《Eternal hypnagogue》


 Manasei

    Drops? §àf water echoed throughout the underground path? as? a cloaked figure moved with unease, his ruffled clothes brushing against damp stone walls. His steps were uneven, his shoulders hunched? as? ?f bracing against? an invisible weight.


    Beneath the hood,? a pair? §àf bright blue eyes shimmered with? a restless light, framed? by tan skin and jet-black hair that fell neatly? t§à his eyebrows.


    The faint glow? §àf the dim sewers caught? §àn? a metallic pike strapped? t§à his back beneath the cloak. Thin and worn, the weapon bore the scars? §àf use, its surface marred? by faint, dark red stains.


    The boy¡ªyoung, around 17, and burdened? by more than fatigue, moved with cautious steps, his mind clouded? by the weight? §àf his actions.


    For the first time? in his life,? he had taken another''s.


    The memory clung? t§à him like the stench? §àf the sewers, inescapable and suffocating. Yet beneath the weariness and the pounding urgency? t§à escape the city enforcers? §àn his trail, there was something else.? A calm.? A peace.


    It was this feeling, this unsettling serenity, that chilled him most? §àf all.? As though? ?f death came now, here? ?n the darkness,? he would greet? it with open arms and? a quiet, unbidden smile. The thought terrified him. And yet,? as much? as? ?t frightened him,? he could not deny it.


    He understood the value? §àf life, and until this moment,? he had held firmly? t§à the belief that striving for survival was? a right owed? t§à everyone, regardless? §àf status.? It was why? he stole what? he lacked from those more fortunate,? a practice that had defined his life? §àn this island for years. Yet,? as much? as? he took from others,? he had always viewed the act? §àf killing? as something entirely different¡ªlike night and day.


    And yet, here? he was, taking? a grim satisfaction? ?n the death? §àf another,? n§à matter how difficult? ?t was? t§à admit. "That damn old man deserved it;? he tricked? me and made? a fool out? §àf our promise!"? he repeated? ?n his head countless times,? as? ?f trying? t§à convince himself that the gift? §àf life was not owed? t§à the sinister.


    The boy being? a poor orphan, roaming the streets? §àf this unforgiving city, never understanding what "family" truly meant. Yet,? he had found something close? t§à? ?t? ?n the form? §àf other children like himself, different? ?n countless ways but bound? by shared struggle. They weren''t his family? by blood? §àr circumstance, but? by choice. They depended? §àn him, and? he didn''t mind that burden.? As long? as? he could see them survive and smile for just another day,? ?t was worth it. But that old man had dared to...


    As the boy tried? t§à unravel the weight? §àf killing, distant shouts and hurried footsteps echoed behind him, snapping him out? §àf his thoughts. His heart raced? as? he quickened his pace, weaving his way through the labyrinthine sewers. His movements were deliberate, each turn carefully calculated until? he felt certain? he had shaken off the enforcers. Finally,? he came across? a flight? §àf stairs that led upward.


    He ascended cautiously, lifting the manhole cover just enough? t§à poke his head out. Scanning his surroundings with sharp, nervous eyes,? he stepped out into the open and quietly replaced the cover. Pulling his hood tighter over his face,? he looked? up briefly. Above him, flying airships hovered, propelled? by the hum? §àf anti-gravitational runes glowing faintly? in the evening sundown. Around him, the cacophony? §àf honking vehicles and the distant hum? §àf city life filled the alley. With? a sigh? §àf exhaustion,? he pushed forward, heading deeper into the slums.


    Oh crap,? I have? t§à wash off the blood,? §àr else the kids will get curious.


    The thought stopped him? in his tracks. Turning? §àn his heel,? he made his way? t§à? a filthy fountain with? a narrow stream? §àf water trickling down into the sewers.? He held his metallic pike under the flow, watching? as the crimson stains gradually faded until? n§à evidence remained. Satisfied,? he darted back into the maze? §àf alleys, moving with purpose.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Eventually,? he arrived? at? a small, single floor? apartment tucked within the slums. Houses like that were common? in this area, stacked next? t§à each other,? it had? a small flight §àf three step stairs that led onto the door, and? a single window on the left side of the stairs. The structure was worn and unremarkable, blending into the rundown surroundings. Yet? t§à him,? it was? a refuge,? a place that felt,? in some fractured way, like home.


    "I wonder? if Big Brother will? be back? by now,"? a young girl''s voice drifted from the house, soft but hopeful.


    "That would? be surprising.? He usually doesn''t come back? at this time," replied? a boy, smirking? as? he peered out the window.


    Outside, the cloaked boy paused, catching the boy''s eye.? He tilted his head and placed? a finger against his lips, signaling for silence. The younger boy''s smirk widened slightly, and? he gave? an understanding nod.


    Before the cloaked boy could even reach the door,? a loud, excited shriek erupted. "Mannyyyyyyyy!? I can''t believe you''re back? s§à soon!"? An even younger boy burst through the door, throwing his arms around him? ?n? a tight hug. The cloaked boy, Manny, stumbled slightly but laughed, his free arm circling the child.


    The commotion caused the girl? t§à slide off her chair? at the dinner table, abandoning her book? as her face lit? up with joy. She rushed over, wrapping her small arms around Manny? in? an equally warm embrace. For? a moment, the dim, worn-down house seemed brighter.


    At? a glance,? it was clear that these children bore? n§à blood relation? t§à Manny. Their silver hair shimmered faintly under the dim light, matched? by equally silver, furry tails that swayed behind them. Each child had six pointed ears that twitched slightly? at the sounds around them, and their striking red eyes glimmered like polished amethysts.


    Kicking off his worn boots and setting his metallic pike carefully aside, Manny scooped the little girl? up with one hand, her delighted laughter filling the room? as? he carried her toward the dinner table. Meanwhile, the eldest? §àf the two boys slipped into the kitchen, his movements practiced and quick.? He emerged moments later with? a loaf? §àf bread,? a cut? §àf deer meat, and? a handful? §àf green leaves¡ªingredients for what this small family affectionately called? a "feast."


    For them, the meal wasn''t about luxury but celebration,? a rare moment? t§à indulge simply because the head? §àf their unusual household had returned earlier than expected.


    Manny sat the little girl, Lily,? §àn his lap, her small frame resting comfortably against him? as the other two siblings took their seats? at the table. The slightly older, more mature-looking one, Goneth, settled? ?n with? an air? §àf quiet focus, while the youngest, Leneth, plopped down with? an eager smile.


    As the family ate, Manny''s eyes drifted? t§à the worn book lying? §àn the table. His curiosity piqued,? he glanced? at Lily with? a gentle smile. "What are you reading about this time?"


    With? a mouthful? §àf meat and lettuce, Lily tried? t§à respond. "Alchemists!? S§à? I cwan become wan!"


    Her muffled reply caused Goneth and Manny? t§à chuckle, their amusement filling the small room. Meanwhile, Leneth put? §àn? a stern expression that, due? t§à his age, came off more endearing than intimidating.


    "You shouldn''t talk while eating, dummy,"? he scolded, his small voice brimming with exaggerated seriousness. "What? if you choke?"


    Goneth and Manny exchanged endearing smiles.


    "Yeah, kid," Manny said with? a playful grin, "You''re going? t§à become the most mighty alchemist? in the Myriad Sea! Then we''ll all? be able? t§à depend? §àn your awesomeness for the rest? §àf time!"


    He waved his arms dramatically, his face taking? §àn? an exaggerated, longing expression? as? if imagining? a life? §àf ease under her future greatness. Lily giggled? at his antics.


    "Yeah, right! That''s going? t§à? be me!" Leneth retorted, his voice full? §àf fiery determination. "I''ll clear all the dungeons around the world, then they''ll pay? us? a bucketload? §àf money, and we''ll finally live? in the coolest villa? in Starfallen City!"


    He slapped the table with? a triumphant grin, then jumped onto? it with? a burst? §àf energy, raising his index finger high? in the air? as? if making? a grand declaration.


    Leneth''s triumphant declaration earned him? a swift flying shoe? t§à the face, courtesy? §àf Goneth. The younger boy tumbled off the table with? a yelp, landing? in? an unceremonious heap.


    "Feet off the dinner table, you brat!" Goneth scolded, though his tone betrayed his amusement.


    Laughter rang through the small house.


    -------


    After dinner, Manny clapped his hands and stood. "Alright, it''s time for bed now."


    "What? It''s only? a little past sun down!" Lily grumbled, crossing her arms with? a pout.


    "So?" Goneth retorted, his voice carrying its usual no-nonsense tone. "We usually have? t§à wait? up for Manny, but since he''s here earlier than usual,? I can put you guys? t§à bed now. Let''s go."

 Family(1)

    Despite their grumbling, Goneth herded Lily and Leneth toward their shared room. Meanwhile, Manny stayed behind, washing the dishes.


    As Manny washed the dishes, the repetitive motions of scrubbing and rinsing gave way to the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. The events of the day replayed vividly, each moment dragging him deeper into contemplation. He knew with certainty that the matter wasn''t over.


    Killing someone of the old man''s stature wouldn''t just stir the city''s law enforcement; it would ripple into something far more dangerous. Perhaps even something that reached beyond the mortal realm; alchemists, forces he dared not fully consider.


    A cold gleam flickered across his face as he came to a grim decision. Whatever the consequences might be, under no circumstance would he allow these kids to be caught in the crossfire of his impulsive actions. The choice he had made was his alone to bear, and so would be the repercussions.


    Finishing the last of the dishes, Manny quietly dried his hands. The house had fallen silent and the moon had unknowingly already risen up; Goneth had tucked the younger two into bed, and their soft, rhythmic breaths confirmed they were fast asleep.


    By the faint glow of a candle, Manny sat down at the rickety table. He pulled out a pen and paper, his hand steady despite the weight of his thoughts.


    This letter was for the kids, a set of instructions on what to do if he didn''t return after tonight and also his farewell. Manny understood that what he was about to attempt could easily be called suicide by anyone with a shred of sense. He folded the paper carefully after finishing, his jaw tightening as he stared at the words one last time.


    Quietly, he crept over to the bunk bed he shared with Goneth, placing the letter on the smaller bed beside his. Goneth, for all his youth only being fourteen¡ªwas the most responsible of them all. It was a reality that pained Manny. A boy of his age should have been attending school, playing in parks, or dreaming of adventures, not shouldering the burdens of survival. Yet, Goneth would frequently do odd jobs for whatever change he could get his hands on, ensuring their small household functioned despite their grim circumstances.


    Manny had always been grateful for Goneth''s maturity. It was the only reason he could even consider stepping away, knowing that someone capable would remain to guide the others. Goneth took on so much to lighten Manny''s load, even managing their meager finances with precision and care. Unlike Manny, who often caved to Leneth and Lily''s whims, Goneth ensured every coin was spent wisely.


    Placing the letter there felt like entrusting more than just instructions; it was handing over the fragile hope that this family could endure without him. With one last look at his sleeping sibling, Manny turned away, the weight of the night pressing heavily on his shoulders.


    Manny picked up his pipe, strapped it securely to his back, and draped his cloak over it. His gaze was steely, his resolve unwavering as he stepped out of the small house, careful to make no noise that might wake the others. The quiet night wrapped around him like a shroud, and for a moment, he thought he''d left without a trace.


    But just as he reached the edge of hearing distance, a hoarse yet familiar voice rang out behind him, piercing the silence and stopping him in his tracks.


    "Amongst the kids, you''re perhaps the only one who understands what I do outside of this house," the voice began, its tone trembling with restrained emotion. Manny froze, his fists clenching at his sides, his face contorting as if someone had thrown an onion in his path. Guilt. That voice, reading the letter he had written, churned up a guilt so deep it almost made him turn back.


    "And to be honest, I''ve never been ashamed of it. As much as I advocate for an upright life for you guys in this city, it''s hypocritical of me to go behind your backs and rob others. But I don''t care! I''m just that willful, and if there comes a day where I have to face the consequences, I''ll gladly take them on!This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    "Throughout the past few years, I''ve managed to save up quite a bit of money¡ªenough for you guys to stay afloat for a long while, so take that money and find a better place to live, away from here at least. Just do Not stay in this area after i leave, please. Because I..."


    The voice faltered, and Manny could hear the anger creeping in, quickly suppressed but unmistakable.


    "I won''t be here, perhaps ever again. But the kindness you have done for me is something I don''t think I can ever repay, and it''s not the only reason I stayed with you kids. Because you didn''t just save my life that day¡ªyou saved me. It''s your reliance and willingness to survive, no matter how much this city pushed you down, that kept me around for this long. But today, I may have to say goodbye."


    Manny turned, his chest tight, to see Goneth standing in the doorway, clutching the letter in trembling hands. Tears threatened to spill from the boy''s eyes, but it wasn''t just sadness etched across his face;it was anger. Pure, unfiltered anger, glowing in his red amethyst-like eyes, making them burn brighter in the dark.


    The young boy glared at Manny, his small frame trembling with barely restrained fury. "You think I don''t know what you''ve been up to this past year?" His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened.


    "What?" Disoriented and caught off guard, Manny barely managed to croak out the word.


    "You''ve been saving up money to give us away to an orphanage, haven''t you?!" Goneth''s voice cracked.


    Manny''s face twisted, the guilt he''d tried to bury now bubbling to the surface. "Have you been following me? How could you?" he shot back.


    "Don''t give me that!" Goneth snapped. "You know as well as I do how an orphanage owned by those damn elves would treat descendants of perpetrators like us!"


    Manny froze, he wanted to tell the boy this orphanage was different, that there was an elf out there who did not follow the rest of his kind like sheep, to justify himself but it was of no use at this point. Because then maybe he would have to also tell the boy what led up to the current predicament, His tongue heavy. He couldn''t summon a response, on some level Goneth was right. Dead right.


    In this world, the conflict between six-eared people and elves was a deeply rooted grudge that had been woven into every aspect of life. The ruler of the lands had forced reconciliation, but everyone knew it was little more than a thinly veiled truce. The prejudice lingered, manifesting in subtler but equally cruel forms. No orphanage owned by elves, would ever accept them as equals, and not as children in need.


    After a long silence, Manny turned his gaze away from Goneth, unable to meet the boy''s piercing red eyes.


    "I failed," he spat out, the words bitter.


    "You what?" Goneth''s eyes widened in shock.


    "I failed to negotiate with the orphanage," Manny said, his voice steady but tinged with defeat. He let out a sigh, meeting the boy''s gaze.


    "Then why? Weren''t you going to leave us because of the orphanage?" Goneth''s voice faltered, his anger muddied by bewilderment.


    "No," Manny replied firmly. "It''s because I failed that I have to go. Otherwise, they''ll find you guys."


    "You''re not making any sense! Who''s going to find us?" Goneth demanded.


    "The city enforcers, or worse, alchemists," Manny said grimly, his tone thick with emotion that he tried to rein in. "That''s why you need to take that money and head deeper into the slums. It''s the only way to keep you all safe."


    Goneth struggled to follow the conversation. He had assumed Manny was planning to abandon them; or, more accurately, leave them at an orphanage. A part of him even understood why. Despite cherishing his bond with Manny, he had always found him to be something of a mystery. Manny hadn''t always lived on this island, and Goneth had never pressed too hard for answers about his past.


    If there was one thing Goneth was certain of, it was that Manny''s past haunted him. There were nights when he would talk in his sleep, fragments of his dreams revealing pain that Goneth could barely imagine. Out of respect, he chose not to ask about it. Yet, he couldn''t help but pity this big brother figure, as much as he admired him.


    Manny had his own goals, his own objectives, whatever they were, and yet he still stayed. He cared for them, took on their burdens, and protected them as if they were family, despite the fact that they were practically strangers when they had first met. That thought made Goneth feel both grateful and guilty. Grateful for all Manny had done for them, and guilty that he couldn''t lighten the weight Manny carried.


    One could ask why Goneth was so angry at Manny if this was the case, and the answer was simple. He wanted him to stay. The thought of Manny leaving felt like a betrayal, as if he was disregarding how much his presence meant to them. To Goneth and the other kids, Manny wasn''t just a provider, he brought color to their otherwise bleak lives.


    It was selfish, perhaps, but that''s how children often are. No matter how much Goneth tried to act mature, deep down, he was still just a kid. And like any child, he clung to the people who made him feel safe and whole.


    Now, however, his anger had been thrown into disarray. There was more to the story than he had realized, more than Manny was telling him. He simply stood there, struggling to process the whirlwind of emotions.

 Family(2)

    Manny could see the turmoil playing out in Goneth''s eyes, Without hesitation, he walked over and gently wrapped his arms around the boy''s smaller frame, pulling him into a firm embrace. His hand moved to caress Goneth''s hair.


    After a moment, Manny knelt down, bringing himself to eye level. He gazed directly into Goneth''s sharp, red eyes. He should have anticipated this moment, he realized. Someone as clever as Goneth, forced by circumstance to understand the nature of people far earlier than he should have, was bound to see through the cracks in Manny''s plans. But even knowing that, he wouldn''t have done anything differently.


    Manny could feel it. Danger was closing in, the walls around them tightening with every passing moment. If he were alone, without anyone to care for or protect, he wouldn''t feel this way. He would welcome the risk, face it head-on without fear.


    But he wasn''t alone. He couldn''t abandon these kids to save himself, not when their lives had become his responsibility. Manny sighed inwardly, steeling his resolve.


    "Look, Goneth, it''s not what you think. I''m not leaving permanently," Manny began, his tone softer now. "I''m just taking a risk. A very big one. That''s why I said I''m not sure if I''ll ever come back."


    "Risk?" Goneth echoed, his voice tight with concern.


    "Yes," Manny replied with a weary sigh. "I''ve made a huge mistake... and I''ve Found things I never should have. It''s only a matter of time before bad people come to the slums looking for me."


    Manny couldn''t bring himself to tell Goneth the full truth; that he had killed someone for their sake. It was a weight he didn''t want the boy, or any of the kids, to carry. Whether his silence was born of guilt, shame, or something else entirely, he wasn''t ready to confront it. The incident had been a storm of uncontrollable anger and self-blame, emotions he couldn''t begin to untangle now.


    "I''ll be honest with you, Goneth," Manny continued, his voice firm. "This is going to be more dangerous than anything I''ve ever done. That''s why I need you to take the kids and hide for a while. If I don''t make it back, use the money to keep afloat until you can leave this island."


    Goneth''s eyes trembled, his composure cracking as he fought to hold back tears. "Why can''t you come with us? We could run away together, start over somewhere new!"


    "Don''t be stupid!" Manny snapped, unable to keep his voice from rising. "If I go with you, we''ll all be caught, or worse, killed. I''m not taking that chance!"


    The sharpness of his tone made Goneth flinch, but after a moment, the younger boy nodded reluctantly, his shoulders slumping.


    Manny smirked, with a wink he said. "You have known me for long enough to tell now, i am as unkillable as a thousand cockroaches, so I''ll come back in one piece."


    Manny''s attempt to lift the mood wasn''t much, but it was enough to brighten the boy''s spirits, even if only a little.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡ª----------------


    The sun rose over the slums of Starfallen City, casting pale light on the narrow alleys and crumbling rooftops. Goneth stirred awake, forcing himself into motion as if the events of the previous night had never happened. He slipped quietly into the kitchen, beginning to prepare breakfast for his younger siblings. As he moved about, he tried his best to mask his unease, to act like everything was as normal as any other morning.


    But Goneth knew it was only a matter of time before Lily and Leneth caught on. They always did. As he worked, he rehearsed in his mind how to explain their abrupt change of plans for the day. Normally, he would walk them to school, where they spent most of their day until noon, while he stayed home to tend to chores or run out for supplies.


    The thought of school tugged at an old memory, one of the many arguments he had with Manny. Manny had always insisted that Goneth should attend school, just like the younger two, while Goneth firmly refused. He felt his place was at home, helping with the housework and looking after Lily and Leneth. It was an argument that neither of them had fully won, and one that still flared up from time to time.


    Unlike private orphanages, which Goneth deeply distrusted, schools were different. The ruler of the land had decreed that education was to remain untouched by the old feud between the elves and six-eared people.


    That didn''t erase the systemic racism that lingered in subtle ways, but it made school one of the few spaces where clashes were less common, if not entirely absent.


    Despite the challenges, Manny saw education as a lifeline. In a city where opportunities were scarce, school offered a foothold, a way for children from the slums to build lives of dignity, even if it didn''t compare to the elite status of alchemists. That belief was why Manny refused to give up on the idea of Goneth attending school one day. For Manny, it was more than an ideal, it was a way out.


    Breakfast was simple¡ªeggs, a loaf of bread smothered with a strange green paste, and a glass of milk accompanying each plate. Goneth placed the three plates on the table before heading into his younger siblings'' room. Watching them snore peacefully, he let out a quiet sigh, then shook them awake. The two stirred reluctantly but eventually rose, groggy and slow-moving, to get ready for the day.


    When they finally sat at the table, the absence of Manny didn''t surprise either of them. It was common for him to leave early, so they thought little of it as they began eating.


    "So, how''s school?" Goneth asked, gesturing with his fork as he broke the silence.


    "It''s not so bad," Leneth replied casually before glancing up with a sly grin. "When are you going to start? You''re not that much older than us, you know."


    Goneth flinched at the question, caught off guard. Before his awkwardness could linger, Lily chimed in with a smirk on her face.


    "Heh, don''t let him fool you, Gon. He actually gets bullied."


    "By who?" Goneth asked, his composure quickly returning as his curiosity piqued.


    "It''s these two elf kids," Lily replied matter-of-factly. "I''ve seen it happen a lot."


    Leneth practically jumped in his seat, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "Quit lying, you brat! It''s just kids playing around. Plus, I''ve never lost a fight to those two."


    Lily rolled her eyes, her smirk turning into a full grin. "Who are you kidding? If it weren''t for the money being paid to the school, you would''ve quit already."


    Leneth glared, clearly flustered, but Goneth could only chuckle at the exchange.


    "Well, good thing you won''t have to worry about that for a while," Goneth said calmly.


    "What?!" both Leneth and Lily exclaimed in unison.


    "We have to ''move'' again," Goneth explained as he finished his plate. "It won''t be for long. We''ll just be away from this house for a little while."


    Moving wasn''t a foreign concept to any of them. Back when it had been just the three of them, small, scrappy kids,they had drifted from house to house, hoping to find somewhere that would accept their meager savings. More often than not, luck wasn''t on their side, and they had learned to live out of whatever temporary shelter they could scrape together.


    "What are you saying?" Leneth asked,"We haven''t done that in ages. Surely it''s not because of money, right?"


    "No, it''s not that," Goneth replied smoothly, keeping his tone steady. "It''s just... we''re looking to move out of the slums for good. While we look for a proper house, we need to stay away from this neighborhood in case of... accidents."


    It was a flimsy excuse, one he knew wouldn''t hold for long, but it was enough to keep their curiosity at bay for now. Manny had been explicit, they needed to move first thing in the morning. Goneth didn''t have the luxury of overthinking.


    Despite their protests and lingering questions, he told Leneth and Lily to change their clothes and wait outside while he gathered the stash of money Manny had left him. As he rummaged through the hiding spot inside the house, the siblings waited in front of the shabby structure.


    Unbeknownst to them, a hooded figure approached.


    The stranger''s frame was tall but lanky, their movements haggered as they drew closer to the house¡­.

 Toothless

    Manny wandered through the alleys of the slums, he was looking for someone or more accurately their hiding place.


    This person wasn''t known for physical strength or an imposing presence. In fact, quite the opposite. He was meek, ingratiating, and easily overlooked, a shadow in the of the slums. Yet, his influence stretched farther than most.


    Manny had first encountered this individual not long after meeting the kids. The man''s peculiar nature had struck him immediately. His skill set was unique: information gathering. Every whispered secret, every scrap of gossip that fluttered through the streets found its way to him, thanks to his network of "rats."


    The rats weren''t a formal group. They were just a collection of street kids, born into the slums and desperate enough to scrape together coins by any means.


    They had structure, but no symbol, and no identity. They simply existed, scurrying about the city, always watching, always listening. This man, their handler, paid them generously for the secrets they uncovered.


    Manny found him eccentric, to say the least. The man always seemed to know more than anyone should. But in the slums of Starfallen City, knowing things often meant the difference between survival and death.


    All morning, he had felt an unshakable tension, like the air before a storm. It gnawed at him, the sense that danger could strike at any moment.


    His greatest fear wasn''t the danger itself but failing to act first. That was why he was here, why this was his first move: finding Toothless, the info broker, before the people who would inevitably come looking for him did.


    But Manny wasn''t entirely sure what he intended to do once he found the man.


    Trust was something he rarely extended, and Toothless was no exception. The broker held too much information, on Manny, on the kids, on countless others, and that alone made him a potential threat.


    Yet Manny had no intention of harming him. On the contrary, they had always been on decent, even great terms. But in the slums, business and friendship were worlds apart, and Manny knew better than to blur that line.


    His distrust wasn''t personal. It was precautionary. This wasn''t just about survival; If worse came to worst, lives were on the line, and he wasn''t willing to gamble with those odds.


    Manny''s thoughts steadied as he arrived at a shabby street lined with ramshackle stalls. Vendors hawked their wares, shouting over one another in an attempt to sell their miscellaneous items, most of which Manny was certain were scams.


    But he paid them little attention. His focus was on the crowd, carefully scanning the passersby while trying to avoid attracting notice himself.


    It didn''t take long for something or someone to catch his eye.


    A young human boy, no older than ten, stood near the edge of the street. His torn blue jacket hung loosely over a thin frame, his worn-out sneakers scuffed. Black leather pants that seemed far too big for him were cinched at the waist with a torn out belt. But it was his behavior that drew Manny''s attention. The boy''s gaze darted around the street, sharp and attentive, as if he were cataloging everything he saw.


    One of Toothless''s rats, Manny thought, his lips tightening. He didn''t approach right away, instead watching carefully to confirm the boy''s purpose. After all, in the slums, appearances could be deceiving.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    The boy spotted Manny too, his body tensing as if ready to bolt, but recognition stopped him in his tracks.


    Manny didn''t hesitate, closing the distance quickly. He grabbed the boy calmly but firmly, steering him into a nearby alleyway where the bustle of the street faded. Once they were out of sight, he let the kid go.


    "You recognized me, didn''t you?" Manny asked, his tone steady but pointed. "So you should know I''m good friends with your boss."


    The boy, unfazed, adjusted his torn jacket and looked up at Manny with an unbothered, deadpan expression.


    With a resigned shrug, he reached into his pocket and tossed three brozen coins at the boy.


    The coins glinted faintly in the dim light, each one stamped with the image of a six earred person, his sharp features, pointed ears, and spirited gaze captured in elegant detail. The figure''s vest, crafted from what appeared to be silk, was a clear emblem of nobility and wealth.


    The boy caught them deftly, his expression instantly brightening. "Oh, three Gelos! Not bad. The rumors are true, you''re a real nice person, sir!" he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.


    Manny rolled his eyes. These kids were always quick to butter him up, and while he knew it was largely insincere, he couldn''t help appreciating their resourcefulness.


    Over the years, his occasional need to find Toothless had made him a familiar figure among these street kids. Bribing them had become a routine, though whether they would still help if he didn''t have a good relationship with their boss was anyone''s guess.


    "Alright, brat," Manny said with impatience. "I''ve got urgent business to deal with. Take me to your boss. Now."


    The boy let out a playful chuckle and bowed theatrically, one arm extended as he gestured down the alley.


    "Why, of course, my good sir! Right this way!"


    Manny snorted at the boy''s antics but followed him without hesitation.


    One after the other, they slipped through the alleys, leaving behind the crowded slums and entering a sprawling garbage dump.


    The air was thick with the stench of rust and decay, broken machinery piled high around them. The boy scanned the area carefully, his eyes darting around as they moved toward the far end of the junkyard.


    There, nestled among the wreckage, was an abandoned warehouse. Its walls were riddled with rust, and the faint creak of loose metal panels swayed in the wind. Just as they began to approach, the Man froze, grabbing the boy to halt Him.


    From a distance, a group of figures surrounded the warehouse entrance. The two crept closer, their steps cautious, taking care not to draw attention. As the figures came into focus, Manny''s stomach tightened.


    They were enforcers.


    Clad in their signature black-and-blue uniforms, the enforcers stood in a rigid formation, their militant presence unmistakable.


    Each one held a baton at their side, its metallic sheen catching the dim light. Emblazoned on their chests was the emblem of the empire: a Si-Ren, its design as intricate as it was menacing.


    The creature depicted had the head of a human with flowing blue hair, its eyes sharp and otherworldly. The torso was adorned with the claws of a bird, extending into the lower body of a fish, its tail covered in shimmering blue scales that seemed to glint even on the flat, painted surface.


    This symbol was no trivial design, it was a mark of authority that could not be faked. To attempt such a thing was to invite a death sentence, as those caught forging the empire''s emblem faced swift and brutal consequences.


    Manny clenched his jaw, his mind racing. The presence of enforcers here wasn''t just a coincidence. Something serious was unfolding, and it likely spelled trouble for him, and for Toothless.


    The little boy''s pupils shrank in panic as he instinctively moved to rush toward the warehouse, but a firm grip on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks.


    "L-let go! The boss is in big trouble!" he protested.


    "And what''s a brat like you going to do about it?" Manny replied.


    The boy hesitated, then reluctantly crouched back down behind the wreckage. His small hands clenched into fists as he struggled to calm himself. After a moment of silence, he muttered, "I don''t get it. The boss''s location changes almost weekly, and hardly anyone knows where he is. So how did these bastards find him?"


    "Because as much as we help you, we only do so because the boss treats you as a friend," the boy said, his voice trembling. "In these dirty slums, the boss gave us a way to survive. He took us under his wing. There''s no way we could tell on him!"


    Manny observed the boy silently.


    "Who knows?" Manny shrugged slightly. "But there''s one thing I can guess."


    "What''s that?" the boy asked


    "Your boss has probably escaped already," Manny said with a furrowed brow.


    "Huh? How would you know that?" the boy asked.


    "If they''d already gotten Toothless, it wouldn''t make sense for them to still be here, searching the place."


    The boy blinked, the logic sinking in as he glanced back at the enforcers.


    "Also, you need to leave this place," Manny said firmly. "I''ll go check the warehouse and see what''s going on inside."


    "Let me come with you! I might be of¡ª"


    The boy''s words were cut off swiftly by Manny''s sharp tone.


    "No. You''ll just be a burden to me," Manny replied, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Thanks for your help so far, but you''re free to go now."


    The boy froze, staring at Manny in silence for a moment. He could sense the stern refusal that wasn''t going to change no matter what he said. With a heavy heart, he gave a small nod, then turned and quietly left.


    Manny watched him disappear.


    His mind raced as he analyzed the situation. He planned to sneak in first, assessing the scene before making any moves. But if subtlety failed, he was prepared to let his pipe do the talking.


    Though he often avoided confrontation with the enforcers, he wasn''t afraid of them. Battles in the past had proven his strength, and he believed himself capable of taking on a dozen of them if it came down to it.


    His resolve hardened as he moved toward the warehouse.

 Danger

    The tall and lanky figure arrived at the house, his hood slipping back to reveal his features. He was a six-eared person, his pale white hair and striking red eyes catching the sunlight.


    His movements were unsteady, as if he were gasping for strength, and his white tail was carefully tucked beneath his clothing. Despite his haggard appearance, there was a maturity in his gaze that spoke of experience.


    Leneth and Lily stared at the man, their eyes widening in recognition.


    "Isn''t that...?" Lily began.


    "Yeah, it''s old man Toothless," Leneth finished with a smirk.


    Huffing, the man sank down onto the steps outside the house, his lanky frame folding awkwardly. He looked at the two with a tired expression before throwing out a casual retort.


    "Old man, huh? I''m barely thirty, you brats!"


    The siblings rolled their eyes in unison, unimpressed by his protest.


    "So, what are you doing here?" Leneth asked.


    Toothless straightened suddenly, his urgency reigniting as he placed his hands firmly on Leneth''s shoulders.


    "Where is Manasei?" he asked, his voice laced with panic.


    At that moment, Goneth stepped out from behind Toothless. His outfit was simple but practical: a black cropped jacket with long sleeves, a black shirt underneath, and a black belt with a small pouch made of elastic fabric strapped to it.


    Black leather pants and gray sneakers completed the ensemble, with a thin cloak draped over his shoulders, similar to the ones his younger siblings wore.


    Without warning, Goneth delivered a sharp kick to Toothless''s rear, sending the lanky man tumbling forward, face-first off the small stairs leading into the house.


    "You doofus," Goneth said coolly. "Don''t go scaring the kids with that tone."


    Toothless groaned, rubbing his back as he sat up. "Hey, you could''ve just told me that, you know."


    As he spoke, his teeth became visible; three mismatched teeth on his upper row standing out awkwardly among the others. Despite his considerable wealth, which could have easily fixed this oddity, Toothless had never bothered.


    "Leneth. Lily," Goneth said, his tone firm as he turned to his younger siblings. "Stay here for a second."


    The two nodded, knowing it was futile to protest. Even if they wanted to eavesdrop, Goneth would make sure they were out of earshot. Quietly, they sat down on the stairs as Goneth gestured for Toothless to follow him a short distance away. The lanky man, still rubbing his bruised back, complied without complaint.


    "I''ll cut straight to the chase since you seem to have an idea of what''s going on. Your brother is in deep trouble this time," Toothless said.


    "What do you mean?" Goneth asked, his voice hoarse.


    "This morning, I noticed enforcers flooding the slums, more than I''ve ever seen. Some of them even came for me, somehow finding my hideout and raiding it. I barely managed to escape, but before I slipped out, I learned what they wanted from me."This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "Manasei," Goneth said quietly, his expression darkening.


    "Exactly. He''s always found ways to get into trouble with the law, but this¡­ this is completely different. They''re not going to let him go, no matter what."


    Goneth listened in silence, his mind racing as he thought back to the events of last night. He had held onto a sliver of hope, convincing himself that Manny was overreacting, that this whole ordeal might blow over in time. Maybe they could return to their regular lives soon, he had thought. But hearing this shattered that fragile hope completely.


    His fists clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white as his lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, he forced himself to ask, "What could he have done to make them act like this?"


    Toothless sighed, his gaze softening as he looked at the boy. "I could guess what it might be, but¡­ I''m afraid you won''t like the answer."


    "What?" Goneth''s reply came absent mindedly.


    Toothless hesitated, giving the boy a long, searching look. He decided against burdening him with the truth, or at least the truth as he suspected it. Goneth likely had his own suspicions anyway.


    "On second thought, never mind," Toothless said abruptly. Hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere, he added, "What are your plans now?"


    Goneth exhaled sharply, choosing not to press for more information. "I plan to take the kids and hide somewhere until this thing blows over. No matter the circumstances, I have faith in Manny."


    Toothless nodded slowly.


    ¡ª-------------------


    At the warehouse, bodies littered the ground, unconscious. These were the enforcers, their uniforms dirtied and torn.


    Amidst them stood a cloaked young man, his figure obscured by the tattered fabric. In one hand, he held a battered metallic pipe, its surface stained from use. With the other, he gripped the blue shirt collar of an enforcer, dragging the man to his knees. The enforcer, his body bruised and trembling, looked up at Manasei with fear barely concealed beneath his defiant words.


    "You lunatic," the enforcer spat,"You think this will be the end of the chase?"


    Manasei''s response was calm but cold. Raising the pipe slightly, he said, "I''ll only say this once. I ask the questions. Otherwise, you won''t be as ''lucky'' as your friends here."


    The enforcer recalled the crime that had led to this manhunt, and while he couldn''t be sure of the details, one thing was clear: this young man had already killed someone, and someone of good status in this city as well. Not willing to gamble with his life, the enforcer nodded weakly.


    "Is this all the manpower that was sent for the arrest?" Manasei asked.


    "No."


    "Where are the others based?"


    The enforcer hesitated for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. But under Manasei''s glare, he broke. "Section 7, 4, and 5 of the slums. We received tips from other info brokers saying that''s where you mostly operate."


    Starfallen City, an island that was a sprawling metropolis with stark contrasts between its districts. The slums was one of these districts, split into 7 neglected sections riddled with poverty, crime, and limited law enforcement.


    Manasei had moved between them for years, always looking for opportunities to earn money. But even with his caution, there were places he frequented more often than others, making it inevitable that someone would take notice.


    Manasei processed the information in silence, his grip tightening slightly on the enforcer''s collar. Then he asked his next question,"Are there any alchemists dispatched?"


    The enforcer''s eyes widened slightly, his surprise evident. "As far as I know... No."


    Manasei''s eyes narrowed, which made the man squirm as beads of sweat trickled down his face.


    Before the enforcer could say more, Manasei brought the pipe down with a swift, brutal motion.


    SLAM!


    The enforcer crumpled to the ground, unconscious like the rest of his squad. Manasei didn''t spare him another glance.


    Them he turned sharply, dashing out of the junkyard with a renewed sense of urgency. His plan was clear: head to the sections the enforcer had mentioned; 7, 4, and 5, to piece together the bigger picture. While he was cautious, he didn''t consider the enforcers a serious threat.


    He knew the slums well, their winding alleys and hidden paths were like second nature to him. Arrogance had no place in his mindset, but he trusted his ability to outmaneuver and outwit.


    As he left the junkyard and crossed into Section 4, the nearest of the three, just then¡­.


    Two shadowy figures emerged from the gloom, as if they were following him to this alley. They were clad in tight black clothing, their faces obscured by masks. The aura they carried was palpable, oppressive even. Manasei''s instincts flared, and his body tensed.


    There was no mistaking it, these weren''t ordinary people. The distinction was as stark as a wolf moving among sheep.


    Manasei halted his steps, his mind racing. He wasn''t foolish enough to think he could take on two alchemists at once.


    His thoughts sharpened into a single objective.


    ''escape. Fighting isn''t an option. If I stay, I''m dead."

 Danger 2

    One of the black-clothed figures, shorter and thinner than the other, stepped forward. His masked face tilted as if studying Manasei with curiosity.


    "Hey, kid," the man said,. "Do you regret killing that old man now?"


    "What?" Manasei replied, his grip tightening on his metal pike as his eyes narrowed.


    "The orphanage counselor," the man clarified.


    Manasei''s gaze locked onto the man, his silence stretching for a moment before he finally spoke. "I see now. You two aren''t alchemists working with the enforcers. You''re here to cover up that dirty old man''s secret."


    The taller figure chuckled, his tone mocking. "Well, well, we''ve got ourselves a witty little rat here, don''t we?"


    Manasei gave a dry, humorless laugh, "Isn''t it a bit much, though? Sending two esteemed alchemists after a mere street rat like me?"


    "We''ve seen how capable you are. If you hadn''t made such an impulsive decision, you could have ruled these rat-infested streets with a life," the skinnier man chortled.


    "Given a choice, I''d do it again," Manasei shot back.


    The entire time, Manasei''s eyes flickered about. His mind worked furiously, analyzing every possible escape route, but his heart sank as he realized the corners were closing in. They weren''t leaving him any room to slip away. Turning his back on them for even a second would almost certainly result in his death.


    He masked his growing nerves with forced bravado, steadying his voice and sharpening his words.


    If I can''t run, I''ll stall.


    "Let''s get this over with quickly, Number 72," the taller man said, his voice cold and impatient. "If the enforcers show up, it''ll be harder to act as we please. And this brat might try to take advantage of that."


    The shorter man, Number 72, nodded in agreement. "You''ve got a point. Even though he''s got an abnormal level of physical prowess, I can handle him. You just make sure to keep the escape routes sealed."


    Manasei had always been physically exceptional, far surpassing not only his peers but even grown adults. His strength, reflexes, and endurance bordered on the supernatural, feats often attributed to alchemists. Yet he himself didn''t see it that way. The origin of this abnormality was a part of himself he avoided confronting, not out of ignorance but because of the trauma and distress it brought. Thinking about it dredged up emotions he wasn''t ready to face.


    Instead, he accepted it as a tool, something he had grown used to wielding. It didn''t matter where it came from or why it existed, as long as it served his goals. Maybe someday he would have the courage to face the truth, but today was not that day.


    As Number 72 lunged forward, his fist tore through the air with a speed that was almost impossible to track.


    THUD


    The punch connected squarely with Manasei''s stomach, sending him flying backward. He spat out saliva as the air was forced from his lungs, barely managing to stop himself before slamming into the concrete wall of the alley


    Number 72 didn''t let up. His movements were quick and deliberate, his agile figure closing the gap in an instant. This time, Manasei managed to intercept the blow with his metal pipe


    BANG


    The metallic clash reverberated through the narrow space, a testament to the sheer physical power enhanced by alchemy. Manasei''s muscles tensed as he struggled to hold his ground. The two began exchanging blows, the clang of metal and the rush of air from swift punches filling the alley.


    Despite Number 72''s calm and relentless attacks, Manasei focused on defense, barely blocking or dodging each hit. The rhythm of their battle shifted, whether by design or accident, as the two gradually moved out of the alley and into a rather empty street.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation."You think it''ll make a difference?" the taller man called out, his voice carrying a tone of casual confidence. Perched atop a nearby building, he looked down at Manasei with a faint, almost mocking smile. "We chose this spot specifically. So I''m sorry to say, we''ll be the last people you''ll ever see."


    His cold gaze flicked up to the man on the roof.


    Manasei kept silent throughout the skirmish, his lips pressed into a tight line. He had always found talking during combat pointless, even dangerous, Words could distract, and this wasn''t the time to risk losing his focus. His sharp eyes darted around, scanning for any possible opening to escape,


    There''s always a way out, he thought grimly. I just have to find it.


    Suddenly, Number 72''s arm glowed with a pale orange hue, an eerie shimmer that radiated power. Manasei''s eyes widened in shock. This was unexpected, by the looks of it, something devastating.


    The punch came fast, almost faster than Manasei could process. In that instant, his thoughts crystallized: Block it, or it''s over.


    He gripped his metal pike with both hands, holding it horizontally across his chest to brace against the incoming blow. The force of the punch collided with the weapon, but what happened next took him completely off guard.


    The glowing fist shattered the metal pike, splitting it in two. One half flew off into the distance, the other remained in Manasei''s trembling hands.


    The remnants of the punch slammed into his chest with the force of a hammer, sending him reeling backward. Blood sprayed from his mouth, the metallic taste flooding his senses as pain radiated through his torso. Yet amidst the agony, his eyes burned with a ruthless fire.


    Before Number 72 could pull back, Manasei lunged forward with what remained of the pike. His movements were fueled by instinct and desperation, driving the jagged metal into the man''s neck with brutal speed. The skin was unnaturally tough, the hardest layer to pierce, but the sharp edge managed to break through.


    Number 72 grunted in pain and rage, his hand shooting out to shove Manasei away. The force of the push sent Manasei stumbling backward, his grip on the broken pike tightening as he steadied himself.


    The entire exchange, though seemingly complex, had unfolded within seconds.


    In the chaos of the moment, Manasei used the force of the push to propel himself backward into a nearby alley. His instincts screamed at him to run, to put distance between himself and the injured Number 72. The man might be a distraction now, but as Manasei turned to flee, something unexpected happened.


    With all his might, 72 hurled a circular blade, its edges glinting sharply in the sunlight as it tore through the air at a blinding speed. Manasei barely registered the attack before¡ª


    SWISH!


    The blade sliced past his left arm, and the sound of something hitting the ground followed¡ªa dull, wet plop.


    For a moment, Manasei kept running, his body propelled forward by pure adrenaline. Then it hit him. Pain.


    It was surreal, overwhelming, a fiery agony that seemed to radiate from everywhere at once. Beads of sweat dripped down his face as he dared to glance at his arm¡ªwhat was left of it. Blood poured from the ragged stump where his forearm had once been, the sight almost making him stumble.


    But he didn''t stop. He couldn''t.


    If he stopped, he''d lose more than his arm. Gritting his teeth, he made a sharp turn down another alley, his vision blurring slightly from the pain and blood loss. Spotting a sewer grate, he threw himself down into the darkness, landing with a splash in the foul-smelling waters below.


    Forcing himself to steady, he tore a chunk of his cloak with trembling hands and tied it tightly around the wound. The makeshift tourniquet slowed the bleeding, though it did little for the pain. Still, Manasei didn''t stop. He couldn''t afford to.


    He pushed forward through the sewers, the darkness swallowing him as he made turn after turn, each one more erratic than the last. His mind raced as quickly as his feet, but amidst the searing pain, another emotion surged; anger.


    Pure, unbridled anger.


    He wasn''t angry at 72, but more so what had let up to this moment, His fury was directed inward, at himself. He knew he could have ended 72 during their fight, but he hadn''t. He had hesitated. The guilt and fear that lingered around the act of taking another life had stayed his hand, and now, he was paying the price for it.


    No more, he vowed, his jaw tightening as he stumbled forward. ''No more stupid sentiments, no more hesitation. I won''t let myself be weak again.''


    With each step deeper into the sewers, he resolved to cast away the part of himself that clung to mercy and guilt.


    Only now, with his life hanging by a thread, did Manasei truly understand: in battle, there was no room for hesitation, no space for mercy. A fight wasn''t just a clash of wills or skills, it was about survival, about reducing your opponent to nothing before they could do the same to you.


    From this moment forward, he vowed to abandon the lingering sentiments that had once held him back. Mercy was a luxury he could no longer afford.


    Like anyone else, he had people who depended on him, siblings waiting for his return, and a past he had yet to resolve. These were the things that tethered him to the world, the reasons he couldn''t falter.


    He would no longer be so charitable as to spare those who sought his life. If they came for him, he would meet them with all the ruthlessness necessary to survive.


    It was a lesson learned painfully, etched into his body and mind this day, and one he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

 Chase

    72 gritted his teeth and snapped his jaw shut, his face contorted in a mix of anger and pain as he slowly pulled the embedded metal pipe from his neck. He knew that if the brat had pushed it just a millimeter further he would have been a goner.


    The fear of death clouded his mind, leaving him momentarily disoriented, his fury simmering just beneath the surface.


    Damn that brat! I swear, I will kill him! he cursed inwardly.


    Meanwhile, the taller figure, 69, had descended from the rooftop and stood near the circular weapon that 72 had thrown at Manasei. His gaze fixated on the blade with a frown.


    It was chipped, although slightly.


    The sight unsettled him deeply. He knew exactly how durable that weapon was, forged to cut through anything on the level of soldier rank dungeon Threats with ease, which strictly speaking was impossible to find Anywhere in the slums of this city. For it to sustain damage, especially from a brat who had seemingly never practiced alchemy, was absurd.


    "Hey, 69, what the hell are you doing? Why aren''t you going after that brat?" 72 rasped..


    "Your chakram. It''s damaged," 69 replied absently, his focus still on the weapon in his hand.


    ''What? That''s ridiculous.''


    72''s eyes widened in disbelief.


    The thought brought him back to his brief clash with Manasei. Though he had been holding back for most of the fight, he now realized that no normal person should have been able to withstand his oroa enhanced attack. And yet, Manasei had blocked it, even retaliated, though injured.


    It wasn''t just raw, innate strength. There was something else about the boy, something familiar.


    72''s mind raced as he pieced it together. That same energy he used to strengthen himself ¡ª Oroa ¡ª he could sense it faintly within Manasei. Dormant, perhaps, but undeniably there.


    After a moment of hesitation, he spoke, his voice hoarse but tinged with conviction. "That kid¡­ I think his skin has already been washed by oroa."


    69 frowned, furrowing his brow as he dismissed the notion. "That''s impossible. If he had any idea what Oroa was, he would be able to utilize it consciously; especially if he were a body alchemist."


    The possibility left a heavy silence between them.


    "Well, even though he''s crippled now, you never know what a cornered beast might resort to," said 72, his voice bitter as he clutched his neck.


    With a nod, his partner responded, "We can''t go back without finishing him off. If we do, it''s our heads on the line."


    "it''s quite ridiculous don''t you think?," 72 muttered. "How was this city''s operation busted by a little brat like that. Why doesn''t the organization just put low-level alchemists in charge instead of mortals?"


    "How would I know? We are just some low level assassins, but if I had to guess, it would be for secrecy."


    "Secrecy?"


    "Think about it, who would suspect a kind elf trying to mend racial tensions between his people and the six Ears?" his tone errie he continued. "and what would the consequences would be if it ever got out what that said elf was truly up to?"If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    As 69 spoke, his gaze wandered to the area where Manasei had fallen into the sewer. He moved past it cautiously, scanning for any trace of the boy''s blood or movement.


    Manasei''s missing arm throbbed with an intense, itchy sensation that was impossible to ignore. It was strange, almost surreal, how the sensation eclipsed the numbing pain he had managed to push through so far. The itch became unbearable, forcing him to stop, his legs unwilling to take another step until he addressed it.


    When he looked down at what remained of his left arm, what he saw made him frown in confusion.


    His focus had been so fixed on his missing hand, perhaps driven by desperation or sheer will to survive, that he hadn''t noticed what was happening. The severed limb beneath his black compression shirt began to glow faintly, the veins beneath his skin becoming visible with an eerie red light.


    The glowing intensified, and the edges of the wound began to contract inward.


    THUMP.


    The contraction sent a shockwave of pain radiating through his body, causing him to stagger and let out a guttural groan. The bleeding stopped entirely as the wound seemed to seal itself, though the sensation left him shaking and disoriented.


    Manasei stared at his arm, trying to process what had just happened. But there was no time for reflection. He shook off the shock and forced himself to move.


    Even though he had put back the sewer hole cover, he knew it was only a matter of time before his pursuers found his trail. Meeting them again, especially in his condition, would mean certain death.


    Keep moving, he thought, his jaw clenched against the lingering pain. Just get to the next section. Find an escape route. Lose them for good.


    Manasei pushed forward through the sewers, the faint sound of rushing water and his own footsteps echoing around him.


    69 pried open the manhole, peering into the darkness below before jumping in with practiced ease. The faint splash of water echoed as he landed. Before descending, he had instructed 72 to head toward the next section of the slums, ensuring they covered both possible escape routes.


    "If he didn''t take the sewers, he''s bound to show up there eventually," 69 had said with certainty. "No sense putting all our eggs in one basket."


    Although he wasn''t as familiar with the labyrinthine sewage system as someone like Manasei might be, 69 believed he had an edge. The boy was severely injured, his condition worsening with every passing moment. In his mind, the odds of the kid making it far were slim to none.


    69 scanned his surroundings, his sharp eyes adjusting to the dim, damp environment. The faint traces of blood on the ground glimmered faintly in the light filtering from above, leading him deeper into the sewer system.


    "Let''s see how far you think you can run," he murmured.


    Suddenly, in Section 5, a deafening alarm began to blare, reverberating through the streets and alleys. The sound was relentless, cutting through the air like a knife. It wasn''t just a local alarm, it seemed the entire section was engulfed in the noise. Even Manasei, a little distance from Section 5 and deep within the sewers, heard the shrill cry echoing around him.


    He froze for a moment, instinctively tensing. The sound was unmistakable.


    Above ground, no one questioned the alarms. Not the the well off folk, nor the poor wandering the slums. Among the three races inhabiting the city, humans, elves, and the six-eared people, there was no room for speculation. Everyone knew exactly what it meant.


    A dungeon had appeared in Section 5.


    The alarms were a universal language, and they elicited the same reaction in everyone who heard them: dread. No matter their status, race, or beliefs, every resident of Starfallen City, and indeed, anyone across the world, knew the terror these alarms signified.


    Dungeons were relatively common occurrences, yet they inspired an almost irrational fear. No amount of frequency dulled the anxiety they brought. These were not mere structures or events; they were chaotic, unpredictable anomalies that spat out death, destruction, and horrors.


    Manasei''s blood ran cold. Though his immediate focus was on escaping his pursuers, the distant alarms were not good news.


    What else could go wrong today? he thought grimly.


    His mind racing as a daring plan began to take shape. It was reckless, borderline suicidal, but given his circumstances, it might be his only chance.


    If I can use the dungeon to escape... he thought. The idea was dangerous, but the logic was sound. The chaos of a dungeon appearing would overshadow anything else, even the pursuit of two assassins.


    But the risks were immense. Manasei had never set foot inside a dungeon before.


    Still, the alternative was a direct confrontation with the two black-clad alchemists, a fight he was certain he wouldn''t survive in his current state.


    What''s more chaotic than a dungeon? he reasoned.


    His window of opportunity was shrinking. He knew the enforcers would soon block off the portal to the dungeon, and worse, other alchemists might arrive to secure the area. If he was going to act, it had to be now.


    Gritting his teeth, Manasei made his decision. He turned toward Section 5, forcing his battered body to move.

 Chase 2

    Manasei climbed up the ladder toward the manhole, the effort far more taxing with only one hand. But he gritted his teeth and pushed through. At last, he reached the top. With his right hand, he pushed the manhole cover aside, using his legs to keep balance so he would not fall off the stairs.


    What greeted him was pure pandemonium.


    Shouts and screams filled the air as people ran in every direction, their faces pale with fear. Enforcers waded through the crowd, their batons and runic guns strapped securely to their sides as they shouted orders in an attempt to bring some semblance of control.


    Manasei pulled himself up cautiously, his torn cloak falling over his missing hand. He took a moment to survey his surroundings. The alley he emerged into was mercifully empty. He kicked the manhole cover back into place before darting out into the street.


    The atmosphere was suffocating, a mix of fear and urgency that made it difficult to focus. But Manasei had one goal: finding the dungeon portal.


    It wasn''t hard to narrow it down. The panicked crowd moved away from a particular area, their reactions like breadcrumbs leading to the source of the danger. And then, he saw it.


    Suspended about a foot off the ground, the portal pulsed ominously. Its surface shimmered and swirled, hues of deep violet and black mixing like ink in water.


    Manasei''s heart pounded as he pushed through the crowd, his focus locked on the portal.


    As Manasei sprinted toward the dungeon portal, his mind wrestled with doubt. The ominous gateway loomed ahead, its swirling violet and black surface promising danger.


    Maybe I don''t have to take this risk... he thought desperately. Maybe I can find another way to escape.


    But before the thought could take hold, his instincts screamed at him. He threw himself to the side, his reflexes honed by years of survival.


    SWISH!


    A circular blade whizzed past his cloak, slicing cleanly through the air before embedding itself into an innocent bystander. The person dropped to the ground, lifeless.


    Manasei''s heart sank, a wave of guilt threatening to consume him. But there was no time to grieve. The reality was clear, one of the assassins, if not both, had caught up to him. His hopes of slipping away unnoticed had been crushed.


    Gritting his teeth, Manasei''s mind raced. The crowd erupted into chaos, screams echoing around him as people scrambled to get away from the sudden violence. In the panic, he spotted the chakram exit the bystander''s body. Its deadly spin had halted, and he knew he had only seconds before it was lost in the crowd.


    he darted toward the fallen weapon, yanking it free from the trembling ground. The chakram felt unnervingly cold in his hand, but he shoved the thought aside, tucking it beneath his cloak to conceal it.


    As he straightened, his eyes locked with those of 69. The taller assassin stood amidst the crowd, his masked face revealing nothing, but his eyes burned with malice.


    Manasei returned the glare, his own narrowed with equal determination. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    He had no time to waste.


    The portal was only 50 meters away now, Manasei dashed through the crowd, weaving between panicked bodies and shouts of terror. His heart pounded, and his grip on the stolen chakram tightened.


    I have to make it, he thought. There''s no turning back now.


    His only hope was that 69 hadn''t noticed the theft.


    In the escaping crowd, now even more panicked after finding a dead body so close to the portal, stood a boy of about eleven years old. His baggy leather pants were tattered, his belt barely holding them in place, and his blue jacket hung loosely over his thin frame. It was the same rat Manasei had encountered earlier today.


    The boy was shaken, much like everyone else. Dungeons rarely appeared in the city, especially in the slums. Most were cleared swiftly by empire alchemists or powerful guilds before they ever became a threat. Yet, here it was, a glaring anomaly in a place already riddled with turmoil.


    The boy had seen the person killed not far from the portal, but what shocked him more was the figure standing next to the body: Manasei. His eyes widened as he realized it was indeed the older boy. Something seemed off, though, was one of Manasei''s arms missing?


    The thought made his stomach churn. Though he didn''t know Manasei well, the sight unsettled him deeply. His pale expression betrayed his thoughts as he tried to piece together what must have happened in the past few hour or so.


    As he watched, Manasei sprinted through the crowd, his torn cloak flapping behind him. He was heading straight for the dungeon portal.


    Why? the boy thought, his surprise mounting. It wasn''t just the direction that caught his attention, it was the way Manasei moved, as if he were running from someone. Or something.


    And the boy was right. Though he couldn''t fully track them, he caught glimpses of a figure moving with ghostly allure through the crowd. Whoever it was, they seemed to be targeting Manasei specifically.


    The boy''s heart pounded as he gripped the edges of his jacket, watching the scene unfold with growing dread. Manasei wasn''t just running toward the portal, he was running for his life.


    As 69 pursued Manasei through the chaotic crowd, 72 trailed not far behind. Both of them kept their eyes fixed on their target, their expressions hidden behind their masks but their frustration evident.


    "What is this kid thinking? Is he suicidal?" 72 muttered, his voice sharp with disbelief. "How could he just run into a dungeon like this?"


    "He must think he can escape through the dungeon''s objective," 69 replied coldly. "Hmph. We have to kill him before he gets there."


    "That''s easier said than done," 72 grumbled, glancing at the panicked mass of people surging around them. "Look at all these fools buzzing around. It''s slowing us down as much as him."


    While the two assassins debated their next move, Manasei was watching them closely, his sharp gaze flicking back to gauge their movements. The chakram, concealed beneath his cloak, felt heavy in his grasp. It was his one trump card, and they hadn''t seemed to notice he had taken it.


    Not yet, Manasei thought, gritting his teeth as he carefully edged closer to the portal. I have to wait for them to close the distance even more. If I can just take out one of them¡­


    Step by step, he moved through the crowd, his mind focused on timing. Meanwhile, 69 and 72 were coming to a grim conclusion.


    "It might cause a commotion," 72 said, a ruthless glint in his eye, "but we need to start using more brutal means at this rate."


    As if to punctuate his words, 72''s fist began to glow orange again, this time with the intense heat of fire. Flames licked up his arm as he reared back, his gaze devoid of hesitation.


    BOOM!


    The impact sent a panicked civilian flying through the air. The unfortunate bystander hit the ground with a sickening thud, their chest bearing the imprint of a fist, scorched and smoking. They lay unresponsive as smoke curled upward from the point of impact.


    "Make way! We are alchemists!" 72 shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.


    The crowd, already terrified, shrank back in horror, giving the two assassins a wide berth. People screamed and scrambled to get as far away as possible.


    The scene immediately caught the attention of the enforcers nearby. Several of them, armed with batons and runic guns, began rushing toward the commotion, their shouts rising above the noise of the crowd.


    Manasei, watching this unfold from the corner of his eye, felt his pulse quicken. This is it, he thought. This is the opportunity I needed.


    With the crowd parting and the enforcers closing in, the dynamics of the chase were shifting, and Manasei intended to use it to his advantage.

 Dungeon

    Only 30 meters separated Manasei from the dungeon portal. The thinning crowd allowed him to move faster, his ragged breath syncing with the pounding of his heart as he dashed forward.


    He was keenly aware that the enforcers could only hold off the two assassins for a fleeting moment. While runic weapons were effective against lower-level alchemists, these two weren''t mere novices. They''d find a way to push past the enforcers sooner rather than later.


    Manasei tightened his grip on the stolen chakram hidden beneath his cloak, focusing on the portal ahead. His plan was simple: the sooner he entered, and the longer it took them to follow, the better his odds.


    Dungeons had one key feature that even common mortals understood¡ªthe administrator. This mysterious being who controlled the portals ensured that anyone entering at different intervals would be separated within the dungeon.


    For Manasei, this was crucial. If he could break free of the assassins, he would have more chances of survival within the dungeon. With the portal leading to the firmament, a plane of existence vast enough to be a world in itself, even Though it would put them within relative distance of the "objective." That said distance would still cover quite a lot in retrospect.


    He gritted his teeth and pushed harder, the gap shrinking rapidly. I just need to get inside before they catch me. The rest will be up to luck.


    "Damn it! At this rate, he''s going to enter the dungeon, and we''ll have no choice but to follow!" 69 snarled, frustration evident in his tone.


    "That might not be the case," 72 replied, his gaze fixed on Manasei''s retreating figure. "We haven''t even checked the portal''s aether levels. Look at him, rushing to it in that state. Entering could kill him outright."


    "Maybe, but unless we see his corpse, going back empty-handed will be our death sentence," 69 said coldly.


    72 clenched his fists, flames flickering at his knuckles. "Then¡­"


    "Yes," 69 interrupted, his voice sharp. "We follow. But first, deal with these pests."


    Dodging a runic beam, 69 darted toward one of the enforcers. The man''s eyes widened in panic as he tried to steady his weapon, but he was too slow.


    69''s hand glowed with an icy blue light, forming a blade of frost along his arm. With a single swipe, he slashed the enforcer''s neck, severing it cleanly.


    Blood splattered as the man''s head hit the ground, his body collapsing in a lifeless heap.


    The remaining enforcers hesitated, terror freezing them in place.


    72 moved in, his fists erupting in flames. He struck with brutal efficiency, each fiery blow sending enforcers sprawling or leaving charred craters where they stood.


    The air filled with smoke and screams as the assassins cleared their path.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Manasei reached the portal, his figure steady. He cast a cold, defiant glance at the two assassins racing toward him. His gaze seemed to taunt them, daring them to follow.


    Not far away, the young boy from earlier was retreating from the pandemonium. His eyes widened in disbelief as he caught sight of Manasei standing at the edge of the portal.


    He wouldn''t¡­


    But before the boy could process what was happening, Manasei stepped into the swirling gateway, disappearing from view.


    The boy stood frozen for a moment, stunned. Even from the safe distance he''d managed to put between himself and the portal, he recognized that cloaked figure.


    He actually went in¡­


    Biting his lip, the boy turned and hurried away, determination flashing in his eyes. Toothless has to know about this, he thought, his steps quickening.


    In his mind, Manasei''s fate was sealed. With only one arm and two alchemists hunting him down inside a dungeon, survival was nothing short of impossible. Even for someone hardened by the slums, the thought left a bitter taste.


    As the boy ran off into the distance, the two assassins finally reached the portal. Minutes had already passed since Manasei had entered, the enforcers having delayed them just long enough to give him a head start.


    "We need to check the aether levels," 69 said firmly. "Let''s see what rank the objective is before we follow."


    72 quickly retrieved a small, circular device from his belt. About the size of his palm, its gray surface was smooth and unassuming. Pressing a button on top, the device emitted a brief beam of light toward the portal. Moments later, the letter E glowed brightly on its display.


    He let out a sigh of relief. "It''s an E-rank objective."


    "Don''t relax just yet," 69 replied. "The rank only tells us part of the story. Dungeons are more dangerous than the objectives alone."


    72''s expression hardened as he nodded in agreement.


    Without wasting another moment, the two assassins stepped toward the swirling portal, their resolve steeled to continue the hunt.


    ¡ª-------


    The moment Manasei stepped into the portal, an oppressive darkness enveloped him. He opened his eyes, frowning as he realized he was suspended in midair, weightless and surrounded by an endless void. The sensation was unnerving, but he forced himself to stay calm.


    His unease grew as the silence stretched on, only for it to be broken by a voice; clear, youthful, and resonant, as if belonging to someone in their early teens.


    "Greetings, savior!"


    The words echoed from all directions, distant yet unnervingly close. Manasei shielded his eyes as the darkness abruptly gave way to a blinding light, illuminating the once-empty void.


    This must be the administrator, he thought, squinting against the radiance.


    The voice''s tone surprised him. It sounded sentient, far more alive and personable than he had expected. Most who had ventured into dungeons agreed that the so-called "administrator" was more a mechanical presence than a sentient being. But to Manasei, it sounded startlingly real, almost as if a young boy were speaking directly to him.


    Manasei frowned slightly at being addressed as "savior." This was his first time entering a dungeon, and he couldn''t think of anything he''d done to warrant such a grand title.


    "Why are you calling me savior?" he asked cautiously.


    The voice chuckled, its tone light and cheerful. "You''re not the first to ask that, nor will you be the last. This title is reserved for anyone brave enough to enter a dungeon, regardless of their circumstances. For that act alone is among the greatest feats one can achieve in this world!"


    Manasei blinked, momentarily caught off guard by how radiant and enthusiastic the voice became. But his expression quickly hardened, he didn''t have time to get lost in pleasantries.


    "As much as I''d love to chat, I''m in a hurry," he said, "I need to find the objective and get out of here as fast as possible. Can you take me to it?"


    The voice chuckled again, this time with a reassurance. "No need to worry, young savior. Time does not pass during this interaction. Feel free to ask your questions before you proceed."


    Manasei exhaled, relief washing over him.


    Good, he thought. The last thing he wanted was to rush blindly into his first dungeon, especially when it was meant as a desperate escape. Even if survival seemed slim, he wanted to maximize his chances.


    "If that''s the case, tell me this," Manasei began. "What is the objective of this dungeon, where will I be taken, and how dangerous is it?"


    The empire had made significant efforts to spread basic knowledge of dungeons across all strata of society. Through entertainment, historical accounts, and autobiographies, even the poorest in the slums were taught about these perilous phenomena.


    This initiative stemmed from the ruler''s unwavering resolve to ensure that every citizen could contribute to the fight against dungeons when the need arose. After all, dungeons posed the greatest threat to all sentient life.


    However, knowledge alone was rarely enough. Understanding the workings of a dungeon and possessing the ability to survive within one were worlds apart. Even the lowest-ranked dungeons teemed with dangers far beyond what most mortals could endure.


    Compounding the threat was the environment within the dungeon. While the objective; the core of the dungeon, was undeniably lethal, the surrounding terrain often posed an even greater risk. Toxic mists, shifting landscapes, or cursed beasts were just a few examples of how the environment itself could kill long before one reached the objective.


    For those brave, or desperate enough to enter, survival required more than knowledge. It demanded skill, resilience, and an almost unnatural stroke of luck.

 Dungeon 2

    "To start off, your objective is to wipe out a settlement of soldier-rank green demons!" the voice declared calmly.


    Manasei''s expression eased a bit. While he didn''t know all the rankings of demons, one thing was clear, soldier rank was the lowest. That was, at least, some good news.


    Still, the idea of facing even the weakest demons in his current state would not end well. A single soldier-rank green demon would have been difficult enough at his peak, let alone now, missing an arm and already battered. Yet, compared to anything stronger, this was a challenge he could stomach.


    The voice continued, "The settlement is located on the outskirts of the ''Forest of Melody.'' You will be dropped in close proximity to it."


    Manasei raised an eyebrow. "Forest of Melody?" he asked.


    "Yes," the voice replied evenly. "Even the green demons avoid venturing further into the forest''s depths."


    "Cursed beasts¡­" Manasei muttered grimly.


    "Correct," the voice confirmed. "Cursed beasts that rank far higher than the demons you''ll face. I strongly advise you to remain within the outskirts as well."


    The mention of cursed beasts sent a chill through him. Little was publicly known about these creatures, but that was enough to make even him shudder.


    Irrational and devoid of sentience, cursed beasts attacked anything in their path, whether demon or mortal. They were grotesque abominations, their deformed bodies twisted into horrific shapes that defied reason.


    The fact that a forest brimming with these creatures loomed so close to his objective didn''t bode well. For a crippled Manasei, survival would require every ounce of cunning and caution he could muster.


    "The green demons have been exploring the outskirts so far, but it won''t be long before they venture into your reality," the voice warned. "I would also recommend waiting for backup¡­ In your current state, this will be quite a challenge."


    Manasei stayed silent, his thoughts churning. After a moment, he broke the quiet.


    "I''ll be honest with you, uh¡­" he trailed off, glancing around awkwardly. "Wait, what should I even call you?"


    "Administrator?" the voice offered simply.


    "No, I mean, you sound like a real person, nothing like some mechanical ''thing.'' Don''t you have a ''real'' name?"


    The voice paused, as if taken aback, before laughter echoed all around him.


    "You may call me Aladdin, young savior," the voice finally replied, a cheerful tone carrying the words.


    "Aladdin, I''ll be honest with you," Manasei began, his tone calm but resolute. "I didn''t come here to clear this objective. I entered this dungeon out of desperation, to escape my enemies."


    He exhaled slowly. "I''m just a street rat whose misfortune has hit an all-time high. I''ll probably just stick to the edges of the objective, trying to preserve my life."Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    There was a pause, as if Aladdin was considering the words. Then, the voice returned, gentle yet firm.


    "I suspected as much," Aladdin replied. "But you seem to misunderstand my role. There''s no need to feel guilt or apprehension. No matter your reasons for entering a dungeon, survival is the one thing I will always advocate for above all else."


    Manasei blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "So¡­ you''re not going to kick me out of here?"


    Aladdin chuckled lightly. "No. I have no authority to do so. I''m merely a ferryman. It doesn''t matter who the traveler is, my duty is only to get them across."


    Manasei nodded slowly, his gaze steady. "I see. Then, is there anything else in the forest I should be aware of?"


    "That is all I believe," Aladdin said, his tone calm. "I will take you across now, if you have no further questions."


    "None," Manasei replied with a nod. "Please do so, and I hope we meet again, Aladdin."


    With a faint wave, Manasei vanished in a flash of light.


    The colorless void fell silent once more, fading into complete darkness as he departed.


    ---


    Manasei blinked, and in the next instant, his surroundings shifted drastically. His eyes adjusted slowly to the red hue bathing the land, an unsettling light that seemed to emanate from above. Instinctively, he looked up.


    What he saw left him momentarily speechless. Three glowing red orbs hovered in the sky, like suns casting an eerie crimson glow over the forest below. The sight twisted his sense of reality, leaving him disoriented.


    This world¡­ he thought, his jaw slack in disbelief.


    But the moment passed. Manasei clenched his teeth, forcing his thoughts into order.


    No time for sightseeing.


    he was likely the weakest being in this forest. If he stopped moving, he''d be nothing more than prey.


    First things first, scanning the horizon. I need to locate the settlement so I can keep track of it.


    The last thing he wanted was to stumble into a den of green demons unprepared. He needed to scout the area carefully, staying out of sight and keeping to the shadows.


    Before long, Manasei spotted one of the green demons, or as they were more commonly known, goblins. He crouched low behind a bush, a few meters away, studying the creature intently.


    Its green, leathery skin gleamed faintly in the crimson light. A bald head and pointed ears gave it an almost comical appearance, but its piercing yellow eyes and muscular frame exuded menace. Though short in stature, the goblin''s compact build suggested a strength that belied its size.


    It was dressed primitively, strips of cloth draped across its torso, and in its hand was a weapon forged from jet-black material, crude but undoubtedly dangerous.


    Manasei''s breath steadied as he began trailing the goblin from a safe distance. He kept to the shadows, careful not to make a sound. His goal was clear: follow it back to its hideout.


    The goblin moved at a steady pace, seemingly oblivious to Manasei''s presence. Minutes turned into what felt like hours as he tracked the creature through the dense forest.


    Finally, Manasei''s steps halted as he reached the edge of a small cliff. Below him, his target trudged toward a village.


    From his vantage point, he could see dozens of goblins, their green forms like scattered dots moving through the settlement. The village itself was simple, hastily constructed huts and crude defenses, but it thrived with activity.


    Manasei''s jaw tightened as he took in the sight. That must be the settlement¡­ . Now that he had located it, he needed to formulate a plan.


    Manasei crouched on the cliff, his sharp eyes scanning the goblin village below. He couldn''t be certain of their total number, but he counted at least fifty-six goblins moving through the settlement. Whether this was typical of an E-rank objective, he didn''t know, but one thing was clear, he now knew exactly where to avoid.


    Ironically, these demons and beasts aren''t even my biggest threat in this cursed forest, he thought bitterly, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.


    He knew it was only a matter of time before the two assassins caught up with him. The goblins and the forest''s other predators paled in comparison to their cunning and danger.


    ''Before that happens, I need to find food'',


    Hunting beasts was out of the question, he was in no condition to fight the beasts in this forest. That left fruits, plants, or anything remotely edible as his only options.


    With a quiet exhale, Manasei turned away from the cliff, mentally marking the village''s location. He moved in the opposite direction, careful to avoid wandering further into the forest''s depths, where the cursed beasts roamed.

 Magi

    While Manasei scoured the forest for food, back in the goblin village, a tense discussion unfolded inside one of the larger huts.


    Seated at the head of a rectangular wooden table was a tall, lanky goblin draped in a purple cloak. Unlike the others, his aura radiated authority and a faint air of menace. Beside him rested a staff carved from gnarled wood, crowned with a black orb that shimmered faintly in the dim light.


    The goblins gathered around the table were bulkier and more brutish, their rough faces betraying unease as they glanced toward the robed goblin. Their apprehension was palpable, laced with a trace of fear.


    "Oh, great Magi," one of the larger goblins began cautiously, his deep voice measured. "It''s only a matter of time before we have to set out for the ''task.'' Is it wise to waste manpower chasing after a myth?"


    The room erupted in murmurs. Most of the goblins nodded in agreement, their voices overlapping in shared dissent.


    But the robed goblin remained still, his yellow eyes narrowing as he surveyed the room. He let the noise build before finally speaking.


    "Silence."


    The single word cut through the air like a blade. Instantly, the room fell quiet, the brutish goblins shrinking under his piercing gaze.


    "Look at you brutes," the Magi sneered, "Always prattling on about the ''task,'' as if that alone defines your purpose. Tell me, who among the Green Flood Village has become a magi besides me?"


    He paused, letting his words hang in the silence. The goblins exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing.


    "Yes, tasks are important," he continued, his tone softening to an almost eerie calm. "It is the sole reason for our existence. But the method by which we achieve that goal is just as crucial. Without strategy, you''re nothing more than mindless beasts."


    Some of the goblins rubbed their heads in confusion, clearly grappling with his words. A few mimicked a thoughtful pose, resting their thumb and index finger on their chins as though deep in contemplation.


    shaking his head in disappointment. "Fools," he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for them to hear.


    "You brutes don''t need to concern yourselves with the specifics," the purple-robed Magi said, his voice cold and commanding. "Just ensure the outskirts are surveyed thoroughly. I want us to move deeper into the forest before the next ''melody.''"


    The mention of the word made the goblins pale. One of them, emboldened by fear, rose to his feet, mouth opening to protest. But he froze in place, silenced by the icy glare the Magi leveled at him.


    After a tense moment, the Magi sighed,"I know we need numbers to complete the ''task.'' But if we find that place and secure that relic, we will receive aid from none other than Viscount Balsco himself."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    His words caused a ripple of shock among the goblins, who exchanged skeptical glances. One finally broke the silence. "You¡­ are you saying this strange mission was ordered by a Viscount?"


    The hut fell quiet. Most of the goblins here knew the Magi from their shared origins in the same "breeding village." Though goblins were not inclined to independent thought, this one had always been an exception. His cunning and individuality had set him apart, earning him respect and fear. To hear that he had dealings with a Viscount, a demon of vastly superior rank, was shocking.


    The Magi''s thin smile returned as he saw their stunned expressions. "Yes. The Viscount himself gave me this order and promised to lend his personal assistance for the upcoming task. Perhaps, some of you seated at this very table will even rise to become like me, a variant soldier goblin."


    At these words, the beady eyes of the goblins lit up, glinting with greed. The room buzzed with fervor, the earlier resistance melting away.


    "Even if we must venture into the deepest abyss of cursed beasts, this forest will not stop us!" one of the goblins declared, slamming his fist on the table.


    A chorus of agreement erupted from the others.


    The robed Magi observed the shift with a sheepish smile, his narrowed eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Everything was falling into place.


    The robed goblin raised his hand, his long fingers cutting through the excited chatter. "Now that you understand, keep things as they are. Notify me immediately if anything unusual occurs."


    The goblins nodded obediently, rising from their seats and filing out of the hut. The meeting was adjourned.


    ---


    Manasei moved cautiously through the crimson-hued forest, his sharp eyes scanning the terrain for anything edible. The oppressive atmosphere pressed on him, but his focus didn''t waver. He knew this dungeon''s objective could remain active for days, and the last thing he wanted was to face the dangers of this forest while weakened by hunger.


    His stomach growled loudly, a harsh reminder that it had been nearly a full day since his last meal. The physical toll of his ordeal weighed heavily on him. Between the grueling battles and the loss of his arm, his energy reserves were depleted. He felt lightheaded, his body screaming for sustenance. If he didn''t eat soon, exhaustion might claim him before the forest''s many predators did.


    After what felt like an eternity, his eyes landed on something promising. A strange, purple fruit hung from a low branch, its surface dotted with irregular brown spots. It wasn''t much, but it was better than nothing.


    Still keeping his guard up, Manasei carefully plucked the strange fruit from the branch. It resembled a peach, though its deep purple hue and mottled brown spots set it apart.


    He turned it over in his hands, inspecting it closely. Hunger clawed at him, eroding his caution. Before his rational mind could protest, he took a tentative bite.


    The first taste brought no immediate reaction, easing his anxiety. The fruit''s flesh was sour, almost uncomfortably so, biting at his cheeks and tongue. But moments later, a wave of sweetness followed, coaxing him into taking another bite, then another.


    Before long, the fruit was gone. It hadn''t been much, but Manasei felt an unexpected fullness settle over him.


    Wait¡­ this isn''t right. Even if i am starving, I shouldn''t have been so desperate to ea-....


    Before he could finish the thought, a searing pain erupted in his stomach, tearing through his entire body. Manasei doubled over, his knees buckling as he nearly bit his tongue in agony. A strangled growl escaped his throat, his attempts to suppress the scream barely succeeding.


    He keeled forward, spitting violently. Something brown and wet hit the forest floor, glistening with saliva. Manasei''s vision blurred as the thing began to writhe and shift.


    It transformed before his eyes, its grotesque body twisting into a vaguely purple bug with sharp pincers.


    The brown spots¡­!


    The realization hit him like a blow, but it was too late. The poison from the ants flooded his system, sending fire coursing through his veins. His skin turned a sickly purple as bulging veins became stark against his flesh. The pain was overwhelming, threatening to rob him of consciousness.


    Manasei clung desperately to the edges of his awareness, knowing that giving in now could mean his end...

 Unconscious

    The pain was overwhelming, gnawing away at Manasei''s reason bit by bit. His vision blurred, his thoughts fraying as his consciousness teetered on the edge of oblivion.


    ''No!'' he screamed inwardly, biting down hard on his lips, desperate to stay awake. Blood gushed from his gums, the metallic taste filling his mouth, but it was nothing compared to the agony ravaging his insides.


    The poisonous insects seemed to crawl through his body, tearing and clawing at his very essence. It was a torment unlike anything he had ever imagined, a visceral reminder of just how unforgiving dungeons could be.


    How did it come to this? he thought, a tinge of panic breaking through the haze. He had known the dangers of dungeons, but to be brought so low by what seemed like such a trivial mistake shook him to his core. He had been cautious, or so he thought. Yet the fruit''s deceptive charm had torn through his instincts like they were nothing, leaving him at death''s door.


    ''I can''t fall unconscious here. If I do, I''m as good as dead!''


    With sheer willpower, Manasei forced himself upright, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as he stumbled forward. His legs trembled, each step feeling like a monumental task, but he pressed on. He had to find shelter, somewhere secluded where he could recover, even slightly.


    Time blurred as he moved, his surroundings a crimson haze. Every breath was a struggle, his body screaming for rest, but he refused to give in. What felt like an eternity later, his gaze fell on the outline of a small cave carved into the side of a hill.


    His chest heaved as he scanned the area, his instincts urging him to ensure it was safe. With the last vestiges of his strength, Manasei stumbled inside.


    The darkness of the cave embraced him, offering a brief sense of relief before his body finally gave out. He collapsed face-first onto the ground, unconscious.


    A few moments after Manasei collapsed, the cave was illuminated by a faint red glow emanating from his missing arm. The light pulsed and grew, gradually spreading across his entire body as if searching for something hidden within him.


    It found its target, the poisonous ants.


    The insects had embedded themselves deep within Manasei''s body, ravaging his internal organs with their venom. His once-healthy tissue had turned a sickly purple, the poison running rampant and unchecked.


    But as the red light coursed through him, the insects began to react. A high-pitched shriek, almost imperceptible to human ears, filled the cave as the ants sensed the light. They scrambled in panic, their tiny forms darting through his veins, desperate to escape.


    Some tried to pierce through his skin, their sharp mandibles working furiously to create an exit, but it was futile. The light moved surrounding his damaged organs. Wherever it touched, the corrupted tissue began to return to its natural state, the sickly purple fading into healthy hues.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The ants swarmed chaotically, but the light pressed on, unrelenting. It surged over them, engulfing their forms in its radiance. One by one, the insects disintegrated, turning into traces of ash that scattered within Manasei''s body.


    The light continued its work, scanning every corner of his being as if ensuring no remnants of the poison or its carriers remained. Finally, satisfied, the crimson glow retreated, flowing back to his missing arm where it had first appeared.


    The cave returned to its dim silence, with Manasei lying motionless on the ground, oblivious to the miracle that had just occurred. He remained unconscious, his breathing steady.


    Manasei found himself in a strange and disorienting place. He wasn''t sure if this was the afterlife, some twisted nightmare, or something else entirely. The darkness around him felt heavy, oppressive, but within it, he could see that man again.


    The old elf.


    The very man who had started everything, whose death had set Manasei on this path of pain and despair.


    Hatred surged in his chest as he gazed upon the elf''s face, but it wasn''t pure. Laced within the burning resentment was a deep, gnawing self-blame. Manasei despised himself as much as he loathed the elf. He could barely stand to acknowledge the na?ve fool he had been¡ªthe boy who had trusted the honeyed words of an old fox.


    Their story had begun a year earlier, at a time when Manasei was desperate and searching for an orphanage to care for the children. He had already decided to leave them. Goneth had been right about that all along.


    Manasei''s life was weighed down by unresolved burdens. As much as he cared for the kids and appreciated how they had saved his life, he knew he couldn''t stay with them forever. His past was a tangle of pain and unfinished business that wouldn''t allow him peace.


    But he couldn''t simply abandon them without a plan. If he was going to leave, it had to be on his terms. He wanted to repay them by placing them somewhere safe, somewhere they would be cared for and protected.


    That was when he first heard of the elf.


    An elf who had reportedly set aside the long-standing feud between their races. A man who believed that children, regardless of their lineage, shouldn''t carry the burdens of their elders.


    The idea seemed preposterous to Manasei. He met the tale with suspicion and skepticism, his instincts screaming that it was too good to be true.


    But desperation pushed him forward.


    From simply observing the orphanage from a distance, Manasei had slowly worked up the courage to meet the man running it, Councilor Zolf.


    At first, his distrust remained strong, but as time went on, the elf''s actions seemed to speak louder than any rumors. Manasei saw firsthand how well the children were cared for. The orphanage was clean and organized, the children well-fed and educated. It was a place of laughter and hope, seemingly free of the bitterness and prejudice that plagued the city outside its gates.


    Manasei began visiting more frequently, often under the pretense of observing how the orphanage operated. He wanted to ensure it was a place where the kids would thrive. Over the months, his skepticism slowly eroded, replaced by cautious trust.


    He even started saving money, determined to ensure the children could be adopted into this sanctuary. Yet, despite his growing faith in the place, Manasei''s sharp instincts never fully dulled. He made it a habit to learn as much as he could about Zolf during his visits. The elf seemed like an enigma, a rare anomaly in a world rife with hatred and division.


    Manasei found himself drawn to Zolf, not out of admiration but out of a need to understand him. How could someone so openly defy the bitter feud between their races? Was it genuine altruism, or something more complex?


    For a time, he believed he had found an answer to his struggles, a solution to his dilemma with the kids.


    But all of that would change.


    The illusion shattered on that fateful day when Manasei tore down the sheepish mask of the man he had come to trust..

 Unconscious 2

    Manasei woke before dawn, long before the sun''s light touched the slums. Today was the day, make or break. The meeting with Zolf had been scheduled early, and he had intentionally chosen this time, ensuring no interruptions or excuses.


    He lay still in the bunk bed he shared with Goneth, staring up at the dim wooden ceiling above him. For a moment, doubt clawed at him, but he quickly shook it off. Carefully, he climbed down from the top bunk without a sound, casting a glance at Goneth, who was still fast asleep.


    Making his way to the small, cramped restroom, Manasei paused to look at himself in the mirror. His reflection greeted him with pale blue eyes that seemed brighter than usual, glimmering with a faint, unfamiliar hope.


    Today is the day I make a life-altering decision.


    Despite the weight of that thought, he felt oddly calm. It was as though this moment had been waiting for him all along, inevitable and unavoidable.


    As he splashed water onto his face, he couldn''t help but feel that this meeting with Zolf was more than just a simple step forward. It was his chance to leave this island, to sever the ties that had kept him anchored here for years.


    Manasei had lived on borrowed time ever since he first stumbled onto this island half-dead. He had always known it in the back of his mind. The siblings, Goneth, Leneth, and Lily, had given him a sense of purpose, a fleeting reprieve from his burdens. But he also knew the truth:


    I''ve been hiding here, shrinking from my problems. Using them as a refuge.


    His face scrunched as he leaned against the sink, gripping its edges. The kids had saved his life, taken him in when no one else would. How could he even think of leaving them?


    But deep down, Manasei understood. That wasn''t the real reason he stayed. The truth was far uglier.


    His past was a burden he could never shake. Its weight was like a mountain pressing down on him, a constant reminder of everything he''d lost, everything he''d failed to do. No amount of laughter or fleeting happiness with the siblings could erase it.


    It haunted him every night, in the sleepless hours where guilt, shame, and powerlessness wrapped around his heart like a vice.


    With one last look at his reflection, Manasei straightened.


    This has to be done.


    And with that, he stepped out into the cool predawn air, ready to face Zolf and the truth that awaited him.


    Manasei wore his usual attire; a black compression shirt under a loose leather jacket, paired with baggy black pants and sturdy boots. Over it all, he draped a dark green cloak with a hood, casting faint shadows over his face. Strapped to his back was his metallic pipe.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    The meeting had been carefully arranged. Zolf had agreed to come to the slums, specifically to section 7, for the final transaction. It was quite a distance, but Manasei insisted. He wanted the elf to meet him on his own turf.


    As Manasei dashed through the quiet early morning streets, his thoughts churned. His encounters with Zolf over the past few months replayed in his mind, one after another. At first glance, the orphanage had seemed perfect. The children were well-fed, happy, and safe. What more could he have asked for?


    Yet something about it felt wrong.


    Manasei couldn''t put his finger on it, but his instincts were on high alert. There was a gnawing sense that something lurked beneath the serene exterior, a shadow he couldn''t quite see but felt pressing against the edges of his consciousness.


    ''I hope I''m just overthinking this''


    This unease was the reason he had insisted Zolf come to the slums. He needed the meeting to be on neutral ground, away from the city life. Deep down, Manasei wanted to believe that this would work out, almost desperately.


    But he knew better than to let his hope blind him. Asking Zolf to the slums had been an act of caution, one he couldn''t afford not to take.


    Time flew by.


    As he neared section 7, the familiar streets of the slums greeted him with their quiet desolation. His boots clattered softly against the uneven cobblestones as he adjusted his cloak.


    Soon enough, I''ll know for sure.


    As Manasei entered section 7, the eerie stillness of the early morning greeted him. The streets were deserted, with not a soul in sight. The silence was thick, broken only by the occasional creak of a shutter or the distant rustling of the wind.


    Manasei had chosen this specific location for the meeting, a dilapidated house on a nearly abandoned street. It was the perfect spot, away from prying eyes, ensuring their discussion would remain undisturbed.


    Stepping into the building, the air was heavy with dust, and the faint scent of mildew lingered. The cracked walls and sagging beams bore witness to years of neglect. He spotted a broken chair and sat, his pipe resting against his back as he waited.


    Minutes passed. The faint rays of the rising sun began to seep through the broken windows, casting long shadows across the floor.


    Finally, a silhouette appeared at the threshold of the house, framed by the morning light.


    The figure was an old elf. His appearance was striking, green, sparse hair atop a face that seemed to belong to a man in his fifties, though his long, pointed ears betrayed his true nature.


    What caught Manasei''s attention most were the elf''s eyes. They were an unsettling shade of red, gleaming like polished amethysts.


    The elf wore a black robe with intricate golden embroidery, and beneath it, a scar peeked out from his collarbone. His gait was measured as he stepped inside, his presence filling the room despite his wiry frame.


    "Good morning, Sir Zolf," Manasei greeted, standing to grab a chair and setting it across from his own.


    The old elf stepped further into the house, his crimson eyes scanning the dim, crumbling interior.


    "I must say, young man," Zolf began, his voice carrying a trace of amusement, "this place feels rather ominous for a meeting meant to bring such joy."


    Manasei chuckled, the sound dry and restrained. "You know my circumstances, sir."


    Zolf sighed softly as he lowered himself onto the chair. "Indeed. So, how are the children?"


    "They''re good," Manasei replied after a moment, his tone measured. "But they could be doing much better."


    He hesitated briefly, his gaze lowering. One of the many reasons he had pushed so hard to find an orphanage for the kids was his own inadequacy. Manasei knew he wasn''t capable of teaching them what they needed to thrive. He didn''t even know what it meant to be a child himself, much less a responsible adult. He believed they deserved more than the fleeting joys of survival in the slums.


    "I see," Zolf said thoughtfully, his voice carrying a weight that made Manasei shift slightly in his chair. "To be honest with you, young man, I couldn''t care less about your money."


    Manasei''s brow furrowed, but he stayed silent, waiting for the elf to elaborate.


    "Don''t misunderstand me," Zolf continued, raising a hand. "Getting funds to support the orphanage is always helpful. But that''s not the reason I accepted your request."


    Manasei''s curiosity deepened. "The kids?" he ventured.


    "Yes," Zolf replied, his voice suddenly firm and impassioned. "No matter who they are, I will always try to save as many as I can!"


    The sudden rise in his tone took Manasei by surprise. He studied the elf closely, his cautious nature urging him to read between the lines.


    "You probably find it strange, don''t you?" Zolf added, his piercing gaze meeting Manasei''s. "An elf like me, helping the dan''yor."


    Manasei gave a small nod, his suspicions bubbling beneath the surface. "You have wealth, authority, and respect in this city, vast connections that few can claim. And yet, you still care for them. Yes, it''s¡­ puzzling."