Kyūsei slowly opened his eyes.
A chill wind brushed across his skin.
He rose to his feet and looked around.
Towering trees surrounded him on every side, their trunks vast and ancient, stretching so high that their crowns vanished into the canopy above. Sunlight barely pierced through the dense layers of leaves, casting scattered rays upon the forest floor.
So… I truly was sent to another world.
He clicked his tongue.
That bastard truly wished for my suffering.
"Become the god of that world."
The words echoed within his mind.
What did it even mean to become a god?
Power? Authority? Immortality?
Or was it merely another cruel jest?
Kyūsei exhaled sharply.
"…No point dwelling on it now."
His first priority was simple.
Survive.
He began walking through the wilderness, stepping over roots and pushing past thick brush. Yet no matter how far he went, the forest seemed endless.
Minutes became hours.
His sense of direction gradually eroded.
As he considered how he might survive in such a place, a voice suddenly rang out above him.
"What are you doing here, boy?"
Kyūsei froze.
He looked upward.
A man sat casually upon a tree branch far above, so high that his figure was obscured by shadow and leaves.
Before Kyūsei could react, the man leapt down.
He fell nearly ninety meters.
Then landed lightly upon the ground.
Not a stumble.
Not a sound beyond the faint crunch of leaves.
As though such a feat were no more difficult than stepping off a curb.
Kyūsei's eyes narrowed.
So this was the standard of this world?
The man straightened himself and looked at him with mild annoyance.
"I asked you a question. What are you doing in this vast forest?"
Kyūsei thought quickly.
It would be unwise to speak of another world. He understood nothing of this land, its customs, or its dangers.
For now, ignorance was his shield.
"I'm lost," Kyūsei said. "I ran away from my family, but I don't know where to go now."
The man raised a brow.
"Why run from your family?"
"That is not something I can speak of," Kyūsei replied calmly. "But I can say this much—I did no wrong."
The man studied him for a moment.
Then shrugged.
"If that is the case, come with me. I'm headed for the capital. Company would make the road less tedious."
Kyūsei inclined his head.
"You have my thanks."
The man grinned.
"Good. Then it is settled. My name is Kazuto."
"Kyūsei."
"Very well, Kyūsei. Let us depart."
As they walked, Kyūsei asked, "Which direction are we heading?"
"North," Kazuto replied. "If my memory serves, five days from here we'll reach the Valthorin road. If fortune favors us, we may find a supply carriage willing to take passengers."
And so they traveled.
Several days passed.
Kyūsei's legs ached, his patience thinned, and the endless forest had become an enemy in itself.
"How much farther?" he asked.
"Not far," Kazuto replied. "We've arrived."
The trees parted.
Ahead lay a broad road of packed earth.
At that very moment, a carriage rolled into view.
Kazuto laughed.
"What luck. Hurry, or we'll miss it."
The two ran forward.
Kazuto moved with astonishing speed, covering the distance in moments. By the time Kyūsei caught up, breathing heavily, Kazuto was already speaking with the coachman.
Then—
"Hand over all your money, or we kill you!"
A gang of armed men emerged from both sides of the road, surrounding the carriage.
Kyūsei counted quickly.
At least fifty.
Kazuto sighed.
"What tiresome monkeys."
"Monkeys?" Kyūsei muttered.
"Stay here and watch."
Kazuto stepped forward and drew a pitch-black sword.
Purple aura coiled around the blade like living smoke.
He pointed it at the bandits.
"I shall grant you one chance. Leave now, and you may keep your lives."
The leader burst into laughter.
"You alone against fifty? It seems you seek death."
Kazuto smiled faintly.
"No."
He raised his sword.
"It is you who rush toward hell."
Then he vanished.
What followed was slaughter.
The bandits screamed.
Limbs flew.
Steel shattered.
Blood sprayed across the road like crimson rain.
Kazuto moved through them without pause, his expression utterly devoid of mercy. His sword carved through flesh and bone alike, each strike precise, efficient, absolute.
Within moments, the fifty bandits had become corpses.
The road was silent.
Kazuto stood amidst the dead, drenched in blood.
He glanced at his clothes with irritation.
"Tch. Now I'll need to wash."
The coachman trembled visibly.
"L-Let us depart at once, sir!"
Kazuto sheathed his blade and climbed into the carriage.
Kyūsei followed, though unease lingered in his eyes.
"…Was that not excessive?"
Kazuto looked at him.
"Excessive?"
"They sought to rob us," Kyūsei said. "You could have killed them swiftly. Why butcher them so brutally?"
Kazuto's expression turned cold.
"They preyed upon travelers. How many had they robbed before today? How many had they murdered?"
He leaned closer.
"Did they show mercy?"
Kyūsei remained silent.
Kazuto continued.
"Listen carefully, Kyūsei. If you spare vermin like that with mere warnings, they will return to the road tomorrow."
His gaze sharpened.
"And every innocent person they kill afterward… their blood will stain your hands."
Kyūsei's heart stirred.
This world was not his own.
Compassion here carried a price.
"…I understand," he said quietly.
Kazuto leaned back.
"Good."
As the carriage rolled onward, towering walls soon appeared in the distance.
The City of Valthorin.