A loud thumping echoed through the cave.
– Thud! Thud! Thud!
The noise was so immense that it was hard to believe it was just the sound of heads colliding with the ground.
“…”
I rolled my eyes toward the source of the sound. There was Lucius, drenched in blood, being hugged from behind by Elia, who was crying and trying to stop him from going on.
“Lucius, stop it…! Please… I’m okay!”
“…I’m sorry.”
Lucius seemed to be suffering from some sort of PTSD, continuously uttering apologies despite Elia’s pleas.
And my feelings while watching this were…
“Umm…”
Honestly, it was almost comical how unaffected I felt.
I didn’t ponder why for long.
After all, they’re essentially like protagonists from a novel, right? Even if they fumble along the path of growth and face adversity, they’re destined to emerge stronger as a Hero and a Saint in the end.
Even if I wanted to worry, I couldn’t find it in me to do so.
Some might say, “No matter what, you caused this, shouldn’t you feel guilty?” What a ridiculous statement.
I’d honestly respond to them saying, “Why should I feel that way?”
If we consider the original flow of events, had I not been born into this world, neither I nor the Nameless would exist here.
Which means it would have just been the Saint and Lucius who made it here.
Do you know what would have happened then?
Lucius, the Hero, would have been unable to even approach that Jackal properly, and he might’ve even failed to protect the Saint. It could have turned into a real disaster.
Isn’t that right?
No matter how capable Lucius is at glimpsing brief futures, he’s not infallible. If the Nameless hadn’t been here and the chains binding them were all directed towards Lucius, would he have been able to dismantle things so easily?
It’s a bit awkward to say, but he was carrying the burden of the Saint after all.
Even if we were to think as positively as possible, even with some outrageous miracle, the Jackal would’ve recovered and fled.
I can assert this without any doubt.
Had the Nameless and I not existed, Lucius would definitely have been defeated by the Jackal.
Given that situation, for someone like me, or the Nameless, to have contributed as significantly as we did in this battle, anyone aware of that couldn’t possibly say I caused harm.
What sort of thinking is that?
I should be satisfied that the situation ended without anyone getting hurt.
With a sense of futility, I sighed deeply.
It really isn’t fair.
Just by timing my birth right and being chosen by the gods, they’ve been endowed with such indomitable spirits and the strength to overcome adversity.
Of course… I know they work hard too.
How could I not know?
The muscles clinging to their bodies, the calluses formed on their hands, and even the hidden wounds that aren’t visible on the outside—all of that is earned through bone-crushing effort.
But I really can’t bring myself to believe they’ve reached this level purely through effort.
There must’ve been some sort of destiny involved, right?
For instance, with the brilliant energy they radiate, the bond of the Hero and Saint, and the people in the north like Camilla who helped them grow.
It’s all interconnected, like fate.
If I ventured a little further, I could also become a part of their destiny, right?
It’s absurd.
Shouldn’t I be happy that no one was injured, that we managed to get away from the demon without casualties? Why then was I burying my head in the ground in frustration for not catching the demon?
Why would I ruin what could have been a good mood?
“…”
I bit my lip. A bitter taste spread across my tongue.
Bad thoughts began creeping into my mind, consuming me little by little.
However, that can’t happen.
I am a Master.
I must show only the best side to my disciple, the Nameless.
So, I want to sulk a bit—to soak it in alone.
Before I say anything—
I’m fully aware this is an excessive leap rooted in my paranoia.
…
What’s so different about me and them, really?
I was chosen by that damned god, lost my precious connections without any warning or reason, and fell into this place 300 years ago.
With no information or purpose, I swung my sword for 300 years, consumed by hatred and loneliness.
In those long 300 years, what kind of destiny did I stumble upon? What retribution did I receive?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Instead, I look like a fool, chuckling along, oblivious, almost as if it’s the god’s intention to let me feel this way.
I feel like a mere tool, used and discarded to help them navigate through adversity.
If that’s the case,
How about ruining the picture that the so-called god wanted? That could be some small act of revenge, couldn’t it?
“…”
I shook my head vigorously.
I need to cool down. My mind is overheating.
If I keep being consumed by these thoughts, I might actually do something bad to them.
That would be troublesome for the Nameless.
Just as I was about to shuffle my feet to comfort the Hero…
“Master.”
The Nameless placed a hand on my shoulder.
Hmm, I wonder what my expression looks like right now? I don’t want to show my ugly side to the Nameless if I can help it.
I turned my head enough so that the Nameless wouldn’t see my expression and spoke.
“Ah, Nameless.”
“Did you do something, Master?”
“…”
The way they spoke felt like they were blaming me, making me flinch with a start.
Still, I didn’t want to hide my ugly thoughts from the Nameless, so I nodded small enough.
…They would definitely be disappointed with such a pathetic Master.
I waited in small tension for what the Nameless would say next.
“After all, you are my Master!”
“…Hmm?”
With a voice unfit for the situation, overly enthusiastic, I turned my head to look at the Nameless.
The Nameless was looking at me, a wide grin on their face, radiating pure joy.
“Yes, I was stumped on how to deal with that demon, stuck in a dilemma.”
The Nameless’s voice was brimming with energy.
“Yet you, Master, chose both options, making my dilemma seem foolish!”
There was an undeniable, even shameless, reverence shining in the Nameless’s expression.
Huh…? Why’s the Nameless acting like this? Have they ever been this openly flattering before…?
Their exaggerated compliments caught me off guard.
But despite my bewilderment, I couldn’t help smiling a little.
“Is that so…?”
“Yes, indeed, Master!”
The Nameless’s eyes sparkled with admiration.
As I gazed into those twinkling eyes, I struggled to form the words on my lips.
“How amazing was it?”
How ridiculous, I was just trying to satisfy my own need for recognition.
The Nameless instantly fulfilled that desire with a gleeful grin.
“What would be the point of answering, Master? I’ve been proud to have you as my Master for these past seven years.”
Just moments ago, I had felt as if I had reached rock bottom, but the Nameless’s words lifted me up into the sky.
I wanted to hold on to this feeling for as long as I could.
So, even though I knew the answer, I asked the Nameless once again.
“Are you teasing me?”
“I am not teasing you.”
My lips had risen to the point they could almost reach my ears.
Just a little bit more, I wanted to hear more.
I pivoted slightly, moving closer to the Nameless and then jumped up. They didn’t hesitate to reach out and catch me.
I could see the sparkle in the Nameless’s ruby-like eyes reflecting my pitch-black ones.
Our noses brushed against each other.
“So you truly think so?”
“Yes, I truly do.”
The Nameless’s words felt like a balm soothing something twisted within me, even in the dark, damp confines of the cold cave.
“Really, truly?”
“Yes, truly, truly.”
For some reason, it felt warm and cozy, and I couldn’t help but smile.
Ah, so I hadn’t received nothing in return after all.
I, too, had a bit of fate intertwined with this.
“Truly, indeed!”
“Yes, truly.”
Unlike the Hero and Saint, we sat across from each other in this mismatched situation, grinning like fools.
…
Meanwhile, the Jackal who had managed to escape from that chaos.
“Demon King… where the hell is this…?”
Before him stood a statue that looked strangely familiar, surrounded by an uncountable number of people bowing down.
What a bizarre sight.
“Long live!!”
Above the statue they were bowing to, there was not the name of the Demon King who sent him here.
Instead, inscribed above was the name of an unknown demon, written as Cheonma (天魔).
“…What is this?”
