*Rudolf's POV*

The icy chill pierces my chest, countering the searing pain from the magma wound. Every breath is torture, every heartbeat agony. My vision blurs, thoughts grow hazy, but something in the mist created by the clash of hot and cold catches my attention. A shadow looms in the fog, and for a moment, a sudden sense of relief washes over me. I saw no way out, yet now someone is here, in this godforsaken place, apparently to save me. Who could be so crazy as to intervene for someone else's sake in a place like this?

The relief quickly turns to suspicion. Nothing is free, especially here, where wickedness reigns.

Despite my lack of clarity, I started to ponder three scenarios. First: the man before me has come here only to extort money from me. He doesn’t care about saving me but only about getting the loot. The second scenario: the man knows the orc already and came here for a showdown. And perhaps, after killing him, he would rob and kill me too.

Finally, I considered a third scenario, one that, although the best possible, greatly bothered me: that the mysterious man might know my identity. The only person I knew in this slum is the one I hate more than anything. The mere thought that it could be him, the man I so desperately wanted to kill, made my blood boil. The idea that my worst nightmare was here to save me was almost laughable, so I tried to dismiss it from my mind. I watched the man with growing interest and fear. Who was he really?

The mysterious man looked around, assessing the situation he had gotten himself into.

“Who the hell are you, microbe?” roared the orc in a threatening tone, baring his large, sharp canines in a blatant attempt to intimidate me and my "benefactor."

The mysterious man, however, did not speak, nor did he seem troubled by the orc’s menacing presence. From beneath his cloak, he pulled out a pouch full of coins and, without hesitation, threw it at the orc’s feet, the clatter of the coins breaking the silence that had reigned for several seconds.

“Take the coins and leave, Orc,” said the mysterious man decisively.

Greedily, the orc almost lunged at the coins with a grin. He opened the pouch, and to my great surprise, it contained a substantial amount of gold coins. Even the orc was surprised, not expecting such a quantity of money.

Weighing the pouch in his hand, he tried to estimate the amount. “Oh. How thoughtful… thank you!” the orc exclaimed in his deep, hoarse voice.

For a moment, I thought that damned monster would leave us in peace, but when I saw his face, I realized his greed wasn’t yet sated.

“You were kind to give me this pouch… But it’s not enough!” – suddenly, he increased his mana again, letting out a sinister grin – “This is only enough for you. You must pay his part too!”

The man remained silent for a few seconds, undeterred by the orc’s bloodthirstiness. “Be satisfied,” my benefactor said calmly and confidently. “Take the money and leave. And if you try to attack us, you won’t leave unscathed, that’s certain.”

“What?!”

The mysterious man’s words infuriated the orc, who let out a roar that echoed through the area. The orc took those words as an insult, almost as if he was being underestimated. His expression darkened further, a sign that, if there had been a faint chance of leaving unscathed before, now things had become much more complicated.

“What… the hell are you saying?” I asked, confused, pained, and furious, looking at the mysterious man with growing hatred. How could he underestimate the orc like that? He wasn’t a trivial opponent, and the severe scar on my body was proof of that.

The man turned slowly to me and, with an icy voice, spoke to me for the first time, “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

As I listened to his reassuring words, his voice triggered a strong sense of déjà vu. I still couldn’t see his face due to the large hood of his cloak, but something about him was strangely familiar. [No...] I thought, trying to deny what my mind was telling me. [It can’t be him...]

The orc, after a few moments of silence, started laughing. At the same time, there was a violent burst of mana that enveloped the whole area, and it became clear to both me and the mysterious man that the orc had decided to kill us both. “Then die… Microbes!”

With both hands raised to the sky, almost as if invoking something, a small fireball appeared. Slowly, the ball gathered energy, growing in size at a frightening speed. Only a few seconds passed, and that small harmless fireball had become an oppressive sphere of pulsating magma, illuminating the surrounding area. The sphere emitted unbearable heat that felt like it was slowly burning my skin. Its intense light blinded my eyes, forcing me to squint to avoid being dazzled.

At that moment, my mind was filled with primordial terror. The orc had proven to be much stronger than I had anticipated, and now I saw no possibility of escape. I saw that sphere of magma as a weapon of absolute destruction, a true condensed hell, ready to exterminate us without mercy. But while I was more than agitated, the mysterious man showed no signs of fear.

“AAARGH! DIE!”

The orc, with inhuman effort, hurled the sphere at us with a grin that almost reeked of victory. A grin that annoyed me greatly, but at the same time, I understood: I couldn’t see how the mysterious man, despite his confidence, could save us. But soon, I had my answer.

“...Mh.”

Without saying a word, the man raised his hand toward the advancing fireball. Suddenly, his body began to emanate an extremely cold wave of air, expanding toward the sphere. The orc didn’t notice at first, but then, slowly, his expression, which had been full of confidence moments before, changed dramatically when he saw his magma sphere begin to cool down, losing speed and that immense heat that characterized it.

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“W-What?! M-My sphere…”

By the time the sphere reached us, it had turned into a massive ball of ice, which shattered into countless fragments upon contact with the mysterious man’s hand, glittering in the air.

The orc stood silent, dumbfounded, his mouth agape, staring at what remained of his fireball. It was a normal reaction: no ordinary person could watch their best technique be disintegrated so easily.

Unlike the orc, however, after my initial surprise at the mysterious man’s technique, my mood shifted quickly, giving way to immense rage. I immediately recognized the technique the man used: it was Boreal Wave. Only my family, the Blueheavens, knew this technique. When the reality of the situation hit me fully, I finally understood... no, I accepted the truth. It was him; I was now damnably and furiously sure. After all, besides me and Elaine, he was the only living Blueheaven capable of using such a technique.

My heart faltered at that moment, sinking into a turmoil of emotions. Despite thinking I was ready to face my worst nightmare, the trauma caused by him was still alive in my mind.

The mysterious man, meanwhile, created an ice spear, and after twirling it for a few seconds, aimed it at the orc, who was still reeling from what had happened. “Leave, Orc. Or you will die by my hand.”

The orc heard those words, and at first, I’m sure he wanted to listen. But the rage was greater than the fear, and without heeding the warnings of that bastard, he gathered his courage, launching into a desperate attack.

“...So be it.” sighed the man, gripping the spear firmly.

With incredible speed, the man vanished from my sight and the orc’s, who, bewildered, looked around, searching for him with nervous and fearful eyes.

“Argh! My neck!”

Suddenly, the orc let out a cry of pain, coming from his neck. I don’t know exactly what happened; I couldn’t see anything, but suddenly, the orc stopped moving entirely, beginning to release copious amounts of purple blood from his mouth, his eyes slowly losing the light of life.

Then, slowly, a horizontal line, marked with blood, appeared along his neck, leaving me stunned. I began to understand what had happened, or rather, what my “benefactor” had done. The orc’s head began to slide slowly from the base of his neck, falling with a thud. Silence fell over the area as the head rolled to a stop, eyes wide open. The orc’s body, headless and with blood gushing out, started to freeze slowly, shattering in an almost artistic scene, but in truth, it was anything but artistic.

The mysterious man stood in silence, staring at the void before him for a few seconds. Then he turned, approaching me. My body stiffened. Although I hadn’t yet seen his face, I was now certain of his identity; there were no more doubts. And when he removed the hood from his head, even though his identity shouldn’t have been a surprise, my rage surged uncontrollably, struggling to contain myself.

It was him, my grandfather Traun.

Seeing his face brought back painful memories from my childhood: I saw myself as a child, mistreated, insulted, and heavily beaten by him, while he looked at me as if I were worthless scum. My hatred was palpable, and if it weren’t for the mission, I was sure I would have attacked him immediately without hesitation.

But then I saw something on his face that troubled me more than the painful memories that still burned into me: his face was streaked with tears, and his expression was sad. For the first time, I saw Traun in a state I had never seen before. I had always seen him as a heartless monster, a bastard who cared for nothing and no one. Yet, in that moment, he wept.

I didn't know what to say or do, and a phrase I never thought I would say to Traun slipped out of my mouth: "G-Grandpa..." I stopped. He was no longer my grandfather; I had rejected him and my family.

"Traun… why are you crying?"

Traun didn't respond immediately but fell to his knees, sobbing. I didn't understand what was happening, and the more I looked at him, the more surreal the situation seemed, making me wonder if the wound on my chest had somehow damaged my brain.

"R-Rudolf...my grandson..." Traun sobbed in a faint voice. "I never expected to see you here. Your father is dead, isn't he?"

Hearing those words, I started. How could he know? I wondered. My betrayal, at least to him, should have been unknown, something he couldn't have known because he had been confined here for years without news. Yet those words, so damned close to reality, scared me. My first thought was to escape. But the chest wound was more severe than I had thought, and I couldn't even get up from the ground, even though the bleeding had stopped.

[I'm... doomed] I thought as I looked at his figure, starting to tremble with fear. [Pathetic... I'm pathetic] I thought, closing my eyes and waiting for my end with terror.

However, Traun dried his tears, and in a gesture that shocked me more than his tears, he bowed before me. I was bewildered. Was this really happening? He, who had always despised me, was bowing to me. I didn’t mind it: seeing him grovel at my feet was almost pleasant. But at the same time, I felt a strange sensation: there was something deeply wrong with all this. Something I couldn't understand.

I was about to ask him the reason for his gesture when, with a firm and decided voice, he spoke first: "All hail, my King."

"...King?"

The title left me dumbfounded. King? Me? I couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh, which left Traun a bit puzzled, but he said nothing. The situation was absurd, far too much for my taste. I began to understand what was happening, but I still couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it. It was impossible.

Traun, with an emotional voice, spoke again: “I am glad to see you here safe and sound, my King, though the circumstances are far from ideal. Your presence here means that… Your father... My son... is dead, and you have taken his place, just as he always wished. And the fact that you are here also means the kingdom is in grave danger, and you have come to retrieve the Vastor Requiem, haven't you?”

[Just as my father... wanted? No, it can't be!] Those words, spoken with hope by Traun, shook my spirit deeply. I couldn't accept such a reality, such a scenario… I couldn't.

"Shut up, damn it!" I yelled, losing my temper, confusing Traun. I watched his surprised face, trying to stpidly understand what he said that pissed me so much. The situation still seemed surreal, but the more I looked at him, the more I understood that what he was saying wasn’t false.

I began to realize. To understand that my father and Traun had devised an emergency plan, in which if my father died, I would come here to seek him and retrieve the book. It was incredible, but the truth had to be this.

I should have been happy since my mission would now be easier. But instead, the discovery overwhelmed me. I had always believed that my father never considered me. I thought I would never become King, that the role was meant for Elaine, who had always been treated well by everyone. That’s why I had betrayed him, why I had committed the grave crime of killing my family. And now, destiny was playing a cruel joke on me, shattering every conviction I had always believed in with anger and hatred.

"No... No..."

Despair overwhelmed me at that moment. The wound and the shock were too much, both physically and mentally. I began to breathe heavily, and I saw Traun's gaze suddenly fill with concern. Then, suddenly, I lost consciousness, falling to the ground. Darkness slowly enveloped me, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the pain.

END OF CHAPTER 57 - UNWANTED HELP