At that moment, instead of falling as a lifeless corpse, Espen surged to his feet with a speed that defied the laws of nature. He didn't feel pain so much as a cold, poisonous "aura" radiating from nearby—the aura of the person who had just loosed the arrow. He gripped the shaft embedded in his chest and, with one sickening, incredible motion, ripped it out and tossed it aside. He watched as his wound knitted itself shut in mere seconds.
Suddenly, a strange energy surged through him, an instinctive primal call urging him to do something beyond human logic. He didn't hesitate; his body merged with the shadows, dissolving into a thick black mist. He shot like a dark bolt through the window, streaking through the air toward the source of the aura on a nearby rooftop.
Espen materialized out of thin air, standing directly behind the assassin with absolute coolness, while the latter was still peerng through his scope to confirm the kill. Espen cleared his throat and said in a tone dripping with sarcasm:
"Hey you! Looking for a missing victim, or did you just get the wrong address?"
The assassin jumped in terror, stumbling back as he trembled, words catching in his throat:
"How.. how did you find me?! And how did you get here so fast? I never even felt your presence..!"
Espen shrugged, glancing at his hands as the wisps of darkness faded from them. He directed his mockery at both himself and the killer:
"I swear to you, I haven't the slightest clue! I'm in shock myself! I just felt a black aura, decided to merge with it, and here I am. It seems the 'author of this story' is insistent that we meet quickly; he clearly doesn't want to waste time on boring chase scenes!"
The assassin regained his composure for a heartbeat, drawing a long, sharp sword and shouting stiffly:
"You won't get a single word out of me! I won't talk even if you take my head!"
The assassin lunged like a madman, aiming a crushing blow at Espen's hand, intending to sever it. But instead of a bloody spray, something impossible happened—Clang! The sword recoiled violently as if it had struck a mountain of solid granite. The impact rattled the assassin's arm so hard he nearly dropped his weapon.
The assassin's eyes widened in a shock that paralyzed his very soul:
"What?! How is your body like this?! I was told for a certainty that you would die from a single stab.. you aren't human!"
Espen laughed with bitter irony, inspecting his unblemished hand:
"I swear, the feeling is mutual! A few minutes ago, I was being squeezed and mashed like dough, and now swords are bouncing off my skin! I didn't react for two simple reasons: First, anyone who survived my giant father's 'massage' isn't going to fear your little steak knife. And second, since I am the 'Hero' of this damn story, it makes zero sense for me to die in Chapter One! The drama is only just beginning, my friend."
The assassin growled in despair:
"You'll gain nothing.. you'll never know who sent me!"
The killer tried to spin around to flee, intending to leap from the building, but he tripped over the hem of his own cloak so pathetically that he went into a freefall. He hit the ground hard on his stomach. By a stroke of bad luck—or perhaps the sheer force of the plot—he bit down on his tongue so hard it was severed completely!
Espen peered over the edge of the roof, watching the scene with a look of weary boredom:
"My guy.. really? Dear fairy tale, let's at least try! Give me some room for an investigation or a heroic deed! The assassin accidentally suicides before leaking a single bit of info? What a hackneyed script!"
Espen decided to follow him down, jumping from the roof under the assumption that his "supernatural" body would handle it. He hit the ground hard, but this time, his nerves screamed in agony. He stood up staggering, clutching his legs and moaning in genuine pain:
"Agh! Ow! That hurts! It hurts so much! To hell with this world! I thought leaping from heights was easy like in the anime! The idea of living here is much harder than I imagined.. damn realism for showing up at the wrong time!"
He stared at the assassin's corpse lying on the ground with cold indifference; it had ended with disappointing speed. With a quick, practiced motion, he dug a hole in the earth, tossed the body in, and buried it, smoothing the ground so perfectly that all evidence of the crime vanished.
He brushed the dust of battle from his hands, crossed his arms, and said mockingly:
"A pathetic death for a hired gun! What an insignificant side character; you show up to give me a false sense of danger and then just leave! I truly don't understand why you were in this plot! Anyway, you should thank me; if it weren't for me, the author would have left you as a nameless corpse without a grave."
Turning back toward his room, Espen ran into Melda, who was watching him with a piercing, suspicious gaze. She asked sharply:
"Master Espen! What are you doing out here at this hour? Aren't you supposed to be in your suite upstairs?"
Espen replied as he continued walking with total nonchalance:
"Don't worry about it, Melda. I was just finishing a necessary scene for the story."
He left her standing there, following him with a confused stare. She whispered to herself in awe:
"Story? What story is he talking about? It seems the blow didn't just take his memory, but his sanity as well. This is not the Espen I know.. at all."
Espen climbed the stairs and entered his room, thinking of tomorrow:
"And now, time for sleep; for surely, a boring school day awaits me tomorrow."
In the early morning, with the first rays of sun, Espen woke up with a vitality his body had never known. He went straight to the bathroom, took a refreshing shower to wash away the toil of the previous night, and brushed his teeth with a strangely designed brush he found on the sink.
He dressed meticulously, finding an elegant school uniform that resembled the elite academy outfits from his old world. It looked remarkably clean and well-pressed.
After a few minutes, the door burst open and Melda entered, shouting in her usual booming voice:
"Master Espen! Wake up! Morning is here and I've brought you.."
The words died in her throat. Melda froze, her eyes widening in shock as she saw him standing there, fully dressed, perfectly groomed, with a pleasant scent filling the room! He wasn't sprawled out in his usual mess. She asked in a quiet, stunned tone:
"Master Espen.. since when do you wake up before I arrive? And how did you get ready so quickly and so perfectly?"
Espen replied simply while adjusting his shirt:
"Miss Melda, I've been used to this routine for a long time. It's nothing new to me."
Melda's jaw dropped in disbelief. She stared at him as if he were an alien:
"Used to it? Are you sure your head is alright? I feel like your brain has been replaced with that of a fully mature adult! For the first time, I'm asking you seriously: Who are you really?"
Espen stopped moving. For the first time, the sarcasm vanished from his face, replaced by a deep, calm gaze. He said:
"I am a person whom life has taught the meaning of effort, and whom experience has refined to know the value of pursuing something that doesn't exist in a trivial, routine life.. a life where we see nothing but foolish faces and unfaithful people in a world overflowing with ugliness."
Melda gave him a look that mixed confusion with suspicion, as if trying to decode this new entity inhabiting "Espen's" body. She let out a sigh and said, trying to regain her professional tone:
"I don't understand why you're talking like a philosopher who lived through wars, but regardless, Master Espen, please have your breakfast to prepare for school as usual. And just for your information... your morning bath was part of the duties I perform for you daily."
Espen froze in place, his eyes widening in genuine shock:
"Wait a minute! What did you say? Your bath? Am I supposed to understand that... you are the one who bathes me?"
Melda turned toward the door, a mischievous look appearing on her face, a glint of malice he hadn't seen before. She said coldly as she left the room:
"Of course! It seems your lost memory has hidden the delightful truth; I am the one who bathes you every morning before school. We are in the bathroom together, you completely naked before me... and I, too, am completely naked before you as I perform my duty."
Espen remained stiff, paralyzed by shock. He whispered to himself in a panicked, confused voice:
"Oh, hell! Really? Thank the heavens I showered before she arrived, or I would have been in a position I wouldn't envy! How did this idiot 'Espen' land an assistant this stunning, who bathes him daily while undressed? I don't know whether to call him lucky or a pervert! I fear the 'censors' might interfere in this part of the story!"
After rushing through breakfast, Espen went downstairs where Melda was waiting. He stood before her with a forced dignity and asked:
"Alright, Melda, since I am 'amnesiac' as you know... where exactly is this school located?"
Melda replied as she adjusted her coat:
"Of course, I should have expected that question. Very well, I will escort you myself today until you memorize the path and get used to it again."
Espen replied in a polite tone she wasn't accustomed to:
"I would be very grateful to you, Miss Melda."
Melda paused for a second, whispering to herself as she watched him out of the corner of her eye:
"He's thanking me! Since when do you know the word 'thank you'? Truly... I feel like I'm dealing with a completely foreign soul. This is not the Espen I grew up scolding."
They walked through the beautiful streets of the kingdom until they reached the great walls of the school. Melda left Espen at the gate and departed. He entered the campus, dazzled by the architectural grandeur and the sophistication of the place. He looked around, lost amidst the crowds of students, having no idea where to go. But suddenly... he felt his legs moving on their own.
He turned right, then left, climbed the stairs, and bypassed corridors with a strange confidence until he found himself standing before his classroom door. He thought to himself in wonder:
"It seems this body has a memory of its own that knows the way, or maybe it's related to that 'black aura' I felt yesterday... the dark energy I'm using might be more connected to my instincts than I realized."
Espen entered the hall and sat in his seat quietly. In moments, the tiered seating filled with a flood of students. The hall transformed into a grand scene reminiscent of legendary films—a world carrying a heavy weight of awe, where the sounds of suspicious whispers blended with the rhythmic thud of footsteps and the turning of ancient pages, creating an atmosphere that pressed upon the chest and signaled that what he would learn here... was no ordinary lesson.