Halven, the heart of the Lizardmen territory, was unlike any city Aya and Tetsuya had ever known. A place where life thrived in motion, where laughter echoed through the swamp-kissed air, and where the people, scaled, sharp-eyed, yet brimming with warmth, embraced a life of simple joys and unwavering camaraderie.
Yet, Halven was not solely inhabited by Lizardmen. For as long as history recorded, they had shared their home with the Lamia—a race of beings with human torsos and serpentine lower bodies, seamlessly integrated into daily life. To outsiders, the alliance might have seemed improbable, but within Halven, it was as natural as the rising sun.
The origins of their unity had long faded into legend, buried beneath the weight of generations who had never questioned it. Some whispered that the ancestors of both races had once clashed, only to realize that neither could thrive without the other. The Lamia, with their grace and keen intellect, had brought wisdom and diplomacy to Halven, while the Lizardmen, ever sturdy and battle-ready, had stood as protectors of their shared home. Over time, their differences became strengths, woven into the foundation of their society.
Now, the lines between the two races were nonexistent.
The streets bustled with movement. Lizardmen and Lamia merchants stood side by side, calling out competitive offers, their voices weaving through the marketplace like a lively melody. A Lamia vendor coiled effortlessly around the wooden beams of his stall, his emerald eyes flashing with amusement as he handed off goods to a regular customer.
"Ah, Garna, don't think I haven't noticed you slithering past my shop every morning without buying something!" he teased, flicking his tongue in jest.
Garna, a fellow Lamia with dark sapphire scales, smirked, stretching lazily. "I was waiting for you to lower your ridiculous prices."
Before the merchant could protest, a nearby Lizardman vendor let out a sharp laugh.
"Lower his prices? You must be joking!" he bellowed, crossing his arms. "If that crook ever cuts his rates, I'll personally swim across the swamp backward!"
The surrounding merchants and customers erupted into laughter, their teasing exchanges turning into an exaggerated bargaining game.
Meanwhile, Lamia and Lizardmen children played freely in the wide paths between market stalls, their laughter ringing through the air. A young Lamia girl wrapped herself tightly around a Lizardman boy, attempting to wrestle him down.
"Yield, warrior!" she declared dramatically, squeezing tighter.
The boy struggled for a moment before finally flopping onto his back in defeat. "Fine! You win! But next time, I will be the strongest in Halven!"
"You say that every time," the girl teased, flicking her tongue playfully.
The children who had been watching laughed at the boy teasing him./
The city was not merely peaceful—it was alive, thriving in its unity.
For Aya and Tetsuya, adapting to Halven had been effortless. It was impossible to remain an outsider in a city that welcomed all with open arms. The playful banter, the easy humor, the shared traditions—it had quickly felt more like home than the chaotic world they had left behind.
Aya had never planned to become a chef, much less a business owner. But as the days passed in Halven, she found herself observing the Lizardmen's eating habits—how they hunted, how they prepared their meals, and most importantly, how painfully bland their cuisine was.
It wasn't their fault. Their diets were functional, not flavorful—boiled fish, lightly salted meats, and the occasional swamp-root stew. They ate for survival, not enjoyment.
And that was something Aya couldn't accept.
The realization hit her one evening when she was invited to a celebratory feast. A group of warriors had returned victorious from a territorial skirmish, and in honor of their triumph, they gathered in the city center for a grand meal. Aya was excited—until she saw what was served.
Smoked frog meat, soggy fish paste, and something they called "Battle Broth," which smelled like mud and despair.
Aya stared at her plate, mortified.
Tetsuya nudged her, amused. "This is a delicacy here," he whispered.
Aya blinked at him, then at the food, then back at him.
"This is unacceptable," she muttered.
And thus it was at that moment that she made up her mind.
The next day, she experimented. She borrowed ingredients, she studied local fish species, she tested which herbs enhanced flavors, and she used cooking techniques foreign to the Lizardmen.
Then, cautiously, she handed a dish to one of the warriors—an elder with a skeptical glare.
The moment he took a bite, the world stopped.
His eyes widened. His tail flicked. He chewed slowly, then faster, then looked up at her with pure awe.
"What is this?" he whispered.
Aya smirked. "It's what food is supposed to taste like."
"Please marry me," He pleaded eating more and more tears running down his cheeks.
Word spread faster than she expected. Within days, warriors lined up outside her home, begging to taste her cooking. Some brought fresh fish, hoping she could turn their catch into a masterpiece. Others simply stared at her in silent reverence, as if she were some kind of culinary deity.
The final push came when the Lizardmen general himself arrived—curious about the woman who had, apparently, redefined what food meant in Halven.
He tasted one bite. Just one.
And then he stood, declaring that her skills were necessary for the city.
"You will open a place of trade," he commanded. "Your knowledge must be shared."
Aya hadn't been given a choice—she had been chosen.
And so, the first diner in Halven was born.
Unlike Aya, who built her success through cooking and charisma, Tetsuya focused on trade and strategy. His first step was securing legitimacy—registering at the merchant's guild, ensuring that his business was formally recognized in Halven's economy.
But he didn't just open a shop—he built an entire trading system.
With the support of both the Lizardmen and Lamia communities, Tetsuya established a wholesale supply chain, bringing materials that were rare and entirely new to the swamp city. Instead of competing with small traders, he became their provider, offering affordable bulk prices that allowed merchants to sell quality goods without struggling to source expensive imports. He connected merchants who brought goods from faraway lands with those who sold in the city.
His shop quickly became the backbone of Halven's trade, distributing rare fabrics, enchanted metals, handcrafted tools, and even exclusive merchant permits that allowed businesses to thrive under fair pricing policies.
More than just a businessman, he became a stabilizing force in the city's economy. His wholesale system ensured consistent supplies, encouraged healthy trade competition, and gave merchants the freedom to expand their businesses without fear of stock shortages.
His discounts, his reliability, and his strategic partnerships cemented his place as one of Halven's most trusted figures. Soon, his shop wasn't just a store—it was a hub for commerce, attracting merchants from across the lizard men's lands, each eager to work under his fair trade model.
With Aya ruling cuisine and Tetsuya leading trade, the two had unknowingly woven themselves into Halven's very foundation.
Life was steady. Prosperous.
Until the summons came.
The two received summons from the Commanding General himself. Yes, the lizard man who was in charge of the two by the king's decree. Last, they had meet him, he had told them to go get used to the kingdom and interact with its people, something the other generals thought was foolish and not professional, but the heroes had proved them wrong, making them question their judgments. The two made their way to the general, curious to know what the general wanted to tell them.
Aya and Tetsuya stood before Nari Hagarami, the commanding general of the Lizardmen forces. His scaled hands rested firmly on the armrests of his throne, his slitted eyes gleaming under the dim glow of torches lining the chamber walls.
"I see you are adapting well to your new lives," Nari remarked, his voice deep, carrying the weight of authority.
Aya offered a light smile. "It's thanks to the support of your people. Though I assume that's not why you called us here."
Nari smirked. "Straight to the point."
Nari chuckled, his sharp fangs momentarily visible beneath his lips before his expression hardened. "Indeed. I have summoned you because it is time you prove your abilities. You cannot remain in Halven without showing your worth as warriors. Or did you forget that this is a land of warriors?"
Aya and Tetsuya exchanged glances. A smirk on their faces, this is what they had been eagerly waiting for. A chance to prove their worth
"To do this," Nari continued, "you will need weapons suited to your abilities. Furishi will escort you to the National Caves, where we store our war spoils. You may choose any weapon that you deem fit."
A servant entered, bowing slightly before gesturing toward the corridor.
Tetsuya stepped forward, his smirk fading, replaced with focus. Aya followed closely behind.
As they walked through the city, the air remained thick with the humid scent of swamp and damp earth. The glow of fireflies flickered across the murky water, their tiny sparks dancing across the surface like scattered stars. The chatter of Lizardmen warriors echoed through the streets, their voices a mixture of guttural laughs and hushed conversations. The city was a lively place.
Then, as they approached the entrance to the caves, the atmosphere shifted.
The light seemed dimmer, the air heavier.
Aya felt a subtle unease creeping along her spine.
The entrance to the cave loomed before them, its jagged stone framing a dark corridor lined with flickering mana-infused torches. The path leading inward was damp, the air thick with the scent of minerals and aged battle relics—stored remnants of Halven's long-standing war history.
Aya and Tetsuya stepped forward cautiously, their escort, Furishi, leading the way. The Lizardman warrior held his halberd close, his posture rigid despite the calm air surrounding them. The cave was supposed to be secure, monitored by guards stationed at its entrance. And yet, the silence felt unnatural.
At first, everything seemed normal.
But this suddenly changed when Tetsuya saw it.
The first body lay against the cavern wall, its form limp, unmoving.
Then another. And another.
Lamia and Lizardmen guards—all unconscious, their weapons still in hand, their expressions peaceful as if they had simply fallen into an unnatural slumber. Some were slumped against rocks, others sprawled across the ground, their breathing slow and steady.
Aya's breath hitched. She moved forward, kneeling beside a guard and pressing two fingers against his scaled neck. His pulse was steady, his body completely uninjured.
"They're alive," she murmured. "They're just asleep."
Tetsuya narrowed his eyes. "What kind of magic does this?"
Furishi opened his mouth to respond—but his body swayed suddenly, his eyes fluttering.
The Lizardman staggered, his knees buckling as he let out a strangled sound. "I feel… dizzy…"
Aya turned swiftly. "Furishi?"
The moment he collapsed, Aya lunged forward, catching him before his head hit the stone floor. His eyes rolled back, and within seconds, he was asleep, just like the others.
Silence.
For a moment, neither Aya nor Tetsuya spoke, their gazes locked on Furishi's unmoving form. The unsettling reality of the situation settled into them.
They weren't dealing with physical attackers.
Something had already infiltrated the cave. And it wanted to do things with minimum disturbance.
Tetsuya clenched his fist. "We need to move."
Aya nodded, swallowing the unease creeping up her throat. Carefully, they ensured the guards were safe, checking their pulses, securing their positions before pressing deeper into the cavern.
Their footsteps echoed softly against the smooth stone as the torchlight flickered. Aya kept her illusions suppressed for now, unwilling to waste mana before confirming what they were dealing with.
Then, they saw them.
Three cloaked figures stood in the vast, open chamber ahead, their robes billowing slightly despite the lack of wind. Their faces were obscured—shadows clinging to their forms, their presence impossibly still, impossibly unnatural. The atmosphere around them was choaking, as if they were in a field of dark concentrated mana.
For a brief second, Aya and Tetsuya stood frozen, their instincts tightening like a coiled spring, ready to snap.
Tetsuya exhaled slowly.
Then, without warning, he attacked.
Mana surged around him as the temperature plummeted. Water droplets that had seeped from the cave walls froze instantly, the moisture solidifying into jagged ice spikes across the ground. The cavern transformed in mere seconds into a frozen battlefield, ice curling up the cave walls, sealing the exits, locking the cloaked figures into a prison of subzero cold.
The attackers jerked slightly at the sudden shift, momentarily caught off guard.
Then, Aya struck.
Her illusions slithered into the enemy's minds like whispers of a nightmare, twisting reality into chaos. Shadows stretched unnaturally, the cavern seemed to stretch into endless corridors, and the air thickened with suffocating silence.
The two lesser operatives froze—eyes widening, bodies rigid—as their worst fears consumed them.
One clutched his throat, gasping, convinced he was buried alive, the weight of unseen earth pressing against his chest and worse his late daughter watching him with a satisfied smile on her face yet an unforgiving, jagged spear of metal soaked in blood was impaled on her chest, crimson rivulets trickling from the wound wetting her dress as it pooled the grave he was in mixing with the earth as it covered him. The other trembled, seeing reflections of herself, shattered, fragmented pieces of reality distorting before his eyes. She saw them all. She was responsible for their lives, yet she had let them die. They were all shouting at her, screaming in pain and misery, cursing her for her selfish deeds, and no matter how hard she tried covering her ears, they just got louder and louder, and then suddenly, the glass shattered, sending jagged shards tearing into her flesh. But it wasn't the physical pain that made her scream—it was their words, their eyes, the truth she could no longer escape. Regret clawed at her chest, heavier than the bleeding wounds. She had tried to run from her sins. Now, they had found her. And they were unforgiving. This was her fear the monsters she was terrified of.
Aya smirked.
"You see now?" she said smoothly. "My illusions don't just manipulate sight; they prey on the mind itself. Your own fear is my weapon."
She stepped forward confidently, savoring their torment—until a low, amused laugh cut through the cave.
The sound was wrong.
It was deep, amused, laced with something mocking.
Aya stopped, her chest tightening slightly. The illusion should have consumed all of them.
But there was one figure—still standing, entirely unaffected—watching her with mild amusement.
The woman lifted a hand to her mask, her movements deliberate, calculated. With a single pull, she removed it, revealing the sharp, angular features of a Dark Elf, her violet eyes gleaming with quiet menace.
"You truly are talented," the mage mused, her tone carrying the faintest hint of approval. "To weave nightmares so effortlessly… impressive." She glanced at her subordinates, still trapped in Aya's illusion, then back to her, smirking.
"But I expected more."
Aya stiffened. The words stung in a way she did not anticipate.
The Dark Elf shifted, her presence unwavering despite the chaos around her. Then, she grinned—not with admiration, but with ridicule.
"I suppose I should introduce myself, shouldn't I?" she mused. "You have done well to come this far, so consider this a courtesy."
She stepped forward, her movements unhurried, effortlessly immune to Aya's illusions.
"I am Veyna Al'dorei, mage of the Abyss Order, overseer of this mission, and your harsh lesson in why your magic is not as formidable as you think."
Aya's breath caught.
There was something wrong—something deeply unsettling about Veyna's confidence.
Before she could respond, the cavern shifted.
Her illusions cracked, splintering like glass under unseen pressure. The distorted corridors collapsed, and the suffocating darkness peeled away like layers of thin fabric. The fears she had unleashed on her enemies disintegrated, revealing nothing but the stone walls that had always existed beneath them.
Aya's breath hitched.
Her magic had been undone—not fought, not resisted. Simply removed, as if it had never been there at all.
Veyna observed her reaction, then sighed.
"Fascinating," she murmured. "For someone who claims to manipulate fear, you are remarkably fragile within your own."
And then, without warning—Aya felt the illusion turn against her.
Her mind twisted.
The cave shifted once more, but this time, she was not controlling it.
Cold panic spread through her as the walls changed, the air thickened, and the dim flickers of firelight stretched into something terrifyingly familiar.
Aya recognized this place.
She knew it.
A locked room.
A shadow standing before her.
Her breath hitched painfully.
No.
No, she wouldn't let herself see this. She wouldn't let herself relive this.
But the illusion did not release her.
For the first time, she understood what it meant to be trapped within her own magic.
Just as Aya sank deeper into her own nightmare—Tetsuya attacked.
Tetsuya struck without hesitation. His mana pulsed, the cold mist surrounding him twisting into deadly shards that sliced through the air like daggers.
Veyna snapped her attention away from Aya, her body moving with fluid grace.
She dodged. Effortlessly.
The ice shattered against the stone behind her, the fragments scattering at her feet.
A faint smirk tugged at her lips.
"Predictable," she murmured.
Then, her expression shifted.
She turned her head slightly—searching for her attacker—but Tetsuya was gone.
The mist swirled unnaturally, curling in the air like a phantom.
Veyna's gaze flickered, scanning the space before her, and then—a sharp pain bloomed in her back.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Tetsuya had appeared behind her, pressing a large shard of ice directly through her.
For a brief moment, silence settled in the cave.
Then—Veyna exhaled softly, her expression unreadable.
She did not scream. She did not collapse.
Instead, she studied the shard of ice protruding from her side, then turned her gaze to Tetsuya.
"Interesting," she mused.
She reached up, gripping the ice with slow, deliberate movements—then shattered it like fragile glass.
The pieces crumbled at her feet, vanishing as the cave's warmth returned.
Veyna tilted her head.
"You're clever," she admitted. "You took my attention away with a front-facing attack and used your ability to dissolve into cold mist—tiny, nearly invisible fragments—reassembling behind me for a fatal strike."
She sighed thoughtfully, placing a hand over the wound that was no longer there.
"But unfortunately," she murmured, "it's not enough."
Tetsuya's instincts screamed.
He leaped back, twisting mid-air—just in time to avoid the dagger that would have pierced his throat. He then attacked while still mid air
"Dark frost slash," he said activating a strike as large shards od ice with dark veins lunged towards Veyna at a terrific speed.
Veyna's smirk widened slightly. Gracefully, she dodged the large shards of ice, then broke the last one with her little fingers long nail. The sight of this made Tetsuya startled. That was among his powerful attacks, and this was evident by the large shards behind Veyna all large enough to cover a quarter of the whole place
"You adapt quickly," she mused, watching him land, "but let's see how long that lasts."
Her expression shifted—the amusement fading, replaced with cold precision.
She was done playing.
Tetsuya lunged, summoning a storm of ice—jagged shards twisting into a blizzard, aiming straight for her.
Veyna vanished.
Not dodged—vanished.
And then—she appeared beside him, her lips close to his ear.
"Too slow." she said her nail gently trickling down her cheek for a moment.
Her knee struck his abdomen with violent force, sending him crashing downward, his body slamming against the frozen ground.
Tetsuya coughed sharply, the impact rattling through his ribs. Pain rushed all over his back.
Veyna floated down gently, her presence effortless compared to his struggle.
She lifted her hand, exposing a large spherical orb, its surface pulsing with dark mana. The cavern trembled at its presence.
Veyna sighed. "Unfortunately, I have other matters to attend to. As much fun as this has been, I have what I came for."
She lifted her hand—snapping her fingers.
The two attackers trapped in Aya's illusion suddenly gasped, their eyes clearing, the spell dissolving as they regained their footing.They were both breathing hard.
Tetsuya pushed himself up weakly, his limbs shaking.
Veyna glanced at him. "Do not strain yourself, unless you want to die. You used up your mana in that last attack. You won't be able to cast another spell."
Tetsuya clenched his teeth. He knew she was right. The truth of it hurt.
Aya, slowly recovering, stood beside him—her body exhausted, her mind fractured. Hatred and fear twisted inside her as she gazed at Veyna.
But she knew—Veyna had told them nothing but the truth.
They were weak.
They were not ready.
They had lost.
Footsteps echoed through the cave.
Veyna sighed, turning toward the sound. "Seems my time is up."
One of her operatives, still bitter from his earlier humiliation, opened a portal, the swirling abyss waiting for them.
Veyna stepped through without hesitation before the portal snapped shut.
General Nari Hagarami and his warriors burst through the ice blockade, their movements suddenly sluggish, their breath coming out in visible wisps. Their eyes widened from what they were seeing. A battlefield as scary as this
The temperature in the cave had plummeted. Frost clung to the stone walls, jagged ice formations sprawled across the battlefield, and the lingering remnants of Aya and Tetsuya's mana still churned through the space, keeping the air unnaturally cold.
Aya and Tetsuya stood there, breathless, defeated.
The Lizardmen warriors instinctively curled their claws inward, their movements uneasy as they adjusted to the unfamiliar chill. Cold-blooded by nature, their bodies struggled against the sudden drop in temperature, forcing them to stiffen slightly as the icy grip of the environment settled over them.
Nari slowed his pace, his golden eyes scanning the transformed cavern with quiet awe. The battlefield looked unlike anything Halven had ever seen—a frozen grave of shattered illusions and lingering shadows, a contrast of power, where ice and deception had clashed against the overwhelming force of the Abyss Order.
The general took a slow breath, his exhale curling into the cold air. He turned to Aya and Tetsuya, his expression unreadable.
"What happened here?" his voice echoed through the cave.
Aya and Tetsuya stood motionless, exhaustion weighing heavy on their forms. Aya pressed her fingers against her temple, willing herself to steady her breathing. Tetsuya, still stiff from the pain in his ribs, managed to hold himself upright.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, Aya let out a quiet, bitter laugh.
"We were weak," she admitted.
Tetsuya exhaled sharply, nodding in agreement a smile on his face. "They outmatched us completely."
Silence followed. But seeing the two accept defeat with smiles on their faces sent chills all over the general and his men.
Nari frowned slightly, his sharp gaze flicking toward the battlefield once more—then to the thick sheets of ice, the frozen debris still clinging to every surface, the unnatural chill in the air, which continued to bite at his warriors.
His men exchanged uncertain glances, their discomfort evident. The frost gripped their scales, slowing their movements, making them feel unnaturally drained—a weakness that was entirely foreign to them. The longer they stayed here the more their bodies prepared to go for hibernation especially the Lamias.
Nari chuckled lowly, shaking his head.
"Weak?" he mused, his breath fogging before him. "Interesting choice of words."
The irony was not lost on him.
Aya and Tetsuya, despite their undeniable defeat, had left behind a battlefield so altered, so scary, so powerful, that even the warriors were struggling to stand comfortably in its aftermath.
Weakness should not have reshaped an entire environment.
And yet, their power had done just that.
Back at the human lands, Tanaki had also managed to adapt in the new world and was even in good terms with both his party members and the villagers.
Learning more about his ability to see mana and the status windows of other beings had made Tanaki a valuable asset to the Sarel Guild. His unique skill allowed the party to react with unmatched precision, ensuring smoother dungeon raids and higher success rates.
Yet, despite his usefulness, the reality remained—he was weak.
Every battle was a reminder of the glaring gap between him and his party members.
Razid, their nimble elven leader, fought with unmatched finesse, dodging attacks with an elegance that made battle feel like a dance. Akari Kato, a mage of the First Order, wielded magic as if it were woven into her very essence—effortless, commanding, devastatingly precise. Hakimi's shield was a fortress, an unshakable wall between them and death, deflecting blows that would have crushed anyone else. Sarl was unwavering, his sheer strength carving paths through enemy ranks like a force of nature and what was more amazing was the way he healead the others while still fighting.
And Tanaki?
Tanaki was always the one being protected. Something that made him fell more of a burden.
Today's raid had gone smoothly—his ability to read enemy mana and status had once again proven invaluable. His voice had guided them, ensuring every attack counted, keeping the group one step ahead.
But none of it made him feel stronger.
None of it changed what he already knew.
"I guess this will be all for today," Razid announced as the team gathered the last of their spoils.
Tanaki worked tirelessly, collecting as many magic crystals as he could, hoping—desperately—to contribute in some way. His fingers tightened around the stones, his movements almost too quick, too eager.
"Please, rest. I'll do the collection," he pleaded.
Akari chuckled, flicking her fingers lazily. In an instant, the remaining crystals levitated, drifting effortlessly into their bags.
"Stop worrying yourself, boy," she said, amused.
Tanaki hesitated, watching the hovering crystals settle into place as if mocking his hard effort. He swallowed, turning silently to put away the few spoils he had managed to collect with his own hands.
Then—movement.
A flicker of shadow.
Before he could react—a goblin attacked.
The creature lunged with a snarl, its jagged blade descending in a brutal arc.
Instinctively, Tanaki dropped the crystals, his hands moving on their own, unsheathing his blade just in time to block the strike—but the impact rattled through his bones.
Too strong.
His feet slid backward, boots scraping against stone. The sheer force of the blow forced his arms down, making his muscles scream in protest.
The goblin grinned wickedly, sensing his struggle, its blade pressing deeper against his trembling defense.
Tanaki sucked in a breath—and that was the moment the goblin struck again.
Too fast.
Too powerful.
The blade sliced downward, ready to carve into flesh—
And then—crash.
A thunderous force sent the goblin soaring through the air, its body colliding violently against the dungeon wall. It crumpled, lifeless.
Tanaki blinked, breath ragged, his fingers still wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword—but now his arms shook.
Hakimi stood before him, shield still raised, steam rising from the sheer impact of his counterattack.
"You good?" Hakimi asked, glancing down at him.
Tanaki swallowed. "...Yeah. Thanks."
Hakimi smirked, offering a hand.
Tanaki grasped it, pulling himself up.
But even as he stood—even as he let himself breathe—something settled deep inside him.
Weakness.
His legs felt unsteady. His fingers still trembled around the hilt of his sword.
He had been saved.
Protected.
And not because of skill.
Not because of strategy.
Not because he had earned survival.
He had simply been too slow and weak.
Tanaki looked around at his party, watching how they moved effortlessly, watching how they handled battle like second nature, watching how none of them had needed saving.
Even with his ability, even with all his knowledge—what had it meant for him?
Nothing.
As Razid gathered the spoils, Tanaki remained silent, his gaze locked onto his hands.
I was a burden.
Even as they returned to the guild, even as their companions greeted them, even as villagers waved excitedly, Tanaki felt it settle in his chest like an unshakable weight.
If Hakimi hadn't been there, he would have died.
The laughter, the warmth, and the bond he shared with his party were precious.
But could he truly be part of them if he wasn't strong enough to stand on his own?
The answer weighed on him.
Hirose Diner buzzed with warmth, the scent of roasting meat and freshly baked bread wafting through the air, mingling with the chatter of guild members celebrating another successful raid. The evening light flickered across wooden tables, illuminating plates stacked with hearty meals and tankards clinking in friendly exchange.
Among the gathered adventurers, Tanaki sat comfortably, his exhaustion momentarily pushed aside by the lively hum of the diner. On his thigh, Harimi sat proudly, her small hands gripping his arm as she beamed up at him, eyes wide with delight.
"Tanaki, will you play with me tomorrow?" she asked eagerly, her voice carrying that bright innocence only a child could possess.
Tanaki smiled, ruffling her dark hair. "Of course, Harimi," he replied gently, watching her giggle in triumph. He loved the way she giggled, giving a cute expression.
Across the table, Sarl smirked over his drink, his keen eyes flicking toward Razid, who sat just a little too still, just a little too aware of Tanaki's interaction with the girl.
"Oi," Sarl mused, his tone dripping with mischief. "Looks like someone's making a move while you're watching, Razid."
Razid froze. Then, a blur of motion.
Her hand struck with practiced precision, smacking Sarl's head with enough force to send him toppling off his chair. His beer mug tumbled, the liquid splashing across his chest as he landed in an ungraceful heap on the floor.
The entire diner erupted into laughter.
Even Hakimi grinned, leaning back as he watched Sarl groan dramatically, wiping foam off his face.
"Wait, Razid—why are you all red?" Hakimi teased, his voice carrying just the right amount of amusement.
Razid ducked her head, her entire face a deep shade of crimson, her fingers twitching as she struggled to come up with a proper response.
Tanaki blinked, genuinely confused. "Uh… are you okay?"
Akari, resting her chin on her palm, watched Razid with barely concealed amusement.
"Oh, she's fine," Akari smirked, her voice laced with amusement. "Just head over heels."
Razid groaned, turning further away, burying herself deeper into her own humiliation.
Tanaki chuckled softly, shaking his head at the chaos surrounding him.
And yet, as the laughter continued, as the voices of his guild swirled around him like a warm embrace, the weight in his chest remained unshaken.
No matter how welcomed he was, no matter how much he belonged in moments like these, his failure in the dungeon still lingered like a shadow.
Hidden. Silent. Unrelenting.
Tanaki sat quietly in the open field the following day, the crisp morning breeze tousling his hair as he stared absently ahead. His thoughts drifted back to the dungeon—the weight of his helplessness pressing down on him like heavy chains. No matter how much he helped strategize, no matter how valuable his ability to read mana was, he still couldn't fight.
He sighed, gripping the hilt of his sword, feeling the familiar frustration settle in his chest.
Then, soft footsteps approached.
"Tanaki!"
He turned, eyes widening slightly as he spotted Harimi running toward him, a small bundle of freshly picked flowers clutched tightly in her little hands. The sunlight caught the petals, soft shades of violet and white, freshly bloomed.
She stopped before him, her face glowing with warmth as she held the flowers up.
"These are for you!" she said cheerfully.
Tanaki blinked, taken aback. "For me?"
Harimi nodded eagerly. "Because you're always trying to be there for me! You go into the scary dungeon all the time to keep everyone safe, and you always play with me, even when you're tired." Her small hands pressed the flowers toward him, as if making sure he understood. "So you deserve something nice, too!"
Something in Tanaki's chest tightened.
He slowly reached out, taking the delicate flowers from her hands, feeling their soft petals against his fingertips.
For a moment, the heaviness in his heart lifted—if only just a little.
A genuine smile tugged at his lips. "Thank you, Harimi," he said gently.
Harimi grinned, satisfied, before taking his hand and tugging playfully. "Come on! We should go back now!"
Tanaki let out a soft chuckle, rising to his feet. "ok, Harimi,"
As they made their way back, the village came into full view—a sight that had once been unfamiliar but now felt like home.
Since its restoration after the Abyss Order's attack, the village had become livelier than ever. The streets bustled with movement as merchants arranged their goods, children laughed while chasing each other between market stalls, and the scent of fresh bread and sizzling meat filled the air.
As soon as Tanaki entered the village, greetings echoed from every direction.
"Tanaki, welcome back!"
"Good work in the dungeon today!"
A vendor waved enthusiastically. "Here, take a few apples! You help keep the monsters at bay, it's the least we can do."
Another merchant grinned, tossing him a small satchel of dried herbs. "Don't argue, just take it. You do more for us than you realize."
Tanaki accepted their gifts, feeling a rare warmth settle within him. These people had come to accept him, not as the weakest hero, but as one of their own.
"So, Tanaki," a blacksmith smirked. "Since when did you get yourself a new girlfriend?"
Tanaki blinked in confusion until he felt Harimi tighten her grip on his hand.
"Wait, what?"
Several villagers laughed, exchanging knowing glances.
"Oh, come on, you two are always together."
"She even gives you flowers now. What's next? Marriage?"
Harimi pouted, stomping her foot. "You guys are mean!" she said, her cheeks flushed.
The teasing escalated, Razid, who had walked ahead, overheard it and turned red, immediately hiding her face. So a six-year-old girl was stealing her Tanaki
Tanaki sighed, rubbing his temple. "You all are impossible."
Despite the teasing, despite everything, Tanaki felt at home. For the first time since being reincarnated, he belonged.
The evening glow spilled through the windows of Hirose Diner, casting a warm, golden hue over the bustling space. As usual, the scent of sizzling meats and freshly baked bread mingled with the laughter and chatter of adventurers unwinding after a long day of dungeon raids filled the diner. Tanaki sat comfortably at his table, while Harimi curled up on his lap, nibbling a piece of fruit as she kicked her legs absentmindedly. The familiar warmth of the diner, the teasing banter, the casual camaraderie, wrapped around him like a brief, comforting embrace.
Suddenly, the serene atmosphere was shattered as the diner's door swung open forcefully, drawing the attention of nearly everyone inside.
Akari strode in, her mage robes slightly askew and her auburn hair a disheveled testament to long hours of research. Her amber eyes immediately locked onto Tanaki, lighting up with a mix of relief and urgency.
"Tanaki!" she called out, her voice both excited and desperate, as if he were the missing piece she had been waiting for. She practically glided toward him, coming to a halt beside the table with her hands clasped together in a dramatic plea.
"I'm so glad you're here! I need your help urgently."
Tanaki raised an eyebrow.
"What kind of help?" he asked, cautious yet curious.
With a soft tilt of her head, Akari's expression softened into an almost irresistible pout, her wide eyes employing that unmistakable puppy-dog tactic. Tanaki stiffened. At that moment, Harimi clung tighter to his arm, puffing her cheeks in annoyance.
"That's not fair!" she whined. "You're taking my Tanaki away!"
Akari chuckled lightly. "Oh, come now, Harimi—I just need him for a little while."
Sighing in defeat, Tanaki replied, "Alright, alright. What do you need?"
Akari beamed in triumph. "I need some herbs from the forest near the dungeon for an experiment. If you can gather them before dark, it'll save me a lot of trouble!" She handed him a small woven basket, a symbol of the task ahead.
Harimi's pout deepened, and with arms crossed in defiance, she grumbled about Akari being the meanest mage ever. With one last, dramatic glance at Harimi's frustrated expression, Tanaki set off, determined to complete the task before nightfall.
As Tanaki disappeared through the diner doors, Sarl entered. His boots clicked lightly against the wooden floor as he eyed the scene. Settling into Tanaki's now-empty seat, he remarked, "You sent him off on an errand?"
Akari smirked. "Of course. I needed the herbs, and he was perfectly available."
"You're exploiting him," Sarl commented with a wry chuckle, shaking his head.
"I'm making him feel useful," Akari defended, absently stirring her drink. "He always struggles to prove himself, so I give him a way to contribute."
Sarl studied her thoughtfully. "You've noticed how hard he tries, haven't you?"
Akari nodded slowly. "Yeah… But more than that, have you seen how much Razid cares for him?"
Sarl snorted in amusement. "Oh, that's obvious."
They both chuckled as they sipped their drinks, the lively energy of the diner continuing around them, oblivious to the ominous events unfolding elsewhere.
Deep in the forest, silence reigned. Only the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hum of insects marked the passage of time as Tanaki crouched amidst the undergrowth, methodically placing the last of the collected herbs into his basket. Every motion was deliberate, ensuring not a single herb would be damaged. The task was complete, and with a soft exhale, he brushed dust from his sleeves—ready to return.
Then something changed.
A slow, unsettling pulse began to vibrate through the stillness. Tanaki's heart skipped a beat as a presence, unnatural and consuming, made itself known. His body tensed; instinctively, his vision sharpened, his latent ability activating before his mind could even comprehend what was happening.
And then he saw it.
Dark, restless mana hovered in the air like a barely perceptible mist. This was no ordinary residual magic or dungeon energy, it was something entirely different, something that beckoned him with a dangerous allure. Tanaki's breath hitched, and his fingers clenched the basket tighter. Every instinct screamed at him to retreat, to flee, and report what he'd discovered. But the dark mana's pull was inescapable, drawing him forward. Each step sank him deeper into its ominous presence, the world around him dissolving into a disconcerting haze.
Before he could resist any longer, he found himself standing at the entrance of the dungeon. A moment of hesitation gripped him—he knew he should leave. And yet, the magnetic energy demanded he continue.
Stepping cautiously into the dimly lit corridor, Tanaki felt the mana's pull intensify with every step. The deeper he ventured, the stronger the inexplicable magnetism became. Then, suddenly, his foot sank into the ground with a soft, almost inaudible click.
The earth trembled. Ancient stone markings beneath his feet flared into life, intricate and pulsating with red light, a magic circle unlike any other. Panic seized him. He tried to step back, but it was too late. The magic circle erupted violently, whipping the surrounding air into a chaotic frenzy as an unseen force gripped him, dragging him downward.
In a dizzying blur, the dungeon's surroundings warped, collapsing into a cascade of pure, blinding light. And then—everything was gone. All that remained was his abandoned guild card, lying in eerie silence where he had once stood.
Miles away, in the opulent capital palace, Duke Garrin Morvain lounged in his lavish chamber. Candlelight danced on his luxurious robes as he idly swirled a goblet half-filled with crimson wine. Cloaked assassins knelt before him, ready to carry out his grim orders.
With a disgusted sigh, Morvain rested his chin on his hand. "That pathetic excuse of a hero, Tanaki Hayashi," he muttered, his voice dripping with contempt.
"A waste of royal funds… a disgrace to the kingdom." His fingers tapped against the rim of the goblet, his tone cold and resolute.
"You will find him," he commanded. "And when you do, kill him. Erase every trace of his existence, along with those who stand by his side."
The assassins bowed deeply and melted back into the shadows. With a smirk, Morvain swirled the last of his wine. "And I will prevail."