1. Three Years Before the Prologue

Near a certain desolate fishing village of the countryside, a girl rushed across the forest. Her breathing was ragged, and her clothes were in tatters. She frequently turned to look behind her, her legs racing atop the slippery, wet ground, until she tripped over her feet and fell with a crash.

“Ugh...” the girl groaned, caked in mud and dirt.

As she expected, the sound of many footsteps soon caught up to her. Several men donning pristine suits of armor stood before her, their plainly expensive gear signaling that they weren’t bandits or hoodlums.

“Tsk, she’s covered in mud,” one of the men grumbled. “I thought I’d have some fun with her, but this blows.”

“You’re not gonna do her, man?” another asked. “I don’t mind if things get a little dirty.”

The men laughed as they continued their vulgar conversation. The girl tried to use this opportunity to jump to her feet and flee, but a bald man came from behind, pressing her down from above.

“Ow...” the girl grunted, twisting her face with pain.

The bald man heartlessly trussed her arms and legs with some rope and shoved a bit into her mouth.

“C’mon, boys,” the man said wearily. “Stop yapping and tie her up. She almost tried to run.”

“Whoops, my bad,” another man replied. “But the chase is half the fun. Y’know, like fox hunting. The fat cats love stuff like that.”

“Yeah, I get you,” another agreed. “A young woman with no chance of escape pathetically trying her luck anyway, running around in confusion? What a thrill.”

One of the men flashed a lecherous grin as he reached out to touch the restrained girl. She screamed in panic, but the bald man quickly stopped his friend.

“Not here,” the bald man warned, scolding his impatient, lustful comrade. “You don’t wanna deal with the sailors when they return, do you? Don’t forget that you guys screwed up because of them last time.”

He carried the girl and headed for the carriage that was stationed nearby. The girl flailed her legs in a desperate attempt to resist, but her captor was completely unfazed.

“If you’re gonna blame anyone, blame your parents for not paying what they owed,” he spat. He placed the girl in the rear seat and sighed. “Jeez... If your family had just paid their taxes, we wouldn’t have needed to act like lowly bandits. Can’t deny that some of them enjoy it, though.”

The bald man aired his complaints before he started to carriage. As the vehicle rumbled along, the bit in the girl’s mouth became loose. With tears in her eyes, she could only beg for help.

“Fol...” she murmured.

Was that the name of a friend? But of course, this friend wasn’t around to hear her desperate call.

✶✶✶

I dreamed of a very, very long tale. It all started with a commoner boy entering the Magical Academy. The Academy had its roots in noble society, and the boy was relentlessly mocked and underestimated for his birth. Still, slowly but surely, he gained power and shocked those around him; it was a common underdog success story. The main character gradually gained friends whom he could trust and was surrounded by lots of charming heroines while he accomplished many impressive feats.

One day, the Demon Lord was suddenly freed from his ancient seal. He used monsters as his pawns to invade and destroy humanity, and the humans fought back with their armies and magical soldiers. Ultimately, the world even had to rely on the students of the Magic Academy, including the main character and his eccentric friends.

Following various twists and turns, the main character and his allies managed to push the horde of monsters back, and ultimately defeated the Demon Lord who had commanded them. After that, humanity was blessed with peace, and everyone lived happily ever after. This would end the first arc of the story.

The hero continued on to have more adventures, until finally defeating the God of Darkness, the root of all evil. Only then did the world finally attain true peace.

There were five long arcs in total including the final arc. The commoner main character saved the world. He married the princess, one of the heroines, and drew the story to a close by becoming king. It was a heartwarming tale filled with smiles and tears...from a commoner’s point of view.

✶✶✶

“That was the dream I had last night,” I said to my butler, Carlos.

The morning sunbeam trickled through the window and shone onto my cup of black coffee. The elderly Carlos stood diagonally in front of me as I remained seated and enjoyed my drink. He took out his pocket watch and took a glance before slumping his shoulders ever so slightly.

“You spent half an hour discussing this dream, my lord,” Carlos said. “It really must’ve left a lasting impression on you. A rags-to-riches story—or commoner-to-royalty, rather—is one that has mass appeal. Perhaps you should consider writing a book.”

“Carlos, I wouldn’t speak at length if it were any normal dream,” I replied. “The issue is that in this story, I—Lofus Ray Lightless, heir to the house of a marquess—made an appearance.”

“Oh? Are you saying that you were a character in this rags-to-riches tale? May I ask what role you played?”

“Don’t make it sound like some sort of play. But anyway, in this so-called tale, I appeared in the first arc where the main character is at the academy. I mocked him relentlessly for his commoner ways, and I was among the five that bullied him. Furthermore, I even had little goons that followed me around. It was a very, dare I say, plain role.”

“My, oh my...”

“But that’s only the beginning. In the second arc, it’s revealed that I’m a part of the Elite Four who serve the second Demon Lord. I stand before the main character as ‘Lofus the Shadow Wolf.’ I unleash my dark magic to lay waste on those before me, but I am easily crushed by the main character and die in one strike.”

“Pfft...”

“What’re you laughing at?”

I glared at Carlos, who burst into a fit of laughter. My butler quickly cleared his throat to mask his amusement.

“What happened then?” he asked.

“Nothing happened,” I snapped. “Why do I, the future heir of the marquess, have to die in the beginning of the second arc? I’m not even a particularly significant enemy. This is an outrage.”

“There’s nothing I can do about that... But it’s no wonder that you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“Not only did I die, but my murderer went on to become a king. I was forced to dream it all, with no end in sight. Can you blame me for my annoyance? Oh, and Carlos, you die too. During the second arc with the battle against the Elite Four, you appear as my dark servant and are killed by the main character’s eccentric friends before my final fight even begins.”

“I suppose I would be a mid-tier boss at best. But to think they’d show no mercy even to an old man... That’s rather heartless.”

“Hmph, it’s just a dream.”

It was a silly nightmare, nothing more. I ended this piffling drivel and went about my day as usual. But a mere commoner pushing the nobles aside to become king? I thought. Simply awful.

Unfortunately for me, the nightmares didn’t end. That evening, I saw a continuation of my dream from the night prior; this time, I wasn’t viewing events through the lens of the main character, but myself. A member of the Elite Four, I was surrounded by the main character’s forces, and was tortured to death again and again and again. I fought back with my dark magic, but my enemies wielded weapons of fire and light—my two weaknesses—and mercilessly clobbered me.

I was forced to relive my death over and over again, and the lines between dream and reality began to blur. Am I really dreaming? Why can’t I wake up? I’m getting killed countless times with no remedy to my situation. As my suffering and agony gripped my body and I prepared myself for death, time rewound back to the moment when I had been cornered, only so that I could be killed again while they cursed my very existence.

They called me a traitor to humanity, a devil who shackled and tormented the people as I imposed heavy taxes upon them, a man with a petrifying gaze, a pessimist, a man with a lame robe. There was just no end to the creative insults hurled my way. That first one made sense, but the others sort of felt out of left field. I was killed in the story’s second arc, where both the main character and I were upperclassmen within the academy. At this point in time, I had nothing to do with managing the land. I was still a kid.

And so, it struck me as odd that I’d be called a devil who tormented the people with heavy taxation. I couldn’t deny my connection to anything regarding the Lightless fief, but I was by no means directly involved in the governing of the land. Why in the world was I called a devil? Did being a member of House Lightless and the Elite Four mean shouldering the blame for all my peers’ actions?

And the rest of those insults just sound like slander.

I felt like the main character’s side wasn’t really justified in their actions, but maybe I only felt that way because I was being killed by them. For some inexplicable reason, perhaps by the cruel whimsy of God, I felt the pain of whatever I experienced in my dream. Fire magic hurt me a great deal and burned me, and furthermore, the main character’s forces would attack me in a different way each time.

On the other hand, I was only allowed to move in one direction, as though my movements were predetermined. Yet, the main character and his forces had a vast repertoire of actions they could take. I had to call foul play on that; it was cheating, plain and simple. I could accept being vastly outnumbered, so long as I could fight as I liked, but I had this mysterious turn-based combat rule foisted upon me.

Also, there was this blonde sailor woman among the main character’s forces who insulted, mocked, and relentlessly attacked me as she used a water spirit as her minion. I don’t know what I did to deserve your hatred, but I’ll never forget your face, wench!

As I experienced my own death tens of thousands of times, eventually losing touch with my very existence...I woke up. My own bed felt like a long-lost friend as the pleasant chirping of birds trickled in through the window.

“N... Ngh...” I croaked.

I cried. I threw away any ounce of pride I had as a noble and broke into a sobbing fit. I was almost twelve, but I wailed like a little child.

I’m finally awake. No one will kill me.

“Lord Lofus, whatever is the matter?!” Carlos cried.

He rushed into my room, his face pale at seeing me in tears. He knew that this was no simple matter. Usually, I’d yell at him if he entered my room without my permission, but I decided to make an exception this time. I flew into his arms and cried my heart out. He must’ve been smoking a puff earlier, as the scent of cigarettes stuck to his clothes, but that didn’t matter.

For the next hour, I let my tears stream down my cheeks, and finally, I was able to calm myself down. I blew my nose into Carlos’s suit and quietly stepped away.

“Carlos, you reek of cigarettes,” I complained. “You’re in the middle of work.”

“Yes, indeed,” Carlos said. “Just five minutes ago, my shift had started.”

He took out his pocket watch and showed it to me. A little past five in the morning. I realized that I’d been crying since the early hours of the morning, before Carlos’s shift had even begun.

“So you noticed your master’s predicament and came in here even before you were on the clock?” I asked. “Your loyalty is admirable.”

“What in the world happened, my lord?” he asked. “Your panache is one of your few good points, but I’ve never seen you so distraught and in shambles. The other staff of the manor are quite shocked as well.”

He glanced at the door. I saw several maids standing outside, worriedly peering in. Were they here the whole time? Were they just watching me cry?

“What are you dawdling for?!” I roared. “Get back to work!”

The maids hastily scurried away, and I was left wondering if my sobs had echoed throughout this manor. Thank goodness father and mother are in separate houses.

“My lord...” Carlos muttered.

“Hmph, I just had a rather vivid nightmare, that’s all,” I huffed.

I tried my best to put on a tough front, but I knew that my eyes were nervously darting around. And that really was a lifelike dream. I can’t just look back and laugh about it. It was so brutal and traumatic that I just couldn’t shrug it off as a dream.

I’d had my body torn to shreds and my name dragged through the mud for what had felt like thousands upon thousands of hours. Ugh, the mere memory brings tears to my eyes again...

Carlos, perhaps noticing the tears in my eyes, swiftly took out a letter.

“We should go for a change of pace,” he said. “Why don’t you take a look at this letter, my lord?”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“An invitation to a party.”

“A party? From which household?”

Hm... Well, it doesn’t sound too bad. And having some fun might help me change my mood. Still, it was vital to know who the host was; if I joined a party of a low-ranking noble, it would affect the dignity of my household. At the very least, the host had to be a count, though the higher the better. I tried to gauge the invitee’s rank.

“This invitation is from the house of a duke!” Carlos replied confidently.

“Oh? A duke, you say?” I asked.

Splendid! I have high hopes for this!

“This invitation is from the house of Duke Galleon!” Carlos added.

“Wonderful!” I cried, but then faltered. “Duke...Galleon?”

House Galleon dominated the western region of our nation and was one of the most prominent nobles of the kingdom. But in my nightmare, where I was killed over and over again... If memory serves, in the first arc, the leader of the bullies was a cruel man who had unmatched ambition and charisma. I think his name was...Raymond Rois Nodens Galleon, the eldest son of Duke Galleon. And he’s invited me to a—

“Blurgh...” I gagged.

“My lord?!” Carlos cried.

I vomited all over the floor.

The story in my dream started when the main character entered the academy. Since his first day there, he was mocked relentlessly by Raymond and was called a peon. Raymond took his four friends along to mock the main character, and I think I was among that bullying group. If Raymond had already had his group then, it means that I might’ve known him before the main character entered the academy.

So this invitation... Could this party kick off my relationship with Raymond? If the duke is the host of the party, it’s not hard to imagine that it’ll be quite the large affair. House Galleon and House Lightless aren’t exactly close. And yet, if I received an invitation, it means that House Galleon probably invited many people, including his followers and myself, a future member of the Elite Four. Will my nightmare become a reality? Will I be mercilessly tortured and killed?

No! No no no! I knew that couldn’t happen. As the future heir of House Lightless, I wasn’t allowed to suffer such a grisly, pathetic death. It was the one fate that I was intent on avoiding. What if my dream is a prediction? What if it will all become reality? If so, then I was determined to use every fiber of my being to bend fate with my very hands. I could never allow that infuriating main character, who killed me countless times, to become king. As tears continued to stream down my cheeks, I made that solemn oath.

✶✶✶

The party hosted by House Galleon was scheduled for three months from now. I ought to do what I can until then, I thought. My first question was why I was killed in that story. Did I become an enemy of humanity who threatened everyone’s lives? Was it because I became the Elite Four who served Raymond, the second Demon Lord?

While all of these were indeed factors that led to my death, they didn’t hit the crux of the problem. At its core, the main character and his faction hated me. In the first arc, I mocked the main character for being a commoner and bullied him, and I could prove that his anger was personal. Though the Elite Four was effectively crushed, not everyone died; one was spared. He was the strongest of the Elite Four, and the last one to join the battle: Warm, the Dragon Rider. He was a dragon knight who soared through the skies on his trusty beast, and even within the story, his spear mastery was unrivaled.

He was frightfully talented with the spear, and Raymond had provided him with his beloved dragon, Flugel. This beast allowed Warm to cut through the air at supersonic speed, and his powerful lightning magic put him at the top of the Elite Four. While the rest of us became Raymond’s underlings due to our noble birth and abilities, Warm was the sole exception to this rule.

He was the only one who had no rank. The son of a knight on the frontier, his family had been knights for generations and served the nobles of the kingdom. He was by no means a commoner, but there was a wide and deep gap between him and nobles like us. Yet a mere knight like him was granted a place at Raymond’s side because of his overwhelming power. Warm didn’t have any noble bloodline; he was the only one who was accepted into our group because of his raw power and might alone.

Precisely because of his seemingly low social rank, within the first arc of my dream, Warm was the only one who was rather passive when Raymond and his followers bullied the main character for being a commoner. Not once did he instigate any bullying of his own accord, and he only got involved under Raymond’s orders. In fact, Warm seemed to admire the main character for being so strong despite his social status. Warm’s combat prowess was terrifying to say the least, and during the Elite Four’s battle against the main character’s forces, Warm flew in of his own accord and single-handedly decimated his foes. If memory served, he only admitted defeat when his beloved dragon was shot down.

Following this loss, Raymond, the second Demon Lord, was swiftly bested by the main character’s forces, and Warm committed suicide—a sorrowful end to his life. But of course, nothing is more tragic than my own end. I was killed tens of thousands of times. In a nutshell, the main character and his troops were willing to let enemies escape, so long as there was no blatant animosity between them. It was a rather naive way of thinking. But that means, even if I attend this party and become Raymond’s underling, as long as I don’t bully the main character in the first arc, my life might be spared. Wait, maybe that won’t be enough. In my dream, I was unreasonably blamed for heavy taxation. Even if I don’t bully the main character, the tax issue might be used against me, and I could be killed for that.

It struck me as a false accusation, but I wasn’t confident that the main character would think that far. He seems willing to kill anyone he deems a bad guy. If I leave so much as a bad impression, I’ll probably be on the chopping block. The truth didn’t seem all that important to them.

In other words, before the second arc of the story, I had to do something about our land’s taxes. But how could I, a mere child, butt into the affairs of governing the land? If I don’t tread carefully, I’ll only anger my father. Good grief, what a headache...

“So, Carlos, I want you to look into any place within our land that appears to suffer from heavy taxation,” I ordered.

“That’s...quite a sudden request,” he muttered.

In the early hours of the morning, my butler gave me a cup of black coffee as usual, and I sipped on my drink as I watched him grimace.

“It seems like we’re taxing some people quite heavily,” I remarked.

“And from where, pray tell, did you get that information?” Carlos asked.

“My dream.”

My butler gave a deep sigh. Hey, stop looking at me with pity!

“Should I call for a doctor?” he suggested.

“No need,” I snapped. “I’m talking about taxes.”

“But, my lord, the taxes imposed on the Lightless fief abide within the laws of the kingdom. While I admit that they are by no means insignificant, they are not particularly higher than other territories.”

“What? Are we not taxing them heavily?”

What in the world? Will the taxes suddenly rise in the next few years?

“You’ll one day be in charge of the land, so I suppose it is good that you are interested in these affairs,” Carlos said.

“But our family possesses a vast amount of land,” I countered. “Are you sure everyone is paying the same standard rate?”

“Of course, taxation rates change based on the region. And professions such as trade, farming, and fishing each have their own rates. When a merchant makes a sale, they’ll be taxed based on their reported profits, and farmers will be taxed on their crops. Fishermen are taxed on their haul.”

“Argh, enough with the complicated explanation. What you’re saying is, the Lightless fief isn’t overtaxing anyone, correct?”

“Indeed, my lord.”

Then I guess there’s nothing I can do for now. But...in the first arc of my dream, I visited a dying fishing village. A massive monster had suddenly appeared one day, and the village couldn’t catch nearly as many fish. The story’s primary focus was on the subjugation of the monster, but there was a subplot about bringing to justice an official who had been forcing heavy taxation.

That fishing village...belonged to the Lightless fief, didn’t it? I quietly pondered over this possibility. Crap. If I let that village be, I’ll definitely be killed for it in the future. Ugh, think! What was the name of that village again? It was...

“Roguebert...” I muttered.

“Pardon?” Carlos asked. “Did you just say something?”

That crazy blonde sailor who hated me so much came from Roguebert, didn’t she? That was her hometown... Ugh, just remembering her pisses me off. The way she cut me down while insulting me was an unforgettable experience, even if it was only in a dream. Is she suffering because her hometown is heavily taxed? That sounds delightful to me, but I don’t want to be killed for that. I suppose I’ll have to make a trip to Roguebert.

“Carlos, what’s my schedule for today?” I asked.

“Today, my lord?” he asked. “You have practical training with your magic instructor in the morning, lunch, and then you’ll study economics, magical studies, and etiquette in the afternoon. You have a rather busy day.”

“So, it’s nothing special. Cancel it all and prepare a carriage immediately.”

“Pardon?! My lord, what are you...”

Practical training with magic was always unnecessary for me, and I had nothing to learn from my lowly magic instructor. I’d endured his lessons while I had to take them, but now clearly wasn’t the time for such silliness. There were more important matters at hand.

“Make haste,” I ordered. “We shall head for Roguebert.”

“Please wait, my lord!” Carlos cried. “How can we possibly cancel your schedule? Your instructor is already here!”

“Indubitably!” a voice boomed.

A middle-aged wizard wearing a pointy hat stood in front of me and my butler—my magic instructor, Lezard.

“Lord Lofus, it’s time for your practical training,” Lezard bellowed. “Wherever are you off to?”

I silently produced a massive Dark Ball and hurled it toward Lezard. My spell headed to the right of my instructor and gouged out the area in front of him. The blast blew his hat off before it gently fell on the ground, and Lezard stood there, speechless and petrified with shock.

“Out of my way,” I ordered.

Lezard trembled as he gingerly stepped aside. “M-M-Most impressive, Lord Lofus! You performed a chantless spell! I suppose the morning p-p-practical training is—”

“‘Chantless’? That was a nonverbal spell. I have nothing more to learn from you. Flatten out that ground in front of you and then make yourself scarce.”

I ignored Lezard, who quivered and fell to the ground, before I walked ahead. All the while, Carlos covered his face with his hands as though to hide his exasperation.

“Lord Lofus...” he muttered.

“If memory serves, he was the third-eldest son of a baron, wasn’t he?” I asked. “I find it oddly humorous that he dares to try to teach me with his low skill level. Fire him by the end of the day.”

“How many instructors have you fired already?”

“How should I know? It’s your duty to hire a better instructor for me.”

In general, the higher the noble’s rank was, the more mana they had. Every now and then, there were lower-ranked nobles and commoners with high mana, but they were exceptions rather than the rule. I hailed from the house of an honorable marquess and was blessed with massive amounts of mana to boot; a man like Lezard, who came from the household of a lowly baron, could hardly stand a chance against me.

“We have offered a handsome salary, but new teachers just don’t come swarming to our ads,” Carlos replied. “And I can’t blame them, what with the frequent switch of instructors and all...”

“If that’s your attempt at thinly veiled criticism, I’d like to point your complaints to whoever hires these failures,” I scoffed. “I mean, really, how do you expect a man who doesn’t know the difference between a chantless and a nonverbal spell to be my teacher?”

“Sir Lezard is a very skilled instructor, you know. Especially compared to the average person. A nonverbal spell is a highly advanced technique, and the fact that you can do it as easily as you breathe is not the fault of your teacher. He really must feel like his position is untenable.”

“If that’s all it takes to be considered ‘skilled,’ then the kingdom’s standards for magic must be abysmal.”

All the while, Carlos and I climbed aboard the carriage, and I rapped the ceiling with a cane to signal the vehicle to creak forward.

“Go forth,” I ordered. “Our destination is Roguebert.”

The carriage slowly groaned to start when the coachman snuck worried glances at me.

“What? What’re you staring at?” I demanded.

“Er... My lord, do you know about Roguebert?” Carlos asked.

“Me? Of course not.”

“I thought so. It’s a remote fishing village in the countryside, located on the frontier. Even I only know its name.”

“Huh, so it really must be out in the sticks. Our march is quite vast, so I’m not surprised. Is it far away?”

“Most certainly, my lord. It takes a full four days by carriage to reach it.”

“Four days?!”

I sat there in astonishment, completely unsure of what to say. I don’t want to stay in a cramped carriage for four days... I didn’t think Roguebert was that far away.

“This distance is far too much,” Carlos said. “This coachman couldn’t possibly handle it. I recommend hiring a coachman suited for long rides, in addition to a few guards. We must also prepare ample food and other supplies and adjust your schedule as well. And since we’re leaving the house for more than four days, Lord Lightless must be informed.”

“Hm...” I mumbled.

There’s too much to do. Usually, I would’ve given up by now, but my life was literally on the line. If I solved whatever issue plagued Roguebert, I felt like one of the factors leading to my death would be nipped in the bud. I would much rather push my limits here so that I could save myself in the long run.

“Carlos?” I said.

“Yes, my lord? Have you decided to abandon this endeavor?” he asked.

“You’ll act as my coachman and my guard.”

There was a long pause. “Pardon?”

I knew that Carlos had once been the knight commander within the Lightless fief. He might have grown older, but he was still plenty powerful and had ample experience camping outside. For a mere four days, I knew that he wouldn’t need to sleep a wink as he stood on guard. He wasn’t a man of caprice, prone to becoming the dark butler on a whim during the second arc of my dream.

Carlos looked utterly dumbfounded, but I knew that this request wasn’t completely unreasonable for a man of his caliber.

“Make haste and grab necessities as we prepare for our journey,” I ordered. “Worry not about money. I shall pay for it from my own funds.”

I took out a sack filled with gold coins from my pocket and tossed it over to Carlos.

“But Lord Lofus...” Carlos protested.

“As for our schedule, well, don’t worry about it,” I said. “Leaving this house for five days or so is no big deal, and I’ll report back to my father after the fact. Rest assured, I shall be the one to report to him.”

“M-My lord! You mustn’t! We can’t simply leave because we wish to! We must at least ask for Lord Lightless’s permission—”

“Silence!”

I unleashed a wave of powerful mana, silencing Carlos at once. The air, thick with my mana, caused the carriage to creak, and the coachman fainted as he foamed at the mouth. Cold sweat dripped down Carlos’s forehead as he gritted his teeth and managed to cling onto his consciousness.

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Carlos,” I growled.

My butler gave a kneel of resignation. “Of course. I was out of line, my lord. I shall make preparations at once.”

“Very good. Go on.”

I noticed Carlos’s lifeless eyes as he carried the coachman off the carriage and went out to buy some supplies.

2. The Desolate Fishing Village

“Lofus Ray Lightless!” the blonde woman shouted. “Because of nobles like you, Norn was... Norn was...”

Her face twisted with rage and wrath as she gripped her blade and hacked me to pieces over and over again. She relentlessly continued her attacks, and I was killed countless times in my dreams as this sailor woman exhibited the most animosity among the main character’s forces. She clearly held something very personal against me. She glared at me with murderous fury as the name of the childhood friend she failed to save repeatedly tumbled out of her lips.

She gave a final swing of her blade toward me...

✶✶✶

I opened my eyes as the gentle scent of the ocean tickled my nose. The rickety ceiling of the carriage appeared before me. What a nightmare, I thought. I’d dreamed of being killed by a crazy woman, and now I was headed to her hometown of Roguebert. While I wasn’t sure if this village was related in any way to my dream, it seemed that I internally rejected everything related to that woman. Carlos must’ve noticed that I awoke as he peered in through the coachman’s window.

“Are you up, my lord?” he asked.

“Yes, though I can’t say that sleeping in a carriage is a comfortable experience,” I replied. “I had a horrible nightmare.”

“Again? You’ve been having these nightmares quite frequently recently.”

“Indeed...”

I no longer wished to be killed for crimes that I didn’t remember committing.

“Do hang in there,” Carlos said. “We’ll arrive in Roguebert quite soon.”

He flashed a smile as I gazed out the window, only to spot the vast ocean and a dying fishing village.

✶✶✶

After a full four days within the carriage, I finally reached Roguebert. I could smell the ocean even from within the carriage, and when I looked out, I could see many dinky hovels cluttered around the streets. This was exactly the kind of rural, remote region that I’d envisioned. A man like me, born and raised in the cities, found the mere sight of this place offensive to the eyes, but I had to bear with it. My life’s on the line. Roguebert was a tiny fishing village with fewer than a hundred residents in total; since it bordered on the main street, I suspected that many travelers and merchants passed by here. It should be decently prosperous, by all accounts...

“Are we really in Roguebert?” I asked.

The village was more dismal than I expected, and there were hardly any signs of people. With all the abandoned houses, it more resembled a ghost town. Feels like Roguebert’s already done for.

“According to the map, we should be in the right place,” Carlos muttered.

His hands gripped the reins as he also tilted his head to one side with confusion. In my dream, Roguebert appeared in the first arc, right after I began my life at the academy. I entered the academy upon reaching adulthood—around three years from now. But even then, there weren’t any talks about the village being this abandoned... What in the world happened?

“Carlos, stop the carriage,” I ordered.

My butler heeded my order and I stepped off.

“What will you do?” he asked.

“Look for residents,” I replied.

The best way to learn about the current state of the village was to ask about it from its residents. Though the issue here is that there just aren’t any people around. With Carlos in tow, I walked around the village and noticed a little lodging located in the corner, with an “open” sign hanging from its door. I decided to peek inside, but when I entered the place, there were no signs of employees at the counter. Instead, a little bell stood there solemnly.

“My lord, if you ring that bell, I suspect someone might come to assist you,” Carlos said.

“Are you mocking me?” I snapped. “I can obviously see that.”

If I were to enter a store in the city directly under the control of House Lightless, no fewer than ten employees would immediately line up and welcome me warmly.

Hmph, this is why I hate the countryside—they’ve got no manners.

I let out a sigh and rang the bell. Soon enough, I heard footsteps, though they clearly were in no rush. Finally, the bald owner of this lodging with a scruffy stubble appeared.

“Are you a customer or what? No solicitors,” he grunted.

“Come again?” I snapped.

If a commoner dared to act so rudely toward a noble, the kingdom allowed us to punish them on the spot for their insolence. Among the nobles, I held a high rank as I came from the house of a marquess, and my household ruled over this land. In short, I could’ve beheaded this bald owner on the spot and no one would’ve complained. I know that this place is in the boondocks, but I didn’t expect the residents here to be so uneducated.

Carlos, perhaps sensing my anger, shot daggers at the owner. The bald man, overwhelmed by the pressure, took a step back and hastily sized us up; our attire made it clear that we weren’t just normal folk, and he immediately changed his tune.

“I-I’m terribly sorry!” he stammered. “How may I service you today?”

He rubbed his hands and flashed a creepy smile, making it clear that he wasn’t used to offering excellent service. It’s the bare minimum, but at least he wasted no time in changing his tune. I swallowed my anger and turned to him.

“What’s going on in this village?” I demanded. “I don’t sense a single person around.”

“Oh, er, well...” the owner stammered as he averted his gaze awkwardly.

“What? Out with it already.”

“Pardon my impudence, but are you a noble, good sir?”

I let out another sigh. Good grief, these people are so... My jacket proudly sported the crest of a crescent moon swallowing the sun—the insignia of House Lightless. Has this man never seen it before? You may be in the middle of nowhere, but you’re still a citizen of my fief. They say that ignorance is sin, and I feel inclined to agree. I could hardly believe that this man just openly admitted that he didn’t know the emblem of the lord of the land that he lived on; he was practically mocking nobles with his stupidity. A lowly man like him should’ve been killed on the spot.

I channeled my dark magic into my arm and used raw strength to grab the owner by his collar and lifted him into the air.

“E-Eeeek?!” the owner screamed.

I drew my face close to his. “Did your parents tell you to answer a question with one of your own? I can truly see how uneducated you lowly citizens are. You need only to answer my question. Do I make myself clear?”

“I-I-I’m s-s-so terribly sorr—”

“Enough with your empty words. What’s going on in Roguebert? Where are all the people?”

“Th-They’re all gone! Many of them fled from this village!”

“What?”

They fled? Why? What happened here? I released my grip on the owner, then formed a Dark Ball within my hand to intimidate him.

“Why did they flee?” I asked. “For what reason?”

“Aaahhh!” the owner shrieked.

The moment he saw my spell, he seemed to go half mad, curling himself up in a ball with his head in his hands.

“My lord, I find your actions are having the opposite effect,” Carlos pointed out.

He spoke carefully to not spoil my mood, but I didn’t care; the owner couldn’t even recognize the Lightless family crest. That in and of itself was worthy of death for his insolence, as this went beyond mere ignorance of an uneducated man. The fact that he couldn’t recognize the emblem of his own lord was a clear act of ridicule and mockery. And unfortunately for him, I had no benevolence to extend to someone as insolent as him.

“As you can see, owner, I don’t exactly have the longest of tempers,” I said. “You’ve only got two options now: Tell me everything, or die on the spot.”

“Please, please... Forgive me. Forgive me!” the owner babbled.

He repeated himself over and over again like he was in a trance, making it clear that he wished for death. I let out a sigh and channeled mana into my hand. The only act of mercy I could offer this audacious man was to finish him in one blow so that he wouldn’t feel too much pain.

“P-Please wait!” a shrill voice cried.

Just as I was about to cast my spell, a little girl stepped between the cowering owner and me. She physically became his shield and stood in front of me as she extended her arms wide.

“Please, dear noble!” she shouted. “Please grant us your benevolence!”

She desperately pleaded for forgiveness. Is she the daughter of this owner? Unlike this cowering man, she courageously stands in front of me. Her bravery is commendable. However, this was a foolish act as well, and worthy of death for her impudence; a commoner must never stand in the way of a noble, and interrupting my execution of this man was quite impertinent. A commoner must never impede a noble’s course of action. Does this place rarely get any nobles? Is that why they’re so ill-mannered? The citizens near my manor are—no, there’s no use complaining about it here.

“I am executing this man for the disrespect that he’s shown to me,” I said. “This is a proper act that many nobles are given the right to do. Why must you hinder me, girl?”

“He’s my father,” she implored. “I don’t mind if you kill me. But please, grant mercy on my father!”

She placed her hands and face on the ground and kowtowed in front of me. Hm... Very well. She’s got the bare minimum of manners and showed me at least a modicum of her respect and earnestness. I suppose she’s not completely ignorant of how to act in front of a noble. And if I kill both of them, my generosity as a noble shall be questioned.

I silently let my spell fizzle out.

“Very well, girl,” I said. “Raise your he—”

But before I could finish my sentence, loud footsteps echoed throughout, and several men barged into the lodge, surrounding Carlos and me. The men had shovels, hoes, harpoons, and fishing poles in their hands; these tools were more than enough to use as weapons, and when I glanced outside, there were quite a few more men gathered around the lodging.

“I can’t stand back anymore.”

“Who cares if he’s a noble?”

“Get him!”

The men angrily raised their voices and directed their bloodlust at me. I didn’t spot a single person in the village. Why is there such a huge crowd now? The owner mentioned that many of the residents fled, but were they just in hiding? And to come at me with such perfect timing... They clearly were waiting for their opportunity. These commoners surrounded a noble and foolishly voiced their intent to attack me. Their actions went beyond just a breach of etiquette—this was akin to a revolt.

Killing the instigators wouldn’t be enough; I’d have to destroy their family and their bloodline. Even decimating the entire village wouldn’t be uncalled for. Do these idiots really know what they’re doing? Even Carlos let out a sigh as he glared at the men, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Indeed, I can’t just turn a blind eye to them. Whether they know the gravity of their actions or not, they cannot take them back. I decided to kill everyone present for treason and display their heads on the streets so that I wouldn’t tarnish my reputation as a noble. However...

I let out another sigh. Stay calm. Maintain composure. I mean, I’m calm enough. I visited a remote fishing village like Roguebert precisely to prevent my death in the future. Even if I took care of a few dozen commoners here, it wouldn’t prevent my grisly fate in a few years.

“My lord, let’s break our way out,” Carlos said.

“No need,” I replied. “You need not do a thing.”

My butler seemed intent on beheading everyone in a flash, but I stopped him. I knew that Carlos could easily take care of everyone in this room, but doing so wouldn’t change a single thing.

I condensed some mana atop the palm of my hand and created a blade—a technique that couldn’t even be called a spell. This chunk of visible mana wasn’t very strong either, but it was more than enough to intimidate others. Of course, this could still kill someone if I pierced their heart with it.

“I won’t hurt you if you stay there, girl,” I whispered. “Don’t move.”

I spoke softly to ensure that only she could hear me. Likely getting the hint, she gave a silent nod. Ah, she’s quite intelligent, I see. I wasn’t sure if she caught onto my intentions or simply didn’t want to die, but either way, I much preferred an obedient subject to a foolish one who dared to go against me. I gently placed my blade of mana against the girl’s neck and glared at the crowd.

“If you lot value this girl’s life, you’d best not move a muscle,” I growled.

The men could only watch with astonishment and shock.

“Th-That’s low!” one of the men shouted.

“Me?” I asked. “And I suppose adults armed with tools, surrounding a child and his elderly butler, aren’t low at all? Goodness, I really don’t understand the values of commoners like you.”

I smiled with my sarcastic retort, and the commoners only gritted their teeth and glared at me. Huh... So they surrounded me without once considering that I’d take a hostage. Impulsive and shallow-minded... I guess commoners aren’t much smarter than monkeys.

“I shall get nowhere speaking with baboons like you,” I spat. “Aren’t there any humans that I can hold a civil discussion with?”

I looked around and saw the red-faced men give way to a middle-aged man who parted the crowd. A cross-shaped scar was on his cheek, and his tanned skin only made him more intimidating. His sharp glare silenced the others, and the men visibly deflated and shrank in his presence. I guess he’s the leader of the bunch.

“I apologize for surrounding you so suddenly,” he said. “Won’t you free little Lillia there first?”

He stood in front of me and stared straight into my eyes. I guess this girl’s name is Lillia... Not that I care.

“It seems the lowly commoners of Roguebert truly have no manners,” I said. “You don’t bow your head or introduce yourself in front of a noble such as myself.”

“Whoops. Apologies, sir,” he said. “I’m Greig, head of these sailors. As you can see, I’m from the boonies, so don’t expect me to have any manners.”

He flashed a smile and introduced himself. Needless to say, he didn’t bow his head, and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes either. His hand remained on the blade by his waist, and he seemed more wary of Carlos than me. I’m just a kid, but Carlos is armed—I suppose this Greig has a smidge of common sense.

“I’m sorry,” Greig said. “I’ll have these idiots back off. You heard me, boys! Step away.”

The men remained reluctant and tried to pounce on me instead, but an immediate glare from Greig made everyone leave the building.

“I suppose I can have a conversation with you, at the very least,” I said.

I dispersed my mana and turned to him as Greig looked at me unexpectedly.

“Gee, I didn’t expect you to free little Lillia here so quickly,” he said.

“It’s too much of a pain to destroy this dingy, old village anyway,” I replied.

Greig glared at my cutting remark.

“Don’t give me that look,” I spat. “That’s exactly what’s supposed to happen when lowly commoners dare to surround a noble. You lot even brought weapons and tools with you. This goes beyond insolence and treads firmly into treason. The criminal’s family line should be slaughtered and this whole village burned to the ground. It’s only natural.”

“I see...” Greig replied. “Which is why you took little Lillia hostage and intimidated the other sailors to prevent that from happening.”

The leader of these idiots is quick on the uptake. If any one of them had managed to lay a hand on me, I would’ve been forced to take them all out.

“I gave you guys a chance, but there’ll be no next time,” I warned. “Even the cardinal of a church wouldn’t be so merciful.”

“So? Want me to thank you or something?” Greig asked. “I can bow my head as many times as you wish, oh benevolent noble.”

“Hah! And how valuable is that puny head of yours? But I suppose you ought to lower your head for what I’ve done. Go on.”

The air between us was sharp and intimidating. I saw Lillia in the corner of my eyes, hastily trying to pour us all a cup of tea as she did her best to keep it together. No need for unnecessary kindness. Just stand there.

“Hmph, you’re a haughty kid, that’s for sure,” Greig replied. “But yeah, I’ll thank you. After all, you let my boys go. You’re a noble, but not rotten to the core. A far cry from that bastard, Clinton.”

And yet, Greig made no attempt to lower his head as he scowled. Huh? Lower your head. Who the hell is Clinton?

Carlos caught on to my befuddlement and explained, “Clinton faux Serpente is in charge of this area.”

Ah, the magistrate. And Serpente is the house of a viscount on the frontier, isn’t it? A low-ranking bumpkin of a noble, no doubt. Wait... A magistrate of Roguebert? Is this Clinton the man who enforced heavy taxation on the main character and his forces? But that name never came up...

“Are you on bad terms with this Clinton?” I asked.

“‘Bad’ is an understatement,” Greig replied. “He’s the enemy of Roguebert, the worst kind of bastard around. I don’t care if I’m accused of treason; if he so much as shows his face around these parts again, I’ll slaughter him. You just see if I don’t!”

Looks like everyone here hates Clinton. The men who stood outside made their ire apparent. I could practically feel it in the air. If Clinton were to appear right now, there was no doubt a riot would ensue.

But this guy just proudly declared his intent to revolt in front of the heir of House Lightless. Sure, I haven’t named myself, but does he really not know who I am? Does he not see my house’s crest on my jacket? Or is he truly ignorant about it? It’s the same for all the others too—not a single one recognizes the simple truth! You’ve got to be kidding me... I really feel a headache coming on.

“But I guess I shouldn’t have said that in front of a noble, eh?” Greig added. He scratched his head and grinned. “Best if you just run along, young master. I don’t know why you came to a remote region like this village, but a lot of us have deep-seated grudges against nobles. It’s not right for you to stay here for too long.”

I guess he’s telling me to leave. But this is within my march, and furthermore, I’m the eldest son of the lord who rules over this entire fief.

His words were worthy of a beheading. Is it my fault for being silent about my birth? Do I have to spell it all out for them? How stupid and uneducated are these commoners? They really aren’t that different from monkeys.

I almost fainted from how idiotic these imbeciles were, but I managed to keep it together and turn around.

“Carlos, we’re leaving,” I ordered.

“Huh? A-Are you sure?” my butler asked.

He seemed shocked; after all, I’d usually behead all of these insolent fools on the spot. But none of that mattered anymore—I was absolutely exhausted from having to deal with their idiocy.

“I am,” I replied. “This place makes my head hurt.”

“Sorry ’bout this, kid,” Greig said with an apologetic frown. “I really don’t mean to chase you away.”

Shut your trap or I’ll kill you. I ignored Greig and climbed back into my carriage with Carlos, and for the umpteenth time today, I let out a huge sigh.

Now that I think about it, in the tale, the main character meets a new ally in Roguebert: a heroine of the story, that crazy sailor woman. I can’t believe she’s one of the heroines. The sheer thought of her sent shivers down my spine, and judging from the timeline, she was probably in that village already. Luckily, I hadn’t spotted her, but if I did, my anger would’ve reached my peak and I might’ve killed everyone in sight.

“Let’s go home,” I ordered.

I commanded Carlos to head back home. If I stayed in this lowly place for much longer, I knew that it would affect my mental well-being. I yearned to return home as soon as I could so that I could surround myself with the finest that my land had to offer and become psychologically stable. Carlos, who had been awake for four nights in a row, cast me a haggard and weary glance, but I knew that a man like him could easily stay up for twice as long. What mattered now was easing my mind.

Carlos let out an exhausted and sorrowful sigh as the sound of the whip hitting the horses rang in the air. Another four days until I reach home... This’ll be a tough road back.

Just as I was about to reclaim some peace in my life, I heard the angry cries of the commoners.

“It’s Clinton! His underlings are here!” someone shrieked.

As I wearily gazed out the window of my carriage, I saw all hell break loose. The commoners were screaming in terror, and a group of people wearing armor were blocking the only exit out of this village.

“We’re here to collect taxes,” the group barked. “Hurry and pay up, foolish citizens.”

The armed soldiers arrogantly called out to the village residents who angrily raised their voices.

“Are you blind?!” a villager roared. “You know that we don’t have the money to pay any sort of taxes!”

“Open your eyes and look at the state of our village!” said another.

“We can’t catch any fish!” bellowed a third. “We can’t pay any sort of tax!”

But the soldiers only grinned maliciously.

“If you refuse to pay, we’ll just force the money out of your hands,” a soldier said. “Oh, and don’t even think of resisting. We’re allowed to kill you if you try anything funny.”

They readied their weapons as they stormed into the houses of the residents. The soldiers didn’t even take their shoes off as they ransacked the hovels and took anything of value.

“Screw you guys!” the villagers shouted.

They did their best to fight back, but shovels and hoes didn’t stand a chance against polished blades and spears. Any villager who dared to resist was silenced in a flash, and the houses were all torn apart; all the while, I rested my face in my hand and gazed at the scene within my carriage.

“Hey, Carlos,” I said.

“Yes, my lord?” he asked.

I used my chin to point at the soldiers who were practically pillaging the area. “Are they allowed to do that?”

“No, that’s very clearly against the laws of the kingdom. To force those who cannot pay taxes to cough up the money, one must follow due process. And as you can plainly see, those soldiers aren’t following any sort of procedure.”

“I figured... How crass and boorish of them. These soldiers are acting like mere bandits. They aren’t even real soldiers of the kingdom, are they?”

The soldiers’ armor was not the official attire provided by the kingdom, nor was it of House Lightless.

“Indeed not. I suspect they are Clinton’s personal guard, or perhaps his mercenaries,” Carlos replied.

“And that crest,” I pointed out. The soldiers’ flag sported the emblem of a coiled snake; it certainly didn’t come from House Lightless. “That’s...the insignia of House Serpente, isn’t it?”

Those within the Lightless fief and those serving my house couldn’t possibly possess a symbol of dignity that represented someone else; to do so would be an act of sheer disrespect and ridicule. Clinton faux Serpente was a magistrate of this land, entrusted to oversee this place, but he didn’t own Roguebert nor was he the lord of it. In other words, Clinton was raising the flag of his own house within someone else’s fief, and acting as though he were the supreme ruler.

“A mere viscount underestimates the power of a marquess, it seems,” I rumbled.

“We must report back to headquarters immediately,” Carlos said. “I shall report this to Lord Lightless posthaste.”

“Is there a problem if I punish this Clinton with my own hands?”

“I...suggest you do not. Doing so without the express permission of the lord of this land is...”

“A troublesome affair, you suppose?”

“He won’t be happy about it.”

“Hm...”

I guess it’s unwise to act here and cause any needless fuss. But if I report back about Clinton, he’ll surely be kicked out of the spot as magistrate, and the heavy taxation would also be nullified. And that’s one reason for my death out of the way. I guess that’s good enough.

Since my initial goal for this place would be fulfilled, I breathed a sigh of relief and gazed out the window. The village was still being ransacked, and the lodging that I’d visited mere moments ago was also flooded with soldiers as Lillia was dragged outside.

“Ooh la la! Look at this, captain! There was a little girl hiding inside!” a soldier shouted.

“Stop! Please!” the owner begged. “She’s my precious daughter! I’ll pay up, so please let her go!”

Even that bald owner’s out of his lodge, clinging onto the soldier...and he just got punched. Very pathetic and fitting for these commoners, but these soldiers really are no better than bandits. It’s all too clear how unrefined they all are. Clinton not only dares to raise the flag of his house on our land, but even pillages villages with his personal army and kidnaps girls from a village. The dirt I have on him only piles higher.

As I watched them with satisfaction, a soldier approached our carriage.

“What’s this? Mighty fine vehicle you’ve got there,” a soldier said. “Looks like this’ll fetch some serious dough.”

Huh?

“Hey, old man! If you don’t wanna die, get outta that carriage. And take that brat too,” the soldier ordered.

I can’t believe a soldier of a lowly noble dares to talk so high and mighty toward me. Is he also an imbecile who doesn’t recognize the Lightless family crest?

Carlos, who watched the scene coolly, now looked visibly infuriated as a vein popped on his forehead. He glared at the soldier.

“Move, you shrimpy knave,” Carlos spat. “A worm like you shouldn’t even dare to approach us.”

“The hell?” the soldier replied. “I’m the soldier of the Viscount Serpente! What’s more, we’ve received the backing of that dark noble, House Lightless! You think I give a damn about who the hell you are?”

The soldier unsheathed his blade and pointed it at Carlos and me.

“If you got that through your thick skulls, get out,” the soldier ordered. “The carriage’ll sell for less if it’s stained with blood.”

The moment he took a step forward, his head was gone. It rolled onto the floor, that snarky grin still on his face—he didn’t even have the time to process his death. Brilliant swordsmanship as always.

Carlos swung his rapier, ridding his blade of the blood.

“Lord Lofus, I apologize for offending your eyes,” the butler said.

“I don’t mind,” I replied. “Had you not offed him, I would’ve done it myself.”

Unbelievable. This soldier not only casually mentioned the name of Lightless, but he tried to board our carriage that was engraved with my family crest. This soldier was so stupid that it was almost comedic. Good grief. Now I’ve got an excuse to not just crush Clinton, but to save Roguebert as well.

“Bastard!” the captain of the soldiers roared. “Do you understand what you’ve done?!”

He approached us with wrath; I recognized him being called out moments ago.

“How dare you turn Viscount Serpente and the Dark Noble Lightless against you?!” the captain demanded. “Don’t think your life will be spa—”

I silently created a Dark Ball with my hand and crushed that soldier’s head. “Dark Noble”? What kind of silly nickname do we have?

“Indeed, it’ll be you lot who can’t return alive,” I spat. “Carlos, kill them all. You’ve got my permission.”

“Certainly, my lord,” Carlos replied.

He readied his rapier and hacked at the group of soldiers. Despite being vastly outnumbered, he took care of all of them easily and did the work worthy of a thousand soldiers. Now that their captain was gone, the soldiers could only stand there dumbfounded and hardly showed any teamwork. They were practically training dummies for Carlos.

“Since I’m already at it...” I muttered.

A soldier stood flabbergasted nearby as he restrained Lillia, and I hurled my Dark Ball at him as well. I blew him away and freed the girl from his grasp. She was stunned for a few moments before she vehemently lowered her head with gratitude along with her father, the bald owner of the store.

Hmph, don’t look so pathetic. Just head back into your home already.

All the while, Carlos made short work of the soldiers and got rid of the vermin.

Just then, I heard a sound akin to the whistle of a warship, and a cold shiver ran down my spine. I felt like I was being dragged into the ocean depths below. It wasn’t actually a sound that rang in the air, but rather the trace of mana that was carried by the ocean breeze. An auditory hallucination...

Carlos must’ve heard it as well as he froze and turned toward the sea. No one else seemed to have noticed it, and this trace was so faint that those without mana couldn’t even grasp it. And yet, this faint hint of mana made me hear a noise that wasn’t there. Is there something in the sea? Is it the massive monster that was supposed to appear near the seas of Roguebert, three years from now?

As my mind raced, Carlos had already finished off the soldiers and returned to my side. Not a speck of blood sullied his pristine tailcoat as he lowered his head.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said. “I’ve let two escape.”

I gazed at the entrance of the village and spotted several horses, likely belonging to the soldiers. When we sensed that mana, they must’ve taken their chance to ride their horses and flee.

“Some rats know how to scurry away, it seems,” I said. “But I don’t mind.”

I had also been distracted by that mana, and it wasn’t bad that some soldiers would live to tell the tale. When they filed their report, I suspected that Clinton would leap into some sort of foolish action.

As I decided to head for Clinton’s manor, I wondered how that man would make excuses for himself. Surely, he’ll dance around like a jester, and that’ll be quite amusing. Father loves to go fox hunting; is this how it feels? The prey has no means of escape, and they pathetically dance within the palms of our hands—how very entertaining. I’d always declined the invitation since hunting didn’t seem all that interesting to me, but I decided to take him up on that offer next time.

Carlos and I boarded our carriage as I gave my order—we’d head for Clinton’s manor. He was located in a port city that was half a day’s carriage trip away. I’ll spend the night there. A port city surely must have better lodgings.

“Wait, kid!” a voice called.

I turned and spotted Greig, the man with the cross-shaped scar on his forehead. He was covered in scratches from fighting against the soldiers.

“I chased you out, but you even saved us! How can I ever repay you?!” he cried.

As he began to ramble on and on, I rapped the ceiling of the carriage with my cane, signaling Carlos to move the carriage.

“Are you sure?” my butler asked. “This man is expressing his gratitude to you.”

“I don’t care. Start the carriage,” I said. “I can’t stand the awful voices of these commoners any longer.”

“Yes, my lord.”

I ignored Greig as the carriage started, but the man didn’t shut up. In fact, he raised his voice louder than before.

“I had nobles all wrong!” he shouted. “I’m sorry, kid! Stop by Roguebert again! Next time, I’ll be sure to welcome you warmly!”

How noisy... Why would I ever visit this backwater again? I couldn’t handle his annoying voice, and so I covered my ears until he faded into the distance.

✶✶✶

Clinton faux Serpente was the fourth son of the viscount of the countryside. His long, ash gray hair was tied behind him, and his long, narrow eyes and slender body resembled his family’s crest. Very snakelike, I thought. He was a kid spoiled rotten despite being a lowly ranked noble employed by House Lightless.

Clinton rubbed his hands together with gusto as he repeatedly bowed in front of me. I sat in the center of the large room of his manor and acted as though I owned the place.

Around an hour ago, I reached the port city where Clinton’s manor stood, and was immediately surrounded by his standing army. Clinton, who was most certainly among the mix, was astonished when he saw the Lightless crest on my carriage. He quite literally jumped up with shock and immediately told everyone to make way and lower their weapons as he went on his hands and knees to prostrate in front of me.

“Oh, how dare I surround the carriage belonging to the house of Marquess Lightless!” he wailed. “I’m so terribly sorry, and I do hope you’ll forgive me.”

I said not a word as I quietly stepped off my carriage and stomped on Clinton’s head as he was still on the ground. Clinton’s soldiers stood there with disbelief as, either from fear or humiliation, Clinton’s shoulders trembled beneath my feet. I glared at the soldiers standing there like oafs.

“Why are you standing?” I spat. “Do you all wish to die?”

I created a Dark Ball within my hand as Clinton shouted to his subordinates, still prostrating in front of me.

“You fools! Kneel!” he bellowed. “This man is the eldest son of Marquess Lightless, Lord Lofus Ray Lightless!”

The soldiers hastily cast their weapons aside and knelt obediently in front of me. I suppose any official of the Lightless fief, even someone out in the countryside like him, knows of me. Clinton was obviously familiar with my face, and he and his soldiers all bowed to display their utmost submissiveness. Ah, yes, this makes me feel very good. This is what I was looking for. When I heard that he was in the countryside, I didn’t expect him to know me, but this is exactly the kind of respect that House Lightless commands. I’m a high-ranked noble of this kingdom—the ruler, not the follower.

And so, Clinton respectfully invited me to his manor where I sat proudly in his room. Carlos remained silent and only gave me a weary gaze.

✶✶✶

“I was attacked by your soldiers in Roguebert,” I said. “Why, pray tell, did something like that happen?”

I plastered a fake smile on my face as I glared at Clinton, and beads of sweat poured down his face as he bowed once more.

“I-I’ve received a report from my soldiers,” he said. “It seems the soldiers didn’t recognize you, my lord. That is why they acted so boorishly toward you. I can only offer my deepest apolo—”

“Were your soldiers not aware of the Lightless family crest that decorates my carriage? Don’t tell me they didn’t recognize that.”

No resident of my fief could possibly remain ignorant of my family’s emblem. Even the commoners of remote regions could easily be killed for such ignorance. Naturally, this crime was heavier when it came to a person who belonged to the military, as their ignorance wasn’t solely their responsibility. They would immediately receive a court-martial, and even their superiors might be punished for negligence toward their subordinates.

The crest was proof of the family, and failure to recognize it and wrongly attacking the family couldn’t be laughed off as a simple mistake. If Clinton’s personal army couldn’t recognize the Lightless emblem, the responsibility would obviously fall upon Clinton, who served as the head of his forces.

“Failure to recognize your crest?!” Clinton cried. “That’s impossible! No one within the kingdom, much less those within your fief, shall be ignorant of your noble insignia, my lord! I’m sure they simply didn’t see it! They didn’t take a good enough look! I-I apologize for their offense—they were completely out of line. I shall punish the soldiers severely for their misdeeds!”

“Oh?” I asked.

I was rather certain that the soldier had seen the emblem but didn’t recognize it. The people of Roguebert seemed similarly unaware. But I expected this response. People usually push the blame onto their subordinates to evade responsibility. The soldiers who managed to escape from Roguebert might have already been dealt with, as Clinton would be the one in trouble if they accidentally had a slip of the tongue.

“Ah yes, and that reminds me... Your soldiers raised a flag with a very curious emblem at Roguebert,” I said.

Clinton visibly stiffened.

“Now, where did I see that emblem before?” I muttered. “Yes, I believe it belonged to a certain bumpkin of a noble.”

He was a magistrate hired by my family. If he raised a flag of his own family crest, it was proof of a rebellion.

Clinton wiped his sweat from his brow and raised his head.

“E-Er, well...” he stammered. “Um, you see, those soldiers were brought from my hometown. Uh, they were from the Serpente fief just the other day, and they had kept their weapons and gear on them...”

Clinton did his best to come up with an excuse as he gingerly peered into my face.

“And?” I asked.

“A-And, well... Though it pains me to admit, this region isn’t quite flush with money,” he confessed. “I couldn’t gather all the gear in time. I swear to you that this wasn’t an act of rebellion.”

He rubbed his head on the ground once more. That’s hardly an excuse—even you should be aware of that. Duplicitous... Just like what snakes are known for. Even if everything he said were true, he was guilty of a crime the moment his flag was raised.

As I smirked and gazed down at the man, Carlos could no longer stay silent.

“You really don’t know when to give up, do you, Magistrate Clinton?” he asked. “Lord Lofus has watched you pillage the residents, employ violence against them, and even attempt to kidnap someone. There is no excuse for your horrific actions.”

Clinton bowed his head and trembled.

Come now, Carlos... No need to butt in. But whatever, I’m tired of listening to his vapid, shallow lies.

Just when I thought it was all over for this man, Clinton raised his head and tried to approach me.

“I-I’m not at fault! Really!” he wailed. “I-It’s all Roguebert’s fault! They refused to pay taxes!”

“He still comes up with silly excuses...” Carlos muttered wearily.

He reached for his blade, but I raised my hand to stop him.

“No need. I want you to write up a report on this man’s many...deeds,” I said before I lowered my voice to a hushed whisper, ensuring that no one else could hear me. “And gather some evidence.”

Carlos quietly nodded and left the room. I suspected that this manor was chock-full of incriminating evidence, and I didn’t want to give this man the opportunity to cover his tracks. I needed to buy some time while Carlos grabbed all the proof.

“Failure to pay taxes, you say?” I asked. “How interesting. Do go on.”

I wasn’t actually interested in this story, but I needed to keep Clinton occupied as my butler swiftly did his work.

“They kept making excuses and claiming that they couldn’t catch any fish!” Clinton insisted.

“And why can’t they catch fish?” I asked.

“They claim that a sea monster has turned aggressive, or several have been lurking about! It’s all nonsense and lies! They’re just trying to keep all the money and food for themselves without paying what they owe!”

Aggressive monsters?

“Are there really monsters turning more aggressive?” I asked.

“They’re lying, I’m sure!” Clinton shrieked. “I’m positive about that! They just don’t want to pay their fair share of taxes!”

Clinton kept insisting that the villagers were lying, and that was getting me nowhere. But in my dream, there was a mention of monsters turning more hostile. In the first arc, when the Demon Lord was resurrected, the blue skies turned a dark crimson and an ominous sun of the darkest void rose in the sky. This led to the monsters turning more numerous and aggressive. It was a calamity that signaled the end of the world, and this phenomenon was dubbed “the Catastrophe” within the story. But now still isn’t the time.

At the very least, I still had three years to spare, and the sky remained blue and unchanging. However, right before the Catastrophe, powerful monsters appeared as the harbinger of doom. The Demon Lord had four familiars, known as the Four Fiends, and one of them appeared near the oceans of Roguebert. A massive octopus the size of a small island wreaked havoc on the land. This octopus, which we called a kraken, was named Strafe the Sea Monster.

Did it already appear? I thought it was supposed to pop up three years from now. That weird feeling I had from the sea earlier... Was that one of the Four Fiends?

“No, it can’t be...” I muttered.

The premise is different. The tale hasn’t even started yet. It starts three years later when the main character enters the Magic Academy, and I don’t know of anything before then. What if the Four Fiends were around and causing destruction even before the story’s beginning?

“Clinton, when did these complaints about monsters first start?” I asked.

“Erm, around half a year ago, my lord!” Clinton claimed. “The people of Roguebert were obedient before, but they suddenly got this scheme in their heads!”

Six months—that’s more recent than I thought. Which means that in a mere six months, Roguebert was reduced to a desolate ghost town... Can it even last three more years until the story begins? Had I not interfered, the village would’ve been completely abandoned within a year. Or perhaps...

“Did the Four Fiends appear sooner than expected?” I wondered.

If so, then everything makes sense.

The Roguebert that I saw today was far more dingy and dismal than the village in my dream, which was set three years from now. Because of the mass outbreak of hostile monsters, the village couldn’t catch any more fish and failed to pay their taxes. And so, Clinton pillaged the village to force them to cough up any coin. All of this was supposed to occur three years from now, but it was happening sooner for some reason.

Or is this too huge of a leap in logic? I don’t think it’s impossible.

If the tale in my dreams was the future and my fate, then I was an anomaly who attempted to go against the destiny of this world. After all, I’d butted into Roguebert’s affairs, and I was trying to change their future. Not to mention there was a chance that I wasn’t the only one; others may have seen the same vision.

As I stewed in my thoughts, Carlos returned. That was quick...

“I’ve gathered all the evidence,” he whispered in my ear. “And...”

“What?” I asked.

“He indeed has been taxing the village more heavily than I thought. And these heavy taxations aren’t forced only upon Roguebert. Nearby villages are also under the same harsh conditions, and he often pillaged and kidnapped residents as he did in Roguebert. In fact, there are quite a few towns and villages suffering from his rule.”

Seems like Clinton really acted as he pleased within my fief.

“What about our auditors and inspectors?” I asked.

We periodically dispatched auditors to ensure that the magistrates weren’t conducting any misdeeds; judging from the widespread damages, I guessed that this was extremely difficult to keep under wraps.

“I suspect they’ve been bribed as well,” Carlos muttered.

“So the bastardry goes all the way up,” I replied.

It did bother me that this manor looked awfully...luxurious, perhaps a bit too much for a port city on the frontier. Seems like Clinton deepened his pockets by shackling citizens with hefty taxes.

“Looks like he’s got a bit of money,” I mumbled.

“Precisely so, my lord,” Carlos replied. “I’ve spotted an impressive amount of money stored in the safe underground.”

He’s even tracked down the safe? Quick work as usual.

“We’ve got plenty of evidence,” Carlos added. “I suggest we restrain Clinton and report back to Lord Lightless.”

I could send a messenger bird to my father and explain the situation to him as I awaited his decision—this was a safe and wise decision. Unfortunately for me, matters just weren’t so simple. So long as Strafe of the Four Fiends lurked within Roguebert, fishermen would continue to struggle, and Roguebert wouldn’t be able to pay even their usual taxes. I didn’t know what the main character and his factions would say to pin all the blame on me so that they could end my life, so it was clear that I needed a permanent solution to this issue.

I have to kill Strafe.

“Wait, Carlos,” I ordered. “Don’t report back yet.”

“Pardon?” he asked. “But we can’t keep quiet about this anymore.”

“You’ll do your report once everything is over. My primary reason for coming here hasn’t been handled yet.”

“My lord...”

“Now, don’t look at me so wearily. Stick with me for just a bit longer, will you?”

Clinton anxiously turned to Carlos; the crook couldn’t hear our conversation, but he obviously knew that something was amiss. Clinton faux Serpente... Hm, I suppose I’ll use whatever I’ve got.

✶✶✶

Sea Monster Strafe wasn’t particularly strong among the Four Fiends. The four familiars that served the Demon Lord were all enormous, but while Strafe was the largest of them all, its size was just for show. In truth, it wasn’t as strong as it looked. Within the tale of my dream, it fell in battle against the kingdom’s warships. The hero suppressed the mass outbreak of hostile monsters within the sea, then fired the warships’ cannons into Strafe, ending its life. Sure, Strafe was as massive as an island, but it was a squishy invertebrate that could be taken down by a few cannons.

However, there weren’t any warships to assist me at this moment. I might be able to prepare a vessel of House Lightless, but I had no idea how to explain this situation to my father, and I doubted that he’d just go along with everything.

What am I gonna do? Explain to him that I dreamed of my own grisly death? Tell him that a commoner will work his way up to be king? Absolutely not!

My father would simply call for a doctor to check my head, and that would be the end of my plans. Furthermore, mobilizing a warship was akin to spurring the military; even the eldest son and heir to a household had his limits in power, and this was one thing that I couldn’t do. Lucky for me, we were in the port city, and there was plenty of money to go around. I’ve got other ideas...

“Clinton, I’ve received word that Carlos here has gathered evidence about all of your wicked deeds,” I said.

“What?!” Clinton gasped with shock.

He visibly panicked, and I couldn’t blame him; Carlos had been gone for a mere half hour, and Clinton likely didn’t expect my butler to work so quickly. Unfortunately for you, Carlos is very good.

“Th-This must be some sort of mistake...” Clinton muttered.

All the while, he slowly inched away and snuck glances back at the door. You’re being a bit too blatant with your tactics... Do you really think that you can escape?

“Ah, yes, I’ve taken care of your subordinates who were beyond that door,” Carlos said nonchalantly, delivering the final blow.

“Th-That can’t be...” Clinton said, falling to his knees and hanging his head low.

You had troops hidden to ambush us, didn’t you? Carlos, you really do work quickly. But seriously, an ambush? Did Clinton actually think that a few soldiers could take us? Good grief, we’ve surely been vastly underestimated.

“My word...” I said. “It seems the contents of my report for my father only keep piling up. You’ve shackled heavy taxes on my citizens without permission, plundered and kidnapped them, and you even... What do I call this? An attempted murder against the eldest son of House Lightless? And I’m sure if I snoop around, I’ll find plenty of other issues.”

I gazed down at Clinton, who kept his head low, and I stuck the knife of reality within him and twisted it around. He trembled and shuddered, unable to even raise his head out of fear.

“With all that you’ve done, simply punishing you won’t be nearly enough,” I remarked. “I’m sure that even your parents are surprised by their son’s misdeeds.”

As I implied that the full responsibility of his crimes rested on the household of Viscount Serpente, Clinton’s face twisted with fear as he inched forward, hoping to cling to my feet.

“Please, please, my lord,” he begged. “Please grant me some of your mercy...”

“Down, churl!” Carlos spat, pinning Clinton down.

My butler pressed Clinton onto the ground, but the fool kept imploring for my mercy and benevolence like he was stuck in his own stupor. I could hardly believe that this man was a noble; even commoners would not stoop to such pathetic groveling so easily. Still, I decided to lend this fool a helping hand.

“Clinton, I can give you a chance,” I said.

People tend to make poorer judgments when they hit rock bottom. Clinton was like a sinner trying to climb up from the pits of Hell, grasping at the spider’s thread that was benevolently floating in front of his eyes without once questioning it, and he slowly raised his head with obvious hope.

“A-A chance?” he parroted.

“After all, I trust that you’re a noble, and a different sort of blood flows through your veins, which sets you apart from commoners,” I replied. “Do you not find it unfair that you must be punished for exploiting the lower class a little?”

Clinton’s face, which was dyed with despair, now shone with a glimmer of hope.

“I-Indeed, I completely agree, Lord Lofus!” he stammered. “Commoners are supposed to be exploited, in my opinion! I stand above them!”

He stood up with gusto. Carlos glared dubiously at the man, but I raised my hand to stop my butler. Hush for now.

“But the kingdom’s laws are absolute,” I said. “At this rate, you’re headed straight for prison. With all this evidence in front of me, I cannot turn a blind eye to your deeds. However...I can give you an opportunity to redeem yourself.”

“M-My lord!” Clinton gasped. “Your benevolence truly knows no bounds! And whatever shall I do to earn your mercy?”

“You spoke earlier about Roguebert’s monster subjugation request... You must resolve that issue yourself.”

“Wh-What? But that’s a bald-faced lie spouted by those commoners.”

“The lie isn’t the issue. The fact of the matter is that Roguebert has requested assistance, and you must answer their call, even if it’s just to keep appearances.”

“Appearances...” Clinton pensively placed a hand on his chin.

“If I have enough evidence to report back to my father that Clinton faux Serpente defeated a sea monster—regardless of whether it actually existed or not—that becomes the undeniable truth.”

The reality didn’t matter; what was vital was my word and my report.

“Which means that my words can pin you as a criminal who abused the citizens or a hero who saved the people of Roguebert,” I explained.

Clinton silently widened his eyes as it all hit him like an epiphany.

“But I need proof to make these claims,” I said. “And for that, I require you to take action.”

“Proof...” Clinton muttered. “What should I do?”

“Faking a monster subjugation is no easy feat. My word alone won’t provide nearly enough evidence, and you’ll need records of mobilizing your own forces.”

I took a piece of parchment and scribbled a few requests before I tossed it to Clinton, who quickly scrambled to grab the paper.

“I’ve jotted down the forces you’ll need,” I said. “Prepare them all by today.”

I listed people, a massive amount of gunpowder, cannons, weapons, ships, and other necessities; they were all vital to take down Sea Monster Strafe.

Clinton scanned the paper and his cheek twitched.

“L-Lord Lofus...” he muttered. “I’m sure that I can scrape together enough personnel with my mercenaries, but these weapons, including cannons and even a ship? I fear that I won’t be able to gather them all by today.”

He looked troubled, but these supplies and personnel were the bare minimum I needed; after all, I wasn’t here to fight an imaginary monster. There was no room for compromise.

“You must,” I ordered. “Prepare them all by today, as we shall depart tomorrow.”

“But there is no monster,” Clinton insisted. “This seems a bit excessive...in my humble opinion...”

“If we don’t muster enough forces, my claims will lack credibility. It won’t be convincing enough. And should we delay, my father might look into this matter personally. I won’t be able to cover for you then.”

“H-Hmmm...”

He groaned pensively, which only annoyed me further. Does this moron think that he has the luxury of choice?

“Well, if you don’t want to, then don’t,” I said. “I’ll just file my report to my father and tell him the whole truth. The next time we meet may be in the courtroom. Ta-ta.”

“What?!” Clinton cried. “N-No, please!”

“Then make haste. Use all the money that you’ve saved until now and the network you’ve built to prepare everything that I need. You’ve squeezed quite a bit from the citizens of the Lightless fief, have you not? I won’t let you claim that this is impossible.”

“I-I shall make the preparations right away.”

I let out an overwhelming aura. Clinton trembled before scurrying out of the room like a scared rabbit. I heard him shouting orders to his subordinates from outside the room, and rushed footsteps echoed throughout the manor. This manor’s rather noisy. They seem quite desperate.

“What if Clinton tries to flee?” Carlos whispered into my ear.

“Flee? Him?” I asked. “Not a chance. He’s not at rock bottom anymore—he’s desperately clinging onto the salvation I’ve offered him.”

But I guess the chances aren’t zero. I’ll have a plan in place, just in case.

“Lark,” I muttered.

I summoned a tiny familiar above my hand. A small, dark fur ball appeared on my palm as it blinked with a single crimson eye. It looked at me expectedly, waiting for my behest.

“Keep Clinton faux Serpente under your watch,” I muttered.

My familiar flew out of my hand and vanished like mist. I knew that it was headed for Clinton; if he tried anything funny, I’d learn about it immediately.

✶✶✶

That night, I was welcomed warmly at Clinton’s manor with a lavish banquet. He even prepared a room where I could stay the night. I knew that I could sleep better in here than the average inn nearby, and it was obvious that he’d squeezed all the money from citizens. The food that was served was on par with the high-quality restaurants near my manor back home. However, I realized that there wasn’t much seafood to go around despite being a port city; perhaps this was due to the effects of the monsters.

Clinton gave me a status update during dinner. He was apparently able to prepare everything that I required—Carlos noted that the money underground had completely vanished. Looks like he mobilized people with cash, I thought.

“Very good, Clinton,” I said. “By tomorrow, you shall become the hero who saved Roguebert.”

“Ah, well, then this was all very much worth it,” Clinton replied, looking a touch exhausted.

“I’m surprised that you managed to prepare cannons and gunpowder so quickly,” I remarked.

Gunpowder might not have been much of an issue, but cannons and their ammunition couldn’t be easily procured by merchants within the port city. The buying and selling of weapons within the kingdom was prohibited by law, after all. Hence, I’d advised him to use his network. If he was kidnapping residents, it was highly likely that he was involved with human trafficking and had operations within the black market.

“Half of the weapons and supplies I was able to gather within this manor,” Clinton revealed. “As for the remaining half...well, I can’t really be loud and proud about it, but I used a secret route...”

“Hmph, since you’ve made all the preparations, I won’t pry,” I replied. “All that matters is that you were able to do it.”

Clinton gave a deep bow. Thanks to his efforts, I was able to prepare the firepower that I needed, so I wouldn’t corner him...for now. But it became clear that some nefarious, evil pests were lurking within the Lightless fief, and I wanted to deal with them once this matter was over.

“And please, take these,” Clinton said.

At his signal, the door opened and a cart was wheeled inside. A servant removed the black cloth that covered the wagon, revealing a mountain of gold coins, piled high.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Lord Lofus, you’ve offered me your benevolence today, and for that, I wanted to repay you,” Clinton replied. “Naturally, I don’t think this covers my debt to you at all, and if you require anything from me in the future, please give me your orders.”

Clinton flashed a strained smile as he tried to offer me some hush money. After all, I’ve grasped his weakness from this incident. This is an impressive amount, though I imagine this is all dirty money.

“Hmph, very well. It’s a good mindset for you to have,” I said.

I gave him some words that’d satisfy him, and Clinton smiled. Keep smiling—I’ll wipe that smug grin off your face soon enough. Indeed, according to my script, he was set to die tomorrow when he faced Sea Monster Strafe.

✶✶✶

Early the following morning, I took several ships to Roguebert. On their mast was the symbol of the crescent moon swallowing the sun—the insignia of House Lightless. We were attacked by several sea monsters during our voyage to this village, though they were all weak and puny. I didn’t even need to cast any magic, and Carlos made short work of them with his blade. But our clashes with the monsters grew more frequent as we neared the village.

Clinton and his soldiers supporting us from behind looked worn out by the time we reached Roguebert.

Sure, we’ve been in successive battles, but how pathetic and indolent must you all be? I wondered. I wasn’t sure if they weren’t used to fighting against monsters or if they simply weren’t trained enough, but their expert maneuvers when they pillaged the villagers were utterly useless in combat. I fear for our future...

Sea Monster Strafe had an ability to summon its own invertebrate familiars. In my dream, the main character tackled these countless familiars while he used cannons to hit Strafe itself and attain victory.

I assumed that the hostile sea monsters near the seas of Roguebert were Strafe’s familiars. I wanted Clinton’s soldiers to take care of these familiars, but they were more useless than I thought. Worst case, Carlos and I can take care of the familiars, I’m sure... But the most curious thing is that the monsters we’ve been fighting on the ship don’t seem to resemble anything that Strafe summoned in my dream.

We fought monsters of all kinds: merfolk enveloped in scales as armor, a swordfish with a head shaped like a literal blade, and even a massive sea serpent. The ship’s crew claimed that one could run into these monsters every now and then, but never at such a constant rate. They added that these monsters were far more hostile and aggressive than usual. Within my dream, the many hostile monsters were all Strafe’s familiars, different from the usual variety of monsters that terrorized the seas. It wasn’t that normal monsters turned hostile; Strafe was able to create a type of monster.

“Hm...” I muttered.

Why are there discrepancies from my dream? Is this not due to Strafe, but some other entity of the sea?

As a seed of anxiety was planted within my chest, the ships sailed onward and reached Roguebert. Clinton would follow us from a different ship that was behind us. I telepathically told him that Carlos and I would set foot on Roguebert, while he was to stay within the ship; if that crook ever showed his face at this village, I knew that a riot would break out.

I stepped off the vessel with Carlos in tow. Greig, the head of the sailors with an intimidating cross-shaped scar on his face, was the first to rush to me.

“K-Kid?!” he gasped. “Wh-What’s going on here?”

He had a harpoon in hand. Guess I can’t blame him. A couple of vessels appeared out of nowhere.

“Nothing,” I replied casually. “I’m just here to take care of the monsters.”

“What?! Wh-Why’re you doing that?!” Greig cried.

“The monsters have been wreaking havoc, have they not? That’s what’s affecting your fishing, I presume?”

“Y-Yeah, you’re right, but... Are those ships here so that they can get rid of the monsters?” He gazed at the vessels with astonishment.

“I suspect this battle will be quite grisly and may affect this village. Take all the villagers with you and evacuate.”

“Huh?! Really?! You got it, kid! I’ll head right away and—”

Just as Greig turned around to alert the others, a bowl hurled through the air toward me. Carlos, who stood behind me, swiftly knocked it away with his hand, making it plummet into the ocean. I turned to where the bowl came from and spotted a boy with a harsh glare and a bandanna tied around his head. He looked to be around fourteen or fifteen, and his hostility was clear as he shot daggers at me.

Carlos narrowed his eyes and placed a hand on his blade, but I stopped him. Roguebert was a village of barbarians who knew no manners; if I reacted to every insolent thing they did, I’d get nowhere at all.

Greig turned to the boy, wide-eyed.

“Fol!” he bellowed angrily. “What the hell are you doing?! This kid’s the savior of Roguebert!”

Yes, I’m the savior and a noble. So stop referring to me as a “kid.” That’s very rude of you, Greig.

“That’s my line, pops,” Fol growled. “Why are you trusting the words of a noble? Evacuate? Yeah, right. He’s probably gonna steal everything from this village as soon as we’re out!”

“Don’t be daft!” Greig roared back. “This kid’s different from a bastard like Clinton!”

What a horribly gauche conversation. I feel like I’m listening to the screeching of monkeys. And I’ve brought that “bastard” with me on a ship, right over there. I decided to keep quiet and wearily watched this father and son fight.

“Hey, Mr. Noble!” the boy called Fol said, turning to me with another glare. “I heard that you apparently saved this village while we were away, but I won’t be fooled! Just give up already and reveal your true colors!”

What a noisy child... He really does seem like a monkey who despises all nobles.

“Greig,” I said, turning to the man. “Is he your child? I see that he hasn’t been disciplined.”

“S-Sorry, kid...” Greig replied. “Fol’s the youngest of three siblings. I know my kid must’ve upset you. I’m really sorry.”

“And who is this ‘we’ he mentioned?”

“A couple youngsters of the village, including my own, routinely head out to take care of monsters. Or else, the horde of monsters might attack our village. Clinton and his soldiers came to ransack our village when they were away.”

“I see...”

So they take care of monsters. These commoners who can’t even use magic are fighting against beasts... How bold.

I ignored Fol and continued to converse with Greig, when the young boy took out a wooden stick and kicked the ground. A moment later, he was right in front of my eyes.

“Huh?” I asked.

“Don’t ignore me!” Fol shouted.

I was quite stunned by his swiftness. He mercilessly swung his stick down, but Carlos, who was behind me, defended the attack with his rapier.

“Tsk,” Fol said with an annoyed click of his tongue.

As the two weapons clashed with me in the middle, Greig was the one to interrupt this exchange.

“What are you doing, moron?!” Greig roared.

“Gah?!” Fol gasped.

With a mighty howl, Greig kicked Fol’s side, and the boy drew a beautiful arc in the air as he fell into the sea. When he popped up from the water, the father and son began another shouting match. Normally, it was absolutely unheard of for a commoner to try to lay a hand on a noble; I would’ve killed him by now, but I learned yesterday that Roguebert was a village of monkeys who barely knew how to communicate with humans.

I would’ve been infuriated had I been speaking with a fellow human, but there was no use trying to argue with lower beings—logic was out the window. And the rude and vulgar actions of such people were proof of their inferior intellect. Commoner aside, Fol’s actions were sharp. So much so that I could barely keep up. I knew that commoners had no mana, but I wondered if they were physically skilled instead. No wonder he’s tasked with taking care of monsters.

“Kid, I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I don’t know if any of my apologies are ever enough, but I’m truly so sorry!” Greig shouted.

He bowed furiously, and I decided to display my generosity once more.

“I don’t mind,” I replied. “I don’t expect you lot to show a smidgen of manners at this point.”

“This goes beyond that,” Greig replied. “Fol isn’t the type who lashes out at anyone, but...”

“Yes, he’s very hostile, isn’t he? I’ve never met him before, but is he only angry with me because I’m a noble?”

“Not long ago, Fol’s childhood friend was kidnapped by Clinton’s soldiers. He tried to save his friend, but to no avail. Ever since, he’s hated nobles. I know I’m asking the impossible, but please don’t think badly of him.”

Well, it’s a common enough story. Can’t say that it piqued my interest, but...

“Greig, are the other youngsters of your village who take care of monsters as strong as that brat?” I asked.

After all, Clinton’s soldiers were more useless than I thought, and Fol’s physical prowess was rather impressive. If any of them were useful, I wanted to bring them with me to battle.

“Fol’s special, but the other villagers are very strong too,” Greig answered. “If you don’t mind them, please take them with you. I’m sure that they can be of some use.”

Quick on the uptake.

“Will they listen to my orders?” I asked. “If they’re all as hostile as him, it doesn’t matter how strong they are.”

Fol clearly wasn’t the type to listen to my orders, and if the others were just like him, they’d only be a nuisance even if I took them with me.

“They’ll be fine,” Greig reassured. “The others don’t think ill of you. After all, you saved little Lillia’s life.”

Lillia? Oh, the daughter of that lodging owner.

“Give me a bit,” Greig said. “I’ll call ’em for ya.”

Greig went to the village and returned with some intimidating men in tow. There were around ten of them; they were all a bit slender, possibly from a bit of malnutrition, but they were all taller than Fol and of decent build. Greig mentioned that Fol was special, but are all of these men inferior to Fol? They all reacted to me differently, but they viewed me favorably.

“You must be the noble who saved little Lillia!” one said.

“You’re a lot shrimpier than I thought!” another remarked.

“I thought you were some kind of giant since I heard you took care of all the soldiers!” a third chimed.

It comes as no surprise that these monkeys lack common sense, but I do wonder what environment they were raised in to end up with zero manners. I always get a headache when I come here.

“Hey! He’s a noble!” Fol said as he came out of the ocean and approached us. “Why the hell are you guys chatting with him like you’re buddies?!”

Another source of my headache...

“Just shut up already!” Greig roared as he landed his fist on Fol’s head.

The boy pressed against his head with tears in his eyes, and the other men burst out laughing.

“Cut the act,” I said. “I’d like to defeat the monsters.”

Greig and the other men turned to me, their faces filled with determination.

“I’ll take my ships and clean the sea of monsters,” I said. “If all goes well, you’ll be able to fish like you did before.”

The men started to cheer.

“However, I regret to inform you that the soldiers I brought are useless,” I added. “I’d rather borrow the assistance of men like you, who are used to fighting atop the sea.”

Though I doubt I need their help. I can probably take care of the monsters myself, but the more people we’ve got, the easier the fight will be. Even if they died in battle, I couldn’t have cared less. The lives of commoners mattered very little to me, and they truly were worthless, but the men took my request with gusto.

“Of course we’ll go!” one cried.

“Roguebert’s at stake, after all!” another added.

“It’d be a shame for us to leave everything to a kid!” a third declared.

As the men were getting pumped for the battle, a man who towered over the rest stepped up; he had a cross-shaped scar on his cheek and cast an intimidating aura. He looks just like Greig—is he Greig’s son or something?

“We’ll go with you, of course. In fact, I ask that you let us help,” he said. “I’m sure that we’ll be of use to you—we know the sea like the back of our hand.”

He outstretched his rugged, large hand for a handshake, but I didn’t take it and merely looked up at him.

“Are you Greig’s son?” I asked. “You refuse to name yourself, and that rudeness of yours resembles him very well.”

“Whoops, pardon me,” he said. “You know how we are, country bumpkins with no manners and all. I’m Log, Captain Greig’s eldest son and the second-in-command of these sailors.”

I knew it. Even his clichéd lines are uncannily similar to Greig’s. But did they have to get the same cross-shaped scar too?

“We’ll head out immediately,” I said. “If you want to come along, board the ship with me. Log, was it? You can come with me.”

I tried to head back to the vessel, but Fol, who was being restrained by Greig, still cried out in protest.

“Wait!” Fol shouted. “A noble taking care of monsters for commoners?! How can we trust you?! What’s your goal anyway? What do you have to gain by doing this for us?!”

What a noisy little brute. I glanced at him with annoyance when Log bowed his head.

“Sorry. I know he isn’t the best kid,” he said.

Ah, if you’re Greig’s eldest son, then that makes you Fol’s older brother, right?

“It’s fine,” I replied. “I’ve got a troublesome younger brother myself.”

Unlike me, who lived in a separate manor, my younger brother was still ten and lived with my father and mother. He only had half as much mana as I did, and he lacked the powerful aura that I possessed; he was surely a dud of a brother. That reminds me... In my dream, after I was killed by the hero, my younger brother became heir and took over the marquess’s household, and even decided to cooperate with the hero’s forces. A wimpy brother like him couldn’t make House Lightless prosper. The only just and right way was for me to take over.

“Lord Lofus, you’ve matured considerably...” Carlos said.

He seemed moved to tears by my actions, likely because I let these insolent commoners be. Hmph. I’m not so short-tempered that I’d kill a monkey who can’t tell wrong from right. But Fol, ignorant to my thoughts, continued to shout and screech like the animal that he was.

“Hey! Stop ignoring me!” he demanded. “I’m talking to you! Stop trying to act all cool! You’re just a rich kid! You idiot! Moron! Uh...pipsqueak!”

Huh? What did he just call me?

“Lord Lofus?” Carlos asked. “W-Wait, no...”

“Kid?!” Greig cried.

I quietly approached Fol, who was still restrained by his father, and grabbed the boy by his collar. Carlos clung onto me in a desperate attempt to stop my actions, but I ignored my butler. I paid no heed to the others who were shocked by my sudden aggression as I drew my face close to Fol’s.

“I’m not tall because I’m only eleven,” I rumbled. “Don’t get all high and mighty just because you’re a bit taller than me, scum.”

I inadvertently unleashed a wave of powerful mana, but Fol remained calm and unfazed.

“Heh, so, you’ve finally turned my way, huh?” he asked. “I thought nobles like you were blind to commoners or something.”

He flashed a taunting smile. Does he want attention or something? What a boundless fool. I summoned an extra-large Dark Ball on the palm of my hand.

“Looks like someone wants to die,” I said.

“Finally showed your true colors, eh?” Fol replied. “I knew that all nobles were scum.”

“Only because you provoked me.”

“Can you blame me? Nobles like you deserve to be taunted for your shitty ways.”

“That so? Now die.”

Just as I was about to blow Fol’s head off, Carlos grabbed me from behind to restrain me.

“Please don’t!” he cried. “At this close range, you’ll drag everyone else into the blast!”

Greig, who still held his son back, turned pale as he stared at me.

“Tsk,” I muttered.

With a click of my tongue, I undid my spell, and Greig breathed a loud sigh of relief.

“Scared?” Fol asked with a smile. “You’re a noble, but you’re still a brat, huh?”

“Cut it out, you imbecile!” Greig bellowed.

As though to add on, Log punched his brother on the head, and Fol once again looked teary-eyed. What an annoying brat. I turned to Carlos, who kept me restrained.

“Release me,” I ordered.

“I can’t,” Carlos replied.

“I won’t use my spells anymore. Release me.”

“...Yes, my lord.”

He swiftly freed me from his grasp, and I glared at Fol.

“You. Boy. I don’t care what grudge you bear against nobles and what history you might have with them,” I spat. “Cry me a river about your sob story. I’m not interested.”

“What the hell?!” Fol seethed. “It’s because of nobles like you—”

“And I said that I don’t care. Don’t blame the misfortune that befell upon you onto others. I’m saying that I’ll save your village, so don’t get in my way.”

“How can I trust you? What do you get out of this?”

I breathed a loud sigh. “My explanation might fall upon deaf ears for uneducated monkeys like you, but I shall tell you. Roguebert isn’t the only region plagued by sea monsters. If we let them be, the entire fishing industry and even the merchants who come by sea shall be attacked. The financial blow to the Lightless fief would be catastrophic. In fact, I imagine that the entire kingdom might be negatively impacted by these monsters. And if these beasts manage to crawl up on land, there’ll be human lives at risk as well.” I politely gave a detailed explanation to this dolt before I finished with, “Surely you’d understand as much if you actually managed to think about it for a moment. Whether or not idiots like you trust me is the least of my concerns.”

Fol fell silent but looked at me completely baffled as he cocked his head to one side. He probably doesn’t even understand half of what I said, does he? See, this is why I hate uneducated, stupid oafs.

I let out another sigh and tried to summarize this entire thing, trying to make it simple enough so that someone with half a mind could understand.

“This isn’t about what I can gain, but what’s at stake,” I said. “If I let the monsters do as they please, my land will continue to be damaged. I’m not defeating these monsters for you. I’m doing it for the fief, and by extension, for me. Don’t get it twisted, commoner.”

Fol sulked as he turned his head away. “I don’t like being insulted, but you’re killing monsters for your own sake, right? Not for us?”

Who’ll do jack squat for a pip-squeak like you? I’ll kill you, moron.

“Makes sense,” he said. “That selfishness is what I expect from nobles anyway, so I guess you aren’t lying.”

“Good. Then shut up,” I replied.

I turned away and headed into the ship. Log awkwardly followed me with the other men in tow as we boarded the vessel.

Carlos stood behind me, wiping sweat from his brow.

“I’m so proud of you for holding yourself back, my lord,” he said, his handkerchief in hand. “I was scared to bits. I thought you were going to murder that young man on the spot.”

I planned to. But if I killed Greig in that blast, I’d probably turn the entirety of Roguebert against me. I wasn’t eager to shoulder all that trouble. But I don’t recall a Fol in my dream... A guy with his thorny personality and talent could’ve easily shown up during the battle against Strafe, but try as I might, I just couldn’t recall his name within my dream. Did he die within the next three years, or was he forced to leave Roguebert for some reason? Wait... The name “Fol” does sound oddly familiar...

I led the men as I was lost in my thoughts, but when I stepped out onto the deck, I heard swift footsteps echo in the air. I turned toward the noise and spotted a shadow leap from the pier, land in the center of the dock, and sit cross-legged. It was Fol.

“If you’re really gonna subjugate monsters, I’m coming with you,” he said. “I can’t trust you guys on your own.”

He grabbed the cutlass by his waist and tossed it on the floor in front of me, as he leaned back and relaxed. His jumping prowess and athletic abilities were certainly a sight to behold, but I felt like I was justified in my anger and irritation. I glared at Fol and pointed to Roguebert.

“Get off,” I ordered.

“No,” Fol insisted. “You mentioned it earlier, didn’t you? There are things at stake.”

“You just learned that word. Don’t use it like you had the brains to receive an education, monkey.”

“I’m not a monkey! And you’re shorter than me! Midget!”

“That’s it; you’re dead.”

I stepped forward to grab Fol again.

A fistfight broke out between us, and it took Carlos and all the other men on deck to stop the brawl. Log firmly planted another punch atop Fol’s head, then proceeded to do a mini presentation of how the boy would be useful for us.

After all was said and done, Greig remained at the village to evacuate the residents. Why didn’t you keep Fol restrained, you useless oaf?

And so, I set sail for the voyage of a lifetime.

3. The Devil’s Sea

After half a day of sailing north from Roguebert, monster attacks became even more frequent. Clinton and his soldiers seemed exhausted by these consecutive battles as they followed behind us.

In contrast, the sailors of Roguebert, commanded by Log, were utterly unfazed. They made short work of the monsters and coolly sailed on. I hadn’t divided them up among our ships, instead keeping them all on my main vessel with me. I didn’t expect the villagers to fight alongside Clinton’s soldiers, and most importantly, I was cautious of a riot breaking out should any of those of Roguebert catch sight of Clinton.

The man’s hiding away in his room, so he should be okay, but...

And the man in question whined and complained with every chance he got.

“L-Lord Lofus!” Clinton wailed telepathically. “L-Look at all these monsters! We should retreat at once!”

“What are you on about? We’ve come all this way,” I replied.

He apparently didn’t expect monsters to actually be around, and his cowardice only seemed to grow with each attack. You’re not even fighting; you’re relying entirely on your soldiers. I decided to leave him with a threat: He was free to leave, but the moment he did so, I’d sink his ship with my magic.

When I explained to Clinton that his only options were to become a hero or die a coward, he managed to regain his gusto as tears streamed down his cheeks. I knew that I could trust him to command his useless soldiers. I’d had him purchase a hefty number of potions, so I predicted that at least some of his crew would survive until we reached Strafe.

“Hey, why don’t you help out a little?” Fol grumbled as he used his cutlass to deftly cut down a swordfish.

I had a sofa dragged out from inside the ship and onto the deck, under the shade. I sat there elegantly, relaxing as I watched the sailors fight against monsters. Carlos was right behind me. Thanks to the hard and frankly impressive work of the sailors, Carlos had too much time on his hands as well. He only occasionally had to cut down a monster that managed to sneak through the sailors to attack me.

“You guys seem to be handling it just fine,” I remarked.

“We’re fighting for our lives here,” Fol replied. “Why’re you the only one who gets to laze around?”

“Heh. That’s the difference between a noble and a commoner. Looks like you learned something new today, peon.”

“The hell did you call me?!”

He’d pick a fight with me every now and then, which was truly a nuisance, but I couldn’t deny that he was killing the most monsters, skillfully cutting each one down in a flash. It seemed Greig’s claims were true—Fol indeed was special.

In my dream, Sea Monster Strafe made its appearance in a location that would take half a day’s voyage north of Roguebert. It should appear by now, but I don’t see it at all...

Just then, Log turned pale.

“Wait,” he said to the pilot. “We can’t proceed any farther. Please turn back.”

Huh? What’s Log thinking?

Just as the ship began to change its course, I butted in.

“Why are you changing course without my permission?” I asked. “Get back to our original course.”

“We can’t,” Log insisted. “We’ll enter the Devil’s Sea.”

“What?”

All the sailors around me were trembling as they gazed at the horizon that stretched north.

“It’s a rumor among sailors,” Log explained as he solemnly gazed north. “Legend goes that there’s a devil lurking there that swallows entire ships whole. Once you enter its territory, you can never come out.”

“It’s just a tall tale, isn’t it?” I asked. “Or have any of you actually seen this so-called ship-eating devil?”

“Well, no... But sailors don’t really approach the Devil’s Sea regardless.”

He averted his gaze awkwardly, and the rest of the sailors did the same.

“My lord, the rumors aside, it’s true that this area of water is deemed to be extremely dangerous,” Carlos whispered. “Hence, we’re unable to trade with the Stelia fief despite its proximity to us.”

The Stelia fief, located north of here, was situated on the northern border. Margrave Stelia ruled over the land that was surrounded by the ocean, snow, and mountains. It was also the hometown of Dragon Rider Warm, one of the Elite Four. The Stelia lands weren’t too far from the Lightless fief—close enough to easily conduct trade between these two regions—but due to this Devil’s Sea, we couldn’t secure a safe sea route.

A devil that swallows ships... Are they not talking about the massive kraken, Sea Monster Strafe? Maybe it’s the devil. After all, it should appear in this area.

“We won’t change our route,” I said firmly. “I suspect that the monsters are growing hostile because of that devil.”

“Really?” Log asked.

He clearly looked hesitant, and the other sailors were white as sheets. Are you all that afraid of the Devil’s Sea?

“I mean it,” I said. “I’ve prepared all this firepower precisely to take that monster down.”

“Hold on,” Log said, growing pale. “I thought you just wanted to fight sea monsters, not the Sea Devil itself...”

How could you be so terrified of something you’ve never seen before? For a bumbling brute, you’re surprisingly cowardly.

“Hey... If we can take that devil down, will we be able to catch fish like before?” Fol asked, resting his cutlass on his shoulder.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” I replied.

He cracked his knuckles and flashed a bloodthirsty grin. “Then it looks like we’ve got some devil beating to do.”

“D-Don’t be daft, Fol!” Log cried out. “This monster has been terrorizing the sea for three centuries! We’ve got no chance of winning!”

But there wasn’t even a hint of fear in Fol’s eyes. “Huh? Do you guys only have those muscles for show? C’mon now, stop being a wuss over stupid stories.”

“Fol!”

I wondered if the monkeys were going to fight again, when the ship—no, the sea itself rocked heavily. Tall waves threatened to assault our vessel, and six massive pillars emerged from the waters to surround the ship. Each pillar was lined with countless suckers; I soon realized that these limbs belonged to a certain invertebrate, and these tentacles could swallow the vessel whole.

“Carlos!” I bellowed.

“Yes, my lord!” my butler replied.

He reacted instantly and raced up the mast to swing his rapier at a tentacle that assaulted our ship. The blade, imbued with mana, cut through the air as he unleashed a flurry of flying slashes. In a flash, he managed to fully sever a tentacle.

“Dark Scythe,” I muttered.

I conjured a scythe in my hand and swung it at the tentacles. My massive weapon, the color of deepest darkness, cut apart two in one slash. Three to go.

The monster, undeterred by its three severed limbs, swung the remaining three down to drag the ship to a watery grave.

“Dark Shield,” I chanted next.

I quickly created a massive, dark wall to protect the vessel; I channeled much of my mana into this spell and easily repelled the three limbs. The tentacles fell back into the water with resignation.

“A-Aaahhh!” the sailors cried.

It seemed they were petrified with fright, reacting a moment later as fear and confusion gripped their bodies. In their current state, any command I shouted would’ve fallen on deaf ears. Besides, though I was a noble, I was an outsider to them.

I spotted Log curled up in the corner of the ship. Enhancing my strength with mana, I dragged him to his feet and slapped him back to his senses. Log turned to me, stunned, and for a split second, I saw the fear on his face subside. Pain was the best way for someone to forget their terror.

“Aren’t you the second-in-command?” I demanded. “If you don’t want to die, keep your men together and take charge! If they continue to run around confused, everyone will die, including you.”

“Ugh... R-Right!” Log replied as he regained his composure.

As he ran off to organize his men, I turned to Fol, who had fallen to the ground, paralyzed. I gave him a strong kick.

“Yeow!” he cried. “H-Hey! What gives?!”

“I thought you were going to do some ‘devil beating,’ peon,” I said. “If you’ve got time to be scared, then ready your blade. The monster’ll attack again.”

“I-I-I’m not scared! I was just startled!”

Just then, a swordfish leaped through the water and flew right at me, but Fol quickly cut the monster down.

“Tsk, there’re other monsters here too?” he grumbled.

“How unexpected,” I remarked. “You protected me.”

“Yeah, I did save your life. So you better spend your entire life paying me back.”

A merfolk then jumped out of the sea to attack him, and I used my Dark Ball to destroy the monster.

“My, my... It seems I’ve saved your life as well,” I said. “What was it again? ‘Spend your entire life paying me back,’ was it?”

“Gah! No need for your snark!”

As he insulted me, he swiftly cut down the monsters that jumped onto the deck. The frightened and confused sailors soon regained their composure under Log’s command and slowly mustered a defense. There were still a few who were unable to stand from fright, though, whom I had to protect with my own spells. Useless, the lot of them.

I considered abandoning these morons, but just then, a massive tentacle appeared from the ocean and tried to wrap around our ship. Carlos and I used our weapons and spells to cut them away. How many tentacles does this thing even have?? I felt like I’d sliced through seven or eight already, but only more continued to emerge from the ocean below. I thought octopi had eight and squids had ten...

Clinton’s voice entered my head through telepathy. “L-L-Lord Lofus?! What in the world is this?!”

“Can’t you tell? Monsters are attacking us,” I replied. “Fight back with your spells.”

“I-I can’t! I didn’t hear a thing about these monsters!”

“Stop crying. Aren’t you a noble? Don’t act so pathetic.”

“I’m leaving! We’ll retreat at once!”

“You bastard, if you dare try to escape, I will personally sink your ship.”

“And do you have the time to do that? Why don’t you worry about your own well-being before trying to threaten me? I value my life above all else! So if you’ll excuse me...”

He cut the telepathic call. When I turned around, I saw that his vessel had left the main ship behind and was already a decent distance away from me.

“Tsk,” I muttered with annoyance.

Clinton must’ve started this call only after he was a safe distance away. I’d failed to notice his retreat because I was too busy with these tentacles. And what’s my familiar doing at a time like this? Everyone’s so useless.

“He got us,” Carlos said as he cut a monster down.

“I’ll deal with that spineless trash later,” I replied. “We have to get rid of this one first.”

“A kraken... I suppose this was the so-called devil that swallows ships.”

“Hmm, I wonder...”

“My lord?”

“Nothing. We’ll find out soon enough once we kill it.”

When the tentacles stopped their attack, I produced a massive dark spear in the air above my vessel. Dark Lance was only an intermediate-level spell, but thanks to my nearly infinite amount of mana, I could enhance it into a devastating attack that trumped even some advanced spells. I sensed a decent amount of mana under the ship, where the main body of this monster was.

“Crew!” I bellowed loud enough for everyone on deck to hear. “I’m about to unleash my spell! If you don’t wish to die, prepare for impact!”

With that, I hurled my spell into the water. The moment I felt it hit the monster, the sheer impact of my attack caused an explosion of magical energy, creating large waves that violently rocked the ship. A hideous, monstrous shriek echoed from below, and the ship almost overturned from the aftermath of my spell.

“Don’t you know how to hold back, idiot?!” Fol shouted. “We’re gonna sink!”

“My lord, I think you’ve gone a bit too far!” Carlos added.

“I can’t see the monster’s entire body!” I roared back. “I have to make sure it’s dead! And I did hold back!”

Of course I know how to control my power! If I actually went all out, this ship would’ve been blown to smithereens! We were at such close range that I’d done my best to hold back, but if I’d restrained myself too much, I wouldn’t have been able to damage the monster. Strafe had the endurance and stamina to withstand a couple thousands blasts by cannons; one measly spell would be nothing more than a bug bite.

As the ship rocked, the monsters on board were thrown back into the water, and a few sailors fell into the sea as well. I told you to brace yourself for impact. I begrudgingly created a few shadowy hands to grab the fallen sailors from the sea.

The Dark Hand spell was a very basic chant used to open doors or carry around small items, but a person like me could easily elevate it to a powerful arm strong enough to lift people. I could even crush skulls or pummel foes with it if I wanted to.

“Th-Thank you,” one sailor said.

“I thought I was a goner...” another replied.

They pathetically hung upside down from my hands before I tossed them back onto the deck. I noticed the sailors relax as the ship calmed down atop the ocean, and I tried to heighten their vigilance.

“Don’t let your guards down!” I ordered. “My one attack isn’t enough to kill it!”

“No way...” a sailor muttered. “It’s still alive?”

“After that crazy spell?” another asked.

As they glanced at each other with confusion, Log, Fol, and Carlos were on high alert.

“Here it comes...” I said.

The ship began to jolt once more, prompting everyone to brace themselves.

The surface of the ocean bulged, then gave way to a massive monster below. Finally, I can see the monster in its entirety. As high waves formed over the sea, a frighteningly colossal, crimson monster emerged; it was several times larger than a ship. The round head of a gigantic octopus appeared before my eyes. But...

“Uh... Isn’t it dead?” Fol asked.

A large hole was blown through the octopus’s head, and judging from the remnants of mana that hung in the air, it had undoubtedly been killed by my spell. The glimmer of life was gone from its eyes, and it didn’t so much as twitch a muscle as it lifelessly bobbed about. It was absolutely dead.

“Yes, it certainly is...” I replied. It’s dead, but... “It’s not Strafe. I knew it.”

This monster was huge, no doubt; the previous record for a kraken’s size was just shy of thirty meters long, including the body and its tentacles, but this monster was at least fifty meters long. It was certainly far larger than anything that anyone had ever seen. This might’ve been the devil devouring ships within the sea for the past three hundred years, but it wasn’t Strafe of the Four Fiends.

Strafe was as large as an island, and its size wasn’t just from a big head. Its tentacles and body were so massive that it couldn’t even fit within the massive sea, and its head always stuck out from the water’s surface. But of course, since that was its weak spot and revealed for all the world to see, the creature could easily be taken down by attacking that area. Thus, it wasn’t seen as very strong despite being a part of the Four Fiends.

This massive kraken that we just killed sported a scarlet body and stripes that were reminiscent of a tiger—both of these characteristics matched Strafe’s description as well. Was this beast what eventually became Sea Monster Strafe? The Four Fiends were set to appear three years from now, when the tale in my dream started. What if this kraken were enlarged somehow, turning it into Sea Monster Strafe? For example, Lars the Demon Lord—the final boss of the first arc—might’ve done something to the kraken.

The Four Fiends were familiars of the Demon Lord, so it was only natural to assume that the Demon Lord had done something to create them.

“Awesome...” Fol said. “Magic’s amazing. You can defeat a ship-eating devil in one go.”

“Fol!” Log barked. “Come back or you’ll fall off the side!”

“I’m fine! C’mon, bro, get over here! Look how awesome this is!”

Fol jumped onto the corpse of the massive kraken and began to run about while Log tried to calm his excited brother.

“Yes! We finally did it!” a sailor crowed.

“The noble’s kid defeated the devil!” another cried.

“Nobles really are amazing! I can only bow to you!” a third yelled.

Some looked relieved while others shouted triumphantly. They’re quick to switch sides, aren’t they?

“That was splendid, Lord Lofus,” Carlos said.

He sheathed his rapier and gave me a word of praise. I wanted to tell everyone to remain vigilant, but there were no signs of any monsters once the kraken was defeated. It seems like the battle’s over... But is it really? I quietly observed the ocean, but Strafe was nowhere to be found. If my hypothesis were correct, it didn’t even exist yet.

Then what about the increased aggression of monsters? That’s why I came out in the first place. What caused the mass outbreak of monsters? There had been more monsters as we neared the Devil’s Sea, and I assumed that this area of waters was the cause. Was the kraken, which supposedly swallowed boats and sailors for the past three centuries, the cause of it all? But if the kraken was around for so long, why did the monsters suddenly turn aggressive now? I feel like I’m missing a few pieces of the puzzle...or rather, something huge...

“Huh? What’s this?” Fol asked as he narrowed his eyes at the kraken. “What the— Did something take a bite out of it?”

Was it eaten?

I channeled my mana to my legs and jumped onto the monster’s corpse in one leap.

“Where?” I asked.

“Whoa?! You scared me!” Fol cried.

What a noisy brute. I stood beside Fol and observed the kraken in its entirety; upon closer inspection, I saw that a part of its large head was gouged out. Just as Fol had said, it looked as though something had taken a bite out of it. My Dark Lance only blew a single hole through the monster, so this other wound definitely wasn’t my doing. Furthermore, the wound had healed itself significantly, meaning that this injury wasn’t recent.

“Something else must’ve damaged it before it became this large,” Carlos guessed. “I cannot imagine a predator that could hunt a kraken of its current size.”

Hmm... He makes a good point. That would be the logical way to look at it, after all, but...

I twitched with surprise. What’s this?

My field of mana radar picked up on something—a mysterious entity that tore through my field like a shark chomping a hole into a net. It possessed such a high level of condensed mana that it sent shivers down my spine; whatever it was, it had plenty of magic to spare. And it was charging at us with incredible speed.

“Guys!” I shouted. “Something’s—”

Before I could even get my sentence out, the chunk of mana rushed past us, beneath our feet.

“Huh?!” I gasped. It...ignored us?!

I turned in the direction of where it was headed when Clinton telepathically sent me his distress signal.

“Lord Lofus!” he wailed. “What in the world is this?! Please help—”

But the communication ended, and Clinton never got another word out. Just then, the familiar that I’d deployed to tag Clinton sent me an SOS signal for only a moment—a mere blip—before vanishing from existence. It was gone.

What just happened? What’s going on? Cold sweat ran down my forehead as I silently glanced around.

“What’s up?” Fol asked as he peered into my face. “Whoa, you’re sweating buckets.”

“You look pale, my lord,” Carlos added, visibly worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Grab your weapons!” I ordered. “This fight isn’t even close to over!”

Beyond the horizon came an ominous cry that sounded like the shrill screech of a warship’s whistle, shortly followed by a wave of powerful, condensed mana that made even me grimace. Half of the sailors fainted on the spot, overwhelmed by the energy, and the other half vomited or were curled up in a ball in a feeble attempt to defend themselves; Log managed to cling onto consciousness, but just barely. Fol and Carlos turned pale, but it seemed they were well enough to clutch their weapons.

“What the hell...” Fol murmured.

“My lord, what is this?” Carlos asked.

“How should I know? I’d like to ask you the same question,” I replied.

I was at an utter loss about this series of events. All I knew was that something terrifying had just surfaced.

I forced Log to his feet and poured a healing potion down his throat.

“Gah?!” he gasped.

He widened his eyes and coughed on the drink; this potion was expensive and was perhaps a bit too much of a luxury for peons, but beggars couldn’t be choosers here. I much rather preferred to use what I had than to be stingy. Log was the only one these sailors would listen to, so I gave him my orders.

“Drag the men inside the ship,” I commanded. “And keep in mind that this vessel may very well sink.”

“What?!” Log gasped. “But... How in the world...”

“Go.”

“Y-Yessir.”

It was a short exchange, but Log immediately went off to carry the sailors into the ship.

Next, I turned to Fol and Carlos.

“Are you both ready to die?” I asked.

Fol flashed a fearless smile. “I ain’t dying. We’re gonna make it back alive—all of us.”

Carlos’s gaze turned fierce. “At your behest, my lord, I shall happily offer my life to you.”

I smiled back at both of them. “Hmph. Just don’t get in my way.”

Another shrill cry of this unknown monster echoed in the air, though luckily, no wave of mana assaulted us this time. It finally surfaced and showed itself—a creature of monstrous size that leaped out of the water and floated in the air. Its enormous fins were outstretched like a pair of wings, and it soared through the sky with its mammoth body as if it were still swimming through the ocean.

It was a good distance away from us, but its immense figure was hard to miss. Its sheer size was overwhelming as its bulging, emerald-green eyes darted around before it focused on us. And its piercing glare was a display of its aggression.

It’s...a massive whale. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.

“What is that?” I murmured. “I’ve never seen anything like it before...”

The creature’s overwhelming pressure eclipsed anything that the Four Fiends could muster. Even from a decent distance away, its almost stupid amount of mana made me paralyzed with awe as I felt its aura prickle at my skin.

What is this monster? It never appeared in the story of my dreams.

✶✶✶

This huge whale that soared through the skies—a Wicked Whale—let out another bloodcurdling cry, coupled with an unbelievable amount of mana. This must be the presence I felt before in Roguebert, I surmised. The Wicked Whale pointed its jade eyes at us and gave another short cry before it unleashed another wave of powerful mana.

“Damn it,” I grumbled.

I released a wave of mana of my own in retaliation. As the two forces collided above the water, the air distorted and a low groan echoed throughout. I channeled more mana into my attack. After a brief standoff, I was ultimately the victor of this clash, and the Wicked Whale’s wave of mana dissipated into the air as my wave pushed forth to attack the monster. The Wicked Whale narrowed its eyes angrily before its jade eyes glared at me.

“Hmph, so, you finally turned to me,” I said. “You’re just a whale with a bit more mana than usual.”

Wizards of the same rank generally never clashed in this way; doing so held very little purpose. The higher one’s mana was, the higher their resistance toward it was as well, so while a high-ranking wizard might feel some discomfort from such a wave of mana, it would do little to no actual damage. This technique was really only effective against vastly inferior enemies. The lower one’s mana was, the more affected they would be by the mana that surrounded them, and this wave would make the difference in power clear.

In fact, a wave dense with mana could paralyze someone who couldn’t use magic at all. The Wicked Whale, with all its magic, could easily knock people out and petrify a majority of its enemies, just as it did to the sailors on the ship earlier. However, it hadn’t accounted for the fact that I was on the ship.

“I’ll make you regret underestimating me even for a second,” I said.

I created countless Dark Balls above the ship, enough to blot out the sky. This was a basic spell, but with my power and mana, I could easily elevate it to the power of an intermediate spell or higher. All of these spheres could easily eviscerate a mountain, and the Wicked Whale’s massive body couldn’t possibly dodge this barrage.

“Disappear,” I ordered.

Countless Dark Balls flew straight for the Wicked Whale, and the monster made no attempt to dodge my attack as the orbs hit its target. Loud explosions rang in the air as Fol and Carlos could only stare.

“Didn’t you mention that we should be prepared to die?” Fol asked as he shot me a dubious glare.

Moron. The battle obviously isn’t even close to over.

Carlos silently kept his eyes on the whale as smoke billowed, firmly gripping his weapon. When the smoke cleared, the Wicked Whale floated about, completely unscathed.

“Impossible...” Carlos murmured.

“Seriously?” Fol muttered.

Neither could believe their eyes, and even I didn’t expect the whale to be unaffected by that flurry of attacks.

I immediately produced an enormous Dark Lance and hurled it at the monster. My lance might have been inferior in overall power compared to the countless Dark Balls, but if I wanted to focus all my power on one point to penetrate an enemy, this lance boasted high piercing power. The spear shot out with impressive speed, but right before it hit the whale, a translucent membrane appeared and blocked my attack. A powerful blast ensued, but it didn’t hit the monster. That’s...

“A magic barrier?” I wondered.

Any high-ranking wizard worth their salt enveloped their body with a magic barrier created from their own mana. I also constantly maintained a barrier of my own. It wasn’t surprising for the Wicked Whale to have one, but its defensive power was astonishing. Even my magic barrier could only fully defend me from intermediate spells, and would crack or shatter under the pressure of anything greater. I could easily take a Dark Ball or two, but a barrage would be tough for me to endure, and my Dark Lance definitely surpassed my own defenses. And yet, this whale...

“It blocked my attack using only its barrier...” I muttered.

Generally, people would struggle to completely defend themselves against my Dark Lance, but the whale managed to do so quite easily.

While I was stunned, the whale let out a mighty roar that caused even the water’s surface to quake. Its cry was so vicious I instinctively covered my ears. I was prepared for another mana wave, but it didn’t come. Instead, I felt the presence of mana within its cry. This isn’t a normal roar... What’s going on?

After a few moments of silence, the ocean rippled, and a horde of monsters burst out of its surface. A swordfish stood at the helm, followed by merfolk, needle frogs, and electric eels. They all jumped onto the deck to threaten us.

“The timing couldn’t be worse!” Fol grumbled as he whirled around and kicked a merfolk into the water.

What timing? They were obviously sent by the whale.

I suspected that the whale’s roar had attracted these monsters, especially since these more aggressive monsters had eyes gleaming a bright red. This scene was reminiscent of the Catastrophe, a phenomenon that made monsters vicious. Does this Wicked Whale have something to do with the Catastrophe which occurred when the Demon Lord was resurrected? No matter the case, it was clear that this whale was involved with the mass outbreak of belligerent monsters.

“My lord, perhaps we should retreat,” Carlos suggested as he cut another monster down.

“We can’t,” I replied.

“Lord Lofus!”

“I’m not staying out of stubbornness. I’m saying that this vessel isn’t capable of outrunning that monster.”

The whale was languidly gliding through the air, but I wouldn’t soon forget how it had overtaken Clinton’s ship in an instant. Compared to this creature, the full speed of this ship was horribly slow. With no means of escape, our only choice was to fight back.

Carlos would’ve struggled if he were against all these monsters alone, but we were fortunate to have Fol with us. This wasn’t the fight against Strafe that I expected, but I was glad that I could focus on casting spells. That blasted whale likely wanted to just view the battle from afar as it called other monsters to do its bidding, but I had some trustworthy fighters on my side as well. If Dark Lance doesn’t work, I just need to go to an even higher-class spell. It hasn’t won just yet. However...

“Huh?”

Just as I attempted to launch another spell, I saw what looked like snowflakes floating around the Wicked Whale. The sparkling, pale-blue snow gathered around to form a spear, and within moments, several large lances of ice crackled around the monster. There’s no mistaking it...

“That’s a spell,” I murmured.

There was no mistaking it; this monster was using a spell. That was impossible—monsters simply weren’t capable of using magic, as it required understanding of magic circles, chants, and magical theory. Spellcasting was a privilege reserved for highly intelligent beings such as humans and spirits, with only the greatest of monstrous creatures like dragons being able to cast anything at all.

“Is that whale on the same level as a dragon?” I wondered.

At the very least, if it was capable of casting spells, it was intelligent. Furthermore, its spell was the intermediate-level Blizzard Lance. I wasn’t sure if it could channel insane amounts of mana like me, but those icicle spears were far larger than normal—each blow would be as mighty as an advanced spell.

And there’re over ten of them.

All the while, the whale continued to create even more. If all of them were launched at this ship at once, we would have nowhere to flee. Even a single one of them could easily sink this vessel.

“It’s planning on killing us and taking the monsters down with it...” I murmured.

It’s intelligent enough to use magic, but completely unethical and barbaric. How fitting for a monster.

“Hey, this is looking bad!” Fol shouted. His cheeks twitched as he watched the Wicked Whale. The boy had seen the power of my Dark Lance with his very eyes, so the whale’s lances were surely an unimaginably frightful sight.

“Focus on the monsters in front of you,” I ordered. “I’ll take care of that.”

You won’t be able to run or defend even if you focused on that attack anyway.

Admittedly, defensive magic really wasn’t my forte. I could block one or two of these Blizzard Lances, but my Dark Shield wouldn’t hold against much more than that.

I’ve got no choice but to use a spell of a higher rank.

I took a knife from my pocket and slightly cut my finger. I watched the droplets of my blood splatter on my own shadow, as I attempted to use an ancient magic that was said to have existed since the time of the gods.

“Reject the living, Gates of Purification,” I chanted.

Just as I activated my spell, the Wicked Whale hurled its dozens of Blizzard Lances at my ship. Less than a moment later, a massive, ominous gate appeared between my vessel and the monster. The gate expelled dark miasma and solemnly stood there. A lance of ice struck the gate, and then another, but it repelled the attacks without a scratch.

I didn’t expect to use my highest-level defensive spell... It was one of my trump cards. I haven’t used ancient magic in two years. And now, I’m forced to use multiple in quick succession...

I cut deeper into my finger and allowed more blood to trickle onto my shadow.

“Reap life, Farmer’s Scythe,” I muttered.

A massive scythe as tall as my own body, colored the darkest of black, appeared in my hand. It was smaller than the intermediate Dark Scythe, but the power this spell contained was unlike any other. Farmer’s Scythe had been passed down through House Lightless, and was even the inspiration from which Dark Scythe was derived. It was the strongest attacking spell that I could use, and a single swing could quite literally rip everything to shreds.

Carlos could only stare in awe. “House Lightless’s Hell’s Gates and the Scythe of Death...”

I’ve never used either spell in front of him, but he knows them very well, even their sobriquets. He’s served our house since my grandfather’s generation, so he must know quite a bit about our legacy.

“Now then,” I said. “Let’s end this, shall we?”

I turned toward the Wicked Whale and swung my black scythe down. Unlike my Dark Scythe, there was no dark blast or slash that flew out of the weapon—no, this ancient spell was quiet and solemn as it simply tore everything in front of it to shreds.

Anything within its trajectory was mercilessly ripped apart—the monsters, the ocean, and even the air. Distance and obstruction meant nothing to this spell, and even magic itself was nullified. My ancient spell sliced through the Wicked Whale’s barrier like a hot knife through butter, shredding the monster’s massive physique.

But the whale must’ve twisted its body at the last second, as rather than being sliced in half, only one of its fins was severed and fell into the water. Fresh blood spurted and gushed out of its wound, and for the first time, the whale let out a scream of agony.

“It’s got good instincts,” I muttered.

Or maybe it’s just desperate to cling onto life.

My initial aim was to slice its body in half, and I certainly hadn’t expected it to dodge. However, the whale hadn’t been completely successful either, as proven by having lost its fin. That said, this scythe that reaped life wasn’t just a spell that could only attack once; it consumed immense amounts of mana, but boasted terrific power and could be used several times in succession. I raised my scythe high in the air again when the screeching whale turned to me.

It had seemed lackadaisical and nonchalant until suffering such a grievous wound, but now it glared at me with clear fury glittering in its eyes. It yawned, its enormous jaws wide, as particles of white light gathered in front. It was clear as day that this whale was trying to unleash its Breath, a powerful blast. Every cell in my body rang in alarm, alerting me that this attack was bad news, and I immediately acted to defend myself.

“Reject the living, Gates of Purification!” I shouted.

The miasmic gates appeared once more. This was my strongest defense; the spell was capable of negating any attack that came its way, but I was still anxious. I deployed five layers of Dark Shields to surround the ship and prepared for the attack just as the Wicked Whale unleashed its mighty, sizzling beam that glowed a bright white.

My Gates of Purification creaked under the impact of the white laser, and though I channeled even more of my mana into it, it was but a drop in the bucket. The gates lasted a few seconds at most before the beam tore through them and penetrated my five layers of shields like they were paper. The attack headed straight for the ship.

“Guh...” I grunted.

Left with no other choice, I instinctively swung my powerful scythe. The Scythe of Death clashed against the white beam, and the powerful blast caused the ocean to rock violently as I just barely managed to divert the trajectory of the attack. A portion of the ship would completely vanish, no doubt causing incalculable damages, but I was at the very least able to avoid total destruction. However, I noticed that the beam of light was headed straight for Fol, who was busy fighting monsters.

Crap... I can’t make it in time. No spell I’ve got can stop that beam.

“Ah...” Fol said like he was in a daze.

He gazed at the light and made no attempt to even dodge it. I couldn’t blame him since I was the one who told him to focus on the monsters. I was the one who said that I could handle the whale alone. I quietly stood there.

What the hell?! I’d confidently and proudly declared that I would handle the whale, but I was unable to stop its single attack. Furthermore, the one who would suffer the consequences was the guy who moved exactly as I ordered. What a sick joke! I’m Lofus Ray Lightless! How can the future heir of the marquess make such an idiotic mistake?!

I channeled all my mana into my legs and left it up to my raw strength as I leaped toward Fol.

“Huh?! What the— Why?!” Fol shouted.

I ignored him, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and used my power enhanced by magic to throw him toward the center of the ship. I turned toward the beam and swung my scythe down.

“O dark, tenebrous one, dimmer than the blackest of void, the coldhearted envoy of God,” I chanted as I channeled more mana into my powerful scythe, boosting its power further. “In your eyes reflects the deep abyss.”

As I chanted, I summoned as many Dark Balls, Dark Lances, and Dark Scythes as I could muster and aimed them all at the white beam that assaulted me. Damn, I didn’t think I’d be forced into this pathetic position where I’m forced to chant! But a spell accompanied by a chant is far more powerful than one without.

The dark spell clashed against the pure white, and for a moment, the power was even...but ultimately, the dark magic couldn’t hold its own. After all that I’ve done, that white beam is stronger, huh? It looks like it’s of the light or fire element anyway. Unfortunately for me, the dark element was laughably weak against those elements, so a direct clash against them was best avoided. Still, I was able to shift the beam’s trajectory even further; the beam went high above us and would just barely scratch the ship. But...

“Lord Lofus!” Carlos screamed in the distance.

I could hear my butler’s voice amid the roar of the whale’s attack, and my vision faded to white. It seemed I couldn’t completely repel the beam away, and in a flash, I was surrounded by light and heat.

✶✶✶

“My lord! Lord Lofus!” a voice echoed.

As my consciousness was still a blur, I wasn’t sure who this voice belonged to, but I knew that only one person in the world referred to me as their lord. He was screaming his heart out as I was slowly brought back to my senses, my vision still blurry. Carlos had drawn me close to him, his face mixed with desperation and just a touch of relief. Fol was a few paces away, his face pale.

Right, I was fighting against the Wicked Whale, and I couldn’t block its attack... How pathetic I must be, I thought.

“How long was I out?” I asked.

“Only a few seconds!” Carlos cried.

“I see...”

I tried to get up, but I couldn’t put any strength into my body. Carlos gently sat me up. The pain was so intense that some parts of my body went completely numb and shut down. I noticed that Fol was white as a sheet, his eyes glued to my left side.

“Y-Your hand...” he murmured through his pale lips.

“Huh?” I asked.

I glanced down at my left arm—it was gone from the elbow down. The wound was blackened by the flame, and there was little to no blood dripping from my injury. And it wasn’t just my arm: The entire left side of my body was burnt and blackened, though I’d still managed to keep my left leg. I could barely put any strength into my body, and I soon realized that I’d lost sight in my left eye. Good grief, I sure got a beating.

I let out a loud sigh. Normally, I would’ve gone mad when I realized that I’d lost my left arm. A person my age might’ve lost their sense of self from the pain and been in a confused panic, unable to process the situation. However, I had already dreamed of my own death tens of thousands of times. This was a minor injury compared to what I’d already experienced. It’s just my left side, and I only lost my left arm. It’s not like my neck was severed or my heart was pierced through. At the very least, the injuries that I sustained were nowhere near fatal.

Sure, I was in excruciating pain, but my ability to adapt was a terrifying one. Carlos and Fol had more normal reactions.

I glanced at the Wicked Whale as it glared at me with frustration. It seemed quite angry that it had failed to finish me off. The fin that I thought I’d sliced off had regenerated completely and was good as new; it wasn’t bleeding from its wound, and there was nary a scratch to its body.

“What’s going on?” I wondered.

Does it have insane regenerative abilities, or can it use healing magic? It can’t be... Healing magic was classified under holy magic, a special type that required faith instead of mana to use. Clergymen were generally users of holy magic, and I couldn’t imagine that a monster choosing such a pious path. Unless this bumbling creature is actually a follower of God... The only other option it had was insane regenerative capabilities. You’re telling me that this whale has the power to pierce through not only the ancient magic that was passed down House Lightless through the generations, but it can instantly heal wounds too? What kind of sick joke is that?

“Fire!” a voice echoed.

As the order filled the air, several blasts rang out as they landed on the Wicked Whale. Its magic barrier seemed to guard the attacks, but the sailors paid no heed as they continued to fire their cannons.

“Must be Log...” I muttered.

He was commanding the sailors. I had told him about how to fight against Strafe and the importance of these cannons before the battle, but his timing was impeccable. This vessel was loaded with gunpowder in preparation for a fight against Strafe, so it’d take a good while before we were all out of ammo. But while this tactic was effective against Strafe, the Wicked Whale had a magic barrier that stopped all attacks. Still, these blasts must’ve been a nuisance, as the monster looked rather annoyed by them. It opened its maw wide once more as particles of light gathered around.

“It’s using that attack again...” I mumbled.

It was preparing for its beam again. I could hardly believe that such a powerful move could be fired in quick succession. Is the technique extremely mana efficient or something? Or does the creature possess absurd amounts of mana like I do? No matter the case, it’s foolish to try to defend against that attack head-on.

“My lord... I’m so sorry,” Carlos said as he turned to me with resignation. “I apologize for my powerlessness.”

What are you giving up for?

“If you’ve got time to say your final prayers, cast me a healing spell or two,” I ordered.

“B-But...” Carlos started.

“It hurts to even talk. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Y-Yes, my lord.”

He cast a healing spell upon me as I was still in his arms. He wasn’t a member of the clergy and could only cast the most basic of healing spells, but it was better than nothing. If I couldn’t even stand by myself, I wouldn’t be able to put up a fight. Fol stared at the Wicked Whale, unable to move a muscle. I used my Dark Hand to hit him on the head.

“Ouch!” he cried.

He turned to me with shock as I smacked his cheek.

“Gah?!” he gasped. “Wh-What the hell?!”

He stammered as he clutched his cheek with tears in his eyes, but I gave him an icy glare.

“Stop lounging around,” I snapped. “Get rid of the monsters, will you?”

“Huh?! B-But that thing’s gonna do the same attack...” Fol started.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. I said that I’d handle that whale, didn’t I? You just focus on the other small fry.”

“But... Ack!”

He tried to approach me, his face red, but I used my Dark Hand to grab his cheeks.

“If I still had my left arm, I would punch you with it,” I said. “Why do you think I let you live? If you feel even a little guilty about having your life spared, hunt down the monsters crawling around the ship.”

“All right, all right!” Fol said. He grabbed his cutlass and rushed toward the monsters that tried to attack us.

“You as well, Carlos,” I said.

“No,” my butler replied. “I can still heal you.”

He continued to cast his magic on me, but I shook myself free of his grip and stood on my own two feet.

“You’ve done enough,” I ordered. “I’ve healed enough to the point where I can stand.”

“B-But your left arm...” Carlos protested.

“Can your measly healing magic regenerate it? I think not. Now then, go on.”

Regenerating a lost limb required the most advanced healing magic, and only the high-ranking clergymen of the church were capable of that. I was out of luck for now. Needless to say, basic healing spells were of little use for the shape I was in. Being able to stand was good enough for now. Carlos continued to try to heal me, but I kicked him away and forced him to face the monsters as I turned back to the Wicked Whale.

The monster was still gathering particles of light; its next attack required more time than the first shot to fire. That was convenient for me since I was able to get some healing done, and I wondered if there was also something like a cooldown before it could fire another round.

“No, that’s not it...” I murmured.

I sense mana that’s even greater than the initial shot. I see... Since I was able to change the trajectory of its first shot, it’s trying to unleash a beam so powerful that I won’t be able to deflect it at all. I noticed that it had also formed dozens of Blizzard Lances behind it as well. Is it going to fire both spells at once? A rather thorough beast, I see.

While this monster required mana to cast both Blizzard Lance and form its white beam, the two had a glaring, fundamental difference. Blizzard Lance was a spell, meaning it required a chant, a magic circle, or some kind of magical process to use mana and form its attack. Spells required technique, implying that one had to be fairly intelligent to cast them. On the other hand, whatever that white beam was, it wasn’t an actual spell. Monsters had mana, a special ability reserved for them, and they produced mana as they required it to function. A famous example of such abilities was the Dragon Breath from dragons, or the Petrifying Gaze from a Basilisk, which could turn anyone to stone.

The Wicked Whale’s white beam attack was likely one such signature ability, but monsters weren’t the only beings blessed with an innate gift. Humans with ample amounts of mana could possess their own signature ability at times, though only a select few among the high-ranking nobles of the kingdom actually had access to this special power. For humans, these were called signature spells, and of course, I had one as well. In fact, it was a special signature spell that was passed down through House Lightless: Shadow Eater.

In the second arc of my dream, when I used my abilities as a member of the Elite Four, this power was responsible for my nickname of Shadow Wolf.

I turned to the floating corpse of the mountain-sized kraken.

“Devour,” I ordered.

An amorphous entity with countless eyes stretched from my shadow, devouring the kraken and turning its body black. It swallowed the corpses of nearby monsters as well, and as they were dyed black, thousands of eyes appeared and darted about as the corpses began to move again. My shadow enveloping the dead monsters healed their wounds; severed torsos were glued back together, and the massive hole my Dark Lance had made in the kraken closed as well. This power allowed me to use corpses to do my bidding. My shadow familiars would continue to regenerate and attack as long as I had my supply of mana; in a flash, I had an army of immortal soldiers that would heal as many times as needed.

In the second arc, I used this power to command a large pack of wolf monsters, and they were one of my main sources of power. Admittedly, this used a ton of mana, so I didn’t like to use this power often. The reason I was defeated by the main character in my dream was because I used a majority of my mana on these shadow familiars and couldn’t use any powerful spells to defend myself.

I used the sea monsters, now my many-eyed familiars, to aid Fol and Carlos.

“Whoa, what?!” Fol shouted as he prepared to fight them. “What the hell are these?!”

“Ah... Not to worry,” Carlos reassured him. “This is my lord’s spell.”

“Is this really a spell? They won’t attack me, will they?!”

Fol glared at the familiars with suspicion. What a rude guy. Sure, they might look a bit creepy, but... I had my large kraken familiar duck under the ship to take care of large monsters. All the while, the mouth of the Wicked Whale dazzled like the sun as though to tell me that it was ready to fire. Looks like I’ve got only a few seconds left. We had no means of dodging its first shot, and I admittedly wanted to show a bit of my own pride as I clashed against it head-on, but I had other strategies up my sleeve. It would be an insult to my image if I let anyone think I only use brute force.

Unlike monsters, wizards had access to impressive power in accordance with their mana, as well as a variety of spells, which allowed for flexible strategies. I won’t let my guard down anymore. Wicked Whale, as much as it pains me to admit it, I shall see you as a formidable foe.

I used what little time I had to chant a full spell so that I could access all of its power. Taste the power of my full chant, advanced spell!

“Lightless!” I finished.

Just as the monsters launched its white beam and its Blizzard Lances, the darkest of voids seeped out from the ship and enveloped it whole. This spell, crowned with my household name, wasn’t used for direct attacks; its only immediate effect was covering an area in darkness. It couldn’t block the Blizzard Lances, much less the piercing, white beam, and the whale took its sweet time to unleash a devastating attack that was more powerful than its initial attack. The beam was more than twice as thick as its initial one, and I guessed that its power was exponentially enhanced as well. But there was no need for me to fight against the mighty beam. My spell, Lightless, had the ability to enhance the power of all of my dark spells.

“Dodge, Strafe,” I ordered.

The massive kraken, buffed by Lightless, obediently followed my orders. It enveloped our vessel with its tentacles and moved us away from the beam’s trajectory.

“Whoaaa?!” Fol shouted as he was almost thrown off the ship from the impact of Strafe, but that was a minor issue for me.

Carlos had braced himself spectacularly and clung onto the ship—a show of his intelligence and usual quick instincts. Lightless quickly spread and permeated throughout the area like an ink blot on paper and enveloped the Wicked Whale as well.

“It’s in my spell,” I muttered. “That creature’s practically a beached whale now.”

The monster’s cry echoed within the darkness. Lightless greatly weakened spells that gave off light, and those who couldn’t use dark magic would feel utterly lost in the thick, impenetrable darkness. Its victims weren’t just blinded; they would be unable to detect or perceive their surroundings through the use of their spells either. In other words, the whale was swallowed whole by my darkness and couldn’t tell where we were.

Naturally, as the caster of this spell, I knew exactly where the monster was. I sank my teeth into my right hand, sending droplets of my blood to splatter into my shadow and melt in the darkness.

“Reap life, Farmer’s Scythe,” I chanted.

After a full chant, I used my ancient spell once more, now enhanced with Lightless. Its power could tear through the azure sky, as my Scythe of Death silently swung down, delivering the final blow without making a sound. My scythe easily tore through the monster’s powerful barrier and sliced the creature in half. A hair-raising scream of agony that could hardly be called a cry filled the air.

I sliced through its lungs and other organs as well; it could hardly let out its usual mighty roar. And yet, it isn’t dying instantly. This monster’s sturdier than a roach.

The whale, now in two clean pieces, was supposed to fall to the ground, but it stopped its plummet with an ominous cry. It remained floating in the air, and before my eyes, the two halves slowly fused back together as though time was moving in reverse.

“Huh?”

Here was a monster in the depths of darkness, floating through the air completely unscathed. It regenerated its severed body?! And that was horrifically quick. Its regenerative abilities made it practically immortal. Even the true ancestors of vampires were only capable of such impressive regeneration because they were undead. A normal creature shouldn’t have been able to regenerate so quickly. As far as I know, at least.

Yet my beliefs were being overturned right in front of me, and trying to rationalize it would do me no good. What was clear was that this Wicked Whale went beyond the realms of common sense.

This monster was large, and it had surely taken a lot of mana to regenerate its wounds. Seeing my opportunity, I prepared to swing my scythe down a second time. I cut down the Wicked Whale as easily as I did the first time, but it regenerated even faster than before. In fact, the healing was so instant that by the time my attack had emerged after cutting through the whale, the point of entry had already closed.

I swung my scythe down a third and fourth time, until I was out of swings. My scythe fizzled into the air, but the whale healed its wound and looked completely unscathed. It had to heal back several fatal wounds, but I couldn’t sense any loss of mana at all; in fact, it regenerated faster every time I managed to wound it. If that massive monster was able to regenerate so quickly, this went beyond my assumptions of mana efficiency. As strange as this might sound, this monster must have infinite mana. Sure, the amount of mana I possessed was said to be greater than anything House Lightless had ever seen, but I still had my limits. I wasn’t confident that I could kill this thing before my mana ran out.

The Wicked Whale let out an angry cry and glared at me.

“Tsk,” I muttered.

I had unleashed my spell multiple times from the same spot; no doubt the whale finally grasped my location. It didn’t even need my exact position—just the general direction, since its beam could eviscerate anything within its line of fire.

As expected, the whale opened its jaws and fired.

“That was quick,” I said.

This time around, the monster barely charged up, likely to not let me escape. But because it fired so quickly, the attack itself wasn’t as powerful as before. The beam was smaller and easier to handle. Lightless also managed to decrease the beam’s power considerably, but even so, it was enough to dish out a fair bit of damage.

“Gh... Strafe!” I called.

The kraken reacted immediately, using its tentacles to drag the ship out of harm’s way—just in the nick of time. We managed to dodge the beam by a hair’s breadth as the attack zoomed past us. We would’ve been done for. Even without charging and being weakened by Lightless, it’s still this strong...

Lightless was capable of negating intermediate light and fire spells altogether, and even the effects of advanced spells were reduced to half, but the beam still boasted impressive power. It must be so powerful that I can hardly weaken it. It didn’t help that the whale began to fire repeatedly in quick succession as though it was throwing a tantrum. It fired wildly in the air, direction be damned. Strafe helped us dodge the occasional beam that came our way, but I was now in no position to counterattack.

A single hit would be the end of us. And it keeps firing over and over. I wasn’t sure if this was a last-ditch attempt on the whale’s part or if it was just annoyed, but it seemed to counter my strategy perfectly. If it fired across a large range, all I could do was focus on dodging, and above all, this beam was effective against Lightless. My spell shrouded the area in dark mist, but the repeated beams through the darkness managed to dispel my Lightless a good deal.

Slowly but surely, with every attack from the whale, the area of Lightless’s effect was growing smaller and smaller. Once my spell’s fully dispelled, it might be all over for me. But I doubt I’d be able to kill it in time, especially with that crazy regenerative speed. And with all these attacks, I can hardly fire back. It annoys me to admit it, but at this rate, my defeat is almost certain. Looks like I’m done for.

“Carlos,” I called.

My butler quietly knelt at my feet. “My lord.”

“I’ll leave this ship to you.”

“And what will you do, my lord?”

“I’ll use the Founder’s Charm,” I said.

Carlos raised his head. “What?! But we’re above the water!”

“Yes, which is why I’m leaving this ship under your care. Stay as far back as you possibly can.”

“Perhaps that’s the only way out of this situation... However, you surely won’t be unscathed, my lord!”

“Indeed. My body will be at risk. So I order you to come save me after everything is done. That is my command. Should I, by any chance, die, I shall turn into a spirit and drag you down to Hell with me.”

Carlos hung his head and covered his face with his hands. “I’m an elderly man with not much life left in me. I didn’t expect to be in this situation...”

“Heh, don’t think you can have a peaceful retirement. I’m gonna have you serve me until your dying breath.”

“Then I pray that time is not upon us. I wish you the best of luck, Lord Lofus.”

He sheathed his rapier and gave me a solemn bow. I huffed proudly, created a large Dark Hand, and leaped upon it. Dark Hand was a spell produced from the caster’s shadow. Naturally, this meant that it generally stretched from the ground and the user could hardly take to the skies or water, but there was a shadow underneath my feet and on the inside of my mantle. I could move the Dark Hand within my mantle exactly how I wished, and it allowed me to float in the air as well. This may have been different from the spell’s initial purpose, but creativity was half the battle when it came to using spells.

I didn’t have to go out of my way to use my mana to fly; it was a huge mana drain, and that did me no favors here. My Dark Hands carried me in the air as I stepped away from the ship. I started my chant to cast the taboo spell of House Lightless: the Founder’s Charm.

“To the ends of the heavens...” I began.

Just then, I heard a gentle tap, implying that someone had stepped behind me. I could feel through my spell that this entity was as heavy as a person, and I whirled around to see Fol with his legs crossed on the ground, gazing up at me.

“’Sup,” he said casually.

He grinned like a child who had successfully played a prank on me, and I glared at the ship with annoyance. The ship, which was sailing away and quickly became smaller, had Carlos out on the deck, his jaw practically hitting the floor with astonishment. Are you telling me that this guy leaped onto me? From that far away?

“Athletic doesn’t begin to describe this feat...” I muttered to myself.

Fol didn’t seem to mind my angry rambling as he peeked through the Dark Hand and saw the water below.

“Huh... So you can fly in the air too, huh?” he asked. “Can all nobles fly?”

“If you’re here to sit back and relax, get off,” I ordered. “You’re in my way.”

“Hell no. Besides, look at you.” He stood up and cheekily pointed at me. “Why’re you trying to go off on your own? You’re missing your left arm.”

“So what?”

“Your butler... Carlos, was it? He bears half the blame too. Why’s he letting you go off by yourself?”

He ran his hand through his hair with annoyance, but frankly, I was the one angered by his thoughtless, silly actions. Why are you the one vexed with me?

“Because he understands the battlefield better than you do, plain and simple,” I replied. “Did you not see my clash against the whale? We’re way out of your league. What could you possibly do to assist me?”

“Sure, I saw it all,” Fol said. “Still...no, precisely because I saw this whole thing, I’m here now. You can barely stand by yourself. I’m not letting you go alone.”

He desperately opined his side, but the whale was dispelling my Lightless as we spoke. I didn’t have much time left, and I didn’t want to waste it speaking with this nitwit.

“Then let me ask you,” I said. “What can you possibly do at this point?”

“Hey, don’t underestimate me too much,” Fol replied.

He immediately approached my left side and supported me with his shoulders as he drew me close.

“What the—” I snapped. “What are you doing?!”

I instinctively tried to shake myself free from his grip, but there was nothing I could do without my arm. As he supported me, I felt my body enveloped with a warm glow. My pain subsided, and a healing light seeped into my body. This power...

“Healing magic?” I wondered.

Fol was able to use a healing spell that was just as potent as what Carlos used on me, if not greater.

“Nice. Just as I thought,” Fol remarked.

“You... Are you a mana user?” I asked.

As the phrase implied, every now and then, an anomaly would be born among the commoners; some were born with the ability to wield mana. The main character in my dreams was one such exception, and it seemed Fol was a person with the same capabilities as well. While I was surprised by this reveal, it made a lot of my questions fall into place. His combat abilities were clearly abnormal, and he had the chutzpah to withstand my mana without batting an eye. In fact, I had a sneaky suspicion that his talent for fighting put him on at least the same level as Carlos, who also enhanced his strength and speed with mana.

“Huh? So this is that mana stuff everyone’s been talking about?” Fol asked, tilting his head to one side with confusion.

Good grief... Did he not realize it himself until now?

“Don’t play dumb with me,” I said. “You clearly used healing magic just now.”

“I’m not playing dumb!” Fol replied. “I only did it because I thought I could, that’s all!”

I let out a deep sigh. “Well, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine by me.”

If he had no clue that he had mana, he wouldn’t have been able to use healing magic. No matter the case, now isn’t the time to play Twenty Questions. The Founder’s Charm required quite a bit of time to prepare, and I wasn’t about to waste this opportunity.

“Enough,” I said. “Do as you like. I’m going to start my chant now, so don’t get in my way.”

“’Kay,” Fol replied. “I can at least be your meat shield.”

He grinned like the cheeky brat that he was, which annoyed me to no end. I created a small Dark Hand from my mantle to flick him on the forehead. He cried out in protest, but I ignored him and started my chant.

“To the ends of the heavens and the depths of the earth, I implore the crystal of naught that seals all of creation. I offer my blood; I desire judgment. May you be tough, resilient, stronger than anything else, so that you can accept all the evil throughout this mortal world...”

A colossal magic circle appeared in the skies above me as my Lightless was dispelled by the whale’s tantrum, and it finally appeared in front of my eyes. The Wicked Whale immediately spotted the magic circle, and it opened its jaws to fire its beam.

“Tsk... Strafe!” I roared.

The kraken, which was clearly much larger than it was when it was alive, burst through the ocean’s surface and attacked the whale with its tentacles. The whale, distracted by my minion, changed the trajectory of its beam, and I used this opportunity to deploy all my shadow familiars against it.

Hm... I feel like I’ve seen a movie with massive monsters fighting like this before... I think I saw it with my father in the royal capital.

All the while, I focused on unleashing my spell. Strafe and my other shadow familiars only lasted a few moments, as the Wicked Whale’s white beam divided into several narrow rays of light that pierced through them. I didn’t think that the beam could be used that way. I could channel my mana to regenerate my minions, but it would deplete my mana considerably, so I decided to leave them dead.

Strafe and my shadow familiars dispersed into the ether like mist, and the Wicked Whale angrily glared at me. I had used quite a bit of mana to buy a couple seconds, but that was all I needed to cast my spell.

“You are the birdcage that seals all of creation. You are the colorless vessel,” I chanted. “You are the argent aurora that defeats even a god. Bring forth the conflagration of destruction that shall paint the land for all of eternity. Unleash your power! Elementless spell, Grand Crystal!”

A crystallized manifestation of mana formed a dome-shaped wall that enveloped the Wicked Whale. It reflected light and glittered beautifully to create a crystal palace. The whale hesitated, realizing that this was different from the dark spells that I had used until now, but it soon tried to launch its beam again. Does it plan to destroy me, crystal dome and all?

“H-Hey!” Fol said, turning pale.

He tried to stand in front of me to be my meat shield. His determination was laudable, but I suspected that his sacrifice would be meaningless in the face of that powerful beam. We would both be eviscerated in seconds...if the attack ever reached us.

“Your attack is futile,” I said.

The whale fired its beam. The white ray pierced through the air and hit the dome, but it couldn’t pierce the crystal. The dome didn’t have so much as a scratch, much less any sort of mana distortion. The whale’s eyes widened, astonished. Is this the first time your attack’s ever been blocked? I wouldn’t be surprised. There aren’t many ways to block something so absurd.

“You...blocked that?!” Fol gasped. “No way...”

He fell to the ground. Hey, keep using your healing spell on me. Though I’ve no need for it now, I suppose. I added another chant as a large, dark sphere emerged within the center of this crystal palace. See, this is the key to this spell—the Black Sun. The whale was clearly alarmed by the Black Sun, but its jaws were pointed right at me. I guess a single failed attempt won’t deter it.

Particles of light gathered in front of its maw. It was taking a fair bit of time to charge, so it must have been preparing to unleash a powerful blast. I ignored Fol, who clutched my mantle with concern, and continued my chant. My Black Sun grew smaller and more condensed as I cast my spell, and I took it very slowly, in no rush at all. As I remained relaxed, the Wicked Whale fired its powerful blast, a thick beam that was mightier than anything that it ever used before. It clashed against the dome, and I could practically hear the air creaking—a sound like a shriek of terror. Even through the air, I could feel the vibrations and impact of that terrific blast, but the crystal palace remained unharmed.

The Wicked Whale’s eyes grew wider, clearly taken aback by this turn of events, and Fol looked equally stunned.

“Dude, if you had something this strong, you should’ve used it from the start!” he remarked.

Hmph, stop talking like you know how this works. The Founder’s Charm isn’t a spell that can be used so casually. I ignored this blithering fool and continued my chant, slowly condensing my Black Sun to a tenth of its original size. Only then was I finally satisfied.

“Now what?” Fol asked.

“Don’t put your hand on my shoulder so casually,” I snapped.

I shook his hand off me and stepped forward to gaze down at the Wicked Whale.

“This spell, Grand Crystal, isn’t one that defends me against an enemy’s attacks,” I explained. “And of course, it isn’t a spell to trap enemies either. Though I’m doing both here, the true purpose of this spell lies elsewhere.”

“Huh?” Fol asked. “Then what’s it actually supposed to do?”

He tilted his head to one side as the whale began to fire wildly into the air once more, just as it’d done to dispel my Lightless. It fired in every direction, trying to happen upon any weak points within my crystal palace. It even tried to attack the condensed Black Sun, but it was safely protected by a crystal barrier that the whale couldn’t scratch.

The whale, now realizing that its efforts were futile, decided to change things up. It turned toward the sky and opened its jaws wide. A large sphere of white light slowly formed above it—almost like the monster intended to compete with my Black Sun with a similar-looking technique. Even from beyond the crystal palace, I could feel an insane amount of highly condensed mana that would make anyone shudder. Damn fish. I didn’t think it had this ace up its sleeve.

“D-Dude, isn’t this pretty bad?!” Fol stammered. He was as pale as a ghost as his eyes were glued on the white orb.

I wonder if this is the whale’s trump card... But too bad for you, I got to play mine first.

“I told you, didn’t I?” I replied. “Its attacks are futile.”

The glowing sphere turned larger and larger as the whale channeled all its mana into its special attack, completely inverse to my shrinking Black Sun. The whale’s mana seemed almost unlimited as I felt its energy, and the white sphere of light truly resembled a sun in the sky as it grew as large as the monster could make it. The whale, fully intending to be caught in the blast, flung its tiny sun at my crystal palace. It exploded into a blinding, brilliant light that truly dazzled like the burning star in the sky as it filled the interior of my crystal palace with a torrent of mana.

Even I could feel the shock wave and impact of the explosion from beyond the crystal palace, and I saw a crack appear on the dome. I wiped the cold sweat off my forehead with a bit of relief. That scared me for a sec... The white orb, likely the whale’s trump card, was more powerful than I thought; though my Grand Crystal spell wasn’t completely finished, the fact that it was able to crack my dome was a feat in and of itself.

When the smoke cleared, I spotted the whale, burned and darkened, still floating in the air. It used its impressive regenerative capabilities to heal its burnt skin, but my crystal palace also closed the crack just as quickly. Though what Grand Crystal is doing isn’t exactly “healing;” the spell simply uses my mana liberally so that it can always attain its perfect form.

The healed Wicked Whale glared at me when it noticed that the damage it had dealt was undone. And so, I decided to offer it some praise and hearty laughter.

“Fantastic performance!” I commended. “I suppose I can laud you for that. You’re the strongest enemy that I’ve ever faced.”

Ultimately, I hadn’t the faintest clue what this whale was, only that it was absurdly strong. In fact, it might’ve been stronger than the hero and his forces who killed me. In terms of raw power, I presumed that this whale was stronger than Demon Lord Lars, the initial Demon Lord that resurrected in the first arc, and the second Demon Lord, Raymond, who rebelled against the kingdom in the second arc.

“As a sign of respect to you, why don’t I tell you what I’m about to do?” I offered. “You’re intelligent enough to cast spells, so you understand the human language, don’t you?”

High-ranking dragons could understand the human language. Since this whale could cast spells that required the understanding of magic—something far more complex than human speech—I assumed that it would comprehend my words. I’m not sure if it can speak back to me, though.

“I mentioned this earlier, but Grand Crystal isn’t a spell to block the enemy’s attacks, nor is it to confine an enemy in a space,” I explained. “Its actual role is to defend everyone else from its own attack.”

Fol furrowed his brows with confusion, but the whale froze in seeming realization. Horror was clear in its eyes as its jade gaze darted toward the Black Sun.

“Oh? Astute, aren’t you?” I asked.

There’s no doubt about it: This thing understands the human language.

The Black Sun, which condensed itself into a tight ball, began to show pale-blue cracks on its surface. My Grand Crystal, filled to the brim with my mana, also emitted a faint blue glow. The whale, instantly recognizing the change, created countless white orbs to hurl at my palace.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” I said. “My spell is finally finished. Oh, and that move you showed earlier? It won’t work. Even God cannot break the finished crystal palace.”

But the whale clearly refused to give up. It formed its sphere, but instead of detonating it, the monster opened its maw and swallowed its own move. The ball of light became condensed within the monster’s mouth and shot out as a powerful, penetrating ray that focused all its energy into one point.

“What in the world...” I muttered.

I didn’t think that it was skilled enough to do something like that. I could easily guess how powerful and terrifying this condensed ray was, and there was another rumbling explosion that made the earth quake. But even then, the whale failed to lay a scratch on my glowing crystal palace. For the first time, I noticed what looked like panic appear on the whale’s face, and the corners of my lips curled upward as I proudly gave an explanation of my spell.

“This will be my parting gift to you,” I said. “See, this spell actually comes with what I can only call an idiotic legend. Apparently, my ancestor was playing around with his dark magic by condensing the atmosphere—it was like a game to him—when he accidentally created this spell. Wicked Whale, do you know what happens when the atmosphere becomes compressed?”

The whale, understanding the implication of my words, turned to the Black Sun and began firing its beams like mad. There was no rhyme or reason to its attacks anymore; it had been reduced to a wild beast going berserk in a desperate cling to life. In a last-ditch effort, it began to slam its body against the crystal, physically trying to get as far away from my sun as it could. You couldn’t make a dent with your signature beam attack or even your ace, that white orb. You think you can crack my crystal by ramming into it? But...judging by its reaction, does it know what’ll happen? Does it have an active imagination, or is it just running on pure instinct from sensing the danger?

“Wh-What happens?” Fol asked gingerly, fearing my response.

I noticed the ship a good distance away. They should be out of range by now. My Black Sun—air and atmosphere that was enveloped by my dark magic and forcibly compressed and condensed by my mana—was as compressed as it could be. The moment it was released, the destruction that it could cause was incalculable, devastating enough to break the very fabric of logic. The crystal palace was created precisely to keep the destruction confined into a small field. Ironically, the Grand Crystal took up more of my power than my Black Sun; I needed to channel more mana into defending than attacking. I gazed down at the whale.

“The compressed atmosphere is powerful enough to kill a God,” I recited quietly. “It brings forth a white flame.”

As cracks ran through my Black Sun, my entire Grand Crystal was shrouded in light. My vision was obscured by a blinding white, and the deafening roar was so overwhelming that I thought my eardrums ruptured. The white flame that would destroy the world let out its cry like a newborn baby above the ocean. And when the light finally faded from within the crystal palace, it was completely empty. Not a cell of the Wicked Whale nor a drop of seawater remained within the dome. After fulfilling its role, Grand Crystal dissipated into the ether. A hot gust of wind escaped, grazing the Devil’s Sea.

Grand Crystal and Black Sun were an inseparable pair of spells, forming a combined technique called the Founder’s Charm. However, this glorious spell actually had two glaring flaws. First, it required an absurd amount of time to activate, making it impractical in combat. And second...

“Huh? Hey!” Fol cried.

I felt all the strength leave my body as I leaned on Fol for support. I could only see through my right eye, but even then, my vision had begun to fail me. The second flaw was that it required an astronomical amount of mana, leaving the caster exhausted. I was heralded as the boy born with the most amount of mana that House Lightless had ever seen within the household’s lengthy history, yet casting the Founder’s Charm required half of every bit I could store.

I’d already depleted a good chunk of mana using several ancient spells, which required ample mana to begin with, as well as an advanced spell. My signature spell of attacking with my shadow familiars was yet another strain. Combine that with the several basic and intermediate spells I’d used without holding back even once, and I was completely out of mana—my exhaustion was proof of that. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to move for a while. I’ve never suffered from mana exhaustion before.

I knew in advance that this would probably happen, which was why I’d asked Carlos to come save me, but I actually hadn’t anticipated total depletion. I couldn’t move a muscle, and the vast ocean stretched out below me. I’d say I’ve got a fifty percent chance of making it back alive, and that’s being optimistic. For better or for worse, Fol’s with me, though I’m not sure if he’ll turn the odds in my favor or against it... This guy hates nobles, so I shan’t be surprised if he abandons me.

“I’m going to sleep for a while,” I said.

“What?! Now?! What in the...” Fol cried.

I didn’t wait for his response. My Dark Hand fizzled away as Fol and I fell to the ground. My vision faded to black as his scream echoed in the distance.

4. Drifting at Sea and the Warmth of People

A massive amount of seawater was evaporated by the Black Sun’s aftermath heat, enough to create a downdraft which easily changed the weather on the ocean’s surface. The spell itself had also gouged out a big chunk of the ocean, and seawater rushed in to fill the space. The waves naturally turned choppy and violent as strong wind and rain assaulted anyone in the area.

The sunny weather was immediately painted over with storms as powerful gusts blew throughout. This was a miscalculation on Lofus’s part, as the Founder’s Charm of House Lightless had never been cast upon the sea before. The boy had never experienced nor been taught that a single spell could seemingly change the weather in a flash. He’d also made one more glaring error: Fol. This young man had tagged along with young Lofus and was born a sailor. Fol could swim as easily as he breathed, and carrying another person in the water was a simple task for a man like him; unfortunately for him, the weather was not on his side. Strong winds hindered his vision, and he was in the Devil’s Sea, no less. There wasn’t any land nearby, and of course, there weren’t any ships either.

In the face of relentless nature, a single person’s effort was futile at best, even if this person had mana and could enhance their physical capabilities. Assaulted by the stormy, violent waves, Fol braved through the ocean with an unconscious Lofus in his arms, doing his best to offer any sort of resistance. Fol barely managed to pop his head above the surface of the turbulent sea to fill his lungs with oxygen.

“Hey! Wake up!” he urged. “You’re gonna die!”

Try as he might, Fol’s words went unheard as the young heir of House Lightless remained as still as a corpse. The mana exhaustion had forced the boy into a slumber too deep to be disturbed. It didn’t matter how loud Fol shouted; even if Lofus’s limbs were torn off, he likely wouldn’t awake. Fol, who didn’t know of mana exhaustion, continued to desperately shout to shake Lofus awake.

All the while, a giant wave towered over the pair and slammed into them. The vicious water swept Fol away, and he could hardly breathe as he was washed into the distance. He struggled to keep a grip on the unconscious Lofus; at this rate, Fol would lose his own life, and protecting the young Lightless should’ve been the least of his priorities. Even so, Fol refused to let the boy out of his grip. It was as though forsaking the marquess’s son was never an option to begin with. Even if the devil whispered into Fol’s ear, urging him to let the boy go, the young sailor didn’t entertain that thought for even a moment.

Lofus was a noble—a haughty, villainous one that Fol despised the most. The young Lightless was rude and proud, and didn’t hesitate to insult commoners as “peons.” If there was something that annoyed him, he didn’t hesitate to use his magic to silence others and get his way. Indeed, he was the manifestation of every single characteristic that Fol absolutely loathed.

Still, he was obviously different from Clinton. Lofus might have been annoying, but he never stooped to rock bottom. His words were insulting and crass, but he never attacked the citizens of Roguebert, nor did he try to kidnap any of them. On the contrary, he eagerly attempted to subjugate the monsters that were tormenting the village, and he never made an attempt to flee, no matter how powerful the monster was. He faced them all head-on, completely undeterred.

Not once did Lofus attempt to use the sailors—these commoners—as meat shields. In fact, he risked his own life to protect others from attacks, and even after losing an arm, he continued to protect everyone and face the monster valiantly. The results were the very proof of his actions; not a single sailor had become a casualty in this grisly battle. This sort of courage was completely unlike anything Fol had ever seen. After all was said and done, how in the world could he possibly abandon Lofus? And so, despite the roaring, tumultuous waves, the sailor refused to let the noble out of his grasp.

No doubt Lofus would later claim that he’d acted all for his own gain and never once considered using his powers for the sake of others. He’d surely mock anyone conceited enough to “misunderstand” what he had done. But the results spoke volumes. He’d defeated the horrible monster that plagued Roguebert, and not a single sailor had died in this campaign. This outcome was all Fol needed to remain firm in his convictions.

He couldn’t possibly leave Lofus alone. Above all, this noble had protected Fol from a fatal blast—at the cost of an arm, no less. Fol had wished to be of use and, by some sort of miracle, managed to cast healing magic to aid the boy. Fol had never really realized that he was a mana user, and even if he was blessed with natural talents, his ability to use healing magic was nothing short of a miracle. Unfortunately, that spell wouldn’t be of any use within the stormy waves.

Did Fol’s strong determination touch the heavens or some deity above? No one could say. But what was certain was that another miracle befell him when he spotted a seahorse with a pale-blue glow in the corner of his eyes. The creature swam through the rough weather elegantly, completely unaffected. Fol wondered if it was a monster, but the creature never made any attempt to attack and exhibited no aggression at all. Instead, it acted almost as a guide, gliding through the waters in front of Fol.

Every now and then, the seahorse would turn around as though to imply that Fol should follow it. The young man mulled over his choices for a few moments before deciding to swim after the seahorse with Lofus in his arms. Perhaps he was being lured into a trap, but the two boys were already fated to drown if they remained where they were. Mysteriously, this seahorse emitted a sort of warmth that was reminiscent of healing magic. Fol couldn’t be certain, but the seahorse didn’t seem like an enemy. And as he swam after the creature, he noticed that the rocky waves slowly settled down, and the icy water that stung his skin gradually grew warmer. It was then that Fol’s nerves finally reached their breaking point as his consciousness slowly drifted away with the waves.

✶✶✶

Fol woke up with a start. He swiftly sat up and saw the white sands and the gentle waves licking the shallow areas of sand before receding. He had been washed ashore on some sort of island. Much to his relief, he soon spotted Lofus lying on the sand not too far away. The sailor grabbed the young noble’s shoulders and tried to shake him awake.

“Hey!” Fol said. “Wake up already... Huh?”

At once, he froze and felt the blood drain from his face. Lofus’s body was icy to the touch, and he wasn’t breathing.

“What?” Fol murmured. “No, you’ve gotta be kidding me...”

He quickly turned Lofus over, making the noble face the sky, and removed his mantle that was heavy with seawater. Placing an ear over Lofus’s chest, he caught an ever-so-faint heartbeat. The beating was so quiet and frail, it felt like it could be snuffed out at any moment.

“He’s still alive... I can still make it in time,” Fol murmured.

He climbed atop Lofus and began doing chest compressions. Fol had been raised a sailor and knew quite a few first aid and resuscitation techniques. He’d saved drowning people several times before and knew that the most important thing to do was to keep calling their name in hopes that they’d snap back to consciousness. Those who stood on death’s door had to be called back so that they could return to the land of the living; otherwise, the Witch of the Waters, who took home in the darkness where drowned humans fell, would use her sweet words to coax them to her side. If there were any delay, the Witch of the Waters would devour the human’s soul.

It was an ancient legend that had been passed down within Roguebert, and Greig repeated the tale so many times to his son, Fol, that the boy was able to recite it all from memory. Fol knew that it was just a story, but he nonetheless understood that it was vital to keep calling the victim’s name.

“Come on! Come back! Lo—” Fol started.

He froze for a moment. Wait, what was this guy’s name again? Fol wondered. Only then did he realize that the two hadn’t even exchanged a proper greeting, much less called each other by name. The butler had occasionally called his master’s name, but the elderly man generally resorted to using “my lord” which didn’t help jog Fol’s memory. As it stood, he couldn’t call Lofus’s name, meaning that the noble couldn’t be brought back from death’s door. His soul would be devoured by the Witch before long.

“Dammit! That’s just a stupid story!” Fol growled. He shook his head as though to offer himself a peace of mind. “Heh... I really know nothing about this kid...”

Even though he saved my life... Fol thought as he flashed a self-deprecating smile while he continued to tirelessly do chest compressions. Unfortunately, Lofus’s consciousness didn’t return and he still didn’t breathe.

“Argh! Damn!” Fol shouted. “Don’t complain to me later!”

He pinched Lofus’s nose and began giving mouth-to-mouth, offering some artificial respiration. The noble might grumble about such audacity later, but it was better than him dying. Fol continue to do chest compressions and give mouth-to-mouth.

After a while, Lofus coughed up seawater and had a coughing fit. His breathing soon returned, and Fol breathed a sigh of relief, but the boy’s consciousness still didn’t return.

“Why won’t you wake up?” Fol asked. “Did the Witch...”

He turned pale when he spotted a pale-blue entity floating in his peripheral. He turned toward it and spotted a familiar friend.

“You...” Fol murmured.

The seahorse that had guided the pair to these sands in the middle of the stormy sea now floated in the air, bobbing up and down as though it were still swimming within the water. Only then did Fol recall that he and Lofus had been thrown into the area known as the Devil’s Sea—there weren’t any convenient islands around, at least none shown on any maps the people of Roguebert had kept since ancient times. The utter lack of land, coupled with the blank horizon that made one lose their sense of direction, was a recipe to make many sailors lost at sea. And the devil that devoured ships was the final blow to many unwitting voyagers. The Devil’s Sea was named for all of these factors.

Then how in the world did the pair wash ashore? The ocean might have been turbulent, but they couldn’t have possibly been washed away from a large region of the sea. If Fol hadn’t drowned, it implied that he hadn’t drifted at sea for too long. He scratched his head with confusion, when the seahorse once again swam through the air, heading for a rocky area by the shore. There was a small cave within the rocks. The seahorse glanced back at Fol, turning around every now and then expectedly, before slipping into the opening.

“Am I supposed to follow you?” Fol asked.

He carried Lofus on his back and chased after the seahorse. While Fol had no idea where he was, he knew that it was thanks to the seahorse’s guidance that they were still alive and on land. With no reason to hesitate, he chased after the creature. When he finally managed to enter the cave, a marvelous view entered his eyes.

The cave was spacious. In the middle was a temporary bed of sorts—made from the fur of some sort of monster—and in the corner was some driftwood stacked in a neat pile. There was even some flint and the remains of a fire. It was as though someone used to live here, as the bare minimum of necessities was all set.

Fol gave the seahorse a confused glance.

“This isn’t your place...is it? Can’t be...” he muttered.

It seemed rather unlikely that a seahorse, which usually resided in the ocean, would live like a human on land. Fol glanced around the space, still vigilant, but there was no presence of anyone nearby, and the ashes from the fire seemed quite old and as though they had been undisturbed for some time. No one had been here for a while. Fol first placed Lofus on the fur rug before he grabbed the bit of flint.

“Looks like it’s still usable...”

He glanced at the driftwood that didn’t seem at all damp. It was dry enough that it could be used to start a fire, and there was more than enough to keep a roaring flame. All of this seemed way too convenient, and while Fol felt a twinge of anxiety, he decided to prioritize the fire and knocked the pieces of flint together, causing sparks to fly. He neatly piled the bits of driftwood, and though it took some time, he was finally able to start a blaze.

“I’m sure this could be done in a flash with magic,” he grumbled.

Sure, he was used to starting fires, but magic was capable of producing water and fire seemingly out of thin air. To commoners, such power was worthy of respect and fear.

“Speaking of, I guess I’m a mana user too.”

At least, the young noble had called him one, and he was able to use healing magic simply by seeing it once.

Fol felt some eyes on him, and he turned to the seahorse. It looked satisfied, like its role was over, and it gently floated within the cave. The seahorse’s identity and goal were still a mystery, but thanks to it, the two boys were saved.

“You really saved us. Thanks,” Fol said.

He wasn’t sure if the seahorse heard or understood his gratitude, but it didn’t react and continued to float about.

Lofus lay on the ground, but he still didn’t open his eyes. Thanks to the fire, the cave was warming up nicely, and Fol removed his wet clothes and wrapped himself up in a warm fur pelt. Assuming that Lofus must’ve warmed up as well, Fol reached for the noble to check the boy’s temperature.

“Huh?” Fol murmured.

Lofus’s body was still cold to the touch. He was breathing, but it seemed like he was paler than before.

“Why?”

The young sailor began to panic. He wasn’t sure why Lofus’s condition wasn’t improving, but it was likely due to mana exhaustion, leaving the young noble terribly frail, weak, and susceptible to factors that ate away at his stamina. He was so weak that he could barely control his own body temperature well, but Fol, ignorant to all these facts, could do nothing but work with what he did know. What do I do? he wondered. He jogged his memory and turned to his experience when he recalled a lesson that his father once gave.

“When you gotta save someone’s life, there’re times when their body remains cold, unable to generate heat,” Greig had said. “When that happens...it’s too late, honestly. Just finish them off as an act of mercy and throw them back into the ocean.”

“Huh? You wanna know how to save them? Hm, well, I guess human warmth? Sit close to them and spend a night sharing your warmth with them. If you’re lucky, they’ll come back. And a woman’s better than a man for keeping warm—they’ve got a higher body temperature. In fact, Log was conceived after my near-death experience. When I was younger and almost drowned, your mom warmed me up all night, and— Hey! Gah! What the hell?! I’m being serious here!”

“I didn’t need that stupid memory...” Fol muttered. “Warmth, huh...”

The lordling would surely scream at Fol for his insolence...but he’d have to wake up first. Fol would worry about any issues then.

“I won’t let you die,” Fol said.

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his heart. One could easily imagine Lofus turning irate when he awoke and might even attempt to murder the young sailor on the spot, but Fol didn’t mind. That was far preferable to the boy dying. And so, Fol removed all of his damp clothes.

“Women have higher body temperature, huh...” Fol muttered. “Then it’s a good thing I’m a woman.”

Fol unraveled the cloth around her chest, which allowed her to look like a man, and drew her body close to Lofus, who was trembling slightly. She huddled close and shared her warmth with him. Fol took the fur pelt and wrapped it around both of them, and as the cave grew warmer, she found herself slowly whisked off to dreamland. The pale-blue seahorse quietly floated about the cave and watched the pair.

✶✶✶

According to Lofus’s dream, the hero’s forces consisted of the main character, of course, and several heroines. Each of them were skilled enough to do the work of a thousand soldiers, and this small, elite group stood in the spotlight.

The first arc contained a story about Roguebert, the fishing village near the ocean. When Sea Monster Strafe was subjugated, a certain heroine joined the main character’s group—Faltiana Roguebert. She was a tomboy and a female sailor who despised nobles to an almost absurd degree. Ever since her childhood friend was abducted by Clinton’s soldiers, she loathed every noble she saw. She especially sought revenge against House Lightless who had employed Clinton, and her grudge ran deep.

In the second arc, during the battle against the Elite Four, she fought against the eldest son of House Lightless, Shadow Wolf Lofus. She showered the boy with mockery and insults as she made her hatred toward him more apparent than anyone else, and attacked him mercilessly. However, this was a scenario that would’ve only occurred if Lofus hadn’t tried to meddle with his fate. But Lofus had changed this future, and Faltiana—Fol—had been saved by the noble of House Lightless instead of the hero.

Needless to say, Lofus had zero intention of saving Faltiana—quite the opposite, really. In his dream, he’d been killed countless times by her and her furious attacks, and so he had a very negative impression of her. Lofus had failed to recognize Fol as Faltiana mainly because the tale in his dreams occurred three years in the future. Fol was still young and lacked womanly qualities, making her seem androgynous. While Lofus didn’t intend to save Faltiana, if his primary goal was to prevent his future death, this outcome was rather favorable for him.

However, there were those in the world that couldn’t accept this result. Lofus was right to fear the future where he was killed countless times by others; there were people who absolutely despised nobles and House Lightless. Faltiana’s soul was one such entity that simply couldn’t accept the fact that Fol risked her own life to save Lofus. The boy was the mortal enemy and traitor of humanity; the boss of the heartless man who trafficked her childhood friend. And so, Fol’s spirit was called out to head to Faltiana’s spirit realm, where the former had to convince the latter to grant mercy toward this noble.

✶✶✶

When Fol opened her eyes, she found herself in a blank space. The entire place was enveloped in white, and in front of her was an unconscious Lofus lying on the ground. A sharp blade was clutched in her hand.

“Kill him,” a voice echoed in her head.

The voice sounded eerily similar to her own, which only upset her further. She tried to cast the knife away, but the hilt was seemingly glued to her hand and refused to leave her grip.

“Why?” Fol asked.

“He’s a noble, the worst of mankind,” the voice replied. “Norn was sold into slavery because of that man.”

Norn was the name of the childhood friend who was kidnapped by Clinton and his soldiers around half a year ago.

“The hell are you on about?” Fol asked. “Clinton’s the one to blame. This kid’s a noble, sure, but he’s got nothing to do with the kidnapping.”

“Wrong,” the voice replied. “He and Clinton are working together. After all, that child’s name is Lofus Ray Lightless, the eldest son of House Lightless.”

“What? Lightless?”

Fol’s mind went black. Lightless was the name of a major noble household that ruled over this entire land. Clinton’s soldiers had often used this name to threaten the people of the village, saying that House Lightless would be infuriated if the villagers so much as dared to raise a hand in defiance. According to them, House Lightless would appear with a massive army and burn the entire village to cinders. House Lightless was the mastermind, so to speak—the employer of the loathsome Clinton, and the source of all evil.

“H-He’s a Lightless?!” Fol gasped. “That can’t be... He saved us! He saved Roguebert!”

“Don’t be fooled,” the voice replied. “His true nature is one of pure evil. He doesn’t care about others. Everything he does is to satisfy his own vile greed, nothing more.”

“He...did mention something like that before we set sail.” Fol recalled Lofus saying that he was acting for the sake of the Lightless fief, and by extension, himself. “I see... This kid’s a Lightless...”

She couldn’t help but tighten the grip around the blade. As she pointed the tip close to Lofus’s neck, she heard the voice in her head scream with excitement.

“Do it!” it urged. “Stab him and kill him! It’s the only way to avenge Norn!”

In the story’s third arc—the Alchemic Empire chapter—Faltia would see Norn again...but their reunion was far from a warm one. Norn had been sold off as a slave and was forced to undergo numerous extreme human experiments within the empire. When the main character and his forces found her, she’d already been transformed into a horror with little left of her former self.

Lofus, the eldest son of House Lightless, had already been killed during the battle against the Elite Four by then, so Faltia had nowhere to turn her anger to. She was overcome with anger and grief.

Needless to say, Fol knew not of this future, and she stopped the blade just shy of Lofus’s throat before forcibly casting her weapon aside.

“Huh?” the voice asked, clearly confused. “Wh-What are you doing?”

Fol shot a glare. “Norn might’ve been taken away, but she ain’t dead yet. Don’t feed me your crap.”

“Huh? No, I’m referring to the future...”

“The future? What the hell are you on about? That sounds like complete bullshit; why should I even believe that this kid is really from Lightless?”

“No! That man is undoubtedly Lofus of House Lightless! He’s a conniving, cowardly boy, and my—no, our enemy!”

“Conniving? Cowardly? Listen, I don’t know who you are, but what do you know about him?”

In Fol’s eyes, Lofus was a man who never turned his back on a monster, no matter how strong, and even sacrificed his left arm to save her. He salvaged her hometown and even her own life. She owed a great deal to her savior, and she wasn’t about to take insults toward him lying down.

“You’ve only known him for a short while!” the voice insisted. “You don’t know his true nature yet.”

Indeed, Fol and Lofus had only known each other for half a day, at most. But that short amount of time was more than enough for Fol to learn of Lofus’s character and his bravery.

“No matter what you say, he saved my life,” Fol said.

“Abel is the man who will save Roguebert and us,” the voice insisted. “Not the boy from House Lightless.”

The voice was clearly filled with frustration, but Fol coldly spurned it.

“Roguebert was saved by this kid, and no one else,” Fol declared. “I’ve never even heard of this ‘Abel.’”

At once, cracks ran through the white space. It crackled and crumbled away, and no longer did her voice fill her head.

Fol slowly opened her eyes. She realized that her hands were wrapped around the slender neck of Lofus within the fur pelt, and she hastily released him from her grasp. When she saw that there weren’t any marks on his neck, she let go of the breath she’d been holding.

“The hell was that?” she muttered. “Some kind of demon sent to give me a nightmare?”

She wasn’t able to recall her dream much, but she knew that it left a bad taste in her mouth. When she realized that Lofus had warmed up somewhat, she breathed a sigh of relief and buried her face in his chest.

“Are you really from House Lightless?” Fol asked. “You’re Lofus, right?”

She peppered her unconscious friend with questions, knowing full well that she wouldn’t receive a response. She continued to mutter to herself. Lofus was usually overbearing, proud, and haughty, but when he lay on the ground unconscious, he looked so terribly frail and small. When he was asleep, he looked like an adorable child fitting for his age, and Fol realized that she’d insulted and mistreated this young child simply for his noble birth. And it was this same, tiny kid who had saved her and her hometown.

“Ugh... What am I doing?” Fol wondered.

Hoping to distract herself from the overwhelming guilt, she drew herself close to Lofus and huddled with him.

✶✶✶

I feel awful, I thought. My body hurts, my head hurts, my left arm’s gone, and I can’t see out of my left eye. I haven’t felt this awful since the nightmare where I was killed countless times.

My consciousness returned, but my body obviously refused to move. I couldn’t even sit up. My eyes darted around my surroundings; I spotted a roaring fire and the rocky wall illuminated by the flickering flame. I heard the sound of waves continuously splashing in the distance. Am I in a cave near the shore or something?

Luckily, it seemed I was still alive. When I’d checked the map before my fight, there weren’t any convenient islands near the Devil’s Sea, so I wasn’t quite sure where I was. Did I drift ashore, only to be saved by a resident of the island? Where’s Fol? Did he wash onto shore with me? A myriad of questions filled my mind, but I decided to first rejoice at the fact that I was still alive. Damn Carlos. I told him to come save me. How dare he not be by my side when I open my eyes? The next time I see him, I’ll give him a harsh scolding.

Just then, I felt a shiver and turned to the edge of the cave. I jolted with astonishment when I saw a pale-blue seahorse floating about. I knew this creature very well.

“Lunamaar?!” I gasped. “Why are you here?!”

This creature with a pale-blue glow was in the shape of a seahorse and floated through the air, but it wasn’t a monster. It was tiny, but it contained an immense amount of mana; Lunamaar was a high-ranking water spirit that ruled over the sea. And within the tale of my dream, wherever Lunamaar was, a certain someone would always be near...

“If you’re here, that means— Gah?!” I grunted.

I tried to sit up, but I writhed at the excruciating pain that assaulted my left side. I thought I was used to pain after dying hundreds of thousands of times, but I wasn’t immune to it. My body hurt and refused to move. But I’ve got to! If Lunamaar is here, it means she’s nearby...

“Gah... Gr...” I groaned.

As I tried my best to endure the pain, the blanket—though this fur pelt was too dirty to be called one—wrapped around me began to wriggle and move. When the blanket was removed, a girl who practically wore nothing at all appeared before my eyes. She looked exhausted, but when she saw me, she was visibly relieved.

“You’re awake...” she said.

My eyes grew wider than ever before as I was taken aback by this girl—I knew this wench’s face very well. This was three years before the start of the tale, so she looked a touch younger, but her golden hair and jade eyes were striking and difficult to forget. The most decisive factor was that she was traveling with the water spirit Lunamaar.

She was one of the heroines in the story, and the woman who hated me more than anyone. With Lunamaar as her partner, she was the female sailor possessed by a spirit.

“Faltiana Roguebert...” I gasped.

I instinctively sat up and tried to create a Dark Ball in my hands, but no spell came out and I coughed up blood.

“Gah...” I groaned.

Dammit! Is this because of my mana exhaustion? I didn’t have enough mana to cast any spells, and my body rejected my command. I can’t believe I haven’t recovered enough to use a simple, basic spell. My mana must be recovering at a much slower rate than usual. Gah! Where’s Fol?! If I’m left alone with this dangerous woman, I won’t escape in one piece. She’s gonna kill me!

“Huh?! You all right?!” Faltiana cried.

She looked shocked that I’d coughed up blood, and started to rub my back. What is she thinking? Why does she look so worried? You’re the crazy woman who showered me with unreasonable insults! Why’re you even here? Is this the continuation of my dream where I die over and over again?

“Stay away!” I spat through my pain. “You’re planning on killing me, aren’t you?”

“Wh-What?!” Faltiana cried. “Oh, you mean when I choked you? Were you conscious then? Dude, I’m really sorry about that. I had this weird dream... I’m the type that moves around in my sleep, y’know.”

She averted her gaze and tried to come up with excuses. She didn’t seem to pay any mind to the fact that she was also completely naked. First of all, cover yourself up! Have you no shame? And did she just say that she tried to choke me out while I was asleep? I knew it. She’s putting on an act to get my guard down. But then why didn’t she kill me? She had the opportunity when I was knocked out. Does she know that I’m suffering from mana exhaustion? She knows that I can’t fight back with magic. Does she want to torture me before she finishes me off? Someone as brutal and merciless as Faltiana was certainly capable of that. I quickly checked my body for any other injuries.

“Uh... Huh?” I muttered.

For some reason, there were signs of my body having received first aid, though it was a rather clumsy attempt: bandages and ripped cloth tied around my wounds. I turned to my missing left arm; the gaping wound on my elbow was tied by a familiar bandanna. There was no mistaking it. The old, crass bandanna belonged to none other than Fol, and the bits of cloth that were tied around my wounds likely came from his outfit as well.

What’s going on? Did Fol treat me, leave me behind with Faltiana, and vanish? I doubt Faltiana took his outfit to treat me... What’s going on? Why am I in this situation?

I remained wary when Faltiana, all too late, realized that she was naked. She grabbed the fur pelt from me and draped it around her to hide her front, her cheeks flushed pink as she glared at me.

“Hey, stop staring,” she grumbled.

I’m not. And stop making that face—that one where the usually tough heroine shows her embarrassment and bashfulness only to the main character. Don’t think you can seduce me, you lunatic. You killed and insulted me countless times! This coy and reserved act seriously does nothing for me.

“I’m surprised you know my, er, real name,” she said.

“Huh?” I asked.

“You called me ‘Faltiana,’ didn’t you? Did my brother—no, did pops tell you? C’mon, spill it. If you knew, I didn’t need to act like a guy, y’know?”

“Your brother? Your pops? Acting like a dude? What are you on about?”

I stared blankly at her, unable to process her words for a few moments. Wait, now that I think about it, she vaguely resembles Fol...

“Huh?”

Only then did it hit me. Not once did I doubt Fol until now, but on closer inspection, Faltiana’s piercing gaze and her petite frame resembled a familiar guy. She...reminds me of Fol.

“Y-You’re... N-No.” I stammered. “That can’t be...”

“Hey, no need to be that shocked,” Faltiana replied.

I gazed up, unable to fully process my surprise. Yeah, I did think Fol was pretty petite among the burly men, but... He was so young, so I didn’t question it. Also, he clearly looked like a boy, a peon that loved to pull pranks or something. Even now, it seems unbelievable. Maybe it’s some sort of mistake. I grabbed a corner of the fur pelt and pulled it away to check Faltiana’s—Fol’s—body.

“Aaahhh?!” Fol shrieked.

She screamed and quickly shook me away, but I was able to see her body well. She had breasts and lacked male genitalia. Though a bit scrawny, anyone could tell she undoubtedly had the body of a girl.

“Wh-What the hell?!” she cried. “I didn’t sleep naked with you with any sort of intention... I just wanted to warm up your cold body?”

“What?” I asked.

I looked at myself and gave another glance at my surroundings. I’d been washed away by the ocean as I suffered from mana exhaustion, and I must’ve been very weak. Fol had slept with me without wearing anything, as though to keep me warm. I recalled a book that I read in my father’s study—a ship’s log written by a famous adventurer. He got into an accident at sea and reached an uninhabited island where he found a nearby cave. He and the female adventurer got undressed and huddled together for warmth so that they could survive. That’s exactly what happened here, I presume.

As I processed what had happened, I let out a sigh.

“I see now,” I muttered. “It seems I’ve troubled you a great deal.”

“Wh-What gives?” Fol asked. “You don’t need to sound so formal.”

“Yet, I don’t understand...”

“Huh?”

What’s her goal? She hates nobles, doesn’t she? And yet, she literally used her body to save me, a noble. She doesn’t seem old enough to play around with men, but one normally wouldn’t think of sleeping naked with a stranger. While I called her Fol, her real identity was indeed Faltiana, that cruel and merciless wench. Wait, now that I think about it, I haven’t done anything to make her hate me...yet. She’d killed me in my dream, but as it stood, I hadn’t given her a reason to do so. Though even in the tale, she was practically just taking all her anger out on me.

“You hate nobles, don’t you?” I asked. “Why did you go so far to save me? What’s your goal? Are you hoping for money in exchange?”

“Huh? What are you on about?” Fol asked. “Of course I’d save you. Obviously. Sure, I do want some cash, but not like this.”

She looked deadly serious. So you’re not after money? And she made it sound like it was only normal for her to do so. Why’s a mere commoner trying to lecture me using logic?

“‘Obviously’?” I asked.

“You saved me first, didn’t you?” she replied.

Does she mean when I saved her from that beam of the Wicked Whale? That was actually my mistake since I was unable to fully block the whale’s attack. As a noble and the eldest son of House Lightless, I couldn’t stand back and have someone take responsibility for my own folly.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you saved my life,” she said. “And because you defeated that monster, I’m sure that you saved Roguebert too. You’re a hero to me. How could I leave you alone when you were on death’s door?”

I silently sat there, her pure, straightforward feelings of goodwill filling my mind. I’d never received such words of gratitude in my life. I averted my gaze, unsure of how to respond to such genuine praise.

“Don’t misunderstand,” I said. “I didn’t do it for peons like you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Fol replied. “I’m just thanking you of my own accord, that’s all. Just shut up and have your life spared.”

“The hell are you saying?”

She was brutally frank as she clutched the fur pelt to hide her front and approached me to peer into my face.

“Lo...fus,” she murmured.

“Huh?” I asked.

“Your name. It’s Lofus, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

What is she on about? Did she not know my name until now? I guess I never really gave her a formal introduction...

“Well, Lofus, you must be feeling cold,” she said. “Jeez... And after I went through all that trouble to warm you up.”

“I’m cold because you took the fur pelt,” I pointed out.

Fol outstretched the pelt and wrapped both of us in it. “Stay still.”

I felt our shoulders touch as we were rather close together.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Nights by the shore are cold,” she replied. “You’ll freeze to death unless we stick together and keep warm.”

“And just how long are you planning on looking like that?”

“I...used my outfit to treat your wounds.”

Ah, right. Her outfit was in shreds as she’d used it to bandage me up.

“I can’t use my healing magic anymore either...” she muttered.

What does that mean? Does she not have enough mana? Or did she somehow lose her faith overnight? I haven’t a clue...

“Don’t look at me much,” she said.

I’m not.

“Where’s my mantle?” I asked.

“Er...” Fol awkwardly faced the ground. “I stripped you of that on the shore when I carried you here. I went back later to collect it, but it was gone by then. I think it was taken by the waves. Sorry.”

“I...see.”

Then my potions in the pockets of that mantle are also lost at sea. They could’ve helped me recover a bit of my stamina and mana, but there was no use crying over spilled milk.

I spent the rest of the night talking with her, though admittedly she did most of the talking. I only quietly listened to her, and when I occasionally showed my clear disinterest, she quickly switched topics without seeming to mind. Her undeterred mental fortitude was honestly a bit exhausting. Her name, Faltiana, came from her mother, who she lost to an illness when she was still a child. Her mother wished for Fol to grow up into a beautiful princess and thus gave her that name. Yes, I did think that it was quite an elegant name, unfitting for a commoner...

It seemed Fol’s mother had doted on her daughter very much, and often mentioned that a knight would appear one day, destined to whisk Fol away into a happily ever after. She sounds like she didn’t have much going on in her head. I can’t believe Greig married someone like her.

“Speaking of, when you fought against that whale, you looked very valiant. Almost like a knight,” Fol remarked in a teasing voice.

Why must I, a high-ranking noble of the kingdom, be seen as something as lowly as a knight?

I scolded her for teasing, but she only laughed back. What in the world...

She told me of a memory from her childhood, when she went off to explore the shore with her eldest brother, Log, and her second-eldest brother. There, they found a merfolk that had strayed from its school and wandered onto the land. The three siblings fought the monster together, and after a grisly battle, they managed to chase it away. Greig later learned of their dangerous mission, and he bopped all three of them on the head, much to their dismay.

Fol then moved on to talk about the childhood friend she’d grown up with, but I literally couldn’t care less. She kept yapping and yapping, though I later realized that she must’ve been trying to keep me awake. If one were to get lost in the snowy mountains, falling asleep was practically death; though the cave by the shore wasn’t as frosty, there was still a real nip in the air. We illuminated our surroundings with a fire, but it seemed the depths of this cave must’ve been connected to an exit, as every now and then the salty ocean breeze would blow in to ensure that the cave remained cold. The two of us huddled together for warmth as the night wore on.

✶✶✶

“My lord! My lord!” a familiar voice called in the distance.

I blearily opened my eyes. There was no mistaking this voice. Carlos, I thought. His voice reverberated outside the cave.

I’d tried to stay awake, but it seemed Fol’s boring talks made me gradually fall asleep before I even realized it. I focused my mana onto my hand and tried to produce a tiny Dark Ball atop my palm. Hm, my mana is far from fully recovered, but I’ve got enough to use a few spells again. Thankfully, I was able to cast several basic spells without issue, though I obviously wouldn’t be able to survive another harrowing clash against a monster like the Wicked Whale.

Fol was beside me, leaning on my shoulder as she snoozed away blissfully.

“Hey, wake up,” I snapped. “Help’s arrived.”

“Mm...” she murmured sleepily as she turned to me before jumping up with shock. “Ahhh! Crap, was I asleep?!”

You sure were.

“Lofus, are you alive?!” she cried.

“Of course I am,” I replied. Who do you think woke you up, moron? “Enough chatter. Let’s leave this cave—help’s finally arrived for us.”

I pushed the fur pelt onto Fol and staggered to my feet. She hastily threw the pelt aside and stood up to support me.

“Hey, don’t push yourself,” she said.

“My mana’s recovered a bit, so I should be fine,” I replied. “Your actions are commendable, but you... Are you planning on heading out while looking like that?”

“Er...”

She realized she was naked and quickly picked up the fur pelt to wrap it around herself and hide her body. Good grief, why do you think I handed you the pelt to begin with? I channeled my mana throughout my body, and I’d recovered enough to walk. I stepped out of the cave with Fol in tow, then spotted a ship docked nearby and Carlos scouring the sands for me. When he spotted me, he rushed forth with impressive speed.

“Lord Lofuuuuus!” he bellowed.

Tears streamed down his cheek as he clung onto me, and in his hands was my drenched mantle. Did he pick it up when he saw it drifting about nearby?

“I’m so glad! So, so glad that you’re alive, my looord!” Carlos cried.

“Don’t touch me,” I replied. “Your snot will get all over my body.”

My butler clung onto me as tears and other fluids streamed down his face, much to my disgust, as the other sailors began to gather around. They cheered when they saw Fol and me alive. Log, larger than the rest, pushed the crowd aside to greet his sister.

“You’re both alive! Thank goodness you’re safe, Fol!” he shouted.

“Don’t touch me!” Fol snapped.

“Huh?! Gah!”

Log tried to cling onto Fol, but she dodged his advances and delivered a kick. Unable to brace himself, he fell to the ground as he groaned, his face covered with sand, when he gazed up and looked wide-eyed.

“Huh?” he murmured.

It seemed he noticed that Fol was naked underneath the fur pelt. He stared at her for several long minutes before I heard his neck creak as he slowly turned toward me. Fol glared down at her brother as she clung to my side as though to use me as a shield.

“Huh?” Log murmured again, his silly voice filling the air.

This guy... He’s definitely misunderstood the situation.

After a bit of fuss, we were all guided into the ship, and we managed to safely make it back to Roguebert. On our voyage back, Log kept pestering me about what exactly my relationship with Fol was and what we’d done that night in the cave, but before I could answer, he was struck by a roundhouse kick. Carlos was admittedly shocked to learn that Fol was a woman, but he didn’t say anything more. He certainly didn’t try to interrogate me.

The island that Fol and I had washed onto was actually within the Devil’s Sea, though it was uncharted territory that didn’t appear on any maps. The terrifying legends surrounding the Devil’s Sea had deterred people from exploring it, so much of it was still unknown. It wasn’t odd if a small island or two was still undiscovered, and it seemed we were saved by that.

And Lunamaar vanished. I wonder where it went.

I tried asking Fol about it, but she didn’t seem to know herself. She claimed that it was her first time seeing a seahorse like that, and when the Founder’s Charm created a storm in the sea, the spirit had apparently guided us to this uninhabited island. Hm, in the story, Lunamaar was Faltiana’s partner and the two were always together, but I’m not really sure how they became connected.

I didn’t expect the Founder’s Charm to bring forth a storm and change the weather either. If Fol hadn’t been with me, I would’ve undoubtedly been dead. This storm had apparently prevented the ship from finding us, and Carlos vehemently apologized on his hands and knees for how long it had taken to rescue us. Since I was the one who apparently caused the storm, I decided to generously grant him my forgiveness.

This had been my very first ship voyage...and it was unexpectedly awful. I’d lost my left arm and vision in my left eye, suffered from mana exhaustion, and even got stranded on an uninhabited island. I counted myself lucky that I’d survived at all.

But in any case, I finally managed to make it back to Roguebert. When we arrived, Greig and the other villagers, to my surprise, didn’t come out to welcome us warmly. The fishing village, for some inexplicable reason, was occupied by a group donning armor of pure black.

5. A Banquet

The moment our ship docked at the pier, a group of knights in suits of black plated armor greeted us. Though their attire was all the same, each carried a weapon that looked unique from all others, giving the group a somewhat haphazard appearance. They stood in a straight, horizontal line across the shore as a knight equipped with a halberd stepped forward, acting as the representative of the group. The sailors who saw this scene from the ship were instantly on guard.

“Who are they?” Log muttered, his face stern. “Where’s pops? And where are the other villagers?”

“They must be Clinton’s goons,” Fol growled, preparing to head out. “He must’ve targeted the village while we were gone!”

“Calm down, you oaf,” I muttered, grabbing her by the scruff of her neck to hold her back.

“Huh?! Let go, Lofus! I’m not gonna take this lying down!”

“Take a look at that flag.”

Their flag and their mantles all sported the same emblem: a crescent moon devouring the sun.

“You’d best take in the sight and engrave that insignia into your thick skulls,” I muttered. “That’s the crest of House Lightless, the one who governs your land, and don’t you forget it.”

I channeled my mana into my feet and allowed my mantle to flutter behind me as I stepped off the pier by myself. Carlos followed me, and the knights immediately knelt once they noticed my presence. The other knights, as though that was their cue, all knelt as well.

I recognized these soldiers; this unit was the standing army of Marquess Lightless. They were the cream of the crop, carefully selected from all others. Each and every one of them was more powerful than a thousand men combined. The black armor was the symbol of House Lightless, and only they were permitted to wear it as the prestigious Dark Knights. Because of their overwhelming individual might, these knights were generally ordered to operate alone, so I hadn’t expected them all to greet me.

The one who knelt in front of me with his halberd removed his full-face helm, revealing a handsome face and white, long hair.

“Welcome back, my lord,” he said.

“I knew it was you, Alba,” I replied.

This man shone even among his esteemed peers. Alba, captain of the Dark Knights, served as the personal guard of my father and was practically the marquess’s right-hand man.

“I presume you’re here under my father’s orders,” I said. “How did you know where I was?”

“Marquess Lightless is terribly worried about you,” Alba replied. “Please, I ask that you return to the main fief immediately.”

I huffed with annoyance as he avoided my query.

“You haven’t answered my question,” I spat. “Are you underestimating me?”

“Certainly not, my lord,” Alba replied. “But Lord Lightless has said not to push Sir Carlos too much.”

I glared at Carlos. He must’ve sent a letter to my father before we departed. I told him that I’d report back after all was said and done, and yet...

“Carlos,” I growled. “How dare you disobey me.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Carlos replied.

He bowed his head low and apologized, and I clicked my tongue in response. You really didn’t need to do this.

“My lord, Sir Carlos is worried about you...” Alba started.

“Silence,” I rumbled. “I don’t remember ever giving you permission to interrupt Carlos and me. If you speak again with my consent, I’ll blow a hole through your stomach.”

“Yes, my lord.”

How dare he take Carlos’s side. I silenced Alba, knowing that this was a matter between myself and my butler. I cared not whether Alba was a personal guard of my father or the captain of the knights. He certainly had no right to butt into a noble’s conversation.

“That aside...” I muttered as I gave a sweeping glance at the village that the Dark Knights now occupied. “What’s going on here? I don’t see the residents anywhere.”

“When I asked the residents about you, they refused to speak,” Alba confessed. “They began to riot for some inexplicable reason, and so we had no choice but to extinguish it.”

The residents of Roguebert, led by Greig, despised soldiers that worked under nobles, chiefly due to Clinton’s soldiers plundering houses and doing as they pleased. The Dark Knights were clearly distinguishable from bandits due to their high-quality armor; anyone could tell that they were soldiers of the kingdom. But their timing was horrendous. The people of Roguebert were already wary of armed men coming to steal from their village, so anything resembling such could provoke their hostility.

“Did you kill them?” I asked.

“We did not,” Alba reported. “We restrained those that were aggressive, and the more compliant have been contained to one area.”

“I see...” I said, breathing a sigh of relief.

If there were any casualties, I feared that it would affect my relationship with Fol—I mean Faltiana. If soldiers directly under control of House Lightless killed any villagers, she’d have ample reason to loathe my household. The sacrifice of my left arm would be for naught.

“That’s very good news,” I said, gently patting his shoulder with my hand. “If you’d killed even a single one of them, I would execute you on the spot, captain.”

Sweat appeared on the face of the composed Alba. “What do you—”

“Silence. I haven’t allowed you to speak further. Now, I suggest you release all the villagers at once, lest a riot ensue from the deck of this vessel.”

Alba, who finally noticed the sailors on the ship, quietly bowed his head.

“Certainly,” he replied.

He acted swiftly and gave the Dark Knights orders, freeing the restrained and confined villagers in a flash. Greig was the first to approach us with a huge smile.

“You blasted bastards!” he said cheerfully. “I’m glad you guys made it back safely!”

He hugged Log, then proceeded to wrap his arms around every single one of the young sailors, though Fol managed to evade him. After he greeted everyone, he turned to Carlos and me.

“I’m glad you’re alive, kid!” he shouted. “Did you manage to take the monster down?”

The moment Greig spoke to me so casually, the Dark Knights immediately turned wrathful, their eyes tinged with bloodlust as some placed their hands on their blades. I stopped them all with a glare.

“The monster was tougher than I expected, but yes, it’d been dealt with,” I said. “Log and Fol can give you the details. The aggressive monsters shouldn’t cause too much trouble now, and I imagine that you’d be able to fish more than before.”

Tears of gratitude filled Greig’s eyes. “I can only thank you. I don’t even know how I can repay you, kid!”

“No need. I haven’t stooped so low as to expect anything from peons like you. And it seems my soldiers have troubled you a touch.”

“No, no, we’re to blame for that too. We assumed they were Clinton’s men, here to steal our stuff, so we immediately treated them as enemies. I didn’t think they were your soldiers.”

You make it sound like you guys weren’t immediately subdued before you could do anything. Well, that’s to be expected from mere peons against the Dark Knights who can take down a group of knights single-handedly. If the villagers of this desolate fishing village actually had given the Dark Knights any trouble, I would dismantle the order for being so incompetent.

“If anyone’s been injured, let me know,” I said. “I’ll have one of my people treat the wounded.”

“Heh, no need to worry about that,” Greig said before he erupted into boisterous laughter. “None of us are so weak to be injured by a single blow!”

“I apologize for interrupting this conversation, but it’s clear that my lord is a touch tired,” Carlos said. “Is there any place where he could have a spot of rest?”

“Huh? Yeah, you’re right,” Greig agreed. “We don’t need to stand around and chat here. Why don’t we—”

“You should come to our place, Lofus,” Fol said. “We’re close to a clinic too.”

She stepped forward and took a small pinch of my mantle to pull me in her direction. I sighed and decided to follow her.

“H-Hey, Fol?” Greig stammered.

“Over here,” she said, ignoring her confused father.

Her strides were small and slow as though to show consideration for my body. There’s no need for you to do any of this for me.

“Idiot, now isn’t the time to be chatting with my pops,” she whispered in a voice so faint that only I could hear her.

“How dare you insult me,” I grumbled.

“You tried to act so cool with that dramatic entrance, but I can tell you’re just barely able to stay on your feet.”

“I’m not trying to act cool. I’ve got mana now, so I can easily stand and walk around.”

“You might have mana, but you’re still gravely wounded. Don’t try to put on a tough front.”

“I’m not.”

What’s her deal? She’s trying to lecture me...

Carlos watched my exchange with Fol for a few moments before he whispered into my ear.

“Pardon me for asking, but...nothing really happened, correct?” he asked.

“Are you doubting me too?!”

“Nothing happened, obviously!” Fol shouted.

Our voices echoed into the distance as the sailors followed us. Log solemnly muttered that he knew the truth, and this meaningful word did us no favors.

“What? Fol...and the kid? Huh?!” Greig stammered with shock.

Even I could hardly believe this comedic situation that I was put into. Humor permeated throughout the air as everyone jumped to their own conclusions. You bastards best stop joking around. All the while, Alba remained silent as he managed to slip through Carlos’s alertness and quietly stood beside me. My butler, who was behind me, widened his eyes with astonishment; Alba had managed to hide his presence so well that even Carlos failed to notice him.

Alba, expressionless, peered into my face for a few moments and muttered, “Permission to speak, my lord?”

Ah, right, I told him to be quiet.

“Very well,” I relented. “I shall reward you for getting past Carlos. Go on, you may speak.”

“I’ve noticed that your footsteps have been rather...unstable, to say the least, my lord,” he said. “And that person who seems quite close to you mentioned it earlier. Are you injured?”

“Indeed. I’ve sustained some major injuries. Alba, your astuteness is surely one that’s worthy of praise.”

He’s performed well as captain of the Dark Knights after Carlos; Alba is certainly impressive in his own right.

“And while this is just a guess... Is one of your eyes failing you?” he asked. “Are you unable to see out of your left eye?”

“I didn’t think you could tell,” I answered.

How was he able to know so much? A mantle was draped over most of my body to hide me, and I was sure I looked uninjured at first glance. Normally, I wouldn’t have been able to walk, but I’d channeled my mana into my feet to force my body to move. Alba must’ve pieced together the truth from my unsteady footsteps and Fol’s worried scolding.

A person with astute instincts would’ve certainly been able to notice that, but I had no idea how he managed to intuit that I’d lost vision in my left eye. Was I subconsciously trying to defend my left side more than usual? I don’t even know what that entails. I was less shocked and more taken aback by this point. You’re a bit creepy...

Alba wasn’t the type to be emotional, but he turned his piercing gaze angrily to Carlos.

“Sir Carlos, I trusted you to be by his side, and yet...” Alba growled, his low timbre menacing and furious.

I could clearly see his anger and disappointment in my butler, and Carlos could only stare at the ground in response.

“This injury was inflicted due to my own actions,” I said. “It’s my responsibility, and don’t make me explain myself further.”

“Yes, my lord,” Alba said, swiftly ceding this point. “Forgive me for stepping out of line.”

“You guys done chatting?” Fol said, unable to stay silent. She pointed toward her abode. “We’re almost there, so let’s hurry.”

A single-story house made of wood stood upon a small hill. I wasn’t expecting a lavish inn, but for better or for worse, this was a house befitting a commoner.

“It looks so old,” I remarked. “I doubt it’d even protect me from the breeze.”

“Shut up,” Fol replied. “It’s better than nothing, isn’t it? Just get in.”

She pushed me from the back into her house. It was then that Alba reached out to grab Fol’s wrist.

“Huh?” Fol asked. She looked stunned when her hand was suddenly grabbed.

“You,” Alba said with his expressionless gaze. “You’ve been a bit too insolent to my lord. You seem close to him, but are you a woman? I already have my suspicions, but just what kind of relationship do you have with him?”

I summoned a Dark Ball and hurled it at Alba for daring to speak such nonsense. The knight was blown back, damaging the house’s entrance on his way to the rocky ground. Everyone was stunned, but I paid them no heed. I walked over to Alba and coldly gazed down at him.

My spell had blown a hole through the armor on his torso, exposing his toned abs. I can’t believe that my spell couldn’t penetrate him.

“I don’t remember permitting you to speak,” I said. “How dare you ramble on and on about silly affairs. I wished to blow a hole through you, but you’re rather sturdy. I’ll admit that you’re impressive, fitting to be the captain of the Dark Knights.”

Alba wiped the blood from his mouth and freed himself of the rock, then knelt in front of me as though nothing had occurred.

“If I have offended you in any way, I do apologize,” he said.

“Enough. Begone,” I ordered. “You’re an eyesore.”

“Yes, my lord. And I shall bring an excellent physician for you posthaste. I ask for a bit more of your patience.”

He melted into his shadow and vanished. This spell, known as Shadow Move, allowed the user to slip from one shadow to the next. Teleportation magic was highly advanced and required great skill, so Alba’s ability to use such a power nonverbally was proof of his excellence. Still, his demeanor always rubbed me the wrong way.

“Sorry that I broke your entrance,” I said. “I’ll pay for the damages.”

A stunned Greig cracked a forced smile and a less-than-enthusiastic thumbs-up. “H-Hey, don’t worry about it, sport! I thought I could use a window right about there anyway. Come on in!”

Fol furrowed her brows and violently tugged on the edge of my mantle.

“Hey, you’re taking things too far!” she shouted. “That white-haired dude’s your soldier, isn’t he? Why the hell would you throw a spell at him?”

She’s scolding me... Why? Why are you angry? Shouldn’t you be pissed that I just broke your front door? I don’t get why you’re so upset about Alba...

“Whatever. Let’s go in,” she urged.

“Hey, don’t pull,” I said. “I can walk by myself.”

And so, she dragged me into her house.

✶✶✶

I sat on the sofa. Carlos was to my right, casting healing magic on me, and Fol sat on my left to wrap my wound with bandages that she must’ve gotten from the clinic. As I was receiving treatment, a Dark Knight arrived with a black wand in hand.

Right, Alba said that he’d send over an excellent physician, I thought.

The knight removed their helm and elegantly bowed in front of me. She was a young lady. I had no idea that there were women in the Dark Knights. Though she was in her armor, she did a little curtsy, motioning as if pinching the hem of her invisible skirt. Her movements were fluid and elegant. She must be the daughter of a noble, but she’s awfully young. She looks to be in her early twenties at most, or maybe even in her late teens. The Dark Knights valued pure ability, so I knew that her skills had been proven.

When she raised her hand and gazed at my body, she saw that I was covered in bandages and that my left arm was gone. Her eyes widened with surprise, and I could quite literally see the blood drain from her face.

“E-Excuse me,” the knight stammered.

I could see her trembling as she approached me, paying no heed to Fol who was beside me. The knight drew her face close to my left elbow, where my arm once was, and scrutinized it carefully.

“I heard that you were injured, but I never expected this...” she murmured. “You were walking on your own, so I assumed your wounds were far less serious.”

“Enough blabbering,” I said. “Hurry up and treat me. You’re a skilled physician, aren’t you?”

“I shall treat you; that goes without saying. However, this wound isn’t so shallow and easy to heal. I can see traces of powerful mana enveloping your left side, almost like a curse. I heard that you went out to sea to subjugate a monster, but what exactly did you fight against, my lord? Did you battle an ancient dragon of the highest rank? A divine beast?”

She looked like she was about to burst into tears as she gazed at my wound, likely inspecting the mana that enveloped my injuries. It seemed the Wicked Whale’s attacks left something like a curse on my body. I didn’t expect her to be so adept at seeing mana, though. It seemed the mana on my wound allowed her to peek a glimpse into the whale’s power.

“No, I fought against a whale monster that had a bit more mana than most,” I explained. “I killed it, of course, but yes, it was as powerful as an ancient dragon.”

Or perhaps even stronger. The ancient spells that had supposedly existed since the time of the gods hadn’t been enough to finish the monster off; I was forced to use the Founder’s Charm.

“What I’m getting at is that it’s a creature that humanity couldn’t have possibly stood a chance against,” the knight said. “I shall do what I can, but I suspect that regenerating your lost arm is, well... I apologize, my lord. That is simply beyond me.”

She bowed deeply, and I gazed at my lost left arm as I nonchalantly thought about having a cutting-edge artificial arm made for me. I felt oddly calm.

“What about my left eye?” I asked.

“Excuse me,” the knight said once more as she peered into my eye. “How much can you see out of it?”

“Nothing at all. I’m totally blind on my left.”

“I see... I shall do my best for this as well, but I believe it will be difficult to restore your vision back to what it originally was.”

“That so...”

This one came as no surprise. Really, I had expected as much. Even when I channeled my mana into my left eye, I felt nothing at all. It was as though that eye didn’t exist in the first place.

“I understand,” I said. “Could you begin treating me?”

She nervously nodded. “I shall do my utmost best.”

A magic circle, so scarily refined and polished, surrounded my injuries, and she began casting her healing magic onto me. Carlos acted as her assistant and provided aid, and Fol was eager to offer her support as well, but she was politely refused by the knight. The treatment took a few hours, and the sun that was high in the sky had begun to set by the time she was finished.

“I’m...done,” she said with haggard breath as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

To my disbelief, the pain throughout my body was gone. My body was covered in burns and scratches, but there were no more wounds. I was as good as new. The biggest surprise was my left eye; I’d given up on seeing out of it again, but I was able to make out faint images with it. The outlines were fuzzy, but the fact that I could see at all made the difference like night and day. My eyes were both darker than the void, but puzzlingly—and perhaps as an aftereffect of my injury—my left eye turned a bright jade as though all the dark color had been drained out of it.

In a fantastic twist of irony, my eye had turned the same color as the Wicked Whale’s. And it came as no surprise that my left arm was still gone. The knight was capable of wielding the most advanced healing magic that could regenerate limbs, but the mana that remained on my wound lingered like a curse and prevented my body from regenerating.

I spotted Carlos sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, his head bobbing up and down as he dozed away. He must’ve been awake all throughout last night in a frantic search for Fol and me within the ocean, so I couldn’t blame him.

“Well done,” I praised the knight. “You’re far better than I expected.”

“Oh, your words are too kind, my lord,” she said, with a smile, but then her face turned grim. “However, your left arm is still...”

“You need not worry about it. I shall have an artificial arm created.”

“Please wait before doing so, my lord. I shall ask the higher-ups and call for an even better wizard than me. I’m sure that they will be able to help you soon enough.”

“A wizard better than you? I’d love to meet them if anyone like that exists.”

I suspected that even the Church would struggle to find anyone better than her.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

The knight looked a touch melancholic as she averted her gaze. “I’m terribly sorry, my lord. As I’m an unnamed knight, I’m prohibited from revealing my name.”

Dark Knights were all covered from head to toe with black armor, and this sense of anonymity allowed them to conduct their work. Only named knights—those of high rank even within their order—were allowed to hold a name and introduce themselves. It was a privilege for a very select few.

“Of course I know that,” I replied. “But you’ve already shown me your face, haven’t you? Go on, tell me your name.”

The knight was silent for a few moments before she spoke. “I cannot possibly decline your request, my lord. My name is Yusurika. I shall be honored if you remember it.” She gave me a very elegant bow. “Please excuse me, my lord.”

“Very well. Thank you for your aid.”

As the sun began to set and the breeze blew through the broken entrance, Yusurika tried to step out when she suddenly froze and swiftly returned to my side, her armor clanking about. She drew her face so close that I thought she was going to bump into me.

“Wh-What?!” I stammered.

“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell you this, but I’m going to anyway,” the knight said. She paused before she went on, “Powerful mana has eaten away the left side of your body. I was able to remove most of it, but there are two areas where my efforts proved futile: your left eye and left arm. Like a curse, the mana in those places has remained. That is why vision in your left eye is strained, and why I failed to regenerate your left arm.”

“And?”

“To be precise, it’s not that I cannot remove the mana in your body. No matter how much I remove, more powerful mana keeps flowing into you as though someone is channeling it into you, my lord.”

“What?”

“That is why I compare it to a curse. For someone to remotely channel negative energy into your body is nothing short of a curse. I would like to be certain, just in case: Did you really finish that beast off?”

“Yes. I killed it... At least, I thought I did. Are you saying that it might still be alive somewhere? That can’t be... I didn’t give it a chance to regenerate; not a scrap of its flesh should remain in this world. How can it possibly still be alive?”

“Perhaps the monster was a deity of sorts—something that cannot be killed. Or maybe the monster was simply a familiar, and its master is elsewhere.”

“Hmm...”

Very interesting. I thought I’d killed the Wicked Whale, but what if the battle hadn’t ended? Even if its physical body was gone, it might not actually be dead, and just needed time to return to this world. If it had a master or a main body somewhere else, it might still be alive and well.

“I’ve done my best to seal that curse away,” she went on. “I’ve basically put a cork on the mana pouring into you and stopped it from coming out. This mana shouldn’t negatively affect you in the future, nor will it channel into your body. Now that I’ve stopped it, your enemy won’t know your precise location either.”

I didn’t expect my wound from the Wicked Whale to be so serious.

“Well done,” I praised. “I’d like to offer you some sort of reward for your work.”

“I’ve only done what is required of me as a member of the Dark Knights,” she replied. “It’s our duty to serve our master.”

“Your loyalty is astounding as well. Yusurika, would you like to become my personal guard?”

She looked clearly stunned by my offer. For some reason, her cheeks began to turn red, and she quickly wore her helm to hide her face. She took a few steps back, and this time, instead of her elegant, ladylike curtsy, she bowed like a stalwart knight.

“Should Lord Lightless give me his permission, I’d love to!” she cried.

With that, she practically fled from me. What a rambunctious woman. I was confused as to why her face was red, but once I watched her leave, I turned back and saw Fol.

“Huh... You’re here,” I said.

“I’ve been here this whole time,” she replied, shooting me a glare that only left me more confused.

She approached me and touched my left cheek; a few hours ago, it was badly burned, but it was now good as new.

“Are you okay now?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I’m not in pain either.”

Her gaze fell to my left arm. “Your arm’s still...”

“Does it still bother you?”

“Well, yeah.”

Gazing in the direction where Yusurika left, she muttered, “Is that his type?”

“Huh? What’d you just say?”

“Nothing.”

She coldly walked past my side and grabbed my hand to pull me out of the house.

“Come, Lofus,” she said.

“Huh? Where’re you going?” I asked.

“To the village square. Pops asked me to bring you over once you’re done. We’re gonna hold a banquet.”

“What?”

“You’re obviously the guest of honor.”

“Are you telling me to join a banquet with commoners and eat your filthy gruel?”

Despite my complaints, Fol tugged me along. “C’mon, join us. My pops and bro, the sailors, everyone at the village, and I—we all want to thank you. This is the result of everything that you’ve done, and you’ve got the responsibility of accepting everyone’s gratitude.”

“Responsibility? That’s an absurd leap of logic.”

“But it makes sense, doesn’t it?” She flashed a triumphant grin. “C’mon, don’t give me that look. You might be surprised how fun it’ll be.”

“How arrogant of you.”

And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to shake free from her delicate hand that guided me to the banquet.

“Kiiid!” Greig shrieked. “I heard it all! You lost your left arm to protect Fol, didn’t you?!”

As I joined the banquet, a drunken Greig clung onto me as tears streamed down his face.

“I can entrust Fol in your hands!” he wailed. “She might be a bit pigheaded and tough, but she takes after my late wife—and she’s a looker! Please make her happy!”

“Fol!” I snapped. “Your father’s prattling nonsense. Stop him at once!”

Fol was bringing out a plate of fish as I asked her to get her father off me.

“Yeah, my pops is a crying drunkard,” she said. “Just leave him be and don’t let him get to you.”

“But he keeps rambling on about me taking you for my wife,” I snapped.

“What, you won’t? After we spent a night together?”

She flashed a mischievous grin, and her bombshell made all the villagers roar with surprise and delight. The nearby Dark Knights looked obviously shocked, and I could practically see their stunned expressions underneath their armor.

“Tsk...” I grumbled.

The knights heard that. I ought to silence them. If word spreads to my father that I spent a night with a commoner girl, things’ll get messy.

“Fol, you wench...” I muttered.

I noticed that her cheeks were red, just like Greig.

“Hey, you’re drunk too,” I pointed out.

“It’s a celebration. Of course I’m gonna have a pint,” she replied. “You should drink too. Do you like wine?”

“I won’t drink a sip! I’m not of age yet.”

“Don’t be such a square. I’m underage too—well, I’ll be an adult next year.”

“Then you shouldn’t drink either. Looks like you take after your father with your drunken antics.”

Fol stepped between her father and me, pushing Greig away, before she immediately put all her weight onto me. It almost felt like she was trying to push her chest on me. Where’s that cloth that hid your chest? Are you no longer trying to hide the fact that you’re a woman?

“You’re getting awfully close,” I pointed out.

“Lofus, take it back,” Fol whined. “I’m not like my pops, am I? I really don’t like that.”

“Just get away from me.”

Stop clinging onto me. You’re acting just like your father.

“Hey, having fun?” Log asked.

He appeared with a few of the younger villagers behind him. When he saw Fol glued to my side, he smiled and clinked his mug of alcohol with mine that rested on the table (mine drink was alcohol-free, of course). As he said a little toast, he chugged his pint of ale with gusto.

“Kid, instead of calling me your brother-in-law, I’d want you to call me ‘bro’ or something along those lines,” Log said. “Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

Cheers rose once more, and the younger villagers began to hoot and holler. Good grief. You guys are having a bit too much fun.

“You don’t change even when you’re drunk...” I mumbled with a sigh.

I was exhausted having to handle several drunkards, and I’d never experienced anything this rowdy before. Parties hosted by high society were lavish and cheerful, but none were this loud. But the banquet continued.

✶✶✶

On the outskirts of Roguebert, atop the hill where the chief of the sailors built his home, was an elderly butler. He watched the banquet of the village from afar. Carlos, the personal butler of House Lightless, was able to see his master well, even from a great distance away. The butler channeled mana into his eyes, which enhanced his vision exponentially, and even from so far away, he didn’t miss a single detail.

Lofus was dragged into the banquet and forced to handle several drunkards—it was a rather wholesome sight. Carlos smiled as though he was watching his own grandson grow up. Behind him, a Dark Knight appeared without making a single sound; he removed his helm and revealed his long, white hair. Alba, the captain of the Dark Knights, stood beside Carlos and gazed at the banquet.

“I can’t believe that my lord is participating in a banquet with commoners...” Alba murmured.

He generally was rather expressionless, but even he couldn’t hide his surprise. Carlos quietly nodded along.

“Indeed,” Carlos replied. “My lord has changed considerably over the past few days. He seems to especially trust that girl, Fol.”

“Ah, the daughter of that commoner. They seem awfully close, but I wonder if they share a...relationship.”

“The two deny it, at the very least, and personally, I highly doubt it. My lord’s a bit too young for things like that.”

“But you aren’t certain either. Some houses allow people to lose their virginity by the age of twelve.”

“Even if he’s done anything, my lord doesn’t have an official fiancée. I don’t see any particular issues.”

“I’m not so sure. If he did do anything, I fear that it might affect his relationship with the house of Marquess Vermeil.”

Carlos pondered for a few moments. “House Vermeil... Ah, yes, I remember. If a girl was born in that household before my lord became of age, the deal was that he would become engaged to her. But there are only three years left before my lord is an adult, and I presume that this promise isn’t rather official... Oh, pardon me. Alba, you hail from House Vermeil, don’t you? I don’t blame you for being so worried.”

“I’m from a minor branch of the family, so I’m not too deeply invested. Above all, I swear my loyalty to House Lightless.”

Carlos quietly turned to the ground and changed topics. “How is your wound? I believe that my lord did a number on you.”

Alba was wearing a fresh suit of armor and appeared perfectly well on the surface, but his injury hadn’t healed completely. Though he didn’t let it show, sharp pain still coursed through his body.

“I’m just fine,” he replied. “Sir Carlos, I worry about you. You’ve been awake since last night, searching desperately for Lord Lofus. Surely you should get some rest. I can serve as his guard while you sleep.”

“You?” Carlos asked incredulously. “My lord seems to hate you quite a bit. I’m not confident that you’d be able to guard him.”

The two men narrowed their eyes and quietly glared at each other; it was clear that there was a touch of hostility in the air.

“Sir Carlos, I’ve received a report from my subordinate,” Alba said. “Lord Lofus has sustained major injuries. She tried to heal him, but he didn’t fully regain his vision in his left eye, and his left arm is still gone.”

“Yes... So it seems,” Carlos said as he quietly glanced down.

“How could a man of your caliber allow such a mistake? I can only call it disgraceful. How will you possibly take responsibility for this?”

“I shall report the whole truth to Lord Lightless, of course. I can only heed his orders and decisions. And of course, I’m prepared to take whatever punishment he decides.”

“Sir Carlos, I know of your accomplishments, but you cannot escape your age. Have you considered retirement?”

“I would love to retire, but Lord Lofus mentioned the other day that I am not allowed to, you see.”

The usually expressionless Alba glared at Carlos with wrath in his eyes, but the elderly butler laughed through his nose.

“Alba, you aren’t able to hide your annoyance,” he remarked. “You’re still too young, too inexperienced. A man of your caliber won’t be able to mobilize House Lightless and Lord Lofus just yet.”

“What?! I-I’ve got no such intention—” Alba started.

“Now, what good will it do when you panic that way? If someone accuses you of treason, you surely have no good excuse.”

“Grr...”

Alba inched back with vexation as Carlos wearily took a cigar from his pocket and lit it.

“Even if you managed to chase me away, that doesn’t mean you will become my lord’s personal guard,” Carlos pointed out.

“Well...” Alba started as he trailed off.

“Speaking of,” Carlos said, raising his head. “Yes, the word ‘personal’ just jogged my memory. The healer that you sent—Miss Yusurika, was it? Lord Lofus seemed awfully fond of her, and he invited her to become his personal guard.”

“What?! I’ve received no such report!”

Shock riddled the captain’s face. Carlos wearily pointed his cigar at Alba.

“Your face,” the butler said.

“Ugh...” Alba groaned.

He immediately turned expressionless again, his poker face causing Carlos to let out another sigh.

“Do you want to become Lord Lofus’s personal guard that badly?” the butler asked. When no reply came, he went on, “No matter the case, I doubt I’d be able to get some rest. I suspect that tonight will be busy as well.”

Alba furrowed his brows with suspicion. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“Well, I haven’t been able to get some rest for the past few days. And tonight shall likely be no different.”

The captain quizzically tilted his head to one side.

✶✶✶

As the moon shone over the world and the curtain of night fell upon Roguebert, the banquet came to an end. The sailors were blacked out and drunk, and Lofus ordered his Dark Knights to guide them all home. Log, perhaps able to handle his liquor better than most, was the only one who wasn’t completely smashed. He carried his snoring father, Greig, on his back. Lofus stood beside the two with a snoozing Fol on his back. No one had asked the noble to carry the girl; he did so of his own volition, much to Log’s surprise.

“You’re gonna help me?” he asked.

“You can’t carry two by yourself, can you?” Lofus replied.

“Er, well... You’re right. Thanks.”

Log instinctively tried to decline Lofus’s offer, but immediately reconsidered his words. A man as large and brawny as he could easily carry two people, especially if one of them was petite like Fol. But he knew that now wasn’t the time to refuse the noble’s kindness.

“So, whatcha gonna do, kid?” Log asked out of the blue.

Lofus, confused, knitted his brows. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Fol. You’ve realized it, haven’t you?”

Lofus responded with silence. He knew that Log was referring to Fol’s obvious romantic interest in the boy. Anyone could tell, and of course, Lofus had also noticed Fol’s affection for him.

“Realized it? She makes no effort to hide it,” Lofus said.

“Ha ha, yeah, for sure,” Log replied. “As her older brother, it makes me feel a bit bashful myself.” He laughed, maintaining his cheerfulness.

“And? Why do you ask? What do you expect me to do?”

“Well, as her older brother, I’d love for you to react positively to my adorable sister’s feelings.”

“You certainly speak of this like a peon with no responsibility. People like you are called ‘commoners who don’t know their place.’ You’d best commit that to memory.”

“So Fol’s first love will go unrequited? That’s too bad. She might even cry.”

“Then let her cry. Fol and I live in completely different worlds.”

“You think so? I thought nobles were the ones who could do whatever they pleased, frankly.”

“Don’t act like you know us,” Lofus said, visibly irritated.

Log saw the ill-mannered boy as a child shackled by the rules of high society, someone who felt suffocated and bound in place. His thorny words and intimidating aura were reminiscent of a little kid desperately trying to protect himself. To Log, it was pitiful.

Fol had woken up in the middle of this conversation. She gently bit her lower lip as though to ruminate on the conversation she overheard, and neither Log nor Lofus noticed her awake. Normally, a noble wouldn’t carry a drunkard back home, especially not a commoner. The Lofus of several days prior would never have done anything like this. Carlos watched from afar, indulging in the wholesome change that Lofus had gone through, a stark contrast from Alba, who lifelessly stared at Lofus and Fol.

The night wore on, everyone lost in their own thoughts.

✶✶✶

It was the middle of night, and all the villagers had gone to sleep. Carlos, the Dark Knights, and I arrived at Clinton’s manor, located in the port city. We came here for one reason, and one reason only: to get rid of all of my anxiety about my future. Fol—Faltiana Roguebert—might go against House Lightless in the future, and it was my duty to crush any factor that might cause her to hate us, no matter how small.

Roguebert was no longer shackled with unreasonably heavy taxes, and I’d defeated the monster as well. The last concern that remained was her childhood friend, Norn, who’d been sold off to slavery. When I rode on my carriage to Roguebert, I had a nightmare of getting killed by Faltiana; every time she attacked me, she screamed her childhood friend’s name. Norn had actually made an appearance in the tale of my dreams, in the third arc, known as the Alchemy Empire chapter.

After she was kidnapped and sold off to the neighboring empire as a slave, she underwent numerous experiments and had undergone a shocking transformation before she reunited with Faltiana. For some reason, this reunion ended with Faltiana unleashing her wrath against House Lightless. Frankly, the blame should’ve gone to the heinous individuals who experimented on Norn; even if we went all the way back, surely Clinton was the one at fault.

Why did she blame my house? And me? It makes no sense, I thought. Since this occurred within the Lightless fief, House Lightless could be considered guilty of poor supervision, but even then, blame should fall to my father rather than myself.

I just couldn’t see why she was so irate with me specifically, but the fact remained that she was in my dream. What an absurd tale. Is everything wrong with the world all my fault, somehow? It honestly felt like she was just picking a fight with me, but still, I wanted to crush every little thing that might earn her fury and hatred. If saving Norn from human trafficking would ultimately save my life too, I’d happily do just that.

✶✶✶

The trip from Roguebert to the port city would normally be half a day, but if I kept my legs powered by mana, it wouldn’t even take an hour. Carlos and Alba were able to keep up without issue, but some of the Dark Knights that followed were a bit out of breath by the time we arrived.

You’re supposed to be the pride and joy of House Lightless. How pathetic, I thought.

Though I hadn’t said anything out loud, Alba must have noticed the way I was looking at the knights, as he promised to give them further training later. Astute as usual. I’d prohibited Alba from speaking without my consent, but he prostrated and promised to never say anything unnecessary again, so I decided to benevolently allow him to speak as he wished.

As we showed up at Clinton’s manor in the middle of the night, a servant was the first to greet us. We shoved them aside and stormed in; the Dark Knights managed to seize control of the manor within moments.

A majority of the soldiers had gone off to fight against the monsters, and most of them died during the battle, so it was easy to take over. Along with the servants, Clinton’s wife and his three children were present—there were also separate rooms for each of his many mistresses, according to the knights’ report.

I had them all restrained and tossed into the manor’s basement, deciding to let my father handle their punishment. Whether they be returned to their house of the Serpente fief or be thrown out on the streets, my father would surely do what was necessary.

I roughly explained to Alba everything that I’d discovered, including Clinton’s misdeeds, his kidnapping of residents, and why I set off to subjugate monsters. Due to the contents of my report, it was quite amusing to see Alba’s eyes dart around nervously. The monster subjugation aside, he likely wished to report about an official’s misdeeds and kidnapping to my father at once, but I wouldn’t let him do anything so troublesome.

We gathered at the conference room of Clinton’s manor, where a mountain of papers was stacked upon the round table, listing all of Clinton’s illicit activities. I grabbed a record of human trafficking and tossed it over to the captain.

“We must find and shelter the kidnapped residents at once,” I said. “You lot will assist me.”

Alba read through the records with tremendous speed before looking back up. “Judging from these records, around forty or so residents have been sold off to slave merchants within only the past six months. Sheltering them all shall require quite some time, beyond my own means.”

As he tried to turn to my father for permission, I laughed through my nose.

“Don’t misunderstand,” I said. “I never said anything about saving everyone.”

Just as Alba claimed, it would certainly be time-consuming to account for every single citizen who had been kidnapped. But my goal was to find Fol’s childhood friend, Norn. That said, saving only one person would surely raise suspicion, so I would also help any others from Roguebert. The human trafficking records listed the victims’ names and ages, where they’d come from, and which merchant they’d been sold to. With all this information, I could easily narrow down whom I wished to save.

“We’ll only save the citizens of Roguebert,” I said. “I’m specifically looking for anyone kidnapped within the past six months—nine people in total.”

“Nine...” Alba replied. “I suppose we can manage that.”

He glanced at the Dark Knight behind him. A man as competent as himself was already plotting the perfect squad and plan of attack.

“No need to think too hard,” I said. “This will be simple. We’ll attack the slave merchants and give shelter to any victims found with them. If they’ve already been sold off, we’ll interrogate the merchant and have them tell us where they went. We’ll have them cough up a ledger or something and confirm who bought them. From there, we’ll attack the buyer and shelter the victims. That’s all we need to do.”

It’d been a while since the kingdom abolished slavery. The kingdoms dictated that human trafficking was blatantly illegal, and of course, slave merchants weren’t permitted either. However, it seemed quite a few of these pests had built a nest in the Lightless fief.

“Needless to say, eradicate the slavers and destroy their shops,” I said. “Get rid of anyone who dares to buy slaves as well—don’t forget to collect the ledger that records these sales.”

“Yes, my lord,” Alba replied.

The people of Roguebert were my immediate concern, but there were surely many others who were in the same situation. Buyers were generally those who were well-off—in other words, nobles or wealthy merchants. If I could grab ahold of these records, it’d be perfect blackmail material and very beneficial for House Lightless. According to these records, it looks like Roguebert’s citizens were sold off to two places...

“Carlos and I’ll head here,” I said, pointing to the one Norn had been sent to. “I’ll borrow a few knights too. Alba, you handle the other one.”

“Will you be joining the attack yourself, my lord?” Alba asked with a touch of confusion. It seemed he didn’t expect me to stand on the front lines.

“Do you have a problem with that?” I demanded.

“None at all,” Alba replied.

He bowed respectfully and stood at attention before I walked past him. I sized up the Dark Knights that stood perfectly behind the captain, then stopped in front of a certain one.

“Hm...” I muttered. Yes, I believe she was around this height. “You.”

“Huh?! Y-Yes, my lord!” a woman stammered.

It was clear that she was surprised, but she immediately tried to stand at attention once more. Must be Yusurika.

“You and the three knights to your right will follow me,” I ordered.

Carlos, Yusurika, and the three randomly selected knights bowed and stepped behind me. That’s when I noticed Alba’s gaze.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing at all,” Alba replied.

But his eyes were turned downward, and Yusurika seemed rather timid for some reason. Hmm... Does my selection upset the captain somehow? Not like I care.

“I’d like to head home by tomorrow,” I said. “We’ll finish this before morning.”

My cape fluttered behind me as I headed for the slave merchant, my knights in tow.

✶✶✶

“Eeeep!” the owner of the slave shop cried.

This rotund, middle-aged man who resembled a plump pig fell to the ground as I stormed right in. There was a sea of blood behind me, created by the Dark Knights who’d killed the shop’s guards. I created a regular-sized Dark Ball and pointed my spell at the terrified slave merchant.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” I rumbled. “Where is your ledger?”

“D-Do you even know what you lot are doing?!” the owner screeched. “I’m close friends with the Lord Clinton and— Eaaaagh?!”

The annoying merchant refused to shut his trap, so I did it for him by piercing through his left foot with my spear.

“I haven’t permitted you to speak about anything but the matter at hand,” I growled. “Next time you say something stupid, I’ll skewer that blabbering mouth of yours.”

When I pointed my weapon at his face, he jolted. Holding back a scream, he nodded vigorously.

“Where’s the ledger?!” I demanded.

“Th-The back drawer of the storage,” he murmured.

Carlos immediately made a beeline for the storage unit before I even asked. Within a few minutes, he returned with a stack of documents in hand.

“I’ve secured the ledger, along with past records,” he said. “The villagers’ names match the people that Clinton trafficked.”

“Good work,” I said.

I stepped on the merchant as he was still restrained while I spoke to my butler.

“Where are the ones from Roguebert now?” I asked.

Carlos flipped through the ledger. “A majority of them have already been purchased. As for the buyers... Some are within your fief, while a few of them are a good distance away, out of your territory.”

I clicked my tongue with annoyance. What a pain... I could deal with all of this with a snap of my fingers if I were within my own fief, but killing someone beyond those borders would surely bring a whole host of trouble. But...this merchant had customers outside of my land?

Humans were different from other cargo, taking exponentially more money and effort to transport. Those costs would only rise higher if traveling a long distance to another territory. And the longer the journey was, the more likely the carriage would have to pass several inspection points, increasing the risk of getting caught. Is there a more convenient slave trade route somewhere? I don’t have time to look into that right now—worst case, I might have to give up on the residents that are out of my territory.

“There should be a villager called Norn among the list of names,” I said. “Where has Norn been sold off to?”

“Norn...” Carlos muttered as he knitted his brows and flipped through the ledger. “She’s been sold out of your territory, to the Stelia fief in the north.”

“What?!”

I felt compelled to bury my head in my hands. Why is she, of all people, out of my reach? And to the Stelia fief, no less, so far from the Lightless lands... No, it’s only far if we go by land. By sea, it’s not too bad of a trip. The Devil’s Sea prevented us from using the ocean, is all. Since I took care of the Wicked Whale and the kraken that was likely dubbed the devil that devoured ships, the sea could be traversed relatively safely, but until then, the slaves could only have been transported on land. And traveling by carriage would have meant passing through several fiefs, the Lightless lands, and Stelia. It honestly seems unlikely that they took a route by land...

“Hey,” I said, pointing my spear back at the plump man.

“E-Eek?!” the slave merchant screamed.

“Did you guys use a teleporting crystal?”

A teleporting crystal was a magic crystal that could be crushed to teleport the owner to a predetermined location that was already marked by a spell. The item was very valuable, of course, but because its convenience also brought potential danger, the kingdom had banned both use and trade of the item. Either way, it was heavily restricted due to the risks. It wasn’t an item that a mere slave merchant could possibly get his hands on, but that was the only logical conclusion I would find. Carlos and the other Dark Knights looked clearly shocked, but the slave merchant’s eyes clearly darted around nervously.

“Uh, I don’t know what you’re—” he mumbled.

I took the tip of my spear to gouge out a part of his cheek.

“Gaaah?!” he screamed, his voice unpleasant to my ears.

“Don’t you agree that efficiency is quite important?” I asked. “Next time I deem your words worthless, I’ll cut off your arm. Hmm, do you think screaming also counts as unnecessary noise?”

I pierced his hand with the tip of my spear, and the merchant practically clapped his hand over his mouth to prevent any noise from leaking. Very good. I want to hear as little of that grating voice as possible.

“How did you sell those people to clients outside of this fief?” I demanded.

“As you say, I... I used a teleporting crystal...” he mumbled.

I knew it...

“And where is this crystal?” I asked.

“In the drawer by the entrance of this room...” he eked out. “Th-The key’s in my pocket...”

It was unexpected to see this merchant comply so easily. Perhaps he had already resigned himself to his fate.

As he stated, I found a few teleporting crystals in the drawer. I know these are rare, but with the number of clients he has, this is fewer than I thought... A teleporting crystal was a onetime use item; once it was crushed to teleport the caster, it was done. Does he not keep an ample stock here? Where did he get these illegal crystals anyway?

I asked the merchant to identify the crystal that sent the user to Stelia before I gave my butler my order.

“Carlos, take the Dark Knights and shelter any other Roguebert citizens,” I ordered. “I’ll head to Stelia.”

“What?! You mustn’t, my lord!” he cried. “I can’t send you off alone.”

I expected Carlos to put up a bit of a fight, but I needed someone to take charge here.

“I won’t be alone,” I said. “I’ll take Yusurika with me.”

“What?!” the female knight cried, not expecting her name to be called.

This was my compromise, but Carlos refused to back down.

“I still cannot agree with this!” he insisted. “You’re just recovering from your injuries, and you don’t have your left arm either!”

“You’re a bit more stubborn than usual, I see...” I muttered.

“Pardon my insolence, but that’s my line, my lord! I cannot just sit back and watch you push yourself!”

He was so insistent that I let out a deep sigh. We’ll go nowhere at this rate... Very well. This is a bit forceful, but I’m given no other choice. I coursed my mana through my body and used my enhanced strength to grab Yusurika to bring her close. I jumped away from Carlos as the knight’s helm fell from her head and rolled on the ground.

“Huh?! Whoa!” Yusurika yelped.

“My lord!” Carlos cried.

Yusurika panicked as her face was revealed for the world to see, but I kept her in my arms. Carlos twisted his face with displeasure, and the Dark Knights were stunned as I took my chance to crush the crystal that would teleport me to Stelia.

A moment later, a magic circle enveloped Yusurika and me. Since this crystal could only be used once, this was also a one-way trip. And since there was no means of canceling the spell after it started, there was no going back. As the mana glow turned brighter still, I flashed a cheeky grin at Carlos.

“I’ll find a way home somehow,” I said. “I’ll leave the rest to you, Carlos.”

“My lord...” my butler murmured.

As Yusurika and I were teleported away, the last thing I saw was Carlos’s exhausted face.

6. Outer

Hello? Testing, testing.

Ladies and gentlemen, can any of you hear my voice? I pray that my voice will reach you. Do you remember me, old friend?

I call myself Outer.

There are many things I’d like to say, but currently, I’m just a humble narrator of this tale. Or perhaps an observer...or maybe even a commentator. Both are correct.

I wasn’t allowed to even appear in this tale, you see. Is this a coincidence or the inevitable?

You don’t understand my words, you say? Well, I guess that’s my fault. It’s not right to suddenly talk nonsense like this, is it?

But if you can hear my words, it means that you’re just like me—a being who observes this world without being in it. We are the “audience” to this tale, so to speak.

So, won’t you humor me for a bit? I’ve always been alone, you know. Just take this as the rambling of an old man.

Now then...

This world has stepped away from the “game” it was originally meant to be. One of the causes for this is, as you might know, Lofus Ray Lightless. He has learned of his grisly future and seen a dream where he was killed countless times.

He was supposed to be one of the heels or villains of this game, but now he’s decided to jump into action to avoid a future of his own destruction. Though it seems Roguebert, the village he visited, has undergone a change of its own; it, too, has deviated from the script.

The monsters weren’t supposed to become aggressive this early in the timeline. No, that was scheduled to happen much later. The whale, which Lofus called the “Wicked Whale,” didn’t even exist in the game. Where did it come from? What’s going on here?

Are there others, like Lofus, who’ve learned of their futures and are trying to change it? When the Wicked Whale summoned monsters in the sea and turned them aggressive, it was eerily similar to the Catastrophe, which occurred when the Demon Lord was resurrected.

Perhaps the normal conclusion to draw is that Lars, the Demon Lord of the first arc of this game, is related to the whale somehow. Or is this the work of the God of Darkness? The game was consolidated into five arcs, each containing a villain that could be seen as the “final boss” of their tales. All of them were related to the God of Darkness, the root of everything. Is the Wicked Whale related to the God of Darkness too?

Personally, I’m more interested in Lofus’s archnemesis, Faltiana, and her change in character. She now seems infatuated with him, but such a thing should be impossible, especially according to the game’s script. After all, Faltiana’s wrath and anger toward Lofus within the game were immeasurable. It was certainly not some kind of half-hearted hatred. More unexpected was that Lofus seems to have opened up a bit to Faltiana. Unexpected, and certainly unforeseen.

After the two were thrown into the sea, she risked her very life to save his, and perhaps that softened his attitude toward her. Was his nightmare of being killed countless times by her not enough of a deterrent?

Now, then, I suppose that’s all the time I have today.

I wish you all a wonderful day ahead, and I pray that we can meet again.

7. Original Records of the Naval Battle of Roguebert

The fishing village of Roguebert was plagued by heavy taxation and monsters. Fishing was their primary industry, and because they were able to catch an abundance of fish, they managed to scrape together enough funds to pay the unreasonable taxes. However, at some point in time, squids, octopi, and other invertebrate monsters began to appear in the waters near the village to attack fishing vessels.

This drastically reduced the number of fish they could catch, and they were no longer able to pay their taxes. Needless to say, the citizens of Roguebert went to the magistrate in charge of their area to protest and inform him of the current state of the village. However, the magistrate refused to listen to their cries of desperation; on the contrary, his tax collection methods became more barbaric and severe. Families who couldn’t pay had their houses ransacked to pillage any valuables, and ultimately, he kidnapped girls and children to sell to others.

Roguebert wasn’t the only village that suffered from monster attacks. All throughout the kingdom, many fired their distress signals to beg for help. Invertebrate monsters attacked villages like Roguebert near the sea, bird monsters destroyed villages over a large area, panther and wolf monsters emerged from remote forests to wreak havoc, and countless lava monsters emerged from volcanic areas to terrorize anyone nearby.

A mass outbreak of monsters appeared all at once throughout the kingdom, destroying anything in their path. Each horde of monsters had a boss—a massive creature that stood at the top of it all. Together, they were the Four Fiends.

The one who gathered all of this information was a woman of the Church who received a divine oracle. She, Saint Fran, was considered the very symbol of holiness. The oracle she received told her that the appearance of the Four Fiends was only a prelude to an even greater battle; it was merely an omen of the resurrection of the Demon Lord.

This information was shared only with the royal family and the upper echelons of the military, for fear that it might panic the masses. The eldest princess of the kingdom, Asteria Roi Scintelleo, was first to act. She was this game’s main heroine.

✶✶✶

In the original game, the main character was Abel Karat, a boy who possessed powerful fire magic despite being a commoner. When he saw that his academy friend, Princess Asteria, was trying to throw herself into a battle against the Four Fiends to save her citizens, he practically forcibly joined in.

He was aided by Sorceress Maylene, head of the royal army’s magic squad and the master of many spells for such a young witch. They also fought with Marshal Ganado of the royal army, along with six hundred seasoned soldiers and three warships. They possessed overwhelming power and made all the necessary preparations to fight against the island-sized kraken, Sea Monster Strafe, which ruled over the seas near Roguebert.

It was there that Abel met one of the heroines, a female sailor called Faltiana. When he saw the sorry state of the desolate village, he valiantly declared that he would defeat the monster and save the village. Faltiana, moved by the main character’s righteousness, decided to join in on the fight and face the monster.

The battlefield was atop the sea. They headed for Strafe, who revealed its striped head above water, and three ships sailed to defeat it. Countless monsters appeared and threatened to sink the warships, but Abel and his allies defeated them all and pushed ahead fearlessly. But misfortune befell them in a split second. Just when Strafe was within range, one of the warships behind Abel was obliterated.

A massive invertebrate monster appeared before him—a kraken. He’d faced many monsters of this type before, but he’d never seen anything so huge and towering.

“The ship disappeared in a flash...” a soldier said.

Chaos ensued as Abel and his allies tried to wrap their heads around the fact that two hundred soldiers’ lives had been snuffed out in a moment.

“The ship devourer...” Faltiana muttered as cold sweat dripped down her face. “There’s always been legends of a demon who devoured ships. Is that—no, are these monsters the source of it all?”

Abel slapped his cheeks so hard that the sharp noise rang out through the deck as he did his best to amp himself up. He cast a sorrowful glance at the sunken ship before he glared at the kraken responsible for this cruelty.

“Prepare for battle, guys,” he said. “We will kill it. I’m done with making sacrifices!”

The soldiers heightened their morale thanks to his words as they let out a powerful battle cry that encouraged them all.

✶✶✶

Through a harrowing and difficult battle, Abel and his allies managed to defeat the kraken. The soldiers shouted victoriously, and now that Strafe was firmly in range, they fired their cannons at its head.

In the distance, a fleet of over ten black vessels watched it all unfold. Their flag was of a crescent moon devouring the sun—the family crest of House Lightless. A pair of brown-haired and dark-haired men observed the grisly battle—one would later be called Raymond the Second Demon Lord, and the other Shadow Wolf Lofus.

“I’m astonished to see how overjoyed they are from defeating such a weak enemy,” Lofus remarked. “How amusing. And I see that your fiancée is there as well, Raymond.”

Raymond said not a word and only furrowed his brow as Lofus laughed through his nose.

“Apologies, former fiancée, was it?” Lofus asked. “Are you still bothered about her? A woman who would be enticed by such a monkey—a mere ignorant peon—need not be remembered. She is unworthy of someone like you, who’ll ultimately rule over the world.”

“A peon...” Raymond muttered. “Yes, Abel truly is a peon who doesn’t know his place. That vulgar man...”

“There’s no need for you to be so bothered.”

“Huh? Ah, I’m sorry, Lofus. I suppose I was in the doldrums for a bit there.”

“No matter. I’m here because my father told me to support them, but it seems we’re not needed. What a waste of my time.”

Lofus spoke with ennui. Strafe was a monster that appeared within the Lightless fief, and so the royal family had asked the marquess for his assistance. The marquess sent his son, Lofus to the battle, and the boy decided to take Raymond with him. The Lightless armada didn’t directly involve themselves with the battle against Strafe, but the black ships were assaulted by the monsters Strafe had deployed over a wide range. The Dark Knights on board made short work of them.

The fleet of House Lightless killed far more monsters than the royal army’s deployment, and the dark ships were more than enough to offer any sort of backup and support. Lofus gazed at Strafe, its head peeking from the water, and clicked his tongue.

“Its size is just for show, nothing more,” Lofus muttered. “My Dark Knights could’ve easily taken care of them. The royal army only got in my way so that they can steal the glory.”

“But I admit that the monster contains a fair bit of mana,” Raymond said. “It’s truly a pity. Had the royal family not snuffed this monster out, I would’ve formed a contract with it. I suppose the corpse can still be used as your familiar. What do you think?”

“I don’t need a big lug like that. It’s way too huge and difficult to wield.”

“You think so? You know what they say: Go big or go home.”

As Raymond and Lofus chatted away, the ocean’s surface suddenly bulged and gave way to a massive kraken. It was just as big as the one that Abel and his friends were fighting against. The kraken reached out to the black ship with its many tentacles, hoping to drag it down to the ocean depths, but neither Raymond nor Lofus seemed bothered by it as they continued their conversation.

“Lord Lofus!” a sailor cried. “A monster! Please, you must flee!”

A moment later, a colossal, dark wolf emerged from Lofus’s shadow and swallowed the kraken whole, tentacles and all. The seawater splashed in the air and rained on the deck like a spot of rain. Silence fell upon the ship, and Lofus pointed his icy gaze at the sailor who shouted a warning.

“You...” Lofus rumbled menacingly. “Who gave you permission to disturb our conversation?”

“E-Er, um, I-I’m so—” the sailor started.

He never got to finish his sentence. Lofus wordlessly created a Dark Ball and blew the man’s head off, the corpse splattering onto the deck without a single twitch.

“Clean that trash up,” Lofus muttered.

Not a single sailor could go against Lofus’s heartless words, and the terrified men hastily followed orders, fighting the trembling of their bodies.

“C’mon, Lofus,” Raymond said with exasperation. “You should treat your subjects a bit better.”

“That’s none of your business,” Lofus grumbled. He furrowed his brows, his dark cape fluttering behind him. “This is all so terribly boring. Prepare to head back home.”

And with that, the ships of House Lightless immediately turned around.

A few days later, Abel and his allies would be heralded a hero for defeating one of the Four Fiends.

Afterword

Warning: This afterword contains spoilers of the manga One Piece, specifically the Wano Country arc.

First, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for picking up this book. I’m the author, Kurokawa Hitsugi. This might be a sudden question, but do you guys have a favorite character? I’m not talking specifically about the characters of this series—I mean, do you have a favorite among all the anime, manga, and books that you’ve consumed? Do you have a character that you just genuinely like, no matter what?

As you can tell (since I’m writing a series about a villain), I find myself inexplicably drawn to villains. If you’ve ever watched this children’s TV show, I’m more of a Baikinman fan than an Anpanman fan.

Baikinman’s played the heel for many, many years, so the character I’m about to bring up might seem young in his eyes, but out of all the villains, I like Basil Hawkins from One Piece. I love him so much; I think he’s my favorite out of all the characters I’ve ever seen. He isn’t exactly the most prominent figure of the series, but I find myself empathizing with his way of life and being deeply moved by how he acts.

He trusts his own foresight and makes choices that give him the greatest probability of survival, and ultimately, he only had a one percent chance to survive. He’s a cunning realist, and he didn’t bet everything on that slim chance. He clearly was prepared to face his imminent death. Here was a man who continuously cast his pride aside for survival, even submitting to the enemy if necessary, but in his last moments, he prioritized his pride and honor, even if that meant going against his way of life.

I fell in love with Basil Hawkins when I saw his final moments. He’d submit to the enemy, take hostages, and be cruel and employ cheap tactics in order to survive—I’m sure many people see him in a negative light.

He’s the type who will do whatever is necessary to achieve his goal, and he will easily abandon others if it ensures his own survival. He could be dismissed as nothing more than a cowardly minor villain, but when he made his final choice, he was elevated to a man with a faithful and honorable side, something that made him so perfectly human. It was at that very moment that Basil Hawkins became complete in my eyes. All’s well that ends well, as they say. His death completed his character arc, but I’m one of the devout believers who trust that he’s actually still alive somewhere. He did say that he had a one percent chance of survival, after all. That’s not zero! He could still very well be alive! One day, he might make it back into the spotlight! Okay...maybe that’s too much wishful thinking, but you never know. He might suddenly appear on the cover art and reveal that he’s actually alive! Anyway, that’s what I’m hoping for.

Now, if I only make this afterword about my favorite character, my editor will be furious with me, so I’d like to get a little meta about my series, Repeated Vice. First, I’d like to say that this series is a treasure chest full of everything I like...or depending on how you look at it, a Pandora’s box.

I think you can sort of get a hint of my tendencies now that you’ve got a grasp on the main character of this first volume, Lofus. He’s a cursed, heterochromatic, one-armed prodigy of dark magic. This character’s honestly stuffed with every single characteristic that I adore, and it definitely reminds me of the first page of my cringey journal where I jotted down what the very strongest character would be like. Which kinda makes me writhe with embarrassment, really...

The scary confession I’ve got to make is that Lofus initially wasn’t a character like this. Sure, I was the one who wrote the story, so Lofus ultimately ended up this way, but the curse, heterochromia, and the one-armed bit wasn’t initially planned. He just...turned out that way as I wrote the story.

In other words, this is all a coincidence that meshed with my embarrassing childhood days that I thought I’d sealed deep within me. Yeah, I definitely feel my sanity points decreasing fast. But this is a story that I started, and I’m up against a depressing monster of my own creation: an innocent creature. In any case, I hope you’ll continue to follow the adventures of the manifestation of my childhood fantasies, the sad monster known as Lofus. I’m very grateful to you, the reader, who picked up this book, and I look forward to the day we meet again!

Kurokawa Hitsugi

Bonus Short Stories

What if Elite Four Lofus Had Dreamed of the Tale? Shadow Wolf versus Wicked Whale

The Wicked Whale, a massive monster that floated in the air, suddenly appeared over the skies of the Devil’s Sea. Shadow Wolf of the Elite Four, Lofus, felt its overwhelming pressure as he was lost in his thoughts.

There wasn’t anything like this last time.

The whale let out a cry, reminiscent of a steam whistle, and fired a wave of dense mana. Lofus smiled in the face of this attack.

“A mere beast dares to provoke me?” he asked. “How very cheeky.”

As though to offer a response, Lofus expelled a wave of mana himself. He paid no heed to his surroundings, and this was no battle—it was a one-sided order of submission. His overwhelming mana allowed him to launch a powerful wave of his own creation, and the Wicked Whale’s attack was easily dispersed in the face of the Shadow Wolf. At once, Carlos, Fol, Log, and the rest of the sailors fell unconscious.

“Huh? Even you got knocked out, Carlos? How pathetic,” Lofus muttered with disappointment.

The Wicked Whale, angered by the attack, let out another powerful cry, and countless sea monsters suddenly leaped out of the water to attack the ship.

“It can manipulate monsters too? What a pain...” Lofus muttered. “You lot, take care of them all.”

Following his languid command, countless wolf monsters emerged from his feet and began to chomp on the sea monsters. The Elite Four member liked to use these wolves to do his bidding, which earned him his moniker. He could overpower his enemies with sheer numbers, a strategy reserved for Shadow Wolf Lofus. He had a frightening number of familiars in his shadow—around a million, all told. He was capable of single-handedly toppling a nation if he so desired.

His shadow bulged, and out burst a wyvern. The familiar took to the skies with Lofus on its back, soaring at top speed toward the Wicked Whale.

“You should thank me,” he said haughtily. “A mere fish like you dares to take to the skies without knowing your place, so I’ve decided to follow suit.”

He let out a proud laugh as he conjured Dark Lance and hurled his mighty weapon at the whale. A torrent of darkness surrounded the monster whole.

“Hah!” he scoffed. “You’re just a big fish. How laughably boring.”

He was sure of his victory, but when he spotted the Wicked Whale completely unscathed, his eyes widened with surprise.

“Not a scratch?” he muttered. “I see... You’ve got a rather sturdy magic barrier.”

The Wicked Whale fired several rounds of its Blizzard Lance at once to shoot Lofus down, but he channeled his mana to his wyvern to increase its speed and dodge the spells. As the ice couldn’t even graze him, he gazed at the monster with interest.

“Huh... So you can fire spells,” he muttered. “And your barrier’s stupidly strong. Your attacks and defenses leave you with no openings. I’d have no choice but to admit defeat...if I were a weak peon. Reap life, Farmer’s Scythe.”

He produced a dark scythe in his hand; this ancient spell boasted the highest attack that he could use. He swung his scythe around thrice in a row without regard for the distance and powerful barrier. His attacks ignored it all as it successfully managed to sever the whale in three, but the monster quickly regenerated its wounds as though it had the ability to turn back time.

“Huh?” Lofus murmured.

He gazed in astonishment as the Wicked Whale fired a white beam without storing any sort of mana. The blinding, sizzling ray made Lofus click his tongue angrily, and he channeled more of his mana into his wyvern. He flew at subsonic speed and dodged the white rays before quickly circling around the monster, then narrowed his eyes to analyze his foe.

“Ice...and light,” he observed. “You’ve got double elements, I see. Your light breath boasts abnormal power that I can’t face head-on. Coupled with that insane regeneration ability... What a crazy monster.” He let out a sigh. “But so what? In the end, you’re a beast and nothing more. I can deal with you in a myriad of ways. Lightless.”

He activated an advanced spell without chanting. A dark mist permeated through the air at an incredible rate, too fast for the Wicked Whale to escape from. In a flash, it became enveloped by the darkness.

“That barrier of yours is in the way,” Lofus muttered.

He swung his scythe down once more, and the slash of death sliced the Wicked Whale in two, barrier and all. But of course, the monster began to regenerate at a shocking speed. Lofus used that moment to Shadow Move within the dark mist; this spell allowed him to jump from shadow to shadow, and the cloud of dark mist from Lightless was treated as a shadow as well. This meant that he could teleport to anywhere within Lightless.

His destination was within the whale’s magic barrier, atop its back. Thanks to his scythe that split the barrier in two, black mist was allowed to seep inside and through the monster’s defenses, giving Lofus a chance to slip in.

“Why don’t we start a test of endurance?” he asked. “A game to test just how much you can regenerate. Now, show me.”

Countless familiars appeared from his shadow and pounced on the Wicked Whale. A massive snake wrapped around the monster’s torso, and numerous wolves chomped down to grab a bite of the whale’s flesh. Several dragons also fired their breath, blowing holes through the monster’s massive body. The whale let out screams of agony as it trembled and writhed in pain.

“Ah, I suppose that’s my cue to exit,” he said. “Now then, don’t bore me. Why don’t you fight back until your last breath?”

He melted into the darkness and vanished as the whale began to go on a rampage from the pain. It fired its rays wildly into the air, attacking with wild abandon. Though its body continued to regenerate, the countless shadow familiars did not stop sinking their teeth into the whale’s body. Its skin was ripped away, and several breath attacks tormented the monster to no end.

In a last-ditch attempt, it opened its mouth wide and formed a massive ball of light. It exploded its attack on itself, wiping the shadow familiars away; the familiars were engulfed in a torrent of light and vanished, but they could regenerate as many times as they wished so long as Lofus channeled his mana into them. The familiars reappeared once more and continued their attack as though nothing had happened.

Lofus watched the scene unfold after teleporting back to the ship. Every now and then, he would use his mana perception to analyze the whale’s mana levels and check how much it had left.

“At this rate, it’ll take an hour until the whale runs out of mana and dies,” he observed. “A whale floating in the air is indeed an unusual sight, but it’s not very fun nor entertaining to watch. Hey, you, how much longer do you intend to sleep?”

He kicked an unconscious Carlos awake.

“M-My lord?!” the butler gasped.

“Let’s head back to Roguebert,” Lofus said. “Hurry up and start the ship.”

“B-But what about the whale monster?” Carlos asked. But when he saw the monster, contorting in pain and surrounded by shadow familiars, the butler was speechless.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” Lofus rumbled.

“M-My deepest apologies!” Carlos cried. “I’ll start the ship right away!”

The noble sat back onto the sofa with annoyance as the butler hastily went off.

“How very boring...” Lofus muttered. “Even its final dance of death doesn’t entertain me.”

The ennui in his voice was clear as he turned his back against the Wicked Whale, subjected to an eternity of torment. The ship set sail, not once turning back.

The Melancholy of Dark Knight Yusurika

It had been a year since I became a Dark Knight. My main role was to take care of any issues within the Lightless fief. If monsters caused damage somewhere, I was deployed to take care of them, and if there were any bandits terrorizing people, I decimated the criminals. The Dark Knights were the symbol of House Lightless’s power, thus it was imperative that we always produce excellent results. We were not allowed to die, much less admit defeat. All that was expected of us was absolute power and undeniable victory.

Those who handled problems within the fief were considered of low rank. Once our abilities were recognized, we were allowed to work outside of Lightless territory, on far more dangerous missions. If one could successfully bring back excellent results outside the fief, they earned the honorable status of a named knight. The first rule of the Dark Knights is that you must keep your face hidden behind your helm, and you must never speak your name. But once one became a named knight, they were allowed to remove their helm and announce themselves.

The unnamed Dark Knights all hoped to name themselves one day, but I had no such ambitions. I came to the Lightless fief and climbed my way up to become a Dark Knight, but over the past year, I’d finally learned of my own limits. The Dark Knights prioritized raw power and combat prowess over anything else, but I could be considered an anomaly among them. While I had the bare minimum of combat abilities, my forte was healing magic. I was always a step behind the other Dark Knights when it came to fighting, yet my time of doing menial work within the Lightless fief was quickly coming to an end.

Just the other day, my superior told me that I was almost ready to head outside the fief, but truth be told, I couldn’t possibly make it out there. I had my hands full defeating monsters within the fief, and it took an incredible amount of time for me to beat a lower-ranking dragon by myself.

But my protests were in vain. My superior had very selective hearing, only seeming to acknowledge that I had completed the mission at all. And so, recently, I’ve begun to consider switching jobs. Most of my work within the fief came from requests from citizens, usually requesting the subjugation of monsters or bandits. But because the Lightless fief was so vast, almost every expedition would take a few days at least.

My most recent mission took five whole days, including travel time. I was ordered to wipe out a horde of orcs and destroy their nest—and for some reason, I was to do this alone alone. At first, I had often taken on jobs with several others, but recently, I was often working all by myself. It’d been a year since I became a Dark Knight, and people might assume that I was used to this work by now, but sending a woman alone to battle a horde of orcs was nothing short of insane.

At worst, I’d be dragged into their den and forced to become a tool for breeding before I was killed. I wasn’t sure if the possibility had crossed my superior’s mind, but this was my job. I killed every single orc, but just because I attained victory didn’t mean that all was well. If I’d lost, my dignity would have been trampled upon, and I’d be reduced to nothing more than breeding fodder.

Once I finished my work and filed my report, I was enjoying a bath—or so I hoped. Every Dark Knight stationed nearby received a summons. The emergency order came from the lord of House Lightless, the marquess himself. We were commanded to head to Roguebert, a remote fishing village by the ocean. We were ordered to write a will before we left.

It seemed I would die today.

Elderly Butler Carlos’s Morning Routine

Carlos, personal butler to the eldest son of House Lightless, Lofus Ray Lightless, started his day early in the morning. He woke up at four in the morning, when the horizon was still hazy and white from the fog, and he left his bed.

The first thing he always did was open a window and light a cigar. It took him around five minutes to finish his smoke, and he focused all of his senses to get that hit of nicotine. Once he was done with his puff, he headed to the courtyard of the manor where the training grounds were built. He grabbed a wooden sword and did a thousand swings. Once his body warmed up a bit, he practiced a hundred strokes of each basic swing, three sets per type. By the time he was done, the sun was usually already in the sky, though that depended on the season.

By then, it was usually six. Lofus woke up precisely at seven, and the butler needed to freshen up and eat breakfast so that he could wake his master up. Once he completed his morning training, he went to the laundry and gave his sweaty clothes to a servant before taking a cold shower. The icy water refreshed him, and he used a hair product with olive oil to ensure that not a single strand of his white hair was out of place. He took a razor and a small knife to straighten his hair.

He then headed for the kitchen. The chef was up early as well and had already prepared breakfast for the butler—a simple sandwich and a warm cup of tea. The sandwich changed daily based on the chef’s mood; today was bacon, egg, and some leafy greens garnished with a mustard sauce. The black tea was an original blend made from tea leaves close to the northern region, where Carlos’s hometown was.

Lofus was a huge coffee fanatic, but Carlos was a tea lover; he liked tea how it was, rather than adding any honey or a splash of milk. He preferred to drink it straight and enjoy the aroma of the leaves. This morning spot of rest gave Carlos a sense of peace, second only to his puffs of cigar. Once he finished breakfast, he swiftly returned to his room and opened his window to enjoy his second cigar. He occasionally glanced at his pocketwatch to check the time and enjoyed this smoke break as long as he possibly could. Once the clock struck 6:40, his smoke break—his only time of peace—was over, much to his dismay.

He put out his cigar and headed to his sink where he always kept some herb-infused water at the ready. He made sure to gargle at least thrice to get rid of the nicotine smell before he slid his arms through the wrinkle-free tailcoat that a servant always had prepared for him. He added two spurts each of faint-smelling cologne on his neck and both his wrists to completely rid the smell of nicotine that Lofus disliked.

He tightened his tie in front of the mirror and made one final inspection of his appearance. After all was well, he left his room and headed straight for Lofus’s bedroom. At 6:55, five minutes before Lofus would wake up, Carlos was on standby in front of the bedroom door. The moment the clock struck seven, he gave three knocks.

“Good morning, Lord Lofus,” Carlos called. “It’s morning.”

“Carlos...” Lofus groaned. “Very well. Come in.”

“Pardon me.”

Carlos opened the door, and his day as a butler began. This was his normal, elegant, morning routine.

“Carlos, why don’t I tell you an interesting tale?” Lofus said. “It’s quite silly, really, and makes me displeased to no end.”

However, today was a bit different from usual. Lofus began to prattle on about a tale that Carlos had never heard of, one that clearly upset the boy. Carlos quietly listened to his master’s words, assuming that this must’ve been just a nightmare.

Never in his wildest dreams did he assume that this was when his fate would take a drastic turn.