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