ROAD AHEAD

THE TRIP through the dimensional rift evoked a very peculiar sensation. My surroundings whizzed by in an indistinct blur of colors while the space below slipped from underneath me. I stared blankly off into the distance with no more tears left to cry.

I landed with a jolt on hard ground, though my fall was cushioned by a pile of leaves and vines. It didn’t matter, though. Even if I had landed on jagged rocks, I probably wouldn’t have noticed.

I remained in the same seated position I had maintained during the trip, not even bothering to look around me and take in my surroundings.

She was gone.

I would never have the chance to see her again.

Those two thoughts triggered another wave of emotion, and I heaved with sobs.

I recalled the months we had spent together—how caring she was, how she had treated me like her own blood. I didn’t care that she had delayed sending me home in order to keep me with her. In the short time I had been with Sylvia, she’d taught me so much and given me insights I had lacked in this world.

The anguish was overwhelming, and I succumbed to the urge to sleep—my mind’s way of coping with it, I supposed. I curled up into a ball where I had landed, but then a searing pain jolted me back up. The burning sensation spread from my mana core throughout my body, and then a voice echoed in my head.

‘Ahem. Testing, testing… Ah, good! Hello, Art. This is Sylvia.’ My heart fluttered in instant response to the voice. “Sylvia! I’m here! Can you hear—” ‘If you’re listening to this right now, it means I have shown you what I actually am.’ It was some kind of recording. She must have implanted it in me when she gouged that small hole into my mana core.

‘You’re nowhere near ready right now to know the whole truth. Knowing you, if you knew who my enemy was, you would have brashly tried to fight him. Little Art, you are barely four years old. Yet, looking at your mana core and seeing that it is already dark red in color, I have realized that you have a rare talent. I will leave you with this: I have imbued your mana core with my unique will. This is something incomparable to the will of any normal beast.

Your future progress as a mage depends on how well you will be able to use it…’ Was that why the purple in her eyes and her golden patterns had disappeared?

‘When your mana core passes the white stage, you will hear from me again.

At that time, I will explain everything. What you do from there will be your choice.’ There was a stage past white?

‘Lastly, Art… I know you may be grieving, but remember: You have your family to look out for, and the stone I entrusted you with. My wish is for you to embrace the joys and innocence of childhood, train hard, and make your parents and me proud. Do not go chasing after shadows in a fit of rage.

Killing the ones responsible for my death will neither bring me back to life nor ease your pain. There is a reason for everything and I do not regret what has happened. With this, I bid you farewell for now. Remember, protect your family and the stone, study what I have left you, and enjoy this life, King Grey.’

That name and title were from my previous world.

She had known the entire time…

Did she discover something in my mana core? Was she able to look into my memories?

I had so many questions, but the only one who could answer them was gone.

I refused to move for a long time, staying in my cozy fetal position, deep in thought.

Sylvia was right. She had known what my life back in my old world was like.

I could not let myself make the same mistake—living solely for the sake of pursuing strength. I wanted to be strong, but I also wanted to live my life without regret. I wanted to live a life that Sylvia would be proud of.

Even if I reached whatever stage was after white, I did not think it would please her to know I had lived a life of only training. No, I needed to hurry and reach my family.

But before I could do that, I needed to know—where the hell was I?

Looking around, trees surrounded me, towering high over my head. A dense fog loomed thickly a few inches off the ground, filling the air with nearly palpable moisture.

Trees and an unnaturally thick fog…

I sank back on my butt, crestfallen. This could only mean one thing.

I was in the Forest of Elshire.

A disheartened sigh escaped from my mouth as I picked myself up.

It seemed I wouldn’t be reuniting with my family any time soon. It had been over four months since I had gone over the cliff. My family had probably gone back to Ashber—or perhaps they had decided to stay in Xyrus.

I didn’t have any sort of provisions other than the clothes on my back, and the strange stone wrapped in Sylvia’s feather. This cursed fog limited my vision to a few yards in any direction. Reinforcing my eyes with mana helped quite a bit, but it didn’t solve the even bigger problem, which was how to get out of this place.

I reinforced my body and enabled mana rotation, which had become second nature to me by now. Right now, I could only absorb roughly twenty percent of what I could while just meditating, but I couldn’t complain.

The only downside to mana rotation was that it wasn't a replacement for strengthening the mana core. In order to purify my mana core and get to the next stage, I would need to focus solely on gathering mana, from both my body and the surrounding atmosphere, and use that to get rid of the impurities little by little.

After getting my mana core to the dark red level, I did notice that the amount of mana I could store increased significantly. Although the core does not grow in size, I assumed a higher purity allowed more mana to be stored.

I climbed up the nearest tree, and once I got high enough, I focused mana into only my eyes, enhancing my vision even further.

I wasn’t looking for a way out, but rather for any signs of people.

Sylvia had said that I would be teleported close to humans, so I was hoping there might be adventurers traveling nearby who could direct me out, or even escort me.

After about ten minutes of searching, jumping from tree to tree, I found what I was looking for.

I hopped a few more trees, feeling quite proud of my primate nimbleness, and stopped at a branch closer to what I’d found. A group of humans were gathered near a carriage. I’d wanted to jump down and greet them in hopes that they’d take me back to my home, but some inexplicable urge told me not to.

Studying their expressions and the way they moved told me something was off.

I hid myself completely behind the trunk and listened intently.

“No! Help! Someone please help! Mommy! Daddy! Nooo!” “Someone shut her up. She’s going to attract attention.” There was the sound of a thud, then another voice spoke.

“Put her in the back of the carriage, and make it quick. Still a few days until we get to the safety of the mountain range. We can’t slow down now. We have to keep moving.”

“Hey, boss, how much y’reckon she’ll sell for? Elf girls go for a lot, don’t they? And as young as she is, she’s probably a ****** at that. I bet she’ll fetch a lot, huh?”

Slave traders.

I carefully took a peek, spotting the small carriage, just big enough to carry five or six adults if they were crammed in tightly. Just then, a middle-aged man came into view, hauling a little girl to the back of the carriage. She looked to be around six or seven, with the silvery hue in her hair and the pointed ears that elves were famous for.

What do I do?

How were they even able to kidnap an elf in the first place? The Elshire Forest’s magical fog was supposed to disorient the senses of even the most capable mage.

After a few more seconds of observing, I found my answer.

Attached to leashes were mana beasts, creatures that looked like a mix between a deer and a dog. They had large, branching antlers, looking like a complicated antenna.

These creatures had been mentioned in the encyclopedia I had always carried with me. The forest hounds were native to the Forest of Elshire, and could navigate even better than the elves themselves. How these brutes had acquired forest hounds, I had no idea, but I needed to think of a plan.

Option one: Steal one of the forest hounds and have it lead me out of the forest.

Option two: Kidnap the kidnapped elf girl and have her lead me out of the forest.

Option three: Kill all the slave traders and set the elf girl free, then take the forest hounds and have them lead me out of the forest.

I pondered for a couple of minutes, struggling with a dilemma. The first option would be easiest, but it didn’t sit right with me to just leave the elf girl.

But who knows, I thought, rationalizing. Maybe she’ll get bought by a kind old man who will free her and take her back to her home.

Fat chance.

The second option had an obvious flaw; once I saved the elf, she might refuse to lead me out of the forest and insist on going back home. The slave traders probably wouldn’t take it too kindly, either.

Option three had the best outcome, but was by far the most difficult and dangerous, considering that there were four of them and only one of me.

Because of the fog, I couldn’t sense if any of them were mages, but it was safe to assume that at least one of them would be. The fact that they had captured an elf in the forest meant they were either extremely lucky, or they were professionals.

I let out another deep breath. I seemed to be sighing a lot these days.

Option three it is.

Deciding to trail them and actually following through with it were two different matters. The forest hounds were already warily sniffing in my direction, sensing that someone was near.

I had to follow them at quite a distance, constantly using mana to keep up with their carriage from far enough back that I could still track them, but they wouldn’t notice me. But through constant mana usage, with the help of mana rotation, I managed to keep them in my sights.

Less than an hour before nightfall, they had stopped and set up camp,

allowing me to quietly observe them until I had learned enough about them to confidently make a move.

I waited until it was completely dark, then moved carefully to a branch directly above the carriage and prepared to put my plan into action.

First I stirred up the forest hounds with a carefully thrown rock.

Despite their bumbling appearance, the slave traders were surprisingly vigilant; they never built a fire and kept two people on guard at all times.

When the forest hounds began squealing, one of the two guards—a lanky man, armed only with a long knife—went around to the other side of the carriage to quiet them.

The guard who stayed behind was sitting on a fallen log, fiddling with something in his hands while the other two traders were sleeping inside the tent.

My first target would be the one who had gone to quiet the forest hounds. His lean muscles were visible, but he didn’t seem too strong. I dropped down with a quiet thud behind him.

Startled by the soft sound, Lanky turned around, probably expecting a curious weasel or rat. His face twisted into a mixture of surprise and amusement when he saw me, a four-year-old child in ragged clothes.

But before he even had the chance to speak, I lunged upward toward his neck. I infused mana into the blade of my hand, turning it into a sharp edge.

This was called ‘the swordless art’ in my old world, but here it would be more accurate to call it a wind attribute technique.

He flinched back reflexively, his hands coming up toward his face to guard against my blow.

It was too late.

I took a quick swipe at his jugular, taking his larynx out along with his carotid artery. A stream of blood sprayed out of his neck as I landed behind him, supporting his lifeless body and gently placing him down to avoid making noise.

As I had expected, the forest hounds Lanky had just calmed down were sent back into a frenzy at the stench of blood, and they resumed their howling and barking.

“Oy, Pinky! Can’t even calm the hounds? What the…” I had already retrieved Pinky’s knife and was waiting for the second man at the back corner of the carriage.

While the second slave trader’s attention was on Pinky’s corpse—currently being eaten by the forest hounds—I jumped out from behind him and stabbed him in the neck.

After some snarling, the hounds quieted down to devour the two corpses. I headed toward the tent to dispatch the remaining two in their sleep, but a shrill cry ruined my plans.

“Help! Mommy! Someone! Anyone! Please!” Son of a… why now, of all times?

As if on cue, I heard the rustle of the tent as the two remaining slave traders came out.

“Pinky! Deuce!” one of them barked, still half asleep. “The kid is awake! What the hell are you—” I swallowed down the inappropriate urge to laugh at the slave traders’ ridiculous names, and hid myself behind a tree next to the carriage.

While I waited, I infused mana into Pinky’s knife.

Sensing something was amiss, the two slavers carefully stepped around to the other side of the carriage. Their eyes bulged as they witnessed their two former companions being eaten by the forest hounds.

I was about to seize the opportunity to attack the nearest one when his gaze whipped back to me, and he instantly swung his short sword at my face.

Dodging the slash, I dropped low and dashed toward him, trying to get in range with my knife. I swung, reinforcing even more mana into the knife, and landed a clean blow, slicing the Achilles heel of his right leg.

He let out a pained howl and dove desperately out of my range before I could do any further damage, crying, “Danton, be careful! I think this brat is a mage.” I turned my attention to Danton, who pulled his sword from its sheath and lowered into a defensive stance.

“You see all sorts of crazy things these days, George. Looks like a huge sack of gold just showed itself in front of us! I bet he’ll get us almost as much as the elf,” he said, with a crazed chuckle.

These bastards didn’t even care that I had just killed their party members.

Danton’s body glowed faintly as he reinforced himself with mana.

He advanced toward me, his lips curling into a confident grin on his square face. With that crippled leg, George was out of the fight, but this augmenter was going to be trouble.

The augmenter, Danton, suddenly sprung at me, his right arm poised to throw a punch. I could only assume he chose not to use his sword so as not to damage his “goods.” While I’d normally have been offended, in this case his overconfidence made it much easier for me.

I jumped back in time to avoid the blow, which was strong enough to leave a small dent in the ground. I threw my knife at him, using the same trick as I had with the conjurer I’d dragged over the cliff, but this mage was more careful. He disrupted the mana string with his sword and grabbed my knife with his free hand.

Shit.

I was in a bad position. Danton wasn’t tall, but his reach was still a good bit longer than mine. He also had a sword, which he now deemed it necessary to use, and that further increased his range.

Wasting no time, Danton dashed toward me, throwing the knife that I had just launched at him. I easily dodged, but not in time to react to his next move as he swiped at my leg with his sheath. As I stumbled, trying to regain my balance, he grabbed hold of my ankle and flipped me upside down.

His confident face crumpled as I concentrated mana and punched the hand that gripped me. I used a fire attribute technique, releasing all the mana focused on my fist, and aimed for the weak joints of his wrist.

A loud crack, followed by howled profanities, proved that the attack was sufficient.

He could no longer grip my ankle with his broken wrist, so I fell, landing awkwardly on my back.

Quickly jumping up to my feet, I picked up Pinky’s knife and charged toward the wounded Danton. Still preoccupied by the pain in his wrist, he cursed, “You’re dead now, you piece of shit! I don’t care if I can’t sell you anymore!”

His left wrist was useless, leaving a gap in his defense. I willed more mana into my feet and came within range. I was about to land a solid hit to his side when I saw him furiously swinging his sword down.

He fell for it!

I quickly pivoted with my left foot in place, spinning to my right. Dodging the swing by a hair’s breadth, I brought my knife within range of his right side, which was now open because of his last desperate swing.

He immediately tried to jump back, but I placed my right foot behind his leg,

throwing him off balance. With one quick ****** I jabbed my knife up under his armpit, through the gap between his ribs, and into his chest.

I finished him off easily while his lung collapsed from the wound.

I was now left with the immobile George. The poor fighter couldn’t really defend himself or run away with his useless leg.

I couldn’t use Danton’s sword—it was too large and heavy for me—so I made use of Pinky’s knife one last time and swiped George’s jugular. He died with a look of disbelief, and I fed him to the hounds.

Judging by the eerie quiet, the elf girl seemed to know there was fighting going on. I climbed up onto the back of the carriage where she was locked and spotted her shivering in the corner, her once lavish clothing caked with dirt and grime.

She studied me with an expression of surprise and doubt, her eyes seeming to say, ‘He can’t have been the one who saved me, can he?’ She remained silent as I untied her, her swollen turquoise eyes never leaving my face.

Tired and feeling gross, I helped her up and said simply, “You should go back home now.” She probably hadn’t known until now whether I was an enemy or friend, but when I said the word ‘home,’ a look of relief washed over her tense face and she broke down, hiccupping and sobbing.

“I was so scared! They were going to sell me. I thought I was never going to see my family again!”

I sat quietly next to her, offering silent comfort as she wept.

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