Charlotta stepped out of the space we were in, and without thinking, I began to follow her. Right now, she’s my little guide in this strange place. After all, if anyone knows where the exit is, it must be her… right?
Right?
“Hey… do you know how we’re getting out of here?” I asked, not holding much hope. “I know there’s no obvious exit, but your master must’ve given you some kind of spell to break the temporal barrier around us… or at least a magic word to teleport us out, right?”
Charlotta shook her head, the movement barely noticeable. I fell silent—not so much because of her answer, but because of how absurdly terrible my master’s preparations had been.
Wait… are you telling me he locked her in a time prison without leaving a single clue on how to escape?
If he were here right now, I’d punch him. No, scratch that. In all my years of training, I’d only managed to land a hit once. And that was pure luck. Even now, if I tried, I doubt I’d get more than three strikes in before he’d slam me into the ground.
“Your master said you could figure this out on your own,” Charlotta said, stopping in front of a smooth stone wall and studying it intently.
“Figure it out,” huh? Come on, Jay. Think.
I positioned myself directly in front of the wall, inspecting it. Nothing stood out. I tried to remember if my master had ever mentioned anything that could help… but drew a blank.
Damn it, what am I supposed to do? If he said I could solve this alone, there’s gotta be something I can use, right?
No choice. I’ll try the first thing that comes to mind… and pray it works, because I’m running low on mana.
I pressed my hands against the stone and let my energy flow. The surface warmed beneath my fingertips.
Come on, come on… work.
The wall began to melt. Progress. But my mana was draining fast.
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Nice. Once we’re out of here, I deserve a feast fit for a king.
My arm dropped to my side. Exhausted, but I’d done it. Ahead of us now stretched a tunnel we could follow to the outside.
“This’ll do. Fill your body with cold before entering—it’s still burning,” Charlotta instructed.
“Pretty impressive. But… are you okay?” she asked, gripping my arm.
Oh, so she noticed. My wobbling legs had probably given me away.
“Just need a little rest. It’s nothing,” I said, smiling as if I actually believed my own words.
Lie. What I really need is to sleep so hard I’ll hopefully wake up in two days.
But fine. That could wait. First, let’s get out of this cursed cave.
The path I’d opened to escape the cave wasn’t particularly long. In fact, calling it a “tunnel” might be stretching it. I’d expected it to take longer to reach the surface, especially since not even the faintest whisper of wind had reached us down there.
Charlotta stepped out after me. The first thing I noticed was that the landscape seemed to stretch into a vast plain—though, to be honest, I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
I didn’t pay much attention to the surroundings. Instead, my eyes locked onto Charlotta. She’d gone still, silently watching the sunrise.
The sunlight brushed her face gently, and the wind tousled her hair.
Yeah… she must’ve missed all this.
Not that I didn’t, too.
For a moment, we shared the same quiet feeling. The warmth of the breeze, the golden glow of the sun… sensations that felt all the more precious after being trapped in that place.
And then I saw it.
Tears began rolling slowly down her face.
I walked over.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, stopping directly in front of her.
“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing. I just… remembered my parents,” she said, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “They’re probably long gone by now, but… I wish I could’ve said goodbye.”
“…”
I didn’t speak. I just acted.
Before overthinking it, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what little comfort I could. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she clung to me and let her tears flow.
I don’t know what it’s like to miss a parent. Mine were never part of my life.
All I know is this: my mother was the wife of Belzebub, brother of the Demon King Astaroth. And my father… a mere human. A slave of Belzebub.
Yep. Exactly.
My mother slept with her husband’s slave.
Life’s full of ironies.
Thanks to that genetic cocktail, I’m called a half-breed. Or an abomination. But it’s also what gave me my Ryujin form.
Either way, I don’t feel the need to thank them. The moment I was born, they shipped me off to train to “liberate the world from Astaroth.”
There was someone I might have considered a father figure: my master.
But in the end, I never saw him as a parent. More like an older brother.
Not that I miss him much, either.
I don’t even remember his face clearly. Just fragments of our training…
Oh, and his personality.
Immature, childish, generous, talented, sarcastic…
…
Wait.
I’m just describing myself.
Oh, come on!