The night grew silent after dinner. There was no proper camp set up for Michael and the others, only the dark sky above and the faint crackling of insects in the distance. Sleep refused to come to him. How could it? He had no idea how many days had passed while he lay senseless and unaware of time itself.
During that period, Lily had tried to explain the basics of magic to him. But Michael had yet to cast even a single spell.
According to Lily,
Magic requires mana energy.
Yet, no sign of mana could be detected in Michael's body.
Louis explained three possible reasons:
1. Some are simply born without mana.
2. Some lack a magic core altogether.
3. A curse can strip one's soul of mana.
There was also an ancient myth:
"Those who come from another world can never wield magic. For without even a spark of mana in the soul, magic cannot exist."
Though dismissed as just a legend, Michael felt its sting deep in his heart. Maybe it's true… maybe in this world, I'll never be able to use magic.
The thought left him restless.
"Then what can I do?" he wondered.
After a pause, Michael turned to Louis.
— "Louis! Then should I learn swordsmanship?"
Louis gave a mocking smirk.
— "Swordsmanship requires talent, strength, and discipline. You don't have it."
The words cut into Michael's pride. His jaw tightened. Nearby lay a broken tree branch—rough but sturdy. He picked it up and said firmly,
— "Then let's test it. Let's see if I'm worthy."
He tapped the stick lightly against his head, a challenge gleaming in his eyes. Louis rose, visibly irritated.
— "Very well. Tonight, I'll show you where the unworthy belong."
From the very beginning, Louis could not tolerate Michael—mostly because of Lily. She always treated Michael with a warmth and openness that Louis himself never received.
As Louis swung his strike down, Michael instinctively shifted his branch like a staff and blocked the attack.
Louis narrowed his eyes.
— "Hmph… using it like a staff?"
Both Lily and Catherine came closer, curiosity pulling them in. Catherine's gaze sharpened, analyzing every movement.
Michael was bewildered. His body was moving… naturally. Almost as if something within him already knew how to fight.
Alex… he was a general once. His weapon… was a staff.
A wicked smile spread across Michael's lips. "Even if I'm weak now, there's potential in me. I'm young—in Alex's body, in his prime. That means his abilities… are mine as well."
Suddenly, fragments of Alex's combat experience flooded his mind—stances, maneuvers, killing techniques. His body responded like it had always known them. Then, in a single fluid motion, Michael executed a special move.
Louis froze, his perspective twisting—he saw Michael appear behind him, and before he could process it, he stumbled forward and crashed to the ground.
Catherine's eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat.
Impossible… this skill… it can't be!
Her lips trembled as she whispered a single name:
— "Elis…"
Lily rushed to Louis, who lay face-down with blood trickling from his nose.
— "Ah! You're fine, it's just a small injury."
Catherine, however, remained lost in thought. At last, she said in a low voice:
— "I believe you should join us."
Michael's eyes lit up with surprise.
— "Really?"
Yet beneath the surface of his astonishment, his mind was already scheming—plotting with thoughts no one else could hear.
---
Meanwhile…
In Naya Town, near the capital.
A boy of eight or nine walked down the street. Suddenly, a tall figure in a green cloak bumped into him. His face was hidden beneath a hood and mask, making him almost unrecognizable.
— "Didn't see you there. Sorry." the man muttered.
The boy shook his head. — "It's fine."
The man moved on, entering a tavern. He climbed the wooden stairs up to the second floor and stopped before a door. From inside came muffled sounds, filled with heat and gasps.
He opened it slowly.
Inside—a young woman, strikingly beautiful, and a man in an intimate embrace. But before the moment could climax, a spray of blood burst like a fountain across the woman's face. The man's head had been pierced clean through.
The woman froze. Her entire body went stiff. For a heartbeat she couldn't even scream—her mind simply refused to accept what she saw. Her lips trembled, her breath shuddered, but no sound came out.
Then the shock slammed into her like a wave.
She realized she was naked. Terrifyingly exposed. Heat and shame rushed across her skin as her shaking hands scrambled for the bedsheet. She clutched it against her chest, desperately trying to cover herself while her wide eyes darted toward the doorway.
And there he stood—
the cloaked man in green, calm and cold, his presence heavier than the blood soaking the sheets.
The woman's pulse thundered in her ears. Every instinct screamed at her to shout, to run, to beg—but terror choked her voice. Her throat tightened until only a trembling whisper escaped.
— "M-my name… N-Niha…"
The man didn't respond immediately. He simply turned his back and spoke in a low, detached tone:
— "He met death at his peak pleasure. But you… you were not at fault. If you wish to live, then work. I can give you that chance."
He shut the door behind him.
Niha sat frozen for a long moment, mind spiraling. Blood still clung to her skin. Slowly, painfully, she wrapped the sheet tighter around her body, then stumbled to clean herself.
Later, dressed in a simple gown, she stepped out of the room—still trembling. Fear gnawed at her: Will he kill me too?
The man looked at her.
— "Why choose this kind of life? You could've done other work."
Niha gave a hollow, broken smile.
— "Who would marry someone like me? Who would love me?"
The man's silence stretched. Then, after a pause, he asked quietly,
— "Family? Anyone left?"
Niha lowered her gaze.
— "No. None."
She walked past him, stopping near her home. He followed briefly.
— "So this is your house."
He turned to leave, but she caught his arm. Her voice shook.
— "Your name… who are you? Why did you kill him?"
He freed his hand and stepped forward, replying without looking back:
— "I am Chris. A knight. His death was necessary. If he lived, many more would have suffered under his curse."
With that, he walked away.
But after a few steps, he turned again and said,
— "If you truly want to change your life, meet me tomorrow. Market square. Left alley. The work is as my personal assistant. The pay won't be much… but it will free you from this filth."
Then Chris disappeared into the shadows.
Niha stood frozen under the moonlight—her heart torn between terror, hope, and confusion.