《Escaping Blood-Forged Chains》 Nepo Baby Problems Naji didn¡¯t want to die, which could have been a simple enough desire to fulfill had he not been kidnapped thirty minutes prior. Now, he was fairly certain his life had reached its peak during the Glaciture Regional tournament last month when he had come in second place. His life was going to end here, on his first mission. A failed mission. His father had gone on a dozen solo missions before she was eighteen. His mother had thirty under her belt before she was sixteen. He was almost twenty, and he couldn''t even handle this lake-demon case with the full support of three talented companions. He groaned. He had started running an extra half-mile every day to prepare for the tournament. To prepare for his party''s first mission without their master, he tacked on another half. Those weeks of gasping breaths and aching muscles were for nothing but a silver medal and an urn. The manacles bit into his wrists. He bit his tongue in turn. That jogged the last remaining tethers of his sanity. Master Bluestone would be disappointed. He was already giving up. What wisdom would his revered teacher impart at such a scene, if he could hear his thoughts? ¡°You¡¯re a sorry excuse for a Laudknight! Your father would have escaped three times already in your shoes. Your mother wouldn¡¯t have even been captured. You can¡¯t even handle one simple mission before losing your head and your life? You¡¯re lucky they¡¯ve got you right now and not me. I¡¯d be ringing your pathetic neck! Get your ass out of your head and fuck shit up already!¡± Naji shuddered. He was glad Master Bluestone wasn¡¯t here. Still¡­ Maybe he wouldn¡¯t die. He had no idea why these demons attacked his party and less idea what they wanted of him, only that it wasn¡¯t good. But not good could mean a lot of things. If he was still breathing now, maybe he could keep it that way. Which meant fictional Master Bluestone was right; he needed to figure out what the demons were up to, what they wanted from him, and how he might escape. Easier thought than done¡­ ¡°Pay attention to your surroundings. Not your thoughts!¡± He could almost feel the bop to his head, and snapped to attention. ¡°Your thoughts are your weakness. You don¡¯t need them. Look around and figure out how to get out of here. If I have to tell your mother you died, I¡¯m going to raise your corpse just so you can copy our faction¡¯s precepts twenty more times before your undeserved untimely ¡®rest.¡¯ LOOK AROUND YOU!¡± The forest floor crunched as his captors led him through the woods. Most of the demons here were fairly humanoid, though their extra limbs or eyes or animal parts were more than conspicuous. A few wolves trailed beside them with eyes of red and smoke curling from their maws as they panted. Hellhounds. That was a bad omen. Such beasts were difficult to control, and they were currently pretty damn controlled. Which meant there were pretty damn powerful demons in this group. Perhaps the one with bat wings and a visible aura of blue fire at the front of the group was one of them. Perhaps that hypothetical Master Bluestone was wrong and Naji should just give up and fall on the blade he could easily snatch from the demon beside him. Perhaps he could die before these demons got the pleasure of killing (or worse!) him themselves. The creature with the sword beside him was scrawny, more human than insect (he hoped those extra parts were insect) which unfortunately did his looks few favors. His hair hung in greasy chunks from his pale head like he¡¯d chopped them with a dull kitchen knife a few days ago and hadn¡¯t brushed it since. Or washed it. Or ever washed it. It actually looked like he¡¯d never heard of the concept of bathing in however exceedingly long his pitiful demon existence was. He also looked like he could topple over at any second, as beneath his dry, thin skin, there didn¡¯t seem to be much between the flesh and bone. Even the extra legs, armored with a green exoskeleton (like a mantis? He¡¯d never seen a mantis leg so textured before. He was on team mantis legs, though. Those spindly appendages had to be insectoid, right? Right?) were pitifully flimsy. The wind bent those insect (oh gods, please be insect) limbs out of shape every few steps. Which meant he was weak. Which meant even subdued in these shackles, he could probably hold his own against this creature. Which meant despite the uncanny twists and shutters of those insectoid (Naji was choosing to believe such to preserve his sanity) limbs, this demon was the least terrifying of the bunch. He¡¯d rather talk to the greasy bug boy than the twenty-mouthed rambler or the tiger-headed fiend or especially that blue-blazing bat brute at the front of the crowd, at the very least. ¡°Hey,¡± he whispered. ¡°Ererrk?¡± insect boy politely responded, cocking his head. His eyes were too-shiny, like some of his hair grease had slipped into the sockets and slicked up those fleshy obsidian marbles within. There was even a yellow crust where you might find tears on a mortal human, which unfortunately forced that image of putrid eye grease to linger in Naji¡¯s mind. ¡°Where are we going?¡± the young man asked as he succeeded at not puking. Insect boy¡¯s eyes darted around the group. What an anxious, jittery little creature. He almost felt bad. But just before his emotions settled to that conclusion, the chains attached to his manacles hooked onto the foliage below. Its cuffs dug into his wrists as it yanked him back. ¡°Fuck!¡± Every eye was on him, except the ones under the clothes of some of those multi-eyed monstrosities, he supposed. He was very grateful the eye creatures¡¯ eye nipples weren¡¯t gawking at him eating shit on the forest floor. He could only take so much embarrassment in one artificially shortened existence before he might artificially shorten it a tad more. His gaze flicked to the insect boy¡¯s sword longingly as he fumbled to his feet. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m getting up, I¡¯m getting up,¡± he promised them. Which would have been true if the chains hadn¡¯t tangled into the same branch and pulled him back down in the next breath. It was at this time that greasy spindly insect boy (of all creatures!) took pity on him and helped him to his feet. Unfortunately, he used his spindly insect limbs. Unfortunately, they were soft and porous, like a sponge. Unfortunately, he knows that now.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. NOT AN INSECT. He could cry. Thankfully, he didn¡¯t. He didn¡¯t know if he could handle losing any more face right now. He didn¡¯t know if he could handle the amount of face he already lost. At this point, he was pretty sure he was going to come back at a no-face spirit once these creatures finally let him leave this mortal coil. It would be better than having to face them. He wasn¡¯t sure face was even a word anymore. Insect boy brushed him off with his human hands, which left a fine powder of skin flakes wherever it wiped off the leaves. ¡°Thanks,¡± he muttered, and despite his embarrassment and disgust, he meant it. The rest of the group kept going, starting to chatter their creaturous tunes once more. Once he tuned his ears to their song, he could even pick out some words. It seemed to be the demons here spoke a pidgin, where his native Glaciturial language had merged with the animalistic clicks and howls and screeches and squelches of the demonfolk¡¯s variable tongues. Whatever words prescribed his fate (if their speech minded him at all) were lost in the demonic side of the pidgin. On the other hand, Glaciturial words like ¡°trip¡± and ¡°faceplant¡± and ¡°ugly little human¡± and ¡°pathetic¡± and ¡°weak¡± and ¡°embarrassing¡± and ¡°loser¡± were incredibly abundant. His face burned, which turned even his deep olive skin a warm pink. ¡°Ignore them,¡± the not-insect said in Glaciturial. Or maybe those were convenient remnants in the pidgin. Naji laughed awkwardly. ¡°That¡¯s hard to do, considering.¡± He lifted his wrists weakly, pointing out his manacles with the gesture. Not-insect nodded like he understood. Naji wondered if he was used to being the target of their snide remarks. Naji then pretended he didn¡¯t care, because caring about the self esteem of the greasy little not-insect in the gang of demons who kidnapped you is fairly inconvenient. Still, as the not-insect looked him over with worry in those too-moist glassy eyes, like he knew the pain all too well, the human couldn¡¯t stop the human heart in his human chest from twinging just a little. ¡°So,¡± the human said in his human tongue, ¡°are you all going to kill me? What¡¯s the plan?¡± Not-insect shook his head, and his grease-clumped locks puttered gracelessly against his scalp. ¡°We eraekek you ajsf uff uff.¡± The human stared at him, not comprehending (for obvious, human reasons). Not-insect titled his head again and stared back, confused (for way too long before remembering the human-shaped human in the room). ¡°Apologies. I do not speak Glaciturial well. I can understand you if you speak. Such helpful! Please forgive me, small mister,¡± the not-insect said in a thick, chittering accent. The form of address was off, but at least he could understand him. ¡°You will live. Not die. You will be¡­¡± he trailed off as he thought of the word¡­ ¡°uncomfortable!¡± ¡°Torture?¡± Naji guessed. The demon shook his head. ¡°Behave then no.¡± ¡°Slave.¡± The demon tilted its head considering, before shaking it once more. ¡°No. No¡­ services. Iron wall house go. Stay with king.¡± That made no sense. ¡°I¡¯m going to a castle?¡± The demon scrunched up his face in frustration. It was almost cute, except some of the yellow crust flaked off as the skin beneath it crinkled. ¡°No! No.... Metal building. Metal doors. Metal rod doors. Keep in metal walls.¡± ¡°Dungeon,¡± Naji realized. ¡°I figured as much. Do you know why? Is it for ransom? Or did I commit some kind of demonland crime I¡¯m unaware of? Or is it supposed to hold me while I wait for something worse to happen¡­ do they¡­ uh, you?... uh, are demons going to eat me? Or will I be sold? Or is some spirit going to take my body from me?¡± The demon shook his head. ¡°Only sit. Not punish you¡­ uh¡­¡± he clicked thoughtfully. ¡°You name Laudknight.¡± His stomach plummeted lower than his bowels should reasonably allow. His gut ached in the shock of it. He had no idea how these demons figured out who he was. His party didn¡¯t even know! Well, they were about to find out. They were hopefully heading back to the training center, and hopefully telling Master Bluestone exactly what happened. This was, in fact, the first time he had ever hoped they would tell Master Bluestone exactly what happened and as soon as possible at that. Unless his master was able to save him before his parent¡¯s monthly check in (which was about three weeks away), then every human mage in Glaciture was going to know exactly who he was. The two most powerful demon slayers in the realm would scorch the earth looking for their son, and his face was going to be bound up with them forever. Even if he did escape these demons, he was about to be plunged into their shadow. The whole realm would know just how big their shoes were on his feet, how impossible it was for their embarrassment of a spawn to fill them. He stared at not-insect¡¯s sword again. ¡°I am not a Laudknight,¡± he lied. He wasn¡¯t a good liar. Not-insect just shrugged, as if to say I¡¯m not the one you have to convince. Disgustingly, that shrug included his not-mantis spindle-limbs. It grew to be night before they reached their destination. Sure enough, Naji was escorted to a dungeon below a castle-like fortress that oozed demonic energy stronger than an improperly etched protection talisman. Not-insect was by his side until the end, which was strangely comforting. He even helped him undo the manacles. He wouldn¡¯t need them once he was behind those bars, it seemed. As he was locked inside the cell, the many-eyed demon chuckled wetly, like there was some kind of joke no one deigned to explain to its pitiful target. Not-insect didn¡¯t find the joke funny. He gave the human an apologetic smile before rushing out of the dungeon. Not-insect had been especially jittery on the way down, so Naji didn¡¯t blame him for the quick retreat. It was actually a bit endearing that he had kept by his side so long. Still, that untold joke was starting to unsettle him. He rubbed his aching wrists nervously. The dungeon was cold, damp, and uncomfortably dark. He was in an offshoot of the main chamber, separated by two separate metal doors and a short flight of stairs between them. There was only one cell here. At least, judging by the vague contours of those iron bars. The torches that flickered by the stairway cast most of the space in unperturbed shadow. He had no true measure of the room nor the cell, and he had no way to surmise the contents of either. Anything could be waiting for him. That thought was immediately confirmed, as the many-eyed demon laughed once more. ¡°Hope you enjoy the company, little Laudknight,¡± they said before leaving the little Laudknight to rot alone. Or not alone. Most likely not alone. A chain clanked behind him. The hairs on his neck stood on their end. Someone was with him in that cell. From the imperceptible corner, a dry voice croaked, ¡°They promise me a snack, you know. Do you think they meant you?¡± He was screwed. Panic! At the Dungeon! And Beyond! Three years later. A hand slapped him awake, which was rather rude of it. His cheek stung as he blinked his dormitory into existence. It was smaller than his room in his parents¡¯ manor. It was smaller than his cage in the dungeon. He¡¯d rather feel the warm sunlight on his skin and curl into downy sheets than have a few more inches of cold stone floor, so he didn¡¯t mind. Naji woke up alive, as far as he was aware, and that was the important thing. He was safe, for the most part. However, the feral woman now straddling him might force him to disagree with that assessment. ¡°Ninsey, you¡¯re not supposed to be in here,¡± he groaned, attempting to stretch out from under her. He rubbed his still-stinging face, and glared at the feral creature he had the misfortune of calling his friend. ¡°You were talking in your sleep, again. You said his name,¡± she said in the thick, chittering accent she couldn¡¯t break. His name. Naji winced. He didn¡¯t have the energy to talk to Ninsey of all people about him of all subjects. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t know that if you weren¡¯t in my room to begin with. Which, let me remind you, you¡¯re not supposed to be.¡± Ninsey¡¯s cat stretched a top of him, incidentally pinning him down with her pale, twiggy hands. She was much stronger than her wispy frame would suggest, and Naji didn¡¯t feel like struggling. The woman was inept at any social decorum and simply had no understanding of the proper way to wake a sleeping man. Especially one you¡¯re not dating. Especially one who is trying to avoid the business end of her girlfriend¡¯s dagger. ¡°Nin, you have to get off of me.¡± She looked down at the man with those too-round too-shiny black glass eyes, confusion fluttering her colorless eyelashes. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because I need to get up.¡± She blinked one more time before laughing. ¡°Oh! Sorry!¡± The creaturous woman scrambled off the bed gracelessly, accidentally dragging his blanket with her. He could only sigh as she revealed his half-naked form. Silently, he thanked the gods he had put on linen shorts before he slept last night. Not that Ninsey would have cared about the difference. He slumped his body off the side of the bed, and slowly made his way to the closet. At this point, he¡¯d stopped caring that she had violated half a dozen rules of propriety. She clearly wanted something, and figuring out whatever that was would get her out of his dorm before his master or her girlfriend caught them. ¡°So, what¡¯s up?¡± he said, slipping on a set of night-blue slacks and its matching silk tunic. He wrapped his leather belts around his waist, and attached his standard equipment pouches to them. He was waiting for a response, but it didn¡¯t come. As he grabbed his sword, he unsheathed it from the scabbard, letting the mirror-like blade reflect the creature behind him. When he finally escaped the dungeon and found his parents, his mother had thrust that blade into his hands as soon as she managed to stop hugging her boy. It was a powerful relic, able to reveal the original body of nefarious creatures in its mirror-like blade. Ninsey¡¯s true demon form reflected back at him, and he smiled slightly when he saw the uncanny visage of his strange bug-like (but unfortunately NOT a bug) friend. She was much more boyish in reality, with a flat chest and narrow hips. But ever since she saw her favorite ¡°play¡± at a brothel (a shamelessly erotic production with more flashing than plot), she fixated on the look of the ethereally gorgeous female lead. Naji used Ninsey¡¯s fascination to convince her to hide those spindly extra limbs, which was pretty clever on his part. Unfortunately, his smile faltered as he examined her true form closer. Her silence had not come from some sparkly distraction in his room, as he had assumed. Rather, her usually jittery eyes were fixed on him. Her uncannily long fingers still fiddled with themselves, but her feet were completely still. She wasn¡¯t distracted. She didn¡¯t have the words to answer. That was rare, and it fucking terrified him. ¡°Nins, what is it?¡± He resheathed his sword and spun to face her. ¡°Master Bluestone gave us a mission,¡± she finally managed. ¡°Isn¡¯t that a good thing?¡± he asked. There was something she didn¡¯t want to say. She looked down at her feet, which were still firmly planted on the hardwood floor. His gut pinched. What could possibly still that feral woman? He knew the answer. He swallowed, before prompting. ¡°It has to do with him then?¡± After what was arguably way too long, she nodded. ¡°You mentioned him in your sleep,¡± she reminded him. ¡°Have you had dreams about him recently?¡± He rubbed the back of his neck. Naji, himself, hesitated, mulling over just how much he wanted to admit to his dear Not-Insect. The truth was, he dreamed of the demon from his dungeon cell almost every night since their escape. He hadn¡¯t told a soul. Not Ninsey, not his other groupmates, not his parents, not his master. He knew he should have. Perhaps, had he known, his master could guide him through meditation exercises to dispel the nightmares of his kidnapping. Perhaps he could have helped him etch a few dream protection talismans to bar demonic influence in his dreams. However, he didn¡¯t want them to end. That was the only safe way to see his face again, just ephemeral glimpses in his unconscious. So he lied. Partly. ¡°I had one last night,¡± he said, figuring he didn¡¯t have to admit much more. ¡°It was that first night, in the dungeon.¡± Ninsey shuddered. He understood why. She had seen the aftermath when she visited him that morning, but she could only imagine how it had gotten to that point. ¡°Do you dream of then often?¡± This time he fully lied. ¡°No.¡± She just nodded, convinced. She wasn¡¯t hard to convince. Naji cringed as he broke that pure trust she had in him, but he couldn¡¯t help it. He wasn¡¯t ready to discuss those nightly glimpses of his past any more than necessary. But there was still something Ninsey hadn¡¯t explained. ¡°So what does he have to do with our new mission?¡± ¡°The artifact Master Bluestone wants us to look for. It¡¯s one of his.¡± Naji frowned. That was not good. That was really not good. That was really, really, really fucking not even a little bit wholely and unequivocally not good. Three years ago, in the dungeon. ¡°How big is your appetite?¡± Naji winced at his own words. He needed to stay away from whatever person or demon lingered in those shadows. Speaking to him (or it) was less than wise. But it was either his voice in the air or the ramblings of a madman in his head. He wasn¡¯t sure which one was worse. ¡°I haven¡¯t eaten in weeks,¡± said that hoarse voice. It sounded like he hadn¡¯t had anything to drink either. Naji wasn¡¯t planning to offer. Instead, the young man crouched as close to the bars of the cage as possible, as far from the other as he could manage. That was probably a good thing, since the voice continued, ¡°You smell fresh.¡± ¡°I smell better than I taste,¡± Naji quipped back. He needed to shut up. He was going to die in here if he didn¡¯t shut up. But what if he died if he stayed silent? What if he closed that mouth of his for the risk of it, and ended up without another breath anyway? Would that not be an absolute waste of the terrifying few minutes he had left, to let those thoughts cloud his head again? Master Bluestone would say he was an idiot. Master Bluestone wasn¡¯t here. ¡°Are you going to eat me?¡± ¡°Are you going to come closer?¡± The young man shook his head before realizing both of them were practically blind in here. ¡°No, I¡¯m good where I am.¡± ¡°Hm, then I probably won¡¯t get the chance.¡± Iron chains clinked. Naji could almost make out the pattern of a shrug in the rhythm of the iron. ¡°My leash is short.¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Who are you?¡± He was pretty direct then. It could almost be considered rude, if the chained one hadn¡¯t just been contemplating the smell and taste of his flesh. Out loud. In front of him. He could afford to be a little direct. What image was he maintaining in the lower dungeons of a demon fortress, in the dark and cold, with just one creeping figure watching (if he could see) from that unseen spot in the corner. He could strip naked and who would be the wiser. He almost did it, for the fuck of it. Who would know? Who would care? His fingers twiddled with the hem of his tunic. But he remembered that he was allowed to save himself a scrap of dignity. And also it was fucking cold. ¡°Are you scared?¡± the voice asked. ¡°Who are you?¡± he repeated, uninterested in the question. But the voice ignored him in kind. ¡°You¡¯re almost as jittery as that fungal demon. Are you scared? Or cold?¡± ¡°I¡¯m high,¡± Naji shot back, refusing to dignify the asshole with any semblance of the truth. ¡°Now answer mine. Who are you? Or does that question not apply?¡± ¡°Zskch, tsk,¡± the creature answered in almost a chide, but more of a click. Or hiss. Or sneeze. Or, most accurately, a gross scratch-like sound that grated the human¡¯s ears like a sword scratching a palette stone. ¡°That was a hiss,¡± he stated. ¡°I want to know who you are.¡± ¡°I just told you.¡± ¡°You seem to speak Glaciturial well enough. Answer in a language I understand, if you¡¯d be so kind.¡± ¡°Zish,¡± he said, approximating that awful noise into the human¡¯s speaking pattern. ¡°And that means?¡± ¡°My name,¡± Zish stated. ¡°Oh.¡± There was silence for a second. Then another second. Then the cold iron against Naji¡¯s back became bones and the floor became ants and his heart became an escalating drum beat that refused to settle at any healthy speed. All metaphorical, as there was always a chance such could really occur, considering he was in the domain of demons. Master Bluestone always emphasized the importance of knowing the enemy to his other students. Raji studied demons for years and he studied diligently. There was a reason he was under the wing of the renowned Master at the Bluestone Grounds, one of the most intensive training centers for the Renka sect. It wasn¡¯t his knowledge that held him back from achieving greatness. In fact, Master Bluestone always chided him for using that knowledge when he could use his feet or his hands. He was the only student that was barred from taking the last spring exam because his Master wanted all his attention on bridging his mana, his spirit, and his body. That said, even he didn¡¯t know all the types of demons that existed. He knew all the common ones, and a truly impressive list of uncommon ones. The problem was, the traits and abilities of demons were impossible to confine to a textbook. They were as varied as the crystals of snow. They were as unique as they were numerous. Their one shared trait was in their difference. And thus the chaos of that race was impossible to truly chart. At least, that¡¯s what the texts would have you believe. And, of course, the texts could not fully be trusted. They said so themselves. So what did he know? The point is, the ground could have truly changed to ants, and the bars of the cage could have changed to bones, and some music-fond creature could have slipped through the cavity of his veins and with impossible speed could have beat a miniature drum in his heart. What really happened, as the human shuttered at the bones and wiped away the ants and clutched the space above that quickening drum, was that he panicked. He had stopped filling the air with frivolous babble and much less frivolous thoughts crashed in. Every pinch of his skin was aching in terror. Every drop of his blood was hot with fear. He was bantering with a demon one moment and falling to himself the next. He was a poor excuse for a Laudknight. ¡°You¡¯re a Laudknight?¡± Zish asked. He couldn¡¯t tell the tone. He could barely make out the words. ¡°No!¡± Raji yelled. His hands made their way from the ants at his feet and the middle of his chest to the curve of his ears. His body was jittering. Faster than not-insect. Faster than his heart could even beat. He was rattling like a snake, shaking like a rattle, pulsing like the blood of a heart-thorn demon. He was cold. He was so. Damn. Cold. The chains clattered in that corner of the cell, and then something fell on top of him. His body jerked in response, tangling his limbs with some thick arrangement of fabric. As he tried to twist out, he remembered tripping in the words earlier. He remembered the net trap he had activated that launched him into the air, suspending him from the branch of a gnarly old tree. He remembered being the only of his team to not escape. He remembered the demons staring at him, the many-eyed demon laughing at him as he locked the human in the cage with this creature on the other side. He remembered failing three physical challenges this year, and Bluestone pitching the daily mile run so he didn¡¯t embarrass himself in the tournament. He remembered having to cut that in half because he simply couldn¡¯t handle the stain. His teammates could. Levon ran three a day before he could run half. He remembered how he trained all year while his friends studied for their demon exams, and how despite his dedication, his blood sweat and tears, despite the strain on his body and mind and everything, he had just scraped by with second place. No one else had trained as much as him. He knew because he watched them train, studied their movements, tried in vain to imitate how their bodies worked with their mana, rather than the other way around. He remembered that look in his parent¡¯s eyes as he showed them the silver. He had almost been proud. But then again, they were going on missions solo years before he went on missions with a whole ass team to back him up. He remembered. He remembered. He remembered. And now he was twisted in a weird piece of fabric, after having a panic attack in front of Zish the fucking demon, in the coldest fucking dungeon he¡¯d ever had the displeasure of being trapped in (which is completely accurate, considering it was his first), with no idea how to escape and at this point, almost no desire to figure out how. He was fucked. He was a loser. He was laughing. He was laughing so hard. He fell back to the floor and laughed till his stomach ached from laughter instead of terror. When the laughter slowed, his body drained of energy, he fumbled with the fabric again, finally able to make his escape. He fondled the piece, trying to decipher what the fuck it was. He still had no clue what the fuck it was. So he said, ¡°what the fuck is this?¡± And Zish spoke again. He¡¯d been quiet for so long, watching this strange human lose his fucking mind. He simply said, ¡°my coat.¡± Naji sat up, leaning once again on the bars which were no longer metaphorical bones. ¡°You¡¯re coat?¡± He was gasping for breath still, but at least he was breathing. Despite all his fear, he was happy to be breathing. ¡°You seemed cold.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Naji managed to wrap the coat around himself, now that he understood what the contours of the fabric could be. Arm here, arm there. ¡°That¡¯s unexpectedly kind for a demon that seems set on devouring my poor human flesh. Are you not a fan of popsicles?¡± The demon grunted in a way that could have been a hiss or a laugh or maybe demon pidgin instead (Naji might try to learn some if he ever escapes¡­ and if his human vocal cords can find a way to replicate those sounds). ¡°Popsicle?¡± Zish inquired. ¡°My dad has a trick to freeze water. We¡¯d make sweet ice from fruit juice when he¡¯d visit me in the summer. We call them popsicles.¡± ¡°Hmmm, no I don¡¯t think you¡¯d taste good frozen,¡± the demon said after careful consideration. ¡°I¡¯m delicious warm. I see, I see.¡± Naji snorted, and his body jolted with it like a hiccup. Now even laughter was starting to hurt. He hadn¡¯t even been tortured yet, and he was miserable. ¡°I¡¯m so tired,¡± he commented to the air. Zish responded anyway, ¡°Humans lose their energy so easily.¡± ¡°We¡¯re only human.¡± ¡°Is that supposed to mean something?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a saying.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a pitiful saying.¡± ¡°Who are you to judge?¡± ¡°Zish.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°I never got your name, Laudknight.¡± ¡°That is my name.¡± ¡°The one to call you.¡± ¡°Is it so important to know the name of your next dish?¡± ¡°No, but it may be important to know your name, if we are going to spend too long in this prison.¡± Raji paused. ¡°Does¡­ that mean you¡¯re not going to eat me?¡± There was that groan again. It was definitely a snort this time. Even the demon¡¯s laughter was more powerful than his own. The hairs on his neck stood up at the sound. ¡°Let¡¯s make a deal. You tell me your name, and I promise I won¡¯t.¡± ¡°Won¡¯t what?¡± ¡°Hm?¡± ¡°I want you to say the terms of the deal completely and explicitly. If I tell you my name, what won¡¯t you do? Phrase it like that and everything.¡± The human instructed. Some demons were quick-witted bargainers. A special kind might never lie, but warp their words to match their true intentions anyway with the other party none the wiser. These were more common to the north, and it was far more likely that Zish could lie all he wanted without issue. But if there was a chance the human could bend the tides in his favor he wanted to take it. ¡°Okay,¡± the demon agreed. ¡°If you tell me your name, I will not eat you.¡± Raji smiled. ¡°Good. My name is Raji. Raji Laudknight.¡± It was after he said it that he remembered those same northern demons could steal names once given. He might have just lost everything. He also didn¡¯t have the energy to care. ¡°Pleasure to meet you, Raji,¡± the demon said, amicably. ¡°Now, human. Let¡¯s start planning our escape.¡± Sweet Dreams are Hard to Seize; Or, Who am I to Disagree? Three years later. ¡°My team will not be able to do this mission,¡± Raji said as matter-of-fact as he could muster. Master Bluestone looked up at him, a brow quirked. ¡°And why is that?¡± He asked, bemused. ¡°There is a¡­ well we¡­¡± the young man swallowed, bringing back his composure. He already had an excuse, if his tongue could only remember it. ¡°Ninsey isn¡¯t feeling well,¡± he said instead of the really smart thing he¡¯d concocted before. Fuck. ¡°Well, go without her then.¡± Fuck. His master was a man whose authority showed on his face. Liver spots riddled his skin, marking age in well-worn patterns. His hair was thin, but shaped respectably, a medium track of white that was short enough to be practical but long enough to indicate years of thoughtful care. His eyes were grey, sharp things that could have stunned one in his youth but now serve the clear purpose of calculated observation. Despite his humanity, his mana had kept his body alive well past its natural decline. The wrinkles decorating his sharp features meant he was years past a supernaturally lengthened prime, and his mind would hold all those years as a font for wisdom. He was not one to deceive, which meant only failure would befall any of Raji¡¯s attempts at deception. Raji deceived anyway with an attempt so poor, only Ninsey could be fooled. The young man rubbed his neck, his body unable to contain its own embarrassment. ¡°No, uh, well¡­¡± ¡°There¡¯s something you¡¯re not telling me,¡± Master Bluestone observed. He leaned back in his chair to better observe his anxious student. His brows narrowed. ¡°Is everything alright?¡± Fuck. ¡°Well, um, well, no¡­¡± ¡°Did something happen to a member of your team or does it have something to do with the mission?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ sir¡­ um¡­ uh¡­¡± ¡°Your stuttering is not an answer. Quit thinking. Just shove the words through your mouth.¡± Now, that was a way to say it. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s about the mission. We can¡¯t do it.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± Raji¡¯s eyes flicked around the room, looking for an anchor. His heart was beating fast. He could feel it beating fast. ¡°You¡¯ve become a very capable young man.¡±¨CBluestone looked the young man up and down and amended¨C¡±In the field, at least. There is no reason your party cannot handle a simple case like this.¡± The master dug through the papers at his desk, pulling out a piece of parchment with the assignment. He shifted his reading spectacles chained around his neck to the tip of his nose. ¡°It¡¯s not even a hunt. You just need to meet the artifact seller at our designated location in Yunicsa and bring the Twilight Blade back to our sect¡¯s temple.¡± ¡°Yes, but¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re sweating.¡± The master tossed his student a silk handkerchief, still trying to read this particular anxiety from the young man¡¯s face. Where his words were tied, if only his eyes could fill. But all he could garner was Raji¡¯s absolute panic, which was a common enough occurrence that it told him little of the story. However, throughout the past few months, the kid stopped fretting over missions. He was now well suited to his role, despite what years of barely meeting Bluestone¡¯s high expectations had suggested. He even started taking the lead, and that party of his acquiesced to their shifting dynamic with surprising ease. The boy had always been bright, driven, and well liked. While his anxiety remained, its target shifted, like filling the role of party leader gave him a certain armor he would crumble without. But now he was crumbling over a simple mission. That was a novelty. ¡°Yes, thank you, sorry.¡± ¡°Raji,¡± his master started, his edged hardening. This was familiar at least. Familiarity was good. The boy could use familiar. ¡°You¡¯re right. You shouldn¡¯t lead this mission.¡± ¡°Oh? Thank you sir!¡± ¡°Mali will.¡± The young man¡¯s face froze. ¡°Okay,¡± he said carefully. ¡°That makes sense.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not a good talker anyway. She can deal with the exchange.¡± ¡°Perfect.¡± This should be perfect. He didn¡¯t have to go. Mali would be in charge. But he had gotten his way too fast, and without his master probing for details. That was not how conversations with Master Bluestone went. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°Now, pack up your things. Your party will be heading out tomorrow.¡± What? ¡°But you said.¡± ¡°Clearly you¡¯re unfit to lead. So Mali will. Is something else wrong?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t go, Master Bluestone. I can¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°Tell me why.¡± But he couldn¡¯t do that either. ¡°I want to help you, Raji. But you refuse to let me. So you¡¯re going on this mission.¡± Raji swallowed. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity, fuck! ¡°Yes, sir. You¡¯re right, sir. I was just nervous about something¡­ frivolous. It should be fine.¡± It would not be fine. It would not be fine. It would not be fine. Master Bluestone stared at his student with those discerning eyes. There wasn¡¯t malice there, but the man was as solid as a stone. Difficult to sway, harder to move. If he didn¡¯t explain exactly what his issue was, then he was going on the mission. And if he did explain his issue, he would lose all the respect he struggled for these past three years. There was only one option he was willing to choose. The next morning, he and the three members of his party set out for Yunicsa. He was going to regret this. Or maybe he¡¯d die. Anything is better than disappointing Master Bluestone, though. Three years earlier, in the dungeon. Raji nodded his head. What the creature had said was surprisingly reasonable. They both wanted to escape, why not do it together? It was much better than being eaten, at the very least. ¡°Okay, what¡¯s your plan?¡± ¡°I¡¯m chained.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And we are in the most secure spot in the dungeon.¡± ¡°Are we really?¡± ¡°Yes, two metal doors each carved with runes. Even powerful magics cannot open them.¡± ¡°How do you know?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve tried.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re a powerful demon then?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The demon was riddled with unbridled arrogance. His voice was dripping with his own ego. He didn¡¯t just state that as a face, but every small facet of his tone relished in that affirmation. That didn¡¯t mean what he said wasn¡¯t true. Raji winced. ¡°So you¡¯re down here because¡­¡± ¡°They¡¯re terrified of me.¡± ¡°The other demons?¡± ¡°Yess.¡± The word was just barely elongated, the voice lilted. There was that pride, again. ¡°And what makes you so terrifying?¡± ¡°Come to my corner, if you want to find out.¡± He could even hear the smile tugging the demon¡¯s lips wide. It was savoringly malicious. ¡°I won¡¯t hurt you, I promise.¡± ¡°I¡¯m supposed to believe that?¡± ¡°Yes. I need you to escape.¡± Raji laughed. That ache in his belly panged again as the laugh tensed his stomach muscles once more. ¡°I am not powerful.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. You just need to be another person.¡± ¡°And why is that?¡± ¡°One of us is in chains. The other isn¡¯t. That¡¯s one more step closer to the door.¡± The young mage took that in. It made a simple kind of sense, but it made sense. He exhaled air from his nose before saying, ¡°So what''s your plan, then?¡± ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t have one.¡± ¡°...¡± Raji¡¯s eye twitched. ¡°Then why¡­ why act like you did!?¡± ¡°When did I do that?¡± ¡°When you said¡­¡± ¡°¡®Let¡¯s start planning our escape?¡¯ Is the implication not that I haven¡¯t yet started? Or is my Glaciturial too weak? In the latter¡¯s case, many apologies for my poor speech. This is not my mother tongue.¡± If the corner monster wasn¡¯t fucking terrifying and probably malicious, Raji would have the mind to punch him. Instead, he tried to think of a way out. Instead of even that, his mind started to wobble into mist. Metaphorical mist, mind you. No mist demons had pervaded his weak human senses, as far as he was aware. ¡°Here¡¯s my plan. I sleep. Then, tomorrow, you answer my questions and you answer them right. Then, we plan. Got it?¡± ¡°Yes, Master Laudknight.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t call me that,¡± Raji snapped. ¡°You don¡¯t like being called ¡®master¡¯?¡± ¡°No, Laudknight.¡± The silence hung for a moment too long, but his brain was too tired to run wild. It was only when he was half drifted asleep that Zish got to have the final say. ¡°Okay, Raji. Get some rest.¡± It was lilted, but whispered. Like the amusement was for himself, and he had not intended his cellmate to hear. But the human did hear. And as he plummeted into his dreams, his brain kept the phrase on repeat. ¡°Okay, Raji. Get some rest.¡± It was a sweet melody, to be called one¡¯s name. To be given a moment to rest. Why was it so sweet? Why was it now, in the depths of a demon fortress, caged in with a powerful, probably malicious demon, that he finally got to rest? The floor was cold and hard, but the cloak the demon had given him almost made up for that fact. It was supernaturally comfortable. Demonically so, perhaps. Magically enhanced. Or maybe he was just so fucking tired, that it didn¡¯t matter how hard the ground was and how soft the cloak was. A moment to sleep in any state felt like the height of luxury. He had been tired for a long time. Longer than he realized.