I couldn't breathe.
The wind had been knocked from my lungs the moment my brother was sent flying—his body crashing through trees like a broken doll.
Brother…
My legs wouldn't move. My mouth refused to scream. I knew I should run, should fight, should protect someone—but I just stared, frozen, as the massive orc general stomped closer.
His body was wrapped in black iron, a behemoth made of muscle and rage. The heat of burning homes, the scent of blood in the air, and the dying screams of my people all blurred into one thundering, heart-breaking noise.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to disappear.
He raised his blade.
I closed my eyes.
But then—
Something—no, someone—spun through the smoke and flame like a dancer of death. Her blade cut through the air like a whisper, then roared quietly as it split the orc general in half, his armored body folding in on itself before he even realized he was dead.
I opened my eyes to a woman.
A strange, masked woman, her thin frame silhouetted against the firelight like a spirit. Her sword still dripped with blood, but her presence... it wasn't frightening.
She turned to me.
Kneeling, she reached out a gloved hand and gently patted my head.
I flinched at first—but her touch was warm. Soft. Careful.
"Don't worry," she said. Her voice was like the wind at dusk—quiet, but full of something stronger.
"You're safe now."
She smiled behind the mask—I couldn't see it, but I could feel it.
In that moment, she felt like a big sister I never had. One that would protect me from the world, no matter how dark it became.
But then… someone else arrived.
Heavy footsteps. A presence that weighed on the air.
I looked up.
He was tall. Slender. An invisible pressure flowed behind him like a cape that belonged to a noble, and yet the magic that clung to him was suffocating.
His eyes were calm, unreadable, as he glanced toward us and offered the masked woman a small bottle of glowing liquid.
I didn't know who he was.
But I felt it.
The same feeling I had weeks ago—when I told my brother that I saw something watching from the forest. A giant wolf, hiding behind the trees. I thought I was imagining it, but now… that same aura pressed against my skin. Powerful. Terrifying.
But what shocked me most wasn't the magic or the authority he carried.
It was how sad he looked.
He didn't wear it on his face, but in the silence he carried. In how he didn't even glance at us again. In how even when standing beside others, he still felt miles apart.
He was surrounded by people, but he was alone.
Before I could understand why, movement behind him caught my eye.
Another man, short and round with a mask that held manic eyes and a grotesque grin, stepped out of the trees.
My breath caught in my throat.
That man—he was the one who led the orcs. The one we saw just before the attack. The Majin.
I tried to speak. To warn him.
"Wait! That man—he's—!"
But the tall one… he just turned slightly, catching my eyes.
And then—he smiled.
It wasn't mocking.
It wasn't cruel.
It was a small, tired curve of his lips, like someone saying:
"How cute of you to worry about me."
And then he turned away, walking calmly into the fire.
-
She really is precious... to worry about a stranger she just met.
Even when she's the one bleeding.
A quiet chuckle left my lips as I glanced down at the girl—Shuna, I'll call her. Her eyes were glassy, swollen with tears, yet she still looked at me with something that wasn't fear or awe.
It was pity.
Like she could see the chains I wore beneath my skin.
"Tch."
The fire behind us cracked—and from its depths, came laughter.
"HYAHAHAHA! What a delicious little mess!"
A short, rotund clown emerged from the wall of fire, skipping over corpses like he was playing hopscotch. His eyes glowed behind his mask, and his jagged teeth sparkled with glee.
Footman.
A clown with no punchline—only corpses.
I instinctively stepped forward, but Shizu moved first, sword already halfway out of its sheath.
"No."
My arm shot out, barring her path.
She glanced at me, eyebrows drawn, but I simply shook my head.
"Get the siblings out. Save who you can."
I didn't look at her. My gaze was locked on the monster that danced toward us through the blood-soaked dirt.
Shizu hesitated—her silence screaming with complaints—but finally turned on her heel and rushed toward the future Benimaru and Shuna.
Only once she was gone did I allow the smile to return to my lips.
Footman spun in place, facing something in the empty air behind him. A communicator, maybe. Or a toy.
"Now this is something special! Hohoho! A tiefling in the flesh! What a rare treat~!"
I walked toward him without fear, brushing dust from my shoulders like I was preparing for a business meeting.
"I know, right?" I replied dryly. "A real oddity. But even rarer… seeing a member of the Moderate Harlequin Alliance running errands in a backwater forest."
His laughter stopped. Just like that.
The smile remained—but the joy vanished behind it, as if someone had snapped off the fun switch.
"Oho~? That's a name you shouldn't know."
"Then pretend I didn't say it. Or mind your own business."
I vanished from sight and reappeared above him, heel crashing down toward his skull.
Footman caught my leg with one stubby hand. Effortlessly.
"Ah, ah, ah! Someone's cranky," he grinned, pushing me back with strength that belied his size.
I flipped mid-air, landed, and immediately lashed out with black flame spears—but Footman danced between them like a child skipping puddles.
"Oh this is fun! It's so fun!" he giggled, clapping. "You're angry, aren't you? Who hurt you, little one? Mommy? Daddy?"
I said nothing.
Instead, I formed a magic circle beneath him, summoning tendrils of molten shadow to seize his limbs.
But he twisted through them, flipping upside-down and landing on one finger like a circus acrobat. "You don't like jokes. Shame! I thought you'd have a sense of humor—"
"You invaded a home. You burned their lives. You butchered children."
"Details, details!"
I charged again, this time aiming straight for his mask with a flame-coated punch—but he dodged last-second, letting it graze the side of his cheek. For a moment, the grin slipped.
"Oh man Oh man… you've got some bite, cub," he muttered, brushing a sizzling edge of his mask.
"I thought I was in a tiger's den, but maybe not. Maybe this is still just a nursery."
Footman straightened his clothes with exaggerated flair. "No fun killing cubs. Not until they grow some fangs."
He skipped backwards into the flames once more, the fire swallowing his form.
"But don't worry," he sang. "I'll be watching. Till Next time! Hohoho!"
And just like that—he was gone.
I stood in the ashes, breath steady, heart colder than ice.
He was just toying with me the entire fight
"Tch…"
And it left a bad taste in my mouth.