"The Redhead still seems to be doing well. It's been a week since he arrived in that world, hm? Doesn't that mean I won the bet?"

The Harvester reclined in his armchair, staring at a floating screen relaying images of the 'extra' he'd found a couple of Harvesting shifts back. His female counterpart paced around behind him, interacting with several hundred [System] menus at once.

"I don't remember ever agreeing to that foolish bet of yours." She said stiffly, fingers blurring across each new window that appeared "I've half the mind to strangle you right now. Do you know how much of a mess you've made? Activities in the Harvesting Chamber have been suspended for an entire week!"

"Well as long as the Admin continues to be ignorant, it's merely a holiday for us, right?" he replied, eyes still fixated on the screen.

"They're investigating the incident. And they already know that one of the Harvesters gave him their Blessing."

"Meh. There's no way they can trace it back to us. Not under these circumstances,"

"You're still going on about that?" she sighed, dismissing her final batch of text windows with a single swipe "I can't believe I'm being roped into this scheme of yours..."

"It was an accident. Not a scheme."

"Whatever you say, Brother." Suddenly a new menu popped up in front of her, causing her to pause and scrutinize it suspiciously. The female Harvester tapped her brother lightly on the shoulder. "By the way, there's someone who's requesting for your audience."

"Just send them through," He replied, turning his screen into thin air "I'll deal with it."

Within a few minutes, a rift had torn itself open behind him. The newcomer's foot appeared first, glowing an intense red as it stepped out of the portal, then came two massive hands, gripping the sides of the entrance it had created. At last, the rest of the body effortlessly pulled itself through. It appeared to be a fellow Harvester, but judging from the red halos decorating its arm, it was a much higher rank than the two of them.

The brother stood up from his chair to address it.

"How can I help yo--?"

"I know it was you, H-089. You were the one who aided that mortal. Might I ask why?"

The brother paused, slightly taken aback by the newcomer's candidness, but quickly managed to recover after a few seconds.

"Oh? You believe it to be me? Is this the result of an official investigation or merely guesswork?"

"I have not come to play games with you," The newcomer said grabbing him by the neck and conjuring an array of shadow bolts behind him. "Tell me, what the hell were you thinking? Do you know how many of us were injured that day? My own apprentice was shredded into seven pieces!"

"And?" the brother asked unflinchingly, as his feet left the floor "They'll just regenerate. There'll be no lasting damage."

"They'll regenerate in a few centuries' time!"

"That isn't too long. Are you new here by any chance?"

He knew that he'd touched upon something he shouldn't, as dark energy began circling the newcomer's arm. In a few seconds, his head would be blown off by a Black Detonation. Not what he'd consider the most serious problem, but it would obviously be a pain in the neck. He couldn't continue watching his new favorite show for quite a while.

But was this Harvester seriously casting a Black Detonation of all things? He must be extremely inexperienced in combat...

"My time here does not concern you!" The newcomer yelled, both eyes and nostrils flaring. "Once the Admin finds out about this fiasco, we will all be permanently disposed of! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"It was merely an accident,"

"An accident!?" he cried incredulously "No! This must be a scheme! You want to wage war on the higher-ups, don't you?"

"That's what I said..." The sister interjected.

"Tell me about it," The newcomer continued "So that I may inform them and save our brethren in the process!"

The brother sighed, then thrust out his left arm in a slicing motion, imbuing his fingertips with Black Energy as he did so. The hand that had previously wrapped itself around his neck now hit the ground with a silent thud.

"Trust me," he told the newcomer "Fighting me as you are now, will only lead to your inevitable defeat."

The red Harvester took a small step back, staring at his adversary in apprehension.

"I do not wish to go against you, H-089." It said "But I notice you are not hiding your crimes anymore,"

"Because there is nothing to hide," he replied confidently "The Admin will never come to know of what he cannot see."

"Oh? And Is there a reason for such strong conviction?"

The brother approached the red Harvester and offered him the hand he'd just sliced off.

"The same reason why this mortal managed to enter the Harvesting Chamber in the first place," he said, preparing to cast his healing arts "That mortal's soul is colorless."

***

Although he'd just entered the underground tunnels about an hour ago, Buran had already lost count of the number of turns he'd made. The labyrinth was designed to be both complex and spacious so that it could maintain the security and capacity required for housing such a large number of prisoners. As the only son of the High Zharitan Chief, Turan, he was expected to be attending the Clan's diplomatic meetings, not prowling around in an unpleasant space such as this. But Buran had always struggled with fulfilling his duties, and that wasn't due to incompetence. He dreamed of a future where the Zharita Clan prospered under their own banner. Not Fleuwagia's.

They all talk of how they should satisfy that human kingdom's demands. Pathetic...

Buran continued down the dimly-lit passage, following his only guide in this maze: the echoes of agonized grunts and beatings.

After a few more minutes of walking, he finally came across a small cell occupied by three interrogators and the brutally battered man he was looking for. It was the rebel Count Undane, one of the founders of the current anti-monarchy movement in Fleuwagia. He'd recently checked the lists of prisoners that had newly arrived just a day or two ago and this particular name had piqued his interest.

So this is the man who failed to escape yesterday, hm? Look at how far you've fallen...

Although Buran detested the idea of working alongside humans to overthrow his father's leadership, he knew that only a fool would pass up this kind of opportunity.

"Enough, you three," Buran said, his deep voice resonating within the tunnel's musty air. "I will take over this interrogation."

"Y-Young Master?"

Upon noticing him, the three ogres instantly bowed their heads

"A-Are you sure, Young Master?" one of them asked "Doing dirty work like this is--"

Buran ignored him and entered the cell, taking the wooden baton from his grasp before crouching down in front of their victim. The former count simply stared at him, his eyes blank, half open. His stringy blond hair now hung over his bloodied face, which was covered with so many bruises and bumps, that Buran had to lean closer to make sure he was facing off with the right person. The only thing that kept the man recognizable, was the intense pride and resolve shining through his broken features. It seemed as though he had remained silent throughout the whole interrogation process.

This human still shows promise.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"Leave me," The chieftain's son said "I do not need any guards,"

After some hesitation, they heeded his words and left, leaving the former count at Buran's mercy.

"Your body is shattered, but I see that your spirit still remains intact," Buran began, slowly setting his baton aside "If there existed a human deserving of my respect, it would most probably be one such as yourself,"

"What do you want?" came the hoarse reply "If you wish for me to betray my men's whereabouts, then I'm afraid that there is nothing left for me to say,"

"I only wish to talk with you." Buran said, waving his large calloused hands dismissively "Not as an interrogator to interrogated, but as one revolutionary to another."

Still with his head facing downwards and arms chained to the walls, Count Undane watched the solitary ogre from the corner of his eyes.

"'Revolutionary'?" he muttered suspiciously "What do you mean?"

"You were planning a coup d'état before your untimely capture. You despise the current state of Fleuwagia, thinking that you could do better. And because of that, you've been slowly gathering a formidable force to pull that off." Buran allowed a short contemplative silence to descend before continuing "I am the same, you see. Like you, there is nothing I want more than seeing the current Fleuwagian leadership torn to shreds. I hate the human stains growing evident among Ogrekind. I hate how we dishonor our ancestor's legacy in the name of 'security' and 'progression'. And I deeply despise my father's tolerance for these crimes. Though his heart is in the right place, his methods only continue to plunge us deeper into the dark. You see, I also believe that there is no future in continuing things as they are,"

"You want me to join your cause?" The rebel leader summarised.

Buran, now sitting cross-legged in front of him, began to smile. He detested long speeches, let alone giving them.

"You are quick to understand, Count Undane. I am glad to be talking to a warrior and not a schemer."

But as those words left his mouth, the former Fleuwagian count suddenly slumped backward, resting his feeble body on the cold earthen walls. Buran frustratedly gripped the handle on one of the two blades at his side. Was he seriously being ignored? Or had the man already succumbed to his injuries? He didn't want his trip to be a waste of time...

"Are you still awake?" he asked, leaning closer toward him

"I am,"

"So what do you say?" Buran prompted "I'll send you back to your men in return for some manpower and information. Once we manage to overthrow my father, I am willing to assist in your coup d'état. Of course, I do not plan on interfering with any of your future designs."

The prisoner's reply came as a low, incoherent mutter.

"Can you repeat that?" Buran said leaning a little closer.

As soon as he was within arm's length, Count Undane raised his head, eyes blazing red with hatred.

"I said, 'Go choke on your sword, vermin,'"

Without any wasted movement, Count Undane immediately seized one of Ogre's blades and whipped it out diagonally, almost severing its owner's head from its body. Had it not been for his quick reflexes and instincts, Buran figured that the earthen walls would have already been painted red from his own blood. But the human's follow-up blows were relentless, forcing him to twist his body several more times, before narrowly evading a thrust to his heart and grabbing the Count's sword arm by the wrist. Buran's grip was vice-like. Nothing a measly human could escape from, whether they were Lunarys or not.

"So this is your response?" The chieftain's son muttered solemnly as he tightened his fingers, threatening to crush Count Undane's limb under his raw strength "It's a shame... However, I am still willing to spare you if you tell me the location of the man who freed you and your men."

"I'll tell you nothing about him," The count said through gritted teeth "Except that he is a man much greater than me or you! Mark my words; You'll fall by his blade the same way you're Second Chief did!"

Buran merely smiled and wrenched the sword out of the man's hand.

"I only wish to thank him. With my uncle out of the way, my job has been made much easier,"

Then he slashed the chains restraining the count and tossed the weapon back at the prisoner's feet. Caught off guard, Count Undane stared at him in brief bewilderment before picking it up.

"I won't deny you a duel to the death, good Count. I'll even the odds as much as possible," Buran said, a cold laugh escaping his lips as he unstrapped his breastplate, allowing it to hit the ground with a silent thud "Perhaps we should wait for nightfall? I know how much of a difference it makes in your fighting prowess,"

"Now is fine,"

"Perfect,"

The two pulled themselves up and assumed their stances, charging the musty air with overwhelming bloodlust. At first, they both stood relatively still, gauging each other's guard for any openings. But that didn't last long, as Count Undane first committed by feinting a thrust to the stomach, before following it up with a deadly vertical arc. His extraordinary agility and strength forced Buran to take a step back, catching the blow with the flat of his blade and deflecting it sideways to set up his own prompt set of slashes. As the adversaries exchanged blows at a blinding speed, Buran noticed that he was gaining the upper hand, gradually pushing the Count back with every attack. His Ogre strength was much superior to the Count's. And if things continued like this, he could quickly wind his opponent.

Hah. Is this all Fleuwagian swordsmanship has to offer?

Count Undane seemed to notice this, as he quickly changed his approach, opting for more deflects instead of static blocks. Then, shortly after guiding Buran's chop away from his chest, the Count slammed his dominant foot forward for a quick riposte to the Ogre's head. Buran felt the cold edge of his own blade slide painfully into his cheek, as he attempted to evade. But he wasn't ready to give up on his offensive advantage yet. Buran countered by transferring his momentum into a spinning slash, managing to surprise the human with a small gash to his left armpit.

They both drew back again, maintaining a meter distance between each other once again. But from that point onwards, all semblance of orthodox swordsmanship seemed to have left the Fleuwagian Count entirely. Almost as though successfully inflicting a wound had turned him wild like a shark in bloody waters.

Count Undane rushed Buran, crouching low at first, then springing his weight into another upwards slash. The ogre merely sidestepped, intending to hit the human whilst he was in mid-jump. But he was too slow.

What? How can this be?

The Count had somehow hit the ground faster than he anticipated, pivoting off his heel and aiming a slice at Buran's neck. He barely managed to parry it and tried to strike at one of the Count's many openings. However, despite being theoretically vulnerable, there was something about his animalistic and acrobatic display of movements that made him nigh impossible to catch. Within seconds, the Count had already vaulted onto the prison wall and used it as a springboard to propel himself onto the ogre's massive back.

"Enough of this foolishness!" Buran boomed, as the Count jammed the blade into his spine "I expected to be facing off with a proud warrior, not a wild beast!"

There was only one thing he could do now.

Buran charged backwards into the cell's gates, knocking the wind out of the human's lungs, before sheathing his weapon. His eyes were shut in deep concentration.

Heed the words of your Master, Monsoon Blade.

The scabbard instantly let out a bright azure light as it dissolved into a thousand raindrops, all frozen in mid-fall. And Buran held the blade firmly in his hand, glaring at the body of the Count as it fell from its collision with the cell's iron bars. After barking a single order, he felt the tip of his blade being guided by some sort of invisible force. Each raindrop has suddenly been sliced in half, fragmenting into smaller flecks of water that were no longer colourless, but mixed with the Count's blood. The human's lower half had turned completely into mince.

Buran sighed and picked up the blade he had lent to his potential comrade-in-arms, who now lay in pieces, still breathing raggedly.

"Young Master! We heard some commotion an--"

The three ogres which had appeared first looked at the chieftain's son whose face was covered in red, then at their prisoner.

"He's... dead?" they said, frozen in shock.

"Not yet," Buran replied, raising his sword "I suppose I should put him out of his misery."

The guards looked at each anxiously as though nudging each other to say something. At last, one of them stepped forwards.

"Y-Young Master... Y-You see, we received orders to keep him alive." he began "Our Fleuwagian Client was very p-particular about the prisoners he purchased."

"I see... No matter. I shall take responsibility for it,"

"As you wish,"

"Wait, there is a fourth among you whom I wish to speak with,"

The guards who had turned to leave now stopped in their tracks, looking around in confusion.

"Young Master, there is only us three,"

Buran shook his head and indicated to the opposite end of the underground passage.

"Come out, ogre," he called "You have been there for quite a while, haven't you?"

A fairly skinny guard slowly poked his head out and stepped into the dim torchlight.

"My apologies," the new guard said "I didn't wish to intrude on your business, Young Master. I am here to escort you out,"

"Oh? I was under the impression that I was being spied on." Buran mused "Am I wrong?"

"S-Spied? O-Of course not! Young Master, you jest..."

"Relax. I wouldn't kill someone who came to escort me. I am quite lost, you see."

However, before Buran could even make his way out of the blood-stained cell, he felt something grip his ankle. The dying Count Undane had pulled his upper half towards him and was now looking up at his killer in fury.

"Your days are numbered... Ogre vermin..." the Count gasped, moments away from his demise "The man who took your Uncle's life and freed us, will soon take yours..."

Buran crouched down, listening to his dying words in amusement. Perhaps he could get some information on this 'Uncle killer' after all...

"He waits in the shadows... and manipulates your every move..." Count Undane continued, "In the end, we are all his mere pawns whom he discards at will... And that... includes... you..."

The Count's eyes suddenly grew dull.

"What a shame..." The Chieftain's son muttered "You would have made a great asset. But perhaps there is someone out there who is more worthwhile."

***

A cold chill ran down Dar's spine, and he let out a violent sneeze.

["Are you ill?"]

"Probably..." He replied, pulling out his phone and checking the time. Of course, it was probably wrong. "I spent all of last night trying to come up with a plan to rescue you,"

"[You stayed up thinking about me~?]"

"Don't make it sound weird. I'm exhausted as hell right now. It's hard work y'know?"

["And I'm flattered. I guess I do tend to have that effect on people..."]

Etoile broke into a self-derisive giggle.

"Bro... with looks like yours, I can't imagine otherwise,"

["Hmph. Life isn't all that smooth when you're objectively pretty, 'Bro'. It's mostly the opposite. I'm sure you've had your fair share of similar troubles with that feminine face of yours. The girls do love a pretty boy, after all,"] The voice in Dar's head paused for a while before continuing. "[...But anyway, the plan better be something big-brained. Survivor's guilt isn't really my thing."]

"Sure, sure..."

["But no pressure. I trust you'll come up with something good."]

Dar let out another sneeze, causing him to drop his phone onto the floor.

["You sure you don't have a cold?"]

"..."

["Maybe someone's gossiping about you?"]

"Heh... Maybe..." Dar echoed, picking his device back up and checking for any screen cracks "Feels more like several,"

["Ehhh~ You must be pretty popular. So when do we get round to the rescuing?"]

"Tonight, I think. I'm just waiting for Fiel to come around and then we'll discuss the details. You should be seeing Dolly by tomorrow, if all goes well,"

["If all goes well, huh?"]