Chapter 83: Mr. Handsome
As Kael sank deeper into the water his body began to feel an unfamiliar strangeness that grew heavier with each passing moment, a sensation that was difficult to describe since it carried with it both coldness and warmth, two feelings intertwined until they became something he could not understand.
His eyelids remained tightly sealed against the water, not because he wished it but because it seemed that in this river his eyes simply could not open. That was not all, for no matter how he tried to move his arms or legs, he found himself unable to swim at all, as though the water itself denied him the freedom to struggle.
The pressure surrounding him felt immense, pressing against his chest, his limbs, every part of his body until he thought he might be crushed apart. He realized quickly that this was not exhaustion or weakness but the weight of the river itself binding him still. The only small relief was that the grayish-green tendrils that had dragged him in no longer clung to him, and for that he was strangely grateful, though the comfort was fleeting.
With his sight blinded and his body frozen, he felt as if he were falling endlessly into a pit of darkness, where nothing existed but silence and the slow suffocation of his breath.
In that vast darkness he felt no ground, no light, no sound, only the emptiness swallowing him whole. His lungs burned as he tried to hold what air he could, but he knew that soon he would be out of breath, and when that moment came there would be no saving himself.
He had fought so hard against the monster, had endured wounds and pain, and yet here in the river he was going to die without even the chance to fight back. He wanted to resist, he wanted to struggle, but there was nothing he could do except endure as long as his body allowed him.
Time lost all meaning as he sank, and he did not know how deep he had fallen, only that the pressure grew worse and his chest screamed for air. He pressed his lips together, tried to clench his mouth and nose shut against the water, but it did not matter, it was impossible to keep it out forever. His body trembled with the effort, the pain of suffocation unbearable, and still his eyes would not open, leaving him blind in a darkness that felt endless.
Coldness soon swept through him, chilling him to the marrow, yet within that coldness he also felt a strange warmth, something that did not belong, and he could not tell if it was comfort or illusion. A soundless whisper of strangeness filled him, not something he could hear but something he felt, and it unsettled him even more than the suffocating dark.
His strength faltered, and at last he let go of the breath he had been holding. The water of the Silent River forced its way into his mouth, flooding down his throat, burning and numbing at once as if it carried something more than just water.
"I suppose... there is no going back now. This is the end that I have reached. I tried, I really did..."
The thought drifted weakly through his mind as his chest filled, not because he wanted to drink the river, but because his body could not resist any longer.
The water forced itself into him until he felt as though he were dissolving into it, and strangely, though the pain was unbearable, a quiet peace began to settle over him. His body grew lighter, as if it were no longer his own, drifting away somewhere far beyond his reach.
The darkness spread further, softer, heavier, and as his consciousness slipped, he felt as though he were being carried not downward but outward, as though the river itself had taken him and was lulling him into sleep. Not just sleep but a deep, endless sleep where everything was fading.
And before he knew it, Kael drifted away, sinking into silence.
---
As Kael slowly opened his eyes again, rubbing at them with a hand that for some reason felt slightly longer than he remembered, the haze in his head began to fade and the blur that clouded his vision gradually lifted until the shapes around him took form.
"Ugh… where am I? Did I survive? But… did I really?"
The moment his sight cleared enough to truly take in what stood before him, his eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
"What the hell…"
Everything around him was drenched in a strange red hue, not blood, not exactly, but rather as though some unseen light had dyed the entire world in shades of crimson. It was not only the air but the shattered stones scattered about the floor, each fragment glimmering faintly with that same strange red illumination.
Behind him, where his back had been resting, he noticed what at first glance appeared to be an enormous bed, the kind one would expect to find in the chambers of a princess or queen, for its frame was ornate, its design elegant, its size vast. Yet now it lay forgotten, its beauty lost beneath heavy layers of dust, its canopy and posts strangled by spider webs, a ruin of something that must once have been magnificent.
It dawned on him slowly that he was in some kind of room, though where it was or how he had come to be here he could not begin to guess. As he tried to rise to his feet a strange awkwardness seized him, for his body resisted, as though something within it was not as it should be. He looked down at himself, and what he saw froze him completely.
His chest was tightly bound in white bandages, and from beneath them radiated a dull ache that told him the wounds there were real. Yet even more startling was his stomach.
He could not believe his own eyes. The bandages wrapped around his torso were stretched across a chest that looked broader, far broader than what he knew as his own, and when he raised his trembling hand to press against his abdomen, he felt the rigid outline of a sculpted six-pack that could not possibly belong to him.
Usually, when he used his elemental powers to shift his body, he could force the shape of his muscles to appear, though never perfectly, never like this. But what he saw and felt now was beyond anything he could ever fake. His upper body was bare, the skin pale and ghostlike where once it had been the warm light-brown he remembered, while his lower half was clothed only in a tattered pair of trousers that barely held together.
His breath quickened as his gaze shifted sideways, and there, standing silently against the wall, was a tall mirror. Its surface shone clean and polished, though the edges were scarred with age, and he could tell it had been carefully maintained by someone. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he turned his eyes to it, and when he saw the reflection staring back, his heart nearly stopped.
"W-who… who the hell is that? Is it… me? How? When…?"
He forgot the mirror entirely as his hands rushed up to his face, fingertips brushing over unfamiliar skin. Everything about him was different. His usually messy brown hair, always wild no matter how he tried to comb it, had turned to jet-black, falling neatly as if someone had styled it with care. His jaw, which he remembered as being soft, slightly heart-shaped, had sharpened into a defined triangular line. His eyelashes were longer, more striking, almost beautiful, and what shocked him most of all were his eyes, no longer the dull shade he remembered but a pair of mesmerizing crimson, sharp and narrow, their sharp shape stretched horizontally to a length that gave them an intensity he had never carried before.
"What… what a hot guy…" he whispered without thinking, his own voice trembling as if afraid of the words.
He was handsome. No, more than handsome. The man in the mirror was impossibly, unreasonably beautiful, and though blood streaked his face it only served to heighten the sharpness of his features. Whether this reflection was truly him or not, it was a face that could silence a crowd. He had once dreamed of such a thing, dreamed of being admired for his looks, dreamed of standing as someone others might envy, but dreams had always been far from reality.
"Where in the actual hell am I? What is this place? These wounds… they don't feel like mine, not from the fight with the Hollow-Tongue, so whose are they? Why am I half-naked here of all places? And worst of all… who exactly is this person staring back at me?"
Even amidst his confusion and fear, a thought slipped into his mind, unbidden yet persistent.
"Wait… wait just a moment. Did I... transmigrate into another world, into the body of the most handsome man alive?"
The bitterness of it made him laugh without sound, though his chest still throbbed in pain. Transmigration... it was nonsense, nothing more than fantasy. Stories told in books he had once read as a child, tales of heroes who died and awoke in another world, blessed with cheat-like powers that let them slay villains with a flick of their hand. When he was younger he had loved those tales, had even dreamed of being like one of those characters. But reality had never given him such a role. In his world he was not the chosen hero. If anything, he was closer to the villain.
"Why… why am I remembering this kind of thing now? Memories from my past… but how? Oh, right, I didn't lose my memories, just fragments of them."
He pressed his hand to his head, trying to force more recollections, but they slipped away before he could grasp them. His thoughts spun as he pressed his knees against the stone floor, forcing himself to rise, refusing to remain lying here like a helpless child. Yet the strength in his body faltered, and as soon as he managed to stand he stumbled forward, falling once again against the cold, unyielding stone.
Sitting again, he rubbed the side of his neck with slow motions, almost as though trying to ease away a stiffness that did not belong to him, and then suddenly, from the far side, a voice drifted through the silence, soft yet sharp, carrying with it a strange mixture of sweetness, nobility, and chilling coldness.
"So... you are awake? Took you long enough. For a moment, I thought you would already be dead by now, Mr. Handsome."
Hearing that voice, which did not sound like a common woman's voice but rather something refined and commanding, Kael turned his head as quickly as his body allowed, and in that instant his chest tightened for what he saw was enough to make his heart falter and skip as though it was caught between two beats.
From within the veil of darkness, a figure slowly emerged, and the first thing he saw was not her face but the gleam of armor, a full set of navy blue plate that seemed almost regal under the faint light. Her breastplate, shaped with a triangular taper, bore polished grey tracings, and in the very center, two swords clashed together in a radiant emblem that seemed to pulse with a solemn air.
The rest of her armor matched in color and craft, the pauldrons and faulds resting in seamless layers, the couters curving around her arms, the sword belt strapped with precision, and the cuisses and poleyns protecting her legs with both strength and grace. Finally, at the very top, upon her head, rested the familiar half-shaped helm whose open front revealed the delicate outline of brown lips that seemed to carry an almost unnatural glow. Kael's eyes widened further, for there was no mistaking her, he recognized her immediately.
"Y-you?" The word slipped from him before he could stop it, but as the sound reached his ears, he remembered quickly that this was not his original body and that he had to act as though he belonged here, calm and composed, no matter how shaken he was inside.
"What about me?" she replied, her steps drawn out and deliberate, her movements flowing with such grace that the strands of her long blue hair drifted and swayed behind her in the air, giving her presence an almost otherworldly aura as she drew near.
"Uh… nothing. But why exactly are you calling me Mr. Handsome?" he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
Her gaze narrowed faintly, the words leaving her lips with a subtle sharpness that was difficult to ignore. "Huh? Why else? Isn't that your name? Strange… when I first met you, you told me Mr. Handsome was your name. Or am I mistaken?"
Kael nodded lightly, trying to brush it off. "No, of course not." Yet inside, his thoughts churned with irritation, and the name itself struck him as absurd. "What kind of ridiculous name is that?" he cursed inwardly, hating the sound of it.
Still, one thing became clear to him: he was not alone here. The girl who had once saved him did not seem close to this man, at least not in the way a true companion should be. If she were, he would not have bothered to hide his actual name. Of course, Mr. Handsome could not possibly be an actual name, right? And since a familiar girl was here, he was now certain that he had not transmigrated into another world after all, as he had once feared. The realization left him strangely relieved.
The woman tilted her head ever so slightly, her expression unreadable as she asked, "You lost in thought again? How are your wounds? Oh, and please forgive me, I had to open your clothes to bandage them."
He looked at the bandages. "So, you did these?" he murmured. "Thanks, I guess. But can you tell me… where exactly are we now?" His attempt at composure faltered despite his best efforts, his voice betraying the uncertainty that gnawed at him, for he could not pretend to stand firmly when he did not even know who he was supposed to be or where he was supposed to stand.
She turned her head and glanced around the room before answering lightly, as though it were of little consequence. "Oh, this place? Just a ruined mansion, I suppose. Unlike the others we've used as hideouts, this one feels far too exposed. I searched around, but there were no other proper rooms, so this one had to do. And since you were badly wounded, I had no choice but to carry you here."
Her words settled into the silence, but Kael's attention shifted instead to the small bag she carried in one hand, a detail he had missed until now. He could not guess what it contained, yet the fact that she kept it so close unsettled him. But it was clear that she misunderstood what he truly wanted to know, but even so, there were still many questions lingering within him. Why were they hiding in the first place? And if they had been hiding even before this, then from what exactly?
He responded only with a quiet "I see," though the words left him unsatisfied, for he knew speaking in circles would never bring him the answers he needed. He would have to be direct, no matter how little he truly knew of her.
"Actually, that's not what I meant. I want to know what this whole place is. And also, why does everything seem to have this strange crimson hue?"
Her lips shifted with confusion at his words. For a moment she was silent, studying him carefully, before asking, "Did you get hit on the head or something?"
Kael gave a slight nod, forcing his tone into awkwardness so that she might believe him. "I don't know. But it feels as though I've forgotten so many things. It feels like my memories are missing. That's why I'm asking you."
It seemed to work, for she regarded him with a surprise far greater than he expected. "That is… truly strange," she admitted, her voice carrying disbelief. "I did not know you had such a condition before, but perhaps in this place it is possible. Very well, I will tell you then."
"Ugh… right. That would be very helpful. So… where are we, exactly?" His words came with a careful tone, his eyes lingering on every subtle movement she made, as though her gestures might reveal truths that her voice would not.
She hesitated, almost reluctant to draw closer, as though purposefully keeping her distance. After a pause, she lowered herself with elegance, sitting gracefully against a broken stone, every movement deliberate, as though her posture must always remain refined. When she finally spoke, her voice carried a strange resonance, both distant and deliberate.
"Who knows?" she said, and the sound of her words rang oddly in his ears. It was as though two voices overlapped, one clear and the other muffled, broken in some uncanny way that made his skin crawl without knowing why.
Kael frowned, refusing to let such vagueness slip past him. "What do you mean exactly?"
Her eyes shifted toward him, and her calm scrutiny was as sharp as the words she chose. "I mean exactly what it sounds like. We…"
Before she could finish, a terrible cry ripped through the air. It was not the cry of any creature he knew, but something caught between the shriek of a beast and the wail of a bird, violent enough that it seemed to tear at the edges of the room itself.
Kael froze, his heart slamming against his chest, his breath caught in his throat. Before he could grasp what was happening, she turned her gaze directly upon him, her voice dropping into a whisper that chilled the air.
"Hide yourself. Do it quickly, or the demon will see you. Do it now… unless you truly wish for both of us to die."
The word demon clung to his mind like frost. He gasped and lifted his gaze toward the ceiling, only then realizing with horror that the scattered rubble and fractured stones across the floor had not come from the walls but from above. The ceiling had been torn open, and through the gap the sky loomed vast and empty. Yet empty was not the right word, for soon, from within that void, two cold bright orbs appeared, eyes without warmth, staring down, freezing him in place until terror seeped into every part of his body.
Instinct carried him backward, retreating beneath the intact section of the ceiling, and only in that moment did her warning echo back into his mind. His voice trembled as he whispered, "Demon?"
She met his gaze with the same chilling whisper. "Yes, demon. What else would they be? Stay where you are. Do not move. Not a single step."
His lips quivered as the word slipped from him again. "Demons…" His thoughts crumbled under the weight of confusion. Why had she spoken of them so certainly? Did such things truly exist? And if they did, then what world had he stepped into?
Black hair and crimson eyes. His chest lurched violently as the thought surfaced. That description… was it not the very one the Knight Orders had marked in their notices? Could it be that the body he now inhabited belonged to that same person?
The thoughts spiraled out of control, colliding against one another until suddenly a thunderous pain exploded within his skull.
His vision blurred, his knees buckled, and he collapsed as the pain surged without end. He struggled to hold onto reason, to anchor himself, but the darkness surged too fiercely, dragging him downward until no thought, no sound, no light remained.
Once more he drifted away.
And when at last his eyes opened again, his body froze completely.