step. His expression twisted.
Fear.
Real fear.
The legs that chased me moments ago locked in place as though his body sensed something before his mind could understand it.
Then instinct screamed inside me. Something was coming.
Fast.
A violent gust tore through the trees ahead, carrying the overwhelming metallic stench of blood. Not just human blood.
Something far worse.
The woods fell silent. Even the flamebees, the glowing insects constantly buzzing around the forest, had vanished.
Fled.
The light dimmed beneath the trees. The wind grew colder. Sharper.
And then... I saw him.
A blur moving between the trees. Silent. Terrifying.
He emerged slowly from the darkness of the forest, reducing his speed with deliberate control, like a storm already certain of its destination.
His eyes resembled dark storm clouds beneath the dim light.
Unreadable.
His sword dragged across the ground behind him. Sparks hissed against stone with every step.
My heartbeat nearly stopped.
"...Kaiser..."
[ Warning! Warning! ]
[Warning! The Author is not allowed to meet the protagonist. ]
[ Quest: Locat[] and S[]ve the In[]ocent On[] ]
Time Duration: 7 days and 1 minute
Location: Annonno-o's Forest
Condition: The Author must succeed without interfering with Kaiser's destiny.
Rewards:
10 RP points
Eye of Tharm (skill)
The Map of Yoodok (skill)
Failure: Death