<Chapter 8>
‘Strange fellow.’
She had been watching the suspicious behavior of the man captured by the slave traders with keen attention, but when the elf girl suddenly clung to him and shed tears, her doubts dissipated.
Elves, born with an affinity for nature’s energy, instinctively sense the good and evil in humans. An elf harboring deep distrust toward humans wouldn’t be moved to grasp someone’s hand after just a few words.
It was because she had seen genuine kindness in him. This could serve as proof that the white-haired boy’s intention to help everyone escape was sincere.
As she untied the ropes from a young woman, Her Helian glanced at Kar, who was leaning against the wall. Ren was an unusual person, but Kar was no less so.
‘There’s definitely something off about him.’
Just the fact that he hadn’t cried once, hadn’t spoken a word, and had only sought sleep since arriving here marked him as no ordinary child. His eerie aura and ingrained etiquette clearly indicated he was from a noble family.
‘But I have no memory of seeing him at any balls, and I’ve never heard rumors of a heir with such an appearance.’
Having completed her debutante, Her Helian possessed an extensive network spanning high and low society, and with frequent meetings among her peers, she was intimately familiar with all the gossip of noble circles. Though she had her doubts, upon observing Kar’s gait, Her Helian became certain. He couldn’t not be nobility. It was a stride steeped in rigorously trained etiquette.
‘With an appearance like that, even as a child, he couldn’t possibly remain unknown. A heir from a family not known in society… could it be…!’
Her Helian’s pupils dilated widely. A heir from a family unknown in society. At present, there was only one such person.
‘The veiled heir of the Mercantia Ducal House couldn’t possibly have been kidnapped to a place like this. But…’
The boy was unmistakably noble, and his striking features, even as a child, would surely have sparked rumors. Moreover, his otherworldly atmosphere was fitting enough for the Mercantia heir, plunging Her Helian into confusion.
‘The most credible rumor circulating is that he’s currently unwell. Even if that child is the Mercantia heir, why would he be in a place like this…’
“Um…”
Her swirling speculations were interrupted by the young woman’s voice. Snapping back to reality, Her Helian resumed untying the ropes with swift movements.
“Is there… anything I can help with?”
At the cautious question, Her Helian’s gaze shifted to the young woman. It was the curly-haired woman who had been reduced to exhaustion, endlessly shedding tears.
The face of the woman, who had been unable to swallow food and had been consumed by despair, now held a subtle spark of determination. A gentle smile soon graced Her Helian’s lips, which had been momentarily speechless.
“Could I ask you to keep an eye on those two young girls over there to make sure they don’t wander off?”
“Yes, I’ll do my best!”
The curly-haired woman dashed over as soon as her wrist ropes were freed. It was undoubtedly Ren’s influence that had pulled her from despair toward hope.
Before Ren arrived, the warehouse interior had sunk deep into the resignation of those who had given up on reality. Even that fragile thread of hope—that perhaps someone might discover them—had been let go as the brutal reality drew nearer.
It was then that Ren appeared, and at the word “escape,” they nodded with a mindset of at least putting up a struggle. The boy’s oddly overflowing confidence drew the gazes of the weary people.
Though Ren wore a hurt expression at Kar’s cold reception, the atmosphere in the warehouse seemed to lighten a bit instead. When he approached Naias and spoke about elves, everyone snapped out of their reveries and listened intently.
In the end, it led to this woman grasping that slender thread of hope and taking action. To those trapped in pitch-black darkness, Ren might have been their last hope.
It even felt as if small buds of hope sprouted with every step he took. His directive to create an escape opportunity had been utterly reckless, yet somehow, it instilled a belief that a chance would arise.
‘And perhaps… for me as well…’
As she touched the back of her hand where Ren had held it, a tremendous roar accompanied by a powerful shock rocked the building.
* * *
The form of the Fire Arrows rising into the air cast a chilling silence over the audience seats. One spectator, staring blankly at the flickering flames, let out a piercing scream. With that scream as the trigger, the area below the stage erupted into chaos in an instant.
“Run!”
“Aaaah!”
Whoosh. The flaming arrows sliced through the air and embedded in the center of the audience, exploding on impact. No sooner had the screams erupted than flames surged up one after another.
“Fire Ball!”
“Kyaaah!”
“Fire Arrow!”
“Aaah! The door—head for the back door!”
Laren unleashed spells throughout the auction hall like a fish in water. Having fretted over whether the ducal residence might explode while creating only minuscule spells the size of mouse droppings, now slamming them in with abandon felt like releasing unknowingly accumulated stress. Cursed, and now slave traders on top of it. Gritting his teeth, flames roared up from Laren’s hands.
“Fire Ball!”
Those grazed by the flames collapsed with burns or wailed in agony. The surrounding mercenaries, facing a barrage of magic for the first time in their lives, were at a loss.
“M-Magic!”
“Flames of the Inferno, Finger Fire!”
Spherical flames erupted from Laren’s fingers and shot into the air.
“The exit!”
“This way!”
Spotting the entrance shattered by the magic’s aftermath, the spectators began to flee. Many mercenaries joined them in the escape. Amid the auction hall turning to rags, the merchant, hiding behind his guards, shrieked in fury.
“Damn it, what are you all doing! Stop dawdling and attack en masse!”
“But…”
Easy to say, but the boy before them summoned magic in mere seconds. Laren glanced at the merchant, smirking as he drew up his mana.
“Hey, who would risk their life for a bastard like you?”
“You wretched scum! Seize that brat right now!”
The command to seize him was pitifully ignored. Low-circle magic—referring to the basic stages of mana manipulation—didn’t even require incantations, and regrettably, there wasn’t a single mercenary bold enough to hurl himself at the flickering flames.
Loyal subordinates might have been different, but mere mercenaries hired for coin had no reason to risk their lives charging in. As they hesitated, several Fire Arrows materialized above Laren’s head.
“Alright, I’ll give you five seconds to run. After that, if you try to stop me, prepare to meet your end—boom!”
“Aaaah!”
Laren smirked impishly, mimicking the explosion sound with his own mouth. The wavering arrows of flame seemed a far greater threat than the merchant’s furious orders, as most of the mercenaries scrambled away in a frenzy. At their pathetic retreating figures, Laren let out a shallow breath. Good—it could have been quite dangerous if they’d rushed him in close combat.
“You—you cowards!”
“Hold on, I can’t just let you two go quietly.”
Laren turned his head, his eyes gleaming fiercely. The merchant and the emcee, cowering behind the guards, shrank back and retreated. As Laren advanced toward them, a massive movement suddenly erupted behind him.
“Grrrr…”
“What the—!”
Gasping in shock, Laren dove to the left and rolled. The spot where he’d been standing was now deeply cratered. As another enormous fist swung in, Laren quickly rolled to the opposite side. His blue eyes widened in horror as he identified the shadow’s form.
“How is a troll in a place like this?!”
“Muhahaha, you’re as good as dead now! Tree, kill that brat!”
‘T-Tree? It even has a name? Is that monster a pet?!’
At the merchant’s triumphant voice, the troll’s eyes flashed. The creature, sparsely covered in fur, towered at least two meters tall. Its sharply protruding teeth and blackened claws meant that a single stab would send a mage like Laren straight to the afterlife express.
‘I’m screwed. And it’s so ugly, I don’t even want to attack it!’
The troll’s gaze locked onto Laren, a guttural growl escaping through its gritted teeth. Drool slobbered from its open maw. A chill unlike anything before sent cold sweat trickling down Laren’s back. How could such a monstrous beast be in a mere slave trading building?
‘At this rate, forget the curse—I’ll end up dead first! Aaaah!’
Dodging the incoming fist, Laren muttered an incantation. The mana drain was immense; he had to finish it in one go. As he spun around evasively, the enraged Tree—no, the troll—went berserk, flailing its arms wildly.
“Ack!”
He dodged the right hand but missed the left. Struck by the back of the troll’s hand, Laren flew into the wall behind the stage with a crash.
“Urgh. You ugly bastard!”
“What’s ugly about our Tree?!”
In a rage, Laren screamed along with his cry of pain, and the merchant, incensed at the insult to his pet monster, shot back. The agony drew curses from him unbidden.
“He takes after his owner. Shut up! This hurts like hell.”
The bone-rattling impact trembling through his body was a first in his life. His vision blurred from the skull-shaking blow, but he couldn’t afford to pass out. If he did, he’d truly be saying goodbye to the world—so Laren clenched his teeth and completed the incantation.
“…By the power of Ignis, I summon thee—Explosion!”
Boom-boom-boom—a series of massive blasts erupted, enveloping the troll’s body in flames.
“Kieeeek!”
The troll’s agonized screech echoed across the stage. It thrashed violently in resistance, but the flames only whipped higher above it, and soon its charred body collapsed to the ground. Psss—a hazy smoke rose from the troll’s corpse.
“Whoa… I really almost died there. Urk…”
The saying that leaving home brings hardship fit this situation perfectly. Clutching his quivering shoulders, Laren spat out the blood pooling in his mouth. Fortunately, no bones seemed broken, as moving his body posed no issue. It was lucky he’d been hit by the back of the hand; a graze from those claws would have left him gravely wounded.
“Where’d they go?”
Wiping the sweat from his forehead as he stood, the merchant and emcee were nowhere in sight. Turning his gaze, he spotted their frantic backs fleeing through a collapsed doorway. He’d planned to fire off at least a few spells at them. He wanted to pursue, but the unexpected troll had delayed him far too much.
‘The building…’
Laren looked up at the empty auction hall’s ceiling. Summoning large-scale magic had made the structure feel a bit shaky. He wished he’d used holy power, which had less destructive impact, but it was a belated regret.
In the midst of dodging the troll, there hadn’t been time to choose spells carefully. His lack of real combat experience was glaringly evident. As Laren turned to join the escaping group, white hair cascaded over his waist.
“…N-no way?”
A foreboding sense made Laren grope at his body. Beneath his clothes, the contours felt drastically different from moments ago.
“Have I already used that much mana?”
His face turned desolate as he clutched his head. Well, he’d gotten carried away and flung spells around with too much enthusiasm. The mana consumption must have been greater than expected, reverting him to his original form.
‘I can’t join them looking like this.’
Snap. Surprise—turns out I was a girl all along! Gotcha? Shaking off the absurd fantasy, Laren scanned around and spotted a cloth behind the stage.
‘That’s it!’
He dashed over and wrapped himself tightly in the fabric, leaving only his eyes exposed. If it weren’t white, he’d look suspiciously like a thief with no excuse. Laren patted the ample cloth enveloping his entire body with satisfaction.
“This should do, right?”
The change in build wasn’t something people would notice amid the chaos of escape. Unable to delay any longer, Laren sprinted in the opposite direction of the corridor he’d come from.
“Fire Ball!”
“Graaah!”
A mercenary struck by the fireball at point-blank range tumbled across the hall. He was using the lowest-circle spells possible, but the breathlessness was unavoidable. As Laren entered after dealing with the mercenary outside the waiting room, the people erupted in cheers mixed with gasps.
“Huff, huff. Just how far do I have to run before we reach the entrance?!”
