Changed Fate 5

1 minute, 2 minutes, 3 minutes…

Time passed.

Slower than any moment he had ever experienced.

The longer it went on, the more suffocated he felt. The wardrobe that had once comforted him now seemed to choke the air from his lungs and throw his heartbeat into disarray.

He felt uneasy and worried.

7 minutes, 8 minutes, 9 minutes…

Is she okay?

What if other Noarkans found her?

What if something terrible happened?

In the pitch-black darkness, scenes of misfortune swirled through his mind.

Badump!

It was another kind of instinct.

Though this time, the instinct wasn’t about himself.

It was about someone else.

10 minutes, 11 minutes, 12 minutes…

Sven Parav didn’t rest for a second, pressing his ear tightly against the wardrobe door and listening.

Listening.

The last thing he heard was Lyris Marone and the woman she saved hiding the body and entering the building across the road. After that, he could barely hear anything.

It seemed like they were hiding well inside…

Clank. Clank. Clank.

Every time enemy troops passed by the street, a chill ran down Sven’s spine.

This wardrobe is safe.

The instinct that had saved him countless times in his life said so.

But…

20 minutes, 30 minutes, 40 minutes…

Was the building across the street safe too?

His “intuition” said “no”. Even setting that aside, reason alone told him it wasn’t safe.

If it were, that woman hiding there wouldn’t have been dragged out by lackeys in the first place.

Then it happened.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

Another group of armored soldiers clanked down the road and came to a stop.

Clank—

Their footsteps stopped in front of the building.

He prayed they would just pass by, but as expected, his gut feeling was correct.

“They disappeared while patrolling this area?” a voice asked.

“Yes, their last reported position was around here.”

“Hah… You really think they came all the way out here just to screw around?”

“Probably looking for something valuable to pawn off.”

“Or maybe looking for women.”

Unlike the disciplined tone of the Raphdonian army, their conversation felt distinctly Noarkan. That only made him more anxious.

He could easily imagine what would happen if those two were caught by such men.

But—

Badump!

Come to think of it, the world had always been like this.

Every stroke of bad luck seemed fueled by his worry and anxiety. The more afraid he became, the more things went wrong.

Just like now.

“…Wait. I sense death energy.”

“Death energy?”

“It’s faint since time has passed… but someone definitely died here.”

“Can you give me more details?”

“Wait a second.” A long, tense silence followed before the man spoke again. “About an hour ago, three people died.”

Though the man’s voice was quiet, Sven Parav, his body enhanced by divine power, heard every word clearly.

“That matches the number of people who went missing, and the timing too—about an hour ago. It’s more likely they were our men.”

“From what I can see, they moved the bodies and used magic to erase the bloodstains, cleaning everything up thoroughly.”

“So even your dark magic can’t track where the culprit went?” asked the man Parav suspected was the commander.

And Parav hoped with all his might that wasn’t the case.

Then…

“Hmm… Dark magic isn’t omnipotent.”

“…I see.”

“But I can read where the bodies were taken. They were moved into that house over there.”

“The culprits might still be inside. We’ll have to check.”

“…I see.”

“But I can read where the bodies were taken. They were moved into that house over there.”

“The culprits might still be inside. We’ll have to check.”

“We will. Judging by how cleanly they wiped the bodies, they seem skilled… but people like that often don’t know much about black magic. If I hadn’t sensed the death energy, I wouldn’t have known at all.”

“Just in case, I’ll report before we move in. Hey, Rexton!”

The presumed commander called out to someone, who recited something in a rigid tone. Parav guessed he was reporting to the main forces.

Damn it.

His thoughts tangled again.

Should he act now and stop them from reporting?

Or just stay still?

If they searched the house and still failed to find Marone or that woman… that would be the best possible outcome…

“Captain! All information has been reported!”

While he hesitated—

It was already over.

He had missed the golden time.

Now all he could do was watch.

“Battle formation. We don’t know the enemy’s strength. Proceed with caution.”

The Noark soldiers carefully entered the building.

After that—

Each second stretched like eternity.

Badump.

Badump.

Badump.

It felt like an eternity of uncertainty over whether he’d made the right decision.

About seven minutes later, the outcome was revealed.

“……Ca, Captain!”

K-boooooom!

“Aaaaagh!”

Explosions and screams rang out at the same time, assaulting his ears.

And the battle began.

“…K-Kyaaah!”

Just as you’d expect from a former military mage, Marone responded swiftly even after her cover was blown. In the end, though, she was defeated.

“Damn it… seven of us died because of this bitch—”

Thud!

A heavy thud echoed, followed by the groan of a familiar voice.

“……Wait a minute, that face looks familiar.”

“Lyris Marone! She’s a military mage and an ally of Bjorn Jandel!”

“What…? Hahahah! Hahahaha! This is a huge achievement!”

“If we take her back alive, we’ll get an incredible reward!”

Capture.

At that word, Sven Parav unknowingly felt hope rise again.

But—

“Eh? What are you talking about? That’s old news. Orders from above said there’s no need to bring them back alive anymore.”

“…Ah… is that so?”

“But killing her nicely would be a waste, right?”

“I lost one of my arms too!”

Even that tiny bit of hope crumbled away.

Thud!

Another heavy blow rang out.

Sven closed his eyes and quietly steadied his breathing.

Thump!

His “instinct” seized control of his heart and spoke to him.

If, right now, he covered his ears and looked away—

Badump—

He will live.

“Still, let’s get the intel first. She might have comrades.”

 

ven if Lyris Marone, who risked her life to save others, dies

“…Hey! Speak! Are you alone? Where are your comrades?”

“Well, she’ll open her mouth if we torment her.”

He will live.

“Oh! Commander! There are more people inside!”

“…K-kyaaaagh!”

Even if innocent citizens die.

“L-leave those people alone!”

“Wow, look at her face change?”

Clearly, He will live.

However…

“Waaaaah—!”

“What, there was a brat too?”

“P-please! My baby! Just save my baby!”

Is that really right?

“N-no!!”

Sven Parab no longer questioned himself.

「Sven Parab has cast [Blade of Condemnation].」

***

“—Huff… huff… huff…”

He calmed his labored breathing and continued to run.

There were two reasons for doing this.

Regular breathing lets a person run longer.

And…

“Chase him—!!”

Right now, running longer was the only way to live.

“Huff… huff… huff…”

Brown Rottmiller sprinted through the familiar forest trails, giving it his all.

It wasn’t that he had deserted or anything like that.

First, he had to retreat from the city walls due to the initial barrage of mana cannons pouring down from them. After that, the overwhelming difference in numbers completely collapsed the front line, and the retreat order was given.

It was a perfectly rational excuse.

The real plan was to pretend to retreat, stretching the battle line as wide as possible so the elite unit could strike the enemy from behind.

That was information he’d only heard because he used to be Jandel’s companion.

But—

Thudthudthud—

The weight of the title former companion…

was heavy. Far too heavy.

“That’s the one Jandel cherishes!”

“Catch him! He’s worth at least a Level-3 essence!!”

The pursuit was absurdly persistent.

That was exactly why he was running alone through the dense forest.

At first, he’d been with the other barbarian warriors.

But it hadn’t taken long to realize he was only holding them back.

So he ran and ran again.

Unlike Jandel’s current allies, he didn’t have the strength to fight and win against dozens of soldiers.

But if he kept running, he could at least keep those dozens tied down.

That was the most he could do as a retired scout explorer.

Badump, Badump, Badump, Badump!

Ignoring his heart that screamed he’d hit his limit—

BOOM—!

He burst his last remaining smoke bomb and kept running—

Fwoosh—

Then an arrow tore through the smoke and pierced straight through his abdomen.

The impact knocked him off balance, and his body slammed into the muddy ground.

Running is impossible.

Rotmiller judged instantly.

He crawled and climbed the nearest tree he could manage.

In that moment, an arrow tore through the smoke and pierced his abdomen. The impact sent his body spinning into the muddy ground.

‘Running is impossible.’

Making a split-second judgment, Rottmiller found the sturdiest-looking tree nearby and scrambled up.

At that moment, an artificial wind swept through, clearing the smoke, and the pursuers swarmed the area below.

“Dammit, where did he go?”

“Did we lose him?”

“I don’t see my arrow. I think I hit him!”

“Then he couldn’t have gone far. Find him…!”

As the pursuers moved busily beneath the tree, Rottmiller made another cold assessment.

What must he do to survive?

Though he had retired without ever reaching the upper floors, his long years of navigating the labyrinth allowed him to make the correct choice.

‘I have to treat the wound.’

The longer the search lasted, the more likely he was to be discovered. In his current state, he would be captured without a fight.

Treating his condition came first.

But since the pursuers were crawling all over the ground below…

‘As quietly as possible.’

He pulled the arrow out of his abdomen with his own hand.

Then he bit down on it like a gag—

Sssss—

and poured a potion over the wound.

That pain that always made him wonder if healing was really worth it—

He felt a sudden, renewed respect for Jandel.

That man had always fought while enduring this kind of pain.

How was that even possible?

Even as he asked himself, he already knew the answer.

To survive.

His jaw clenched instinctively and his veins bulged as blood rushed to his head, but Rottmiller swallowed the scream.

However…

“Hm?”

His luck was bad.

He had made the best possible judgments and done everything within his power, but—

“…Sh-shit! You scared me!”

It was simply a matter of bad luck.

The person who found him was the only one among the busy pursuers slacking off to take a leak.

Thwip!

The pursuer, who happened to look up while finishing his business, immediately fired an arrow from his crossbow. It pierced Rottmiller’s thigh.

Thud!

His battered body tumbled to the ground.

By the time he regained his senses, he was already surrounded on all sides.

“Ha! So this is the neck that’s worth at least a Level 3 essence. What’s the call, Captain?”

“The capture order was revoked a while ago. Just take his head and ID and return.”

They discussed a human life in an absurdly businesslike manner.

And just like that, his fate was sealed.

“Mind if I do it?”

“You?”

“When else would someone like me get to cut off Jandel’s companion’s head?”

“…Do what you want.”

The man assigned to execute him slowly spun his dagger as he approached, a sly look on his face.

“This’ll hurt a bit. The blade’s short, so I’ll have to saw.”

Instead of meaningless begging—

Rotmiller closed his eyes.

He realised that he had, at most, only a few dozen seconds left.

Faces of people he missed flooded his mind:

His parents, who died because they couldn’t pay taxes.

The orphanage director who had raised him kindly.

The mentor who taught him pathfinding without asking anything in return.

Memories of everyone he’d been grateful to passed by.

Life had always been hard.

But there had been happy times too.

If he had to pick one, it would be…

“…Yeah. That time was the best.”

“Hmm?” The sneaky-looking man froze at Rotmiller’s muttering. “What’s this bastard talking about?”

What was Hikurod doing while all this chaos was unfolding? Did he make it out safely?

He hoped so.

Even if his forge was swallowed by the war, survival came first.

…I should’ve visited more often.

Regret washed over him.

More faces surfaced.

Misha Karlstein.

Bjorn Jandel.

And…

‘Leor Wuerv Dwalki.’

Would his friend greet him with a grin? Or get mad that he’d come too early?

He didn’t know.

But somehow, he found himself smiling.

“…He’s smiling?”

Well, of course.

Only now, when this moment had truly come, did he finally understand something.

“Seriously…”

He used to think—

When that time came, maybe he would finally understand his friend’s heart.

What a ridiculous thought.

“…He really was an incredible guy.”

And what about himself?

Brown Rotmiller.

An ex-explorer who was left behind because he was too ordinary to stand beside the people he cared for.

The end of this explorer was, until the very last moment, ordinary.

“Keep talking nonsense. You ready to be carved?”

He wanted to live.

He didn’t want to die.

He felt there were so many things he had put off, and so much life still left to be lived.

However…

Srrrng!

This was truly the end.

Rottmiller quietly closed his eyes, and one last face drifted through his mind.

It wasn’t the benefactor who had changed his life, nor was it his cherished comrades.

Even though the time they had known each other was short…

‘I should have been a little more honest.’

Good grief.

How could there be so many regrets?

“May the Star of Twilight lead us…”

Like most ordinary people facing death, he called upon the name of a god in his final moment.

And then…

BOOOOOOOOOM—!!!

He snapped his eyes open at the sudden, deafening explosion. He didn’t know what was happening, but—

Thankfully, it seemed

“What do you think you’re doing to my scout right now?”

There was still more of his story left to be told.

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