Nick's silence shattered under the noise from downstairs.
'That must be the guy who ran.'
'Can I escape? Yes. But if I let them live, they have evidence of me being here. So, Hesitation means death. It's them or me.'
His pulse raced, but his mind grew calm. He had already killed three people. The line was crossed. There was no turning back.
'They're criminals anyway. My life comes first.'
He no longer allowed himself the luxury of doubt.
Nick grabbed one of the corpses by the arm and began dragging it. The body thudded against each step as he descended, his blood-soaked dagger glinting in his other hand.
...
On the ground floor, four men stood with daggers and clubs, panic etched into their faces.
Their job had been simple: keep the kid and the woman's corpse hidden until the Veyra Knights came searching.
Once that was done, they'd be rewarded in gold enough to vanish far from here.
But now the plan wasn't unraveling like they thought.
"What do we do? He wasn't supposed to wake up yet!"
"Just knock him out. It's only a kid."
"Don't panic. Old Smith is here."
As if summoned, a brown-haired elder stepped into the room. His voice was sharp with irritation.
"What's with this noise? I can't concentrate on my work."
Relief washed over the thugs at his arrival.
"With Smith, we can handle this. He's also {Novice Stage} [Tier-1] too. Just clean up the mess and put the brat down."
The old man said nothing more. He sighed, his eyes flicking toward the stairs.
A sound broke the tense air. Footsteps. Slow and deliberate. The wet scrape of something heavy being dragged.
The room fell silent. The only sound was the echo of approach, pressing against their nerves like a drumbeat.
Then Nick appeared at the bottom of the staircase.
His shirt was crimson, his face smeared with blood. One hand clenched a dagger that dripped red; the other dragged the lifeless body of their comrade across the floor.
The men flinched when his gaze swept over them. His eyes were cold, stripped of hesitation, regarding them as nothing more than obstacles.
Any thought of knocking him out vanished. They understood at once.
This wasn't a drunk child anymore.
They had provoked something far worse.
Nick's gaze swept over the room. He opened his mouth once, closed it, then forced the words out slowly,
"You… all… come at me… at once…"
It wasn't that he couldn't speak. The new tongue twisted strangely on his tongue, each word jagged and clumsy.
'Wait… I don't have Luke's memories. So, how am I understanding this language?'
The thought barely formed when steel flashed in front of his eyes.
Nick jerked his head aside, the dagger missing him by an inch. His fist shot upward in response, smashing into the attacker's jaw. The man collapsed, eyes rolling back.
'Now isn't the time to get distracted.'
Three more thugs were charged. Behind them, the old man calmly pulled out an orange crystal that pulsed with heat.
Nick hurled the corpse he'd been dragging straight at the rushing men. The body collided with them, sending one sprawling and staggering the other two.
Nick pounced.
His heel snapped across a skull in a brutal reverse kick. In the same fluid motion, his fist slammed into another's temple. Both crumpled instantly.
Only two enemies remained, the red-haired thug scrambling to his feet… and the old man.
Nick turned toward the redhead, but a sharp voice rang out.
"...Fireball."
Glowing words appeared midair.
{ [Fireball: Low-tier F-rank skill, cast through a Fire Elemental Crystal.] }
A cannonball-sized orb of fire roared toward him.
Nick ducked low, the flames searing above him. His shirt blackened, the heat prickling against his skin.
The red-haired thug bolted for the door, leaving his allies behind.
The old man snarled, already drawing on the crystal again.
"Fire Pillar."
{ [Fire Pillar: High-tier F-rank skill…] }
The floor beneath Nick glowed. Heat surged upward.
His instincts screamed as he dove aside just as a column of fire roared into existence, scorching the spot he'd stood a heartbeat earlier.
The mage pivoted, raising the crystal again, but froze midway. Pain blossomed in his chest.
A dagger jutted from him, buried deep. He staggered, looking at Nick in shock.
Nick smirked. "Tch. I was aiming for your head."
The throw had been masked by the blaze of the fire pillar at perfect timing.
But instead of falling, the old man roared like a beast. He charged with every bit of strength his old bones mustered until he reached a burning barrel in the corner.
With trembling hands, he hurled the elemental crystal inside.
Nick's blood ran cold as glowing letters appeared.
{ [Warning: Low-Grade Fire Elemental Stone is about to explode. 20 seconds… 19…] }
"You… psycho…" Nick whispered.
The old man's laughter was manic, echoing through the house.
"I'll take you with me to hell!"
Nick's eyes widened. He turned and sprinted for the exit, the madman's laughter chasing him out.
Bursting out of the house, Nick didn't look back. He ran, lungs burning, legs screaming.
Questions bugged in his head, but two were louder than the rest:
'How can I understand their language without Luke's memories?'
'And what the hell are those glowing words I keep seeing?'
He shoved the thoughts aside, forcing himself to sprint faster.
A low-grade Fire Elemental Stone… if he remembered correctly, its detonation radius was at least fifty meters. More than enough to erase him.
Every second stretched. Every step felt like a lifetime.
BOOOOM!
The house vanished in a torrent of fire. The shockwave slammed into him, hurling Nick like a rag doll.
He crashed into a shallow pond, muddy water swallowing him. Tall grass and muck muffled the roar as a tide of fire rolled above, weakened at the edges but still blistering.
Nick coughed, gasped. His entire body screamed, bones aching, muscles trembling. His mind spun.
'Too much… all of this… it's too much…'
Darkness tugged at his eyelids. Just before he blacked out, a glowing blue colored interface surfaced in the air:
{ [You have altered a minor plotline.] }
{ [Reward: Luke Veyra's Memories.] }
{ [Calculating Fate points...] }
"…The fuck…"
His whisper was the last thing he managed before the world slipped away.