Chapter 1: Those Who Have No One to Rely On Part 1

It was completely unexpected to be caught in the rain. Normally, I should have sought shelter immediately, but I wasn’t in a position to afford such leisure. Even though the weather had begun to warm, the rain in this region was still cold. The coat I was wearing had absorbed the water and was now practically useless.

How many days had passed since I began heading west without any clear destination? No matter how skilled I was at navigating through forests, there were limits.

I had fled farther and farther west, away from “Nishimaya (Western Midnight)”, the western enclave of the Fuso mainland, and somehow ended up here. But even now, I could barely recall how I had managed to survive along the way.

It wasn’t as if I had ever wished for a life of luxury.

It wasn’t as if I had longed for absolute freedom, either.

Still, to live meant needing at least some money. And if you wanted to save something or someone, that always cost even more.

What a miserable era. What a miserable life.

….

Reflecting on his circumstances, the man in the coat called Yoji Kinugasa leaned against a large tree.

The tree was thick with leaves, and its roots curled into a natural hollow. For someone like him, whose ancestors had once been forest dwellers, it was a familiar and comforting space.

Moss, grass, fallen logs. A sea of green. This dense, overgrown forest…whose land did it even belong to?

If he relied on instinct alone, he was probably somewhere in the eastern reaches of the Nordwalt Empire, which shared a land border with Nishimaya… but this world had too many forests. Only locals would know exactly where they were. He had neither the tools nor a map to determine it.

Maybe the only reason that a half-elf like him managed to escape was thanks to the sheer abundance of trees in this world. No, perhaps he should give some credit to how utterly incompetent his pursuers were too.

He set down the bow and quiver he had been carrying, piled up some dried leaves and twigs from his pocket, then pulled out a bit of fluff and struck flint. But his strength was failing him, so with no other choice, he muttered a basic combustion spell.

A wave of dizziness struck him as a chunk of his magical power and mental strength was drained all at once. Something that would have been trivial under normal circumstances now felt like sheer torment.

After hanging his soaked coat and a small crystal lantern on a branch, he glanced down at his bandaged arm.

“Ugh… yeah, that’s bad.”

The wound he’d sustained during his escape had become completely infected. When he rinsed it with water collected in a tree knot, the red-black flesh was clearly visible. A deep gash ran through the center of his arm, the jagged imprint of a barbed arrowhead still raw and unmistakable.

Whoever had shot him had likely coated the tip in filth or poison. The intent to kill had been all too obvious. Tetanus was a certainty. Honestly, taking a shot from a Magic Rifle might’ve been better.

Though his healing ability was better than that of a pure-blooded human or a Lycan, he was still a creature of flesh, bound to the laws of nature. Without medicine, the wound wouldn’t heal.

First, he needed to dry off. Then, sleep. As for food, he might have enough for another two days. A true elf would just forage, but right now, with this arm, there was no way he could catch anything that careless. He couldn’t even properly tell which berries were edible in his current state.

He still had a few coins on him, but without anyone to trade with, they were just dead weight.

That currency exchange had backfired. Imperial coins were heavy.

“No wonder my body feels so damn heavy…”

When he placed a hand on his forehead, he felt unmistakable heat. The fever was clear. The question now was… would he even make it through the night?

He leaned against the roots of the tree and looked up at the rain-soaked sky.

What a pitiful life it had been.

To think he had been born a long-lived elf, only for his life to end after just a few decades. Under normal circumstances, he should have lived ten times that.

But with a life like this, perhaps it couldn’t be helped.

One cannot choose their birth nor the fate that looms ahead. Especially not when one’s own actions have brought about their end. It was karma.

And in the end, he simply didn’t have the strength to resist it.

“I’m sorry… Please forgive your worthless brother… I’m sorry… really… I’m so sorry…”

His mind no longer functioned properly. Like a fevered dream, only apologies spilled from his mouth. He was certain. He wouldn’t see the next morning.

“I’m sorry… Forgive your pathetic brother… I’m sorry… this is all… I could manage…”

Through his blurred vision, his regrets and guilt seemed to flow past him like shadows. Even if something strange appeared within that haze, he was no longer conscious enough to comprehend it.

“Goddess. Eo doesn’t particularly enjoy sleeping next to corpses, you know.”

Voices. Distant, like noise.

“…Still breathing, this mortal is.”

If…just if…whatever had appeared beside him at the edge of death truly had the power to save him…

Surely, he would become of use to that being…no, he must.

“He’s probably dead, you know?”

“Eo-chan, roll up your sleeves for me.”

“Haah… Black hair, long ears. An elf from the Eastern lands, perhaps? What’s someone like that doing here? Ah, this region, I suppose it would be Nishimaya.”

A soft, bright light touched him faintly.

A feeling unlike anything he had ever known… No, perhaps this was what it felt like to be held in the arms of a mother he had never seen before.

Family. That’s right.

He didn’t need much happiness. Perhaps, in the end, what he had truly longed for was something vague yet warm…something like a family.

“—Please…”

“Oh! He spoke. I can’t believe he’s actually alive.”

“Mortal. Are you all right?”

“…. Please, let me be of use.”

A life that had once ended. If it could be saved, then even if it meant giving up everything, he would devote himself completely. That vow, he made in the midst of a dream.