Chapter 32 – My Nemesis, My Soulmate 【Part 2】

This kid was a monster.

The forest path was a perfect stage for an execution. Gnarled roots snaked across the dirt, perfect for tripping a mark. The trees were thick, their branches forming a dense canopy that cast long, ominous shadows. It was the kind of place where a man could disappear without a trace.

And I was walking right into it with the devil himself.

He walked a few paces ahead of me, his posture slumped, his steps uncertain. It was a flawless performance. He was playing the part of the weak, unassuming hero, a mask so perfect it had fooled everyone.

Everyone but me.

I saw the truth. I saw the coiled viper hiding beneath the guise of a harmless garden snake. Every step he took was a calculation. Every glance was an assessment. He wasn’t a hero. He was a player, and this entire world was his game board.

He was testing me. I knew it.

“Watch your step.”

My voice was flat, a carefully controlled monotone. I pointed with my sword toward a particularly nasty-looking root.

“Thanks.”

He gave me a weak, grateful smile. A perfect piece of misdirection. He didn’t need my warning. He had probably mapped every single root and rock on this path before we even set foot on it.

He waited until my back was turned. Then he made his move. He took a deliberate step, catching his foot on the exact root I had pointed out.

He went down hard. His hands scraped against the dirt and loose rocks.

He let out a pathetic yelp. It was a flawless feint.

My entire body went rigid. My hand gripped the hilt of my sword so tightly my knuckles were white. My heart hammered against my ribs.

This was it. The signal.

My eyes darted to the trees, scanning the shadows for his hidden accomplices. The yandere with the knife? The big oaf? Were they waiting for this cue to spring the trap?

The forest was silent. Too silent.

He was baiting me. He was faking weakness to see how I would react. Would I rush to help him, proving myself a fool? Or would I attack, revealing my own hand?

It was a classic gambit. A no-win scenario.

“Are you okay?”

My voice was a low growl. I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t afford to take my eyes off the kill zone.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just clumsy.”

He scrambled to his feet, brushing the dirt off his pants. He was calling off the attack. Aborting the play.

Why? Was I not reacting the way he expected?

The moment was lost. The trap had not been sprung. But the game was far from over.

He fumbled with the cheap sword at his belt. It was a piece of junk, a prop for his little hero act.

With another theatrical grunt of effort, he let it slip from his grasp.

It clattered onto the rocky path, just a few feet away from me.

I spun around, my own sword half-drawn from its sheath.

My blood ran cold. This was a new test. A far more dangerous one.

He had disarmed himself. He was showing me his vulnerability. Or rather, he was showing me that he had none. He didn’t need a sword.

He was offering the weapon to me. Daring me to pick it up. Daring me to attack him.

It was a loyalty test of the highest order. A psychological play so advanced I could barely comprehend it. He wanted to see my intent. He wanted to know if I was a pawn or a player.

He was a monster.

“Oops.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I just stared at the sword on the ground, then back at his calm, unassuming face.

He shuffled forward and picked up his sword, his shoulders slumped in what looked like disappointment.

He was disappointed I hadn’t taken the bait. Disappointed I hadn’t revealed my true nature.

He wasn’t a liability. He was the entire board.

A low growl echoed from the trees ahead.

The howl was a welcome sound. At least a wolf played by the rules.

A beast of muscle and matted grey fur burst from the undergrowth. It was huge, the size of a small horse, with teeth like daggers and eyes that glowed with a feral, red light. Two more followed it, flanking it on either side.

They were predictable mobs. Standard enemies with clear attack patterns.

Ryuuji was the real threat. He was the unpredictable variable. The final boss hiding in the tutorial level.

“Stay behind me.”

He didn’t need me to tell him. He was already taking his position.

Then he screamed.

It was a high-pitched shriek of pure, uncut terror. The kind of scream that makes birds fly out of trees a mile away.

He scrambled backward, tripping over his own feet, and dove behind a large, moss-covered boulder.

He peeked over the top, his eyes wide with fake terror. He was playing the part of the useless coward.

But I saw the truth.

The lead wolf lunged. I met its charge with my shield. The sound of the impact was a dull, wet thud. I grunted, my boots sliding back in the dirt.

The other two wolves started to move, circling around to my exposed sides. I was going to be overwhelmed.

And he was just watching. Waiting.

One of the flanking wolves broke into a sprint, its target my unprotected left side. It was going to get me.

He screamed again. Louder this time.

It wasn’t a sound of fear. It was a weapon.

The piercing shriek cut through the air, and the charging wolf faltered for a split second. Its head turned toward the source of the noise.

It was a sonic stun. A non-magical vocal debuff.

What kind of build was this?

That split second was all I needed. I pivoted, my sword a blur of silver. It sliced through the wolf’s neck in a single, clean arc.

The beast collapsed in a heap.

I didn’t look at my kill. My eyes were locked on him. On the monster hiding behind the rock.

He had just controlled the battlefield with his voice. He had created an opening out of thin air.

This wasn’t a fight. It was a performance, and he was the director.

The remaining two wolves howled, a sound of rage and grief. They attacked together.

I was a whirlwind of steel and desperation. I parried a snapping jaw with my shield, sparks flying as teeth scraped against metal. I ducked under a swipe from the other wolf’s claws, the talons missing my head by inches.

I was good. But I was outmatched. I was getting tired, my movements becoming slower, more frantic.

He was still watching. His face was calm. Calculating.

He looked around wildly, his eyes landing on a small, loose rock near his hand.

He picked it up.

My mind raced. What was he doing now? An improvised projectile? A distraction?

The last wolf, the pack leader, saw its chance. It ignored me and charged directly at him.

At the useless baggage cowering behind the rock.

My brain went blank. This wasn’t part of his plan. The mob was going off-script.

“Ryuuji!”

I threw myself in front of him. A human shield of shining armor. It was a stupid, instinctual move.

The wolf crashed into me. The force of the impact sent us both tumbling to the ground.

Pain exploded in my shoulder as the wolf’s jaws snapped shut, tearing through the metal plate.

I shoved the wolf away with my shield and scrambled to my feet, clutching my bleeding shoulder.

The wolf gathered itself for another attack.

Then he threw the rock.

It sailed through the air and smacked the beast right between the eyes.

It wasn’t a powerful throw. It was a precision strike. A perfectly aimed shot designed to disorient, not to kill.

The wolf shook its head, confused.

I didn’t waste the opportunity. I lunged, my sword finding its mark.

The last wolf fell.

Silence descended on the clearing. I stood over the dead wolves, my chest heaving, my arm bleeding freely.

I turned to look at him. My face was a mask of pure, unadulterated terror.

He hadn’t just used his voice. He had used the environment itself. He had turned a simple rock into a tactical weapon.

He didn’t need a sword, because the whole world was his weapon.

I had to get out of here. I had to get away from this monster before he decided I was no longer a useful pawn.

I scrambled to my feet.

“We should go.”

I started to back away, toward the edge of the clearing.

That’s when I saw it.

I saw the blue glow of the rune, and I finally understood his endgame.

A faint, blue light was pulsing from the ground near the base of an ancient, twisted oak tree. A teleportation trap. A one-way ticket to a dungeon.

It wasn’t a random trap. It was the centerpiece of his entire plan.

He had led me here. He had orchestrated this entire fight. All of it was a prelude to this.

“Siegfried, look out!”

He pointed behind me, his voice filled with fake panic. It was a pathetic, obvious feint.

I spun around, my sword raised, playing along with his little game.

While my back was turned, he broke into a clumsy, flailing run.

He ran straight toward the rune.

“Ryuuji, no!”

I saw what he was doing. He was activating the trap. He was changing the battlefield.

He was dragging me down with him.

I lunged after him. Not to save him. But to stop him.

I couldn’t let him control the terms of engagement.

I was a fool.

My arms wrapped around his waist just as his foot touched the edge of the glowing circle.

The world dissolved into a blaze of pure, silent blue.

The last thing I saw was the look of calm, triumphant satisfaction on his face.

He hadn’t been trying to escape the fight.

He had been trying to change the battlefield.