Skills: Defined by one’s proficiency in any and all things.
Or at least how I’ve always seen them.
A part of me that I still have agency over and a constant reminder of what I am. What I’ve done over the span of my life.
Again and again.
Over and over.
Hurdle after each and every expanding hurdle.
The physical power I lack. The magical prowess I lack. All reminders of the fact that I am lacking in everything, even something basic as a functioning body, so that’s why I need these skills. They are all I am. All I will ever have.
I must…
“Clank!!!” Two blades clashing echoes throughout the cavern chambers. Sounds of two opposing forces with a single goal.
… Survive. But it’s not enough.
*Clank* *Clank* *Clank*
I cannot just be good, great or even superb. I have to be more than all those words.
I must be…
Three brown widows double my size eyeing me down. Of course they were. I was their prey, after all. A meager meal for them, but it’s not like they had any other options currently. Two of the larger ones stood directly in front of me, waiting for my next move, the third above me observing from afar.
Had I been an Elf Woman, then my flame of sinners would surely burn them to a crisp and any others who dare to stand in my way.
Had I been an Orc Man, my skin would surely have been thick enough to avoid the poison and my strength more than enough to rip them to shreds barehanded.
However, I am neither yet either.
Their scythe-like limbs that fracture cave’s walls with each step would surely puncture holes into my lanky frame with ease.
If I had any fire to conjure up would surely backfire on my body until I eventually collapse from the injuries and if a single drop of venom from their bite enters my body, then I may as well take the knife in my hand to destroy my core. At least then, I wouldn’t have to face being torn apart alive.
If I had been stronger, then perhaps clashing blades and countering would be an option.
If I had been more adept with a weapon or spell of longer reach, then fighting at a distance would be another choice.
But none of them are mine. Even if I had knowledge of how those abilities function, it would not save me as long as my current predicament remained the same.
My knife was no longer than half my biceps, and five and a half wand length arms the maximum reach I had. The footing of the cavern course, making it difficult for precise footwork, so a speedy retreat was a non-factor. And that one spider above must have a ranged ability or a way to gap close judging by the way it’s handling me despite the numbers advantage.
Truly a dire situation.
But I have my skills. Even without magic or physical build, I can rely on them. No. I will utilize them.
Not good, great or even superb. Absolute perfection.
Use every last skill to their utmost precisely and exactly when I need to, with no margin of error on either side.
Because if I don’t. If I’m not absolutely perfect, then tomorrow’s Divine Flames Rise will be just a distant dream.
That’s why I’ll fight. The reason I won’t die. That’s why I live.
The left brown widow lunges forward with [Venom Assault] indicated by its glowing white fangs. I could easily fend off a bite of that magnitude using my knife, but the right brown widow quickly follows and initiates a dashing half-circle motion with [Crescent Dash] to get behind me.
As expected, with numbers misdirecting my attention away from the front by abusing my blind spots to cause me to panic. If I were to block it with my knife, the front they’d destroy or remove it and if I turn my attention elsewhere, a lethal attack awaits. No matter which I defended against, it was a lose-lose situation, be it my weapon or life. Worst of all, evasion is pointless if the third one counters wherever I ran.
Therefore, my life lost if and when they surrounded me.
More accurately, it would be if I failed to stop them using one method, I had to create an opening using my own skills to avoid this pincer attack of theirs. The only option I needed to rely on was not just in this moment, the ones I had been my entire life.
I will trust my skills. And. I will live!
I activate [Baleful Hunt] marking the dashing brown widow with a bright red outline. [Baleful Hunt], a skill that marks an enemy, then forces my body to leap towards the target for a heavy strike on its head. It was my most powerful attack, able to pierce the armor-like shell of these creatures with ease and attack their core for critical damage. However, I could only use this skill while holding a knife and unarmored, not to mention doing so would leave me wide open to retaliation from an outside party caused by the delaying effect caused activating it.
As I ready my forced jump, I keep track of each motion, starting from my squat and counting down the seconds until my feet left the ground. Then and only then can I enact the next part of my strategy. As the venomous brown widow fangs nearly bite down on my neck using the opportunity presented to it, the toe of my boot raises off the earth by a hairs margin and I use it.
I activate [Sinful Stalker] causing me to appear directly in front of the dashing spider in the center of its [Crescent Dash]. [Sinful Stalker] is a skill that directly transports the user directly in front of the marked target if holding a single knife and is usable while in the air.
If a marked target uses a skill of any kind, then the sub-skill [Opportunist] appears shown by my now glowing blue knife. Using [Opportunist] I slash it upwards knocking the brown widow out of [Crescent Dash] causing it to blink red then from behind shadow of myself slams it with [Baleful Hunt] into the ground making the brown widow shatter into purple fragments.
[Skill Canceling] and [Shadow Skill].
To explain what had just happened, I used a skill to cancel another skill while another the other remains active. Using [Baleful Hunt] will leave you vulnerable or unable to use its effect unless you cancel it before it can be fully utilized. However, if you meet the conditions correctly, you can activate [Sinful Stalker] at the same moment you leave the ground, transforming it into a [Shadow Skill]. Since I cannot be in two places at once while [Baleful Hunt] is in activation, the skill creates a shadow body that uses that skill in my stead, allowing for two attacks to form while removing the hindrance of each one.
In this world, they have no need for any of it. Elf Woman and Orc Man overwhelm foes far fiercer than these in front of me, with no need of skills, but this is who I am. What I rely on to survive. If I couldn’t use magic spells, so be it. I had no physical attributes blessed from birth. I accept that.
But that just means I’ll have to carve my path using the very system I was born in. That’s how I’ll live. That’s how I’ll fight!
Two remaining.
A [Venom Assault] brown widow whose hasty dashing shook echoes throughout the cavern while the unknown skill widow upside down cautiously approaches from above unbothered by the death of their associate and thinking only about how I would taste once they bit their fangs into me.
This was no game. Either I defeat them and live or fall to them and die. Life or death.
Now that they have deemed me a threat, I’m worried about the brown widow with the unknown skill. Brown widows usually have one of five skills: [Venom Assault] [Crescent Dash] [Baleful Hunt] [Sinful Stalker] or [Dripping Venom]. In fact, it was brown widows I learned how to use [Baleful Hunt] and [Sinful Stalker] though I could never fully utilize [Crescent Dash].
[Sinful Stalker] and [Dripping Venom].
To prevent the first skill from causing devastating effects, you cannot let the user out of your sight. When they move in, prepare a counter or cancel a skill if it’s in use so that it can’t get an [Opportunist] hit on you and leaves them open to your own attack. Without [Opportunist], they are stunned for about five seconds, allowing for an easy retaliation.
[Dripping Venom], a rare skill used by the leader of brown widows that can melt through all armor and weapons while having similar property to sticky slime. If the leader of brown widows hits you with this skill, it will hinder your movement at best, but at worst, you will find yourself pinned down and vulnerable.
To an Orc Man, the venom does not pierce their thick outer shell.
To an Elf Woman, the venom does not affect their bodies.
But that soundless blob of venom shot made me quiver, especially because there was no way to distinguish the leader of the brown widows from an average one. That one up there could very well be one, and I must be wary of it. Defeating them was all the same, but that skill alone was far more dangerous than it was rare to find. If I were to brush off its low encounter rate and head in recklessly, then I would die.
The brown widow on the ground activates [Venom Assault] as it approaches, and I activate [Baleful Hunt] marking the ceiling widow because I had to take it out first as it’s the priority threat.
Once again, I cancel [Baleful Hunt] the moment my boots leave the terrain into [Sinful Stalker] and transport myself in front of an upside brown widow. If it uses [Sinful Stalker] then I’ll use [Opportunist], if it uses [Dripping Venom] then I’ll use that skill.
Now my enemy, which is it? [Sinful Stalker] or [Dripping Venom]. My [Opportunist] or that skill.
As I see the blob of purple ooze form at the center of its fangs and ready my counter.
I see. Then I’ll return in kind and use [P — [Crescent Dash]. While my body is being dragged into a half circle of movement behind the window, I observe my instincts were correct. In the next second, two fireballs incinerate the brown widows, shattering them into fragments. Red for the rare leader and purple for the regular brown, respectively.
As I fell to the ground, I could only think, “Ah, they showed up,” as I slam chest first into the cavern floor. To think that today of all days would be the day I have to interact with Elf Women and had not ‘Sin Flare’ spell revealed them, then the fact they brazenly stole my kills as well burned any doubts of their identity.
“Such is my luck.” I mutter.
I decide to stay on the ground, knowing that if I stood up without allowing them to acknowledge me first, they’d attack me.
Pretending to be grateful was another necessary part of the act, or they’d attack.
If I seemed ungrateful for their unneeded intervention, then surely, they’d attack.
If we were to come to blows, I am sure that I can evade while taking down one or two at the very least. The issues lie solely with the aftermath of such an act. If word spread of my disrespect or attack on an Elf Woman, then I’d face the wrath of both sides and I’d much prefer my resign peace over that.
So docile is what my mask must remain until the opportunity to escape arises.
Two pairs of heels approach, followed by a pair of boots. Daring not to look, I could only suspect those boots to be one of an Orc Man or a certain famous individual, the child of the Outsider. But considering the relationship between the two races, that could only mean it had to be that child.
“To think an explorer would land themselves deep inside the sixtieth floors cavern.” A woman far taller than I extends her hand. Harden by combat, however, smelled of a sweet scent of flowers. I accidentally raise my head to look up at her I am blessed with eyes of radiant orange Divine Flame Rise on her left eye and a noble cross of white akin to Sacred spirits reflecting on a still serine lake at night and even those unmatched by gold locks woven into a ponytail delicately as if made of rich fibers and yet those paled the aura she exuded.
Midday.
It was like the Divine Flames Center were at their peak height, shining down directly on top of me so gleaming that I had to hide under my cloak for fear of being blinded.
“I wonder. How powerful are you, fellow explorer?” Even her voice set my core ablaze like hymns, strumming a gentle whisper upon my ears. I had seen an Elf Woman’s beauty plentiful, yet this feeling was different. Dare I say, it far exceeds all their looks with absolute authenticity.
“Hilda. Do not waste anymore with that Halfy.” says an Elf Woman with blue hair.
“Halfy?”
“Yes.” says the other with green hair. “That cannot use magic has no use to our side. A detriment he will be, so do not think of inviting him into our party. In fact, you dare stain our path without properly, has the Orc Men really trained you that poorly?”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“S-sorry.” I apologize.
“Ugh! Do not speak another word and leave our sight immediately!” The blue one yells, and I comply with a nod and step back.
Understandable, as it was harsh. What I am and what I represent exist as a reminder of their failure. I am or neither.
“Hm.” Hilda chimes in. “Suppose what you state to be true, I cannot wield the spells of the Elf Women nor my second, third sister or many of the humble residents of my home; are you perhaps insinuating that I, and by extension my family, are detriments as well?” She reaches for a sapphire gem on her belt with a quick flash and transforms it into a sapphire crystal lance. Lance being a loose comparison since its length was quite a way shorter and more equivalent to a rapier rather than a lance.
It just felt sharp to the touch despite its appearance.
“And what will you do if I am? If you harm me, do you plan on defending against both factions?” The blue-haired one warns Hilda.
“Is that so?” Hilda takes a step forward, making the other two flinch. “My father and mother instructed clearly to defend our family’s honor no matter who may dare to besmirch. And because I cannot, no, I will not let you insult them, I, or this, erm, stranger, go unabated. If this means war,” she points the lance between them, “then so be it.” Hilda scoots me behind her and whispers. “Apologies. I had not planned to drag you into this.”
I nod.
A neutral response that I can spin a tale for later while I avoid her line of sight. Those eyes of hers were too blinding. Looking directly into them was like staring at the Divine Flames Fully Centered in the sky and consuming all in its gaze; so much so that I failed to notice that the two Elf Women had already left in frustration. However, her rays couldn’t stop their insults reverberate clearly against the walls. At least that’s what I assumed.
Orc Woman. Battle Golem. Giant Spinster.
One after another followed by insults directed at me. What confused me was they too were unmarried and far older than Hilda, so those critiques, while true, were just as invalid to them as they share the same circumstances. Looking at it logically, nothing they said had merit and a prideful, confident person like her should be able to brush them away with ease.
When Hilda turns around, her sullen eyes look more like the Divine Flames setting below the horizon. Her smile plastered on rather than natural and her demeanor lacking that radiance it had before.
Had those words struck that deep? But what bothers me the most was why did I care?
Perhaps I wanted to see the Divine Flames once again.
Maybe I wanted to help her feel better?
I think it was simply my determination to not have another fall to my level, even if it meant being the steppingstone for them. If I compliment her, then more than anything she’d call me a creep, but considering my reputation, I had many labels already, so what’s the harm in another?
“Ar-are you, um, okay?”
“I am fine.”
She does not look fine. Those comments definitely bothered her to a certain extent.
“Y-you sure?”
“What they say is true. I am in fact my tallness exceeds more than most comparable to the tallest of Orc Men. Fun fact only three Orc men are taller than I and I, ugh, apologies. Why did I tell you that? I mean. Just. Being taller and doubling most Elf Women can be quite noticeable, especially while traversing through a crowd while tall and…”
Six. The firstborn of the outsider,
“…not to mention that being tall provides certain combat, so although I may lack certain short feminine qualities, but for combat a taller person like I…”
Sixteen. The battle-hardened Valkyrie of legend.
“…useful tallness from a line of warriors, my father…”
Twenty-seven. Prodigy above prodigies.
“…therefore, the gate guardians may perceive my above average or “tall” as short.”
Thirty-three. Inside a deadly cavern where monsters can spawn at any time and yet here, she is defending, admonishing or lecturing me on why her height should be justified. From Orc Men to Elf Women, I heard tales of mystical nature of the Outsider, his partner and their children. Many of which span from legendary to absurd and yet.
“Such examples of tall benefits include but are not limited to…”
And yet. And yet. Forty-eight.
In such an environment, how can such a person be so flustered by such a minor issue? If a warrior is what she wishes to be, then increased reach would be most definitely necessary, or does she wish for the aesthetic feminine qualities of the diminutive Elf Women? The thought alone of her indecisiveness has my hand of mouth hiding my giggling from her silliness.
How long has it been since I last laughed? Far too long to remember.
“So, what do you think?” The prodigal Hilda asks me.
Considering that it has been sixty-seven talls since she began ranting, I should respond with haste to not insult her pride any further.
“Your height is stunning.” I respond.
An adept but I believe to be neutral response. It leaves room for her to draw her own conclusions while simultaneously praising an attribute that she deems worthy of concern. By tomorrow Hilda will have long forgotten this conversation, but at the very least this will help bring radiance back to her eyes.
“I see. Thank you.” Hilda twirls her hair avoiding my gaze, which while odd but nothing important. Assuming that her mood has brightened, I believe she should use this opportunity to accomplish her goal.
“The Gate Guardian is just ahead. My advice is to have it dealt with swiftly before reinforcements arrive.”
If I recall correctly, it was a Brown Mother Widow, a powerful enemy with the appearance of an Elf Woman made entirely of webbing. Faux outer layer to fool men and hard exterior that would shatter most weapons if one clashed with it. The most difficult aspect of that specific Gate Guardian was the fact it will spawn its children if not defeated promptly and end up overwhelming you with sheer numbers. However, if you struck its rather weak core, then it will fall like the rest, at least from my experience. Someone of Hilda’s quality should be more than enough to handle it on her own with Lapis Lazuli for support or if the worst comes exit the cavern with a Blue Chalcedony.
“I assume you wish to defeat them on your own, so I will take my leave now.”
As I turn to leave, she calls for me.
“Wait!” I turn to her. “May I have the pleasure of knowing your name, fellow explorer?”
To be expected. That kind nature of hers can even fool someone like me to believe their name is worth calling. However, if she were to continue ally herself alongside me, then surely a demise would be the result. As desirable and capable as Hilda may be, it is precisely for that reason this interaction needs to end here. I am a slow death and I’d never wish to drag others with me, even those I no longer call father or mother.
“Nobody. My name is Nobody.”
“A strange name Nobody.”
“It is. Well then, farewell and may your harvest be plentiful.”
“Well met Nobody.” And with a bow and smile Hilda disappears further into the caves.
Naïve, she is. But that naivete is worth protecting, even if it meant further solitude. If I were to latch on to her, then I fear I may never let go. Like a parasitic insect. Another apt label among the plentiful.
As she sheathed her lance back in her pocket, I couldn’t help but notice that my eyes involuntarily focused on her hips, and it wasn’t because of any other reasons. Then, I noticed something odd. Her crystal shards pouch seems to glow oddly. Perhaps they are of higher quality than mine. Considering her lineage, that wouldn’t be too far off from the truth. However, most times they only aluminate during use.
At least I hope that’s what they were.
As I made my way towards the exit, I could sense the two patiently waiting ahead. Thankfully, the cavern we were in absorbed noise instead of echoing it, so moving beside them wouldn’t be a problem as long as I remained unseen. By this time, I had left Hilda for roughly half an hour, but nearly an hour since we last met these two.
Normally the trek towards the exit would only take a use of a crystal, so why did I decide to walk back instead? Perhaps I wished to see her celebrate a well-earned victory or, despite my so-called restraint, I wanted to bask in her light one last time.
Has my solitary self finally craved for another?
Or am I becoming more and more desperate?
Even I cannot decipher my illogical motives.
If I squeeze by them unnoticed, then I can go home without dealing with them. The trouble was that they stood next to one another in the narrow passageway, blocking any exit without bumping into their not worth mentioning bosoms. However, crawling carefully should allow just enough space for me to fit through between their legs so I did, though worst-case scenario they spot me and light me on fire or death by drowning.
Fearing the worst, I take out an amethyst stone and activate it. In the next moment, nothing happens, but if it worked, then the two Elf Women won’t notice me. The light from Amethyst draws their attention for a moment, but they deem it as nothing and return to their conversation. Even the discussions between the two Elf Women had been inaudible until I nestled firmly between their long twig like legs waiting for them to move.
I fully understand how this situation would look if they caught on, but that’s why the Amethyst crystal was necessary. It removed my presence and prana flow from detection, allowing for simple escapes like this, though at the expense of a scarcely available resource. Easy being relative as I stare at two menacing creatures far more dangerous than any Brown Widow.
“Do you think she used them yet?” The blue hair asks, tearing a malicious smile like it was an accessory.
“Surely, if we’re in father’s favor, then we may take that Halfy as a bonus.” The green said, chest puffed out as if proud of whatever they’ve done.
As curious as I am, I doubt leaving Hilda to fend off a Gate Guardian alone would hardly be worth the praise. Besides, she should be able to handle with ease considering the difference in capabilities. Hilda may take damage, but as long as she had that lance and crystals, there was no cause for concern.
And yet. This ominous feeling. Instincts riling my core yet the cause unknown.
Wrong.
I wish I hadn’t known it.
Because if I hadn’t, then…
I jolt up onto my legs, knocking the two Elven Women to the ground screaming, and made a mad dash towards the Gate Guardians room.
…perhaps I would not have acted this way.
Reaching the bottom of the spiral staircase and above, I saw the color I feared for the most. Never in all my years as an explorer have had the dreaded color red painting the cavern walls above. If the area shines other than red, then all is well but because it was ruby meant that Hilda had failed to subdue the Gate Guardian in time and a swarm was forming. And if my hunch was correct, that life of hers was in danger, but at the very least the light was still there, meaning she was alive for now.
I couldn’t run up the steps. The run alone would take at least five minutes at my maximum speed, and I didn’t have enough time for that. The staircase was near enough to the wall for me to rush up, but I had to be perfect, could I…
“Ryaaa!!!” Hilda shouts from above.
I need to.
I take my knife out and throw it four stories with [Agile Blade], allowing it to stick to the stair then take out another knife and with [Baleful Hunt], I mark the first knife and jump upwards with [Sinful Stalker]. Before I slam into the first knife, I cancel it into [Agile Blade] while leaping off my shadow self once more to throw the second knife four stories against the wall then grab the first knife [Titan’s Grip], a farming which allows me to pull out any object from any surface and repeated the process to the second knife.
Repeatedly ascending, I finally reached the fifth floor where the Gate Guardian’s lair stood in under ten seconds. Upon landing on the ground and peering through the gigantic open door, I witnessed thousands of Brown Widows descending towards the center. Despite the dread in my heart, the sight captivated my eyes.
Something out of a storybook.
A knight standing against the impossible facing down an overwhelming monster, weapon shattered but heart unyielding against such a foe. Hair unkempt with dress torn asunder yet, standing proudly unfazed and more beautiful than when we first met.
One who protects others and one who needed protection at that moment.
The Brown Mother Widow raises her Elf Woman like hands and transforms them into long sickle and immediately, I toss my first jadeite knife next to Hilda with [Agile Blade] then now that I’m one handed; I activate [Baleful Hunt] to mark the Brown Mother Widow.
Please make it.
In less than thirty seconds Hilda would swarm by Brown Widows coming from the ceiling, then even I wouldn’t be able to help her. We had to kill that Brown Mother Widow before we get surrounded, but if I combo all my skills together, there was no way for me to do enough damage to kill it, and Hilda’s weapon was unusable now. All I could do was to have faith in Hilda’s skills as a warrior. It might ask too much in that condition, but if we wanted to live, she had — needed to fight.
Once again, as my boots left the wall, I activate [Sinful Stalker] transporting me in front of Hilda and right as the Brown Mother Widow was about to impale her. It’s claw inches from my forehead from my face and at that moment [Opportunist] did not activate.
Even if it did, it would not have made it in time and this attack of the Brown Mother Widow was neither a skill nor an ability, just a regular swipe like any other, so that’s why it didn’t appear.
But I had one option left.
The last option was out of my six total skills. But now more than ever was when being the pinnacle of what I trained myself to be was a must. This skill was too tricky to hedge on a bet. I could neither pray nor hope. I just had to be absolute.
Concentrate.
All other senses null and my line of sight narrows onto the boss and only her. Her claws drawing nearer but slowing down to a snail’s pace in my time.
Not yet. Concentrate concentrate concentrate! You can’t use it yet.
Bit by bit, the death sickle moves closer until finally it contacts my skin on my forehead and the second it does.
Now!
[Unique Skill: Perfect Parry Activated]
The Mother Brown Widow flies back several wand lengths back to the astonishment of her and Hilda.
[Conditions met: Cooldown Refreshed]
Good. Now we have a chance.
I activate [Titan’s Grip], catching my first knife that I threw earlier and toss it to her.
“You attack. I defend.”
“Nob—!”
“DO IT HILDA!” I yell before sprinting towards the Brown Mother Widow, and Hilda follows behind me.
She can hate me for all it’s worth later.
Right now, all that matters is that we have to survive. No matter how much she comes to despise me, I will ensure both of our safety, because this is not our end.
I swear it.
Fifteen seconds to ensure that promise. I can’t have her defending because she needed to output all the damage possible in the time remaining. My responsibility is to protect, but a single misjudged attack would cause the immediate destruction of my body.
The shadow of [Baleful Hunt] follows soon after slamming the Brown Mother Widow downwards, not enough to damage it at all but stunning enough to allow Hilda to get in twelve quick heavy slashes and three of which slice five of its eight limbs clean off.
As impressed as I was by her movement and knife skills, I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted now.
When it was no longer dazed it retaliated with a piercing stab towards Hilda but before she can step back, I mark with [Baleful Hunter] dash with [Sinful Stalker] and using [Ultimate Skill: Perfect Parry] once again knocking the Brown Mother Widow backwards.
[Conditions met: Cooldown Refreshed]
“ATTACK!”
No longer hesitant, Hilda nods, then follows my instructions and slashes forward unrestrained by the need to evade. I, a shield ready to defend and she, my blade cutting down whatever stood in front of me. In that moment, we were neither two warriors, but a broken blade and fragile shield with those purposes alone.
Defend.
Attack.
Defend.
Attack.
DEFEND!
ATTACK!
The Brown Mother Widow’s red flashing skin signifies that it is almost finished. I prepare the last defense against it, but it feints. It pulls its only remaining claw back at the last second from Hilda and aims for a stab on my torso.
But it made a single mistake.
The moment I had been alone, I have always put my life on the line. Whether it be this monster or worse of all an Elven Women or Orc Men, I understood long ago I had to be ready for everything and all things no matter the foe and to think a simple feint could trick me…
[Unique Skill: Perfect Parry]
…was a fool’s gambit.
[Conditions met: Cooldown Refreshed]
“END IT!”
“RYAAAAAAAAAAA!”
And with one final brilliant, dashing strike pierces through the Gate Guardian, shattering it into golden pieces, dropping its remaining arm as a reward. Once that happens, all the surrounding Brown Widows shatter, leaving the room in a pale blue light and not soon after that Hilda collapses unconscious. I go over to heal her with my own crystals, returning her clothes and hair to their previous state before this battle.
As I place her on my back, I eye the bag on her waist below me, which had a single glowing crystal remaining, a Fairy Stone for protection, but as I expected, someone had tampered with it. A lethal prank that only those cruel creatures could have conjured up where they overflow them with prana leading them to explode. For it wouldn’t harm you physically, however losing one’s source of protection, healing or even escape amid battle was going too far no matter how you disliked them, and I assume they knew of Hilda’s nature not to retreat as well.
However, what infuriated me the most was not them, or even the Gate Guardian, either.
My frustration focused solely on myself.
I had known or at least suspected something and, because of my nature, left Hilda alone. If I had been even a second short or hesitant for even a moment, then Hilda would have certainly… just like them.
It’s my fault.
If only I had followed her and checked if she was okay.
In order to ensure her safety, I could’ve traded my own crystals.
Despite my own struggles to live independently, was I truly willing to let someone die out of fear?
Everything. All of it. It’s all my fault.
I take out a moonstone teleport crystal and transport in front of a small home next to a forest. I had been here once before and there isn’t a person who does not know the home of the Outsider and his beloveds. As I knock on the door in front, Hilda’s mother appears. A red-haired young and exceptionally beautifully looking Elf Woman with bangs over her left eye. Before she could get in a word, I gently rest Hilda beside the doorway and ran away.
Unworthy of praise or any inkling of thanks, I was a coward who failed to protect a single person because of my fears so I must go as far as possible before any of those false inclinations of a hero could reach my ears and accept the one label stained onto my core.
“Pathetic.”