...
{3rd POV}
Larfal slumped back on his throne, exhaustion visible on his face as he listened to the informant's report.
It had been several long months since he began searching for his missing son, and still, there was not a single clue about his whereabouts.
No trace, no sign—nothing. It was as if his son had completely vanished from the face of the world.
He had spared no effort in the search.
Even the most skilled Elves from the Magic Kingdom of Altina had been sent out to scour every corner of their territory.
He had dispatched teams to the neighboring kingdoms, reached out to the Empire, and even managed to convince the reclusive Solingen and the notoriously prideful dwarves—who normally wanted nothing to do with elves—to help in the search.
His envoys had crossed continents, traveling from kingdom to kingdom, from the western plains to the northern ice fields, and from the southern deserts to the far eastern islands.
He had even appealed to the divine—requesting the Goddess Amaterasu herself to conduct a search within her own sacred lands.
Using every ounce of his influence, power, and authority, Larfal had practically turned the entire world upside down in his desperate quest to find his son.
Even the Elves residing in Orario had been mobilized to search within the Dungeon City and the coastal town of Melen, but despite all the effort, the result was always the same—nothing.
Not a single lead.
It was only on the rarest occasions that the prestigious Alf family exercised their true authority beyond their own kingdom's borders.
This was one of those rare times, and it had only served to remind the world of the power and status the Alf family held.
Yet, despite mobilizing all that might, Larfal could feel nothing but defeat.
All his power, all his connections—none of it had brought him even an inch closer to his missing son.
He dismissed the informant with a weary wave of his hand and let out a deep sigh of frustration.
"Fufu, already admitting defeat?"
The teasing, melodic voice came from behind him, and he turned his head with a frown to see his wife, Ada, smiling mischievously.
"Ada, this isn't a joke," he said, clearly irritated.
"Tell me where he went. You must know something. The outside world is dangerous, and he could be in serious trouble!" His tone carried a rare note of desperation.
Ada, however, didn't seem the least bit concerned.
She merely tilted her head slightly, her smile growing wider.
"Ara~ my, you're really worked up, huh?" she chuckled softly, clearly enjoying his reaction.
Larfal's expression darkened, veins starting to bulge on his temple.
"ADDAA!" he roared, his voice echoing through the grand hall.
Ada simply burst into laughter.
"LARFALLL—Pfft—!" She tried to suppress it but failed miserably, giggling uncontrollably.
Larfal inhaled deeply, trying to calm his anger.
"Fine, fine!" he said, finally relenting.
"I admit my defeat. I shouldn't have been so strict. I promise I'll repent for my mistakes and make things right—but this concerns our son's safety, Ada! So, please… tell me where he is!" His tone softened at the end, genuine worry replacing frustration.
Ada's laughter subsided as she looked into his eyes.
Her expression became serious for a brief moment.
They stared at each other silently before she finally spoke.
"It seems you've finally realized it, huh?" she said, shaking her head slightly.
"Jeez, you've always been an idiot, but to think you'd neglect our children even as a father… unbelievable."
Larfal's shoulders slumped slightly, guilt flashing across his face.
"Then tell me," he said. "Where is he?"
Ada shrugged.
"The thing is… I don't know."
Larfal blinked, confused.
"What do you mean you don't know?!" he asked, his voice rising again.
"Exactly what I said," Ada replied bluntly.
"The entire plan was his idea from the start. We only helped refine a few details and gave him some suggestions. As for where he decided to go after running away, that's something even I don't know. Honestly, you've already searched all the places we discussed with him, and every location I could possibly think of."
Then she crossed her arms and nodded proudly.
"Now that I think about it, that boy was really smart. He must have inherited his intelligence from me!" she said, puffing out her chest with pride.
Larfal just stared at her, completely dumbfounded.
Then, without warning, his world spun.
The throne room blurred, and before he could even process what happened, everything went black.
The combined stress, exhaustion, and his wife's ridiculous comment had finally taken their toll.
(A/N: EMOTIONAL DAMAGE!)
Ada blinked in surprise, watching her husband slump to the side of his throne, unconscious.
"Oh dear…" she said with a small sigh before calling out lazily, "Guards! The King is unconscious!"
Despite her words, there was not much concern in her tone.
Within moments, the guards rushed into the room and hurriedly carried their unconscious king to his bedchamber.
Ada, meanwhile, simply watched them leave, her lips curling into an amused smirk.
"Honestly," she muttered to herself, shaking her head.
"He really needs to learn how to handle stress better from me."
If Larfal woke up and heard this comment, he would return to being unconscious again.
...
{Ember POV}
I released the bowstring, and the arrow shot forward with a sharp whoosh, slicing through the air before burying itself deep into the man's leg.
"Aghhh!!!" he screamed in agony, the sound echoing through the forest and alerting the rest of his group.
Without wasting a second, I swiftly nocked three more arrows, pulled the string back, and aimed carefully before releasing them one after another.
The arrows whizzed through the air in rapid succession, each finding its target with precision.
They struck different men, embedding into their shoulders and thighs, causing them to cry out in pain before collapsing to the ground.
"Who the hell is it?!" the leader of the bandits roared, clutching his sword.
"You damn coward! If you're a man, come out and face us head-on!" His voice was filled with rage and fear, though the trembling in his tone betrayed his bravado.
I didn't bother replying—instead, I calmly drew another arrow, aimed, and let it fly.
The projectile struck his elbow with a sickening thud, and he screamed, dropping his weapon and clutching his arm as blood trickled down.
The moment their leader went down, the rest of the bandits panicked.
Their confidence shattered instantly, and they started running in different directions, abandoning their fallen comrades.
But I wasn't planning on letting any of them escape.
I moved quickly, drawing and firing with practiced precision.
Each arrow whistled through the air, cutting through the faint wind before striking its mark.
One by one, the fleeing bandits were hit—some in the legs, others in the back—until every last one of them had fallen.
The forest soon went silent again, save for the faint groans of the wounded and the rustling of leaves in the breeze.
Once I was sure there were no survivors attempting to ambush me, I jumped down from the tree branch I had been perched on.
My boots landed softly on the forest floor as I adjusted my grip on the bow.
A trembling voice reached my ears.
"P-Please! I-I did what you said, so let me go! I beg you!" It was the bandit who had been acting as my temporary informant.
He was a beastkin—wolf ears and tail twitching in fear, his body shaking as he looked at the corpses of his fallen comrades.
I turned my gaze toward him, my expression cold and unreadable.
"Not yet," I said flatly, my tone carrying no trace of emotion.
"Show me all the bad deeds you've committed."
The color drained from his face almost instantly.
His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the dirt, realizing that his crimes were about to catch up to him.
His mouth opened as if to speak, but no words came out—only shallow, trembling breaths.
I exhaled slowly, a faint sense of irritation bubbling up.
My eyes narrowed as I scanned the area around us.
Dozens of bodies lay sprawled across the ground, arrows protruding from their limbs and torsos.
The faint smell of blood mixed with the earthy scent of the forest.
A sigh escaped my lips as I rubbed the bridge of my nose.
'Just how the hell did I end up in this mess?', I thought to myself, shaking my head slightly.
One thing was certain—this wasn't how I had planned to spend my day.
...
Flashback
My horse thundered along the path beneath me.
I urged it to go faster when a faint sense of danger prickled at the back of my neck.
I yanked the reins hard; the horse stumbled from the sudden change of momentum and threw me forward.
I hit the ground and felt a bone crack—just a sharp sting—but I ignored it.
I scrambled to the nearest cover and pressed myself behind a large rock, inhaling slowly to steady my breath.
"Quick! Get out! Hand over all the money!" a harsh voice barked nearby.
Irritation flared through me at the tone, but I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword and peered over the rock.
There were four of them—armored, armed with swords—and I spotted the archer standing farther back in the open.
There he was.
I took another breath, then burst from cover and charged.
They were ready, but when my blade met the first man's, I felt something unexpected as my sword sliced clean through his guard and into his chest.
"Ughhh!" he choked—non-adventurers.
That explained it.
With quick, controlled strikes I dispatched the rest of them, cutting through their sloppy defenses before they could properly react.
The archer's face went white with fear.
"Stay there!" he shouted, panicked, fumbling as he nocked an arrow.
His aim wasn't bad; his first shot came straight and fast.
I deflected it with the flat of my blade. He tried two at once next—his hands shaking as he loosed them—but I parried them both without breaking stride.
I didn't want to prolong it.
I closed the distance in a single dash and, before he could string another arrow, swung and severed his arm.
"Aghhhhhh!!" he screamed, blood gushing from the stump.
My sword hovered at his throat.
"Don't move. If you do, this time it won't be your hand that's down there," I said, my voice low and threatening. He froze, biting back a howl of pain.
"Tell me why you ambushed me," I ordered.
He ground his teeth.
"W-We—ugh! We're bandits. We meant to loot you," he stammered. I narrowed my eyes at him, then glanced at his still-bleeding limb and said, "Bandage that arm, now."
Relief washed over his face as he hurried to tie a strip of cloth around it.
I wasn't trying to keep him conscious out of mercy—I wanted answers and didn't want him to pass out until I had them.
"Good. Now answer my questions honestly, or you'll be the one without a head," I said.
I had no real intention of killing him.
Disabling the group would be enough; I hadn't killed any of the others.
Still, after being set upon, I wouldn't feel bad if some of them didn't wake up.
I'd never taken a sentient life in either this life or the last unless absolutely necessary.
I'd try to keep my hands clean unless my life was on the line—or someone pushed me past the point of no return.
The bandit spilled everything after that.
He admitted they were part of a twenty-seven man group heading for the Kaios Desert, a chaotic place perfect for banditry and murder.
They'd set up a temporary base nearby because, according to their intel, the only familias in the area stayed around the town or moved in groups while in the village—easy prey for them.
I told him to lead me to their hideout.
I didn't want to leave a potential threat behind, so I decided to get them arrested properly.
I bound the unconscious bandits and secured him, then brought my horse back and tied it to a tree.
My bow and arrows—thankfully undamaged—were within reach.
"You're an archer?" he asked, incredulous after seeing my swordplay.
He couldn't figure me out. I didn't bother answering.
"Lead the way—and be quiet. If you scream for help, I'll roll your head down that hill."
He swallowed hard, nodded, and led me through the brush.
The hideout turned out to be on a small rise topped with dense trees—perfect for a long-range ambush.
I prepared accordingly. Engaging them at close quarters would be risky, especially given that this man was only one of their three pitiful archers.
I moved into position, took careful aim, and quietly took out the other two archers before the melee even began.
...
I moved deeper into the cave, the dim torchlight flickering against the rough stone walls, and that's when I spotted the prison carriages.
The sight hit me like a punch to the gut, nearly making me puke right there on the spot.
Inside those filthy cages, there were numerous beast kin chained up and completely naked, their bodies covered in ugly bruises and cuts from head to toe.
Most of them were females—around nine in total—and there were only two other beast kin who were male adults.
It was obvious from the way the females looked, with their legs spread unnaturally and dried blood and fluids staining their thighs, that they had been raped repeatedly.
The beast kin as a whole had been treated like absolute garbage, beaten and starved to keep them submissive.
But what really turned my blood to ice was the sight of those two children.
They were just nine- or ten-year-olds, both boys, huddled in the corner of one cage, their small bodies in the absolute worst shape imaginable.
Their skin was a mess of welts and deep gashes, and they looked half-dead, barely breathing.
One had a black eye swollen shut, and the other had what looked like burn marks on his arms from some kind of hot iron.
'Fucking scum,' I thought, rage boiling up inside me like hot tar, making my hands shake with the need to kill.
Suddenly, one of the bandits noticed me.
He dropped to his knees in the dirt, his face pale and sweaty, and started babbling, "Please spare my life! I didn't do this! They did it!"
He stared up at me with wide, begging eyes, like a rat cornered by a cat.
I kept my face completely emotionless, not giving him an inch, and said, "I will let you go, if you tell me the entire story."
Hope flashed in his eyes immediately, like he'd just been thrown a lifeline.
He didn't waste a second, blurting out everything in a rush, his words tumbling over each other.
Apparently, the bandits had just sold off the prime slaves they'd caught in a recent raid, the ones who could fetch a good price at the markets.
These leftovers were the failed merchandise—the ones too weak, too injured, or too defiant to sell.
Instead of dumping them, the bandits decided to haul them along for their own twisted pleasure during the journey.
The females had been passed around like toys, raped over and over by the whole group, used in every way imaginable to satisfy their sick urges.
The male beast kin were forced into hard labor, hauling supplies and digging shallow graves for the ones who didn't survive the abuse.
And as for the two children... my fists clenched so tight my knuckles turned white as the bandit spilled the details.
He'd pointed out one of the female bandits earlier, calling her a pedophile who'd taken a special interest in the boys.
She'd dragged them off into the shadows multiple times, doing unspeakable things to their young bodies while the others laughed and took turns watching.
I turned my glare to the unconscious female bandit slumped against the cave wall in front of me, her clothes disheveled and stained with the evidence of her crimes.
Without a second's hesitation, I stomped down hard on her belly with my boot, putting all my weight into it.
"Aghhhhh!!!" she screamed, the sound echoing off the cave walls like a dying animal's wail.
Her cry woke up a few of the other beast kin slaves, their eyes fluttering open in confusion and fear, but they were still tied up tight with heavy chains, unable to do anything but watch.
"So you are the one who raped them, huh?" I asked, my voice flat and cold as I stared down at her.
She looked up at me with pure terror in her eyes, clutching at her midsection.
Suddenly, she puked up a spray of blood, splattering the ground, and her face twisted in horror as she glanced down.
Her belly was sunken in unnaturally, like something vital had ruptured inside, and a foul, rotten smell started wafting up from the mess.
Ignoring the stench, I kept my eyes locked on hers.
The begging bandit had shouted it out earlier: "It was her! She is a pedophile and the one who raped those boys!"
Now, this female bandit was staring at me with desperate, pleading eyes, tears mixing with the blood on her chin.
"Pl-Please spare me! I know what I did was wrong! I am willing to be your slave, your co—" I didn't let her finish that garbage.
With a swift swing of my sword, I sliced her head clean off her shoulders.
Her body twitched for a moment, blood spurting from the neck stump, before slumping lifeless to the ground.
The headless corpse stared blankly at the ceiling, or what was left of it.
The other bandits trembled in fear, their weapons forgotten as they backed away, muttering curses under their breath.
I didn't give them a chance to recover.
Without any hesitation, I started killing them ruthlessly, one by one.
My sword flashed through the air, cutting down the first one across the chest, his ribs cracking open like dry wood.
The second tried to run, but I grabbed his arm, twisted it until it snapped, then drove the blade through his throat.
Blood sprayed everywhere, warm and sticky on my skin, but I didn't stop.
What did I feel when I took their lives?
Definitely not guilt—not even a flicker.
Just a deep, hollow sadness that I had to lower myself to something like this, wading through their filth to end it.
One by one, they fell, their screams mixing with the groans of the wounded slaves, until the cave floor was slick with gore and littered with bodies.
The last bandit, the one who'd begged and spilled the story, watched it all with wide eyes, his face drained of color.
"T-They all are dead now," he stammered, glancing around at the carnage.
"You can kill those as well... n-now I should leave, right? You promised me, right?" I changed my expression then, forcing a smile that didn't reach my eyes.
"Yes!", I said cheerfully, watching hope bloom in his pathetic gaze.
He turned to scramble away, relief washing over him, but I thrust my sword straight through his back and into his heart in one smooth motion.
He coughed up blood, a wet gurgle escaping his lips, and spun around to look at me, his eyes bulging with horror and betrayal.
"W-Why?" he gasped, clutching at the blade protruding from his chest.
I snickered at the question, low and mocking, without bothering to explain.
Why waste words on trash like him?
I yanked the sword back out, watching him collapse in a heap, twitching until he went still.
I stood there for a moment, surveying the place filled with corpses, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the lingering rot from the stomped bandit's guts.
Shaking off the splatter on my blade, I turned back and headed to where I'd tied up the remaining bandits earlier, the ones I'd subdued before entering the main area.
They were still there, struggling against their bonds, eyes wild with panic as I approached.
I finished them off methodically—no mercy, no last words.
A quick slash here, a stab there, until they were all just more bodies joining the pile.
Once that was done, I took a deep breath, the cave's damp chill settling into my bones, and looked at the unconscious slaves still chained in their carriages.
Some were stirring now, murmuring weakly, their eyes darting to me with a mix of fear and faint hope.
'So how do I handle this?' I thought, sinking down onto a nearby rock, the weight of it all pressing on me.
For a moment, the world seemed as cruel and unforgiving as any dungeon, full of shadows and suffering that never quite ended.
To be continued...
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