Chapter 7: A Taste of Freedom
Elvas stepped into the human world, the air sharp and unfamiliar, buzzing with sounds that clawed at his senses.
Horns blared, voices rose and fell, and lights flashed in colors he had never seen before. Crossing the oath felt like tearing through invisible chains—the barrier that had kept him locked inside Avalon his whole life was gone. For the first time, he was free.
But the word "free" didn't sit right.
After choosing to delete a player, the system had flashed its message—a player removed from existence—and then the doorway appeared.
He still didn't understand what "player" meant. The word rattled in his head like a puzzle with missing pieces, but he shoved the thought aside. If he kept thinking about it, he'd drown.
The city swallowed him whole. Towering buildings scraped the clouds, machines roared across the streets, and people brushed past him in a blur. Elvas's eyes darted everywhere, wide, drinking it all in.
His chest rose with exhilaration, but unease gnawed at him. Every glance thrown his way felt like a spotlight.
A man muttered to his friend, not bothering to lower his voice. "That kid's acting weird. Probably high."
The words stung, a reminder that even here—in a world that didn't know him—he was still the outsider.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking, sneakers scuffing against the pavement. His path led him down narrower streets until he reached a dark alley, its walls smeared with grime and graffiti. That's when he saw them.
Five men circled a young woman, their jeers and laughter slicing through the night. She pressed against the brick wall, clutching her bag like a lifeline. Her wide eyes shimmered with fear, her lips trembling as though words had abandoned her.
Elvas froze. His chest tightened, and memories clawed their way back—his mother's screams, her blood soaking into the dirt, his powerless hands trembling as he watched. He swore, right then and there, never to let it happen again to any woman or lady.
He stepped forward. "Hey," he said, his voice shaky but edged with steel. "Leave her alone."
The men turned, laughter dying as their eyes settled on him.
A tall brute with a shaved head sneered. "Kid, get the hell out before you lose a bone."
Elvas's pulse hammered, but he kept his ground. His gaze flicked to the woman—tears clung to her lashes. That sight alone hardened him.
"I'm not asking," Elvas said, steady now.
Another man, gripping a baseball bat, stepped out of the circle. His grin was twisted, hungry for violence. "This is your warning. Walk away, or regret it."
Elvas didn't move. The promise burning in his chest was louder than his fear.
The man's grin widened as he swung the bat in a brutal arc. Elvas reacted on instinct—his body blurred, speed surging through him. He caught the bat mid-swing, wood splintering beneath his grip. The crack echoed off the alley walls as the pieces clattered to the ground.
The gang stumbled back, eyes wide, bravado bleeding into fear.
"I said," Elvas growled, his voice low, dangerous, "leave her alone."
The youngest of the group, a scar cutting across his cheek, shouted and lunged. Fists flew wild, but Elvas moved like water, slipping aside and shoving him to the ground. The others rushed, but they dropped in seconds—groaning, clutching their sides, their courage shattered.
When the dust settled, Elvas turned back to the woman. She trembled, still pinned to the wall, her breath coming in sharp bursts.
He crouched beside her, his tone softening. "Are you okay? Can you stand?"
Her nod was shaky, but she let him help her up. Her hand was cold, fragile in his.
"What was that?" she whispered, eyes wide with awe. "How did you move like that?"
Elvas scratched the back of his neck, a nervous laugh escaping. "Just… something I picked up. Fighting class, you know?"
The truth was forbidden. Humans weren't allowed to know about Avalon, demons, or the oath.
She smiled faintly, brushing dark hair from her face. Gratitude softened her fear. "Thank you. I don't even want to think about what would've happened without you."
Her eyes lingered on him, curious. "Do you live around here? Maybe I could thank you properly someday."
For a moment, Elvas let himself feel the warmth spreading through his chest. A human smile, soft and genuine, directed at him.
"Yeah," he said, though his voice held a trace of distance. "But my place is kind of far."
He glanced at his wrist, where a strange watch glowed faintly. It hadn't been there before—he'd found it in his pocket after crossing the oath. Its hands pointed firmly to midnight.
The woman frowned. "That's weird. It's barely nine."
Elvas froze. His heart skipped, realization striking—time in Avalon didn't move like this world's. He forced a laugh, tucking his wrist behind his back. "It's just a custom piece. Doesn't keep time right."
How could he tell her that he didn't belong here, that time itself betrayed him?
"I should go," he said quickly, nervous energy sparking in his voice. "But maybe… maybe I'll see you again."
She gave a soft smile, one that warmed him in a way he wasn't used to. "I hope so. Be careful out there."
He nodded, turning away. His feet carried him into a run before his doubts could anchor him.
He didn't stop until he slipped back across the oath, the barrier shimmering like a closing door. The air of Avalon wrapped around him again, familiar but suffocating. He stumbled into his room and collapsed onto his bed, chest heaving.
For the first time, adrenaline buzzed through his veins not from fear—but from life. He pressed a hand against his chest, grinning despite himself.
"That was real," he whispered, almost in disbelief. "I helped someone. They didn't know me. They didn't hate me."
The woman's smile replayed in his mind, soft and untainted by prejudice.
As his eyes drifted shut, sinking into the mattress, hope flickered. Tomorrow could be different. Maybe—just maybe—he could carve out a place where he wasn't a curse, wasn't just a demon.
A place where he could belong.