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Graphic Depictions Of Violence
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F/M
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Re:ゼロから始める異世界生活 | Re:Zero Starting Life in Another World (Anime)陰の実力者になりたくて! | The Eminence in Shadow (Anime)陰の実力者になりたくて! | The Eminence in Shadow - Aizawa Daisuke (Light Novels)
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Emilia/Natsuki SubaruBeta & Cid KagenouAlpha & Cid KagenouGamma & Cid KagenouNatsuki Subaru/RemBeatrice & Natsuki SubaruNatsuki Subaru/SatellaEmilia & Natsuki SubaruNatsuki Subaru & RamEmilia & Puck (Re:Zero)Reinhard van Astrea & Natsuki SubaruReinhard van Astrea & FeltFelix Argyle | Ferris & Reinhard Van Astrea & Julius Juukulius | Julius EucliusNatsuki Subaru & Otto SuwenRam & Rem (Re:Zero)Crusch Karsten/Fourier LugnicaTheresia van Astrea/Wilhelm van AstreaReinhard Van Astrea & Wilhelm Van AstreaPetra Leyte & Natsuki SubaruFelix Argyle | Ferris & Natsuki SubaruDelta/Cid KagenouDelta & Cid KagenouRam/Cid KagenouPriscilla Barielle & Cid KagenouNatsuki Subaru & Cid Kagenou
Characters:
Natsuki SubaruCid KagenouAlpha (Eminence in Shadow)Delta (Eminence in Shadow)Beta (Eminence in Shadow)Gamma (Eminence in Shadow)Emilia (Re:Zero)Rem (Re:Zero)Ram (Re:Zero)Petra LeytePetelgeuse Romanée-ContiReinhard van AstreaRoswaal L MathersSatella (Re:Zero)Otto SuwenFourier LugnicaPuck (Re:Zero)Felix Argyle | FerrisFelt (Re:Zero)Wilhelm van AstreaTheresia van AstreaAnastasia HoshinPriscilla BarielleCrusch KarstenJulius Juukulius | Julius EucliusAldebaran | Al (Re:Zero)Sphinx (Re:Zero)Echidna the Witch (Re:Zero)Pandora (Re:Zero)Regulus CorneasBeatrice (Re:Zero)Volcanica (Re:Zero)Stride Vollachia
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Isekai and TransmigrationCrossoverCrossover PairingsTime TravelSecond ChancesDestructionCanonical Character DeathTemporary Character DeathCharacter DeathTime LoopDeveloping Relationship
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Published:2025-02-14Updated:2025-11-19Words:231,628Chapters:37/?Comments:1,433Kudos:1,431Bookmarks:159Hits:66,071
Re: Zero Shadow's Legacy
TheLostOrion
Chapter 5: The Archbishop's Gambit, Vollachia Empire
Chapter Text
The weight of silence pressed down on Cid as he sat stiffly at the grand dining table. The luxurious chamber, with its regal ambience and suffocating presence, made it clear—he was in deep trouble.
Judging by the vibes here and how my mana's flowing, this place has to be close to where I was before.
Still not in Midgar.
He could feel the gaze of everyone in the room drilling into him, especially the man seated across from him: Stride Vollachia.
The faint clink of a wine glass being set down was the only sound before Stride leaned forward, his piercing grey eyes locking onto Cid's with an intensity that made the air feel heavier. The eight-armed giant behind him remained motionless, but his sheer presence made escape an impossible thought.
Cid cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. "Uh… so, yeah. I was just passing by," he said with a casual shrug, forcing a grin. "You know, taking a stroll, minding my own business, and—"
Stride cut him off with a single flick of his wrist. "Enough."
Cid got surprised.
Stride exhaled slowly, his tone chillingly composed. "Passing by, you say?" He tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Through locked doors? Past an entire regiment of guards? Into the private dining hall of the Emperor's kin?" His voice was smooth yet razor-sharp. "A bold claim for a liar."
Cid blinked. "Okaaaay, fair point, but—"
"That faint mana of yours," Stride interjected coldly. "Unfamiliar. Untamed. Yet you attempt to feign ignorance, as if you simply 'wandered in.'" His fingers drummed against the table. "Pathetic."
Crap. This guy saw through me instantly.
I have no idea where I am, but it is obvious now—this was no simple misunderstanding.
Stride's cold, calculating gaze shifted to the eight-armed giant behind Cid. The towering figure did not move, but after a moment, his deep, rumbling voice echoed through the chamber.
"I have never seen someone like him around here," the giant stated, his black, soulless eyes fixated on Cid. "It is clear this man is no resident of the Vollachia Empire."
Shit, this is such a tight spot,
Cid thought to himself.
Simply acting like an NPC would be a death wish now.
His expression changed. Crossing his arms, he leaned back slightly and smirked. "And what if I'm not from here?"
The only way out is to bullshit my way through this situation.
He slowly turned his head to face the giant, his smirk unwavering. "What are you going to do about it?"
A tense silence followed, only to be broken by Stride's sudden chuckle. The sound was low, amused, yet undeniably dangerous. His smirk widened as he rested his chin on one hand, eyes gleaming with intrigue.
"So, you finally decide to show your true colours," Stride mused, his tone mocking.
"Good. I was starting to think you were just another insect scurrying where it shouldn't."
Under normal circumstances, I'd find a way to step in as Shadow, but that's against my code. I can't manifest as Shadow more than once in a single day—it would completely ruin the mystique and tension.
The allure depends on restraint.
The silence between them stretched, thick with tension. Then, with a slow smirk, Stride spoke.
"What am I going to do about it?" he echoed, his voice laced with amusement. "You march into my domain, reeking of faint, unknown mana, and now you act as if you belong here?" He let out a short, condescending laugh. "Tell me, do you take me for a fool? Or are you simply suicidal?"
Cid merely shrugged, his smirk unwavering. "Neither. Just a guy who goes where he pleases."
Stride's fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, his gaze darkening. "A man without a master, without allegiance, wandering into places where he shouldn't?" He exhaled sharply, eyes narrowing. "No. That's not carelessness. That's intent."
Cid tilted his head. "Oh? And what do you think my 'intent' is?" His tone was casual, almost playful, though he was well aware he was treading a fine line between amusement and execution.
Stride didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied Cid, his mind racing through possibilities. A spy? An assassin? No—if he were, he wouldn't be this brazen. But if he were truly an idiot who stumbled in…
No. The mana around him was way too faint but unrefined. A beast pretending to be harmless.
"You're testing me," Stride muttered, more to himself than to Cid. "Seeing how I'll react. Weighing your options." His eyes sharpened. "Do you know how many men have tried such tactics before?"
Cid smirked, leaning forward. "Lemme guess… none of them are still breathing?"
Stride chuckled, low and menacing. "Precisely."
Cid spread his arms. "Well, lucky for me, I'm not like them."
Stride's smirk faltered for the briefest moment. That confidence—no, that audacity—it was unnatural. Even faced with death, this man did not break. No desperate pleas, no attempts to flee. As if… he truly believed nothing here could touch him.
That alone made Stride wary.
Stride's grip on his glass tightened slightly. That answer. So simple, yet infuriatingly difficult to dissect. Was he bluffing? Or was this the mark of someone who had seen true horrors?
The eight-armed giant shifted behind Cid, his deep voice rumbling. "Shall I tear him apart? If he does not fear death, we can test that claim."
Cid glanced up at the massive being and smirked. "Careful now. You might not like what you find."
Stride's breath hitched for just a fraction of a second. Not from fear, but from the sheer audacity of those words. Every fibre of his strategic mind told him—this man was either a fool or something far worse.
"Interesting," Stride said finally, his smirk returning, though his eyes remained cold.
Stride's piercing grey eyes bore into Cid, his expression unreadable but his tone sharp as a blade. "You look like you don't fear me," he stated, his voice low and deliberate. "That much is clear. So, tell me, where are you from? Speak plainly, or I'll have my associate here"—he gestured to the eight-armed giant behind Cid—"extract the truth from you in a far less pleasant manner."
Cid leaned back in his chair, his smirk never wavering, though his mind raced.
Huh. Where should I say I'm from?
He scratched his chin, feigning deep thought.
Oh, right. I remember talking with that prince guy the other day about locations. What was that place he mentioned? Ah, yes. That'll do.
With a casual shrug, Cid said, "I'm from a place near the Pleiades Watchtower."
The room fell into a heavy silence.
The air seemed to grow colder, and even the giant behind Cid shifted slightly, his eyes narrowing. Stride's expression darkened, his smirk vanishing as his fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
Suddenly, Stride slammed his hands on the table, the sound echoing through the chamber like a thunderclap. "Do you take me for a fool?!" he roared, his composed demeanour shattering. "The Pleiades Watchtower? You expect me to believe that?!" His voice dripped with venom as he leaned forward, his grey eyes blazing with fury. "If you're going to lie, at least make it convincing!"
Cid blinked, his smirk faltering for just a moment.
Well, that didn't go as planned.
Stride straightened, his voice icy but laced with contempt. "I would sooner believe you're a Temple Knight from the Holy Kingdom of Gusteko than some wanderer from the Pleiades Watchtower. That place is a myth, a legend. No one comes from there—no one can."
The eight-armed giant stepped forward, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. "Shall I dispose of him? His lies are an insult to your intelligence."
Stride held up a hand, silencing the giant. His eyes never left Cid's. "No," he said slowly, his voice low and dangerous. "Not yet. I want to see how far he's willing to take this charade."
He leaned forward again, his smirk returning, though it was colder than before. "Tell me, 'wanderer,' what exactly do you hope to gain by coming here? What is your true purpose?"
Cid crossed his arms, his smirk widening. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Stride leaned back in his chair, his grey eyes narrowing as he studied Cid with renewed interest. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand, the dim light of the chamber glinting off the intricate rings adorning his fingers.
"Do you see these?" Stride asked, his voice low and dangerous. "Each one represents a pact, a bond, a curse. They are not mere ornaments. They are a reminder of what happens to those who lie to me, who waste my time, or who dare to trespass into my domain." His fingers curled into a fist, the rings clinking softly. "You have one last chance to speak plainly. Who are you, and what is your purpose here?"
Cid's eyes flicked to the rings, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, to Stride's surprise, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
Those rings look cool,
Cid thought to himself, his mind racing.
And ominous. Really ominous. This guy's not messing around. It looks like the events in this scenario are about to escalate from 'interrogation with the evil-looking guy' to 'torture with the large-looking one.' I should do something.
Cid's smirk widened, and then, without warning, he began to laugh. It started as a low chuckle, but it quickly escalated into a full-blown, maniacal laugh that echoed through the grand dining hall. His shoulders shook, his head tilted back, and his laughter filled the room with an unsettling energy.
Alright, let's roll the dice on this one—I'm gonna say something, and it's either gonna smooth things over like butter on toast, or the mountain of a dude lurking behind me is gonna turn my skull into a piñata.
Stride's composed demeanour faltered for the first time.
"You truly don't recognize me?" Cid said between laughs, his voice dripping with mockery. "Well, that's to be expected. Our little group is more secretive than most."
Stride's eyes widened further, his mind racing. Our little group? Secretive?
His gaze flicked to the rings on his hand, then back to Cid. The pieces began to click together in his mind, though he refused to believe it—not yet.
"You don't mean…" Stride began, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.
Cid's laughter subsided, and he leaned forward, his smirk turning into a grin. "Yeah. I do."
Stride's breath hitched, and for a moment, the room was utterly silent. He slowly sank back into his chair, his mind reeling. Many of the questions he had about Cid—his audacity, his confidence, and his unfamiliar mana—suddenly seemed to have answers. But those answers were impossible. Weren't they?
"Show me your Gospel," Stride demanded coldly, his voice sharp as a blade. His grey eyes bore into Cid's, searching for any hint of deception. The mention of the Gospel was a test, a way to confirm his suspicions. If Cid truly belonged to that group, he would have one.
Cid's grin didn't waver, though internally, he was scrambling.
Gospel? What the hell is a Gospel?
He had no idea what Stride was talking about, but he couldn't let it show. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms casually.
"Now, now," Cid said, his tone playful. "You know the rules. We don't just show our Gospels to anyone. Not even to someone as… impressive as you."
Stride's jaw tightened, and his fingers drummed against the table. He wasn't convinced—not entirely—but Cid's confidence was unnerving.
If this man truly was affiliated with the Witch's Cult, then the situation was far more dangerous than he had initially thought. The Cult was a shadowy, enigmatic force, and even Stride, with all his power and influence, knew better than to underestimate them.
Stride's smirk twisted into something far more menacing. "If you're truly with the Witch's Cult, then you surely know what it means to stand in the presence of an Archbishop… who represents Pride."
Cid's mind short-circuited for a second.
Archbishop of Pride?
That title…
That title sounded so cool, man.
"Should I bow?"
Stride's fingers drummed against the table, watching him closely. "Not until you show me your Gospel, or your head will indeed fall."
Damn, he's pushy,
Cid thought, resisting the urge to sigh.
He had no clue what this Gospel thing was, but if it was that important, he'd just have to make one himself.
Closing his hand, he focused. A moment later, a writhing black substance oozed from his palm, twisting and solidifying into a pitch-black book. The eerie glow of dark mana pulsed along its edges.
Stride's eyes widened ever so slightly. Even the eight-armed giant behind him tensed.
Cid barely stopped himself from grinning.
The only book that came to mind was the Holy Bible, so I guess it might work out if I don't go into details.
He slowly placed the "Gospel" on the table, resting a hand on it as he met Stride's piercing gaze. "Satisfied?"
Stride exhaled, his eyes scanning the book with renewed caution. The tension in the room thickened.
Then he glanced at the eight-armed giant, who studied the book in Cid's hand for a moment before giving a slow, deliberate nod.
Stride's gaze lingered on Cid for a beat longer before he pushed his chair back and stood up. He walked toward the grand fireplace at the end of the room, the flames casting flickering shadows across the chamber. He stared into the fire, his voice quiet but laced with an unmistakable weight.
"Under which faction do you serve?" he asked. "I can tell it's not mine."
Cid, still seated, blinked.
Huh. That's a good question.
He quickly ran through his mental encyclopedia of nonsense answers before settling on a classic.
The faction of the damned? No, too edgy. The Twilight Cabal? No, too try-hard. The Lost Order? Eh, sounds mysterious enough.
He let out a slow, deliberate sigh and leaned back. "I was sent by a certain… individual," he mused, his voice carrying a deliberate coldness. "A man who doesn't quite walk like others. Or talk like others. Or, well… move like a normal person at all."
Stride's head snapped toward him, his expression shifting from curiosity to immediate disgust.
Cid continued, oblivious to the reaction. "He's a bit of a weirdo, honestly."
Stride's eye twitched. His fingers curled into fists.
"Lemme guess," Cid added. "You two aren't exactly on good terms?"
Stride exhaled sharply, his patience wearing thin. "That wretched lunatic." His voice was laced with venom. "Of all the miserable, shrivelled excuses for humanity, it had to be that dog sending messages."
Stride turned fully, his grey eyes now burning with fury. "Tell me, what nonsense does Petelgeuse of Sloth wish to waste my time with?"
Oh crap, was that an actual person? Petelgeuse?
Cid kept his expression unreadable, though internally, he was sweating.
Alright, Cid. Think. If that guy's a lunatic, then I just need to say something equally unhinged.
He closed his eyes briefly, then let his smirk widen ever so slightly. "His message?" He paused for dramatic effect. "Simple."
The room seemed to shrink as Stride's gaze bore into him, waiting.
Cid exhaled, his voice dropping into something dark and foreboding.
"The burden of the unloved shall be severed, and the lamentations of the false shall echo through the void."
Silence.
Stride's expression barely changed, but something in his eyes flickered. The giant behind him shifted slightly, his presence growing heavier.
Then, after a long pause, Stride exhaled sharply through his nose. "Hmph." His lips curled into a twisted smirk. "That madman always did have a flair for melodrama."
Stride turned away, once more gazing into the fire. The crackling flames danced in his reflection, his mind racing with possibilities.
Then, after a moment, he spoke again.
"I don't care for his riddles, nor do I care for whatever game he's playing." His voice was cold, decisive. "But I also do not care for your presence."
Cid raised an eyebrow.
Stride's smirk widened, his voice carrying a deadly edge. "I will give you a generous countdown. If you are still here when I finish, you will be removed from this world in ways not even history will recall."
Cid blinked. "So, like, a five-second head start or—"
Stride's voice turned razor-sharp.
"Three."
Cid tensed.
"Two."
Crap, crap, crap—
"One."
Cid vanished.
Stride exhaled sharply, his patience thinning, and raised his hand. At his signal, the soft, haunting melody of a violin began to fill the chamber once more.
The eight-armed giant stood motionless for a moment before stepping forward, his black, soulless eyes still lingering on the space where Cid had been.
"What should we do about him?"
Stride remained silent for a few moments, swirling the dark liquid in his wine glass before taking a slow sip. His smirk returned, though tinged with something between amusement and irritation.
"I would have loved to torment him as much as you do," he admitted, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. "But… that might lead to an unnecessary feud with the other Archbishops." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And none of us are the type to settle things like civilized men at a table."
The giant let out a low, rumbling chuckle, his massive arms crossing over his chest. "That boy didn't look exactly normal himself."
Stride's smirk deepened as he turned back toward the fire, watching the flames flicker and twist. "No, he wasn't. He was hiding something." His fingers drummed lightly against the armrest of his chair. "But for now, I'll let it slide. My focus remains on Lugunica."
The giant nodded. "The civil war there is at its peak." His tone carried a note of excitement. "I'd love to take part in it."
Stride chuckled, setting his wine glass down with a soft clink. "Relax. We'll have our fair share of excitement soon enough." His gaze darkened, his smirk turning into something far more sinister. "We just need to be patient."
The violin's melody swelled, its haunting tune filling the grand hall as the flames in the fireplace crackled—casting shadows that danced like spectres of the chaos yet to come.
Somewhere not far away...
Cid walked through the dimly lit alley, his sharp eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. The tall, gothic-style buildings loomed over him, their dark, weathered stones exuding an eerie presence. The streets were damp, the cobblestones slick from a recent rain, and the faint scent of something foreign lingered in the air.
"If the capital I used to live in was grand and extravagant, then this place…" He paused, taking in the ominous architecture, the flickering lanterns, and the heavy atmosphere. "…is the complete opposite."
He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. "Where the heck am I now?"
As he continued walking, his thoughts raced. This wasn't Japan. It wasn't Midgar. It wasn't even close to anywhere he had ever been before. But one thing was certain—this place was brimming with unknowns.
"Guess my background character persona has to get mixed with some people from around here in order to get info," he muttered to himself, adjusting his posture into something more unassuming.
But just as he was about to take another step, his instincts flared. A quick movement in the shadows.
He took another step. A second movement, opposite the first.
His eyes narrowed slightly. It was fast—too fast for an average person to notice. But for someone like him, for the epitome of being a shadow… it was clear as day.
"An ambush?" he mused under his breath, barely containing his amusement. "How amusing."
But then another thought crossed his mind.
"…Or could it be Zeta? She likes to mess around before appearing in front of me."
Testing the waters, he kept walking. The movement increased, shifting around him like whispers in the dark.
With a calm, deliberate motion, he turned, keeping one hand in his pocket. His voice remained steady, cold, but laced with amusement.
"I could've sworn there were a whole unit of shinobi coming for my head," he said, eyes scanning the dark corners of the alley. "If I wasn't familiar with your tricks."
Silence.
Cid's expression didn't waver. He simply stood there, waiting, patience unwavering.
Then, he let out a sigh.
"You move like a veteran," he commented, his voice low. "Creeping through blind spots, shifting your weight carefully to avoid detection, aiming precisely for my vital points. Judging by the way you adjusted your stance after I noticed you, you're no ordinary assassin."
The silence stretched for another second. Then—
A dry chuckle echoed from the shadows. A raspy, aged laugh that sent a strange, unnatural chill down the alley.
Cid's eyes gleamed.
Interesting.
A kunai whistled through the air, cutting through the silence like a blade through silk. Its trajectory was flawless, a perfect assassination strike aimed at Cid's throat.
But he didn't even blink.
With an almost lazy motion, his hand flicked up from his pocket, and two fingers snapped shut around the kunai's handle, halting its deadly flight just an inch from his neck.
He let out a small hum of amusement. "Huh."
Then, his instincts flared again.
Something—someone—was coming from behind. Fast.
Cid moved in an instant. His body twisted fluidly, the kunai now reversed in his grip. Another blade aimed straight for his spine, barely having time to close the distance before Cid's own kunai was already at the attacker's throat.
The assailant froze.
The cold steel of the kunai pressed against their neck, halting their movement completely. The dim alley lights revealed an unexpected sight—a short, wrinkled man stooped over with a deceptively small frame. His thick, long eyebrows nearly covered his yellow eyes, which gleamed with something ancient and cunning. His black hair flowed back, and he wore a black-and-white suit that resembled a kimono.
Cid, still holding his kunai steady, blinked.
This guy is not Zeta.
Then his thoughts caught up with him, and he frowned slightly.
Who the fuck is this man?
The man didn't move, his gaze locked onto Cid with a curious glint. Then, after a beat, he let out a slow, raspy chuckle.
"Well, I'll be damned." His voice was rough yet carried an oddly lighthearted tone. "Ain't nobody ever put me in check like that—not even when I was a young'un. But here ya are, not even a half of my age, not just noticin' me… but counterin' my ambush."
Cid kept his kunai at the man's throat, but internally, he was running damage control.
Crap. If this guy gets the impression that I'm actually strong, it'll just cause more trouble.
Feigning nonchalance, he shrugged. "Maybe you're just getting rusty in your age."
The man's grin widened, his yellow eyes gleaming with something dangerous.
"Or maybe…" His voice dropped to something quieter, more measured. "…yer nothin' like the people I've encountered till now."
Cid kept his expression neutral, but his mind was already spinning.
This guy isn't normal.
The man let out a slow, knowing chuckle and withdrew his blade, tucking it away beneath the folds of his black-and-white attire. He took a step back, his expression unreadable.
"Well, guess I lost that one," he muttered, rolling his shoulders. "Ain't every day an someone like me gets bested by a young'un."
Seeing the man retreat, Cid flipped the kunai in his hand before slipping it away. "I guess I was just lucky," he said with a shrug. "You're too good, old man."
The man snorted, shaking his head. "Heh. Luck, he says. Kid, if luck could outmatch experience, I'd have keeled over a long time ago." His face creased into a grin. "Still, gotta hand it to ya—you ain't normal."
He turned slightly, his yellow eyes narrowing ever so slightly,
My instincts were right. This kid's somethin' else.
Meanwhile, Cid was screaming internally.
Goddammit. Maybe I should just admit I'm not from here and never step foot in this place again. Just like selecting the bad option in a game, seeing its outcome, and then deleting that save.
But for now, he had to play it cool. Letting out an awkward chuckle, he scratched the back of his head. "I'm, uh, not really from around here. Got a bit lost."
The man gave him a long look before scoffing. "Yeah, I figured as much." He crossed his arms. "Where exactly are you from, then?"
Cid opened his mouth, about to say "Pleiades Watchtower," but then froze.
The last time he mentioned that, Stride looked at him like he had just talked about Gehenna. Best not to repeat that mistake.
Thinking fast, he quickly pivoted. "Lugunica," he said with a slight cough. "Doesn't that ring a bell?"
The man suddenly burst out laughing, a deep, amused chuckle that echoed through the alley. "Of course it does! What kind of person doesn't know the Kingdom of Lugunica?"
Cid blinked.
That would be me.
But instead of reacting, he quickly shifted gears. If he wanted to get on this guy's good side, flattery was the way to go. "You know, wise man, you're sharp. Real sharp. Bet you've seen a lot in your time."
The man smirked. "Flattery ain't gonna get ya anywhere, kid."
Worth a shot.
Still, Cid pressed on. "Then, wise elder, could you, by chance, point me in the direction of this great kingdom?" He said it with as much politeness as he could muster, even throwing in a slight bow for effect.
The man narrowed his eyes at him. "Yer tellin' me… you don't even know where Lugunica is?"
Cid forced out a sheepish chuckle. "Let's just say… I've been traveling for a long time. Maps aren't my strong suit."
The man stared at him for a long moment, clearly trying to figure him out. Then, with a sigh, he raised a hand and pointed toward the west. "That way. If ya keep walkin' long enough, you'll hit the kingdom's borders."
Cid followed his finger, nodding. "Got it. Thanks, old man."
As the man watched him go, a faint smirk lingered on his lips. "Strange kid," he muttered to himself. "Could be a liar. Could be a fool. But somethin' tells me… he's neither."
As Cid walked away, the man let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
"Y'know, kid…" he mused, his voice carrying an ominous weight.
Cid's steps slowed slightly.
"...I actually feel kinda bad for ya."
The moment those words left his lips, a distinct shing echoed through the alley as he unsheathed his blade once more. A thin, deadly kunai gleamed under the dim lantern light.
"But I can't just let someone like you wander around like this."
Before Cid could turn, the man lunged—his movement instantaneous. Faster than before, sharper, more decisive. This time, he wasn't testing Cid. He was going for a kill.
The blade struck.
A direct hit.
Cid's body jerked slightly as the kunai plunged into his side. The man's grin widened—only for it to shatter as black smoke suddenly exploded from the wound.
"Tch!" The man jumped back, waving his free hand through the thick, unnatural fog. "Pullin' tricks on me, huh?"
The thick smoke clung to the air, swirling unnaturally before dispersing all at once.
And then—
The man froze.
Right in front of him, where Cid should have been, lay nothing but a single, unassuming piece of wood. The kunai had embedded itself deep into it.
"Huh?" His yellow eyes widened slightly, his grip tightening on his weapon. "Substitution technique? Nah… I woulda noticed. Then… what the hell…?"
Silence settled over the alley.
No sign of Cid.
Nothing.
Just the faint echo of the wind whistling through the buildings.
After a long beat, the man let out a low, amused chuckle, rubbing his chin. "Heh… Well, well." His smirk widened.
"To think someone would outsmart Olbart Dunkelkenn twice..."
With Cid...
As Cid walked along a dirt path in the middle of an open field, he let out a sigh, shaking his head.
"He really thought he could just silence me like that." His voice was laced with amusement. Then, with a smirk, he muttered, "Amateurs. You either target someone with time and preparation… or just push your luck and try to look cool."
He stopped walking for a moment, rubbing his chin. "That guy did neither." A dry chuckle escaped him. "Who even pays these guys? To act, maybe?"
Just as he finished speaking, a low grumble rumbled through the field.
Cid glanced down at his stomach. "…Good. Now I'm hungry."
He looked around, taking in the scenery—the golden fields stretching endlessly under the afternoon sun, the occasional tree swaying gently in the wind.
"I was planning to take a walk for aesthetics, y'know," he muttered, crossing his arms. "But my stomach is saying to go back to the main quest."
His gaze shifted to the horizon, where distant mountains barely peeked over the land.
"That old man said the kingdom is that way." He narrowed his eyes. "Guess we'll make a shortcut."
With that, Cid got into position. His stance lowered, his muscles tensed—then, in an instant, he launched himself skyward.
The world blurred beneath him as he shot through the sky like a comet, wind howling past his ears.
—
Meanwhile, at the Vollachia's border, a group of imperial guards stood at their posts when one of them suddenly flinched, his eyes widening.
"…Did the Emperor order an attack on Lugunica?"
His fellow guard turned to him, frowning. "Don't be stupid. We can't just attack them like that."
Yet, their eyes remained locked on the streak of motion in the sky—something fast, something not normal.
—
At the Lugunica border, knights patrolling the area noticed the disturbance as well.
"Is that… provocation from the Vollachia Empire?" one muttered, gripping his spear.
His comrade scoffed. "Don't be stupid. They're not fools. If they attacked, Volcanica would destroy them on sight."
Still, both sides remained tense, watching as a lone figure soared across the sky—heading straight for the heart of Lugunica.
—
And Cid?
Cid was just looking for a meal.
As Cid descended, the air roared past him, and the golden fields of Lugunica blurred beneath his feet. The capital city soon came into view—a vast sprawl of stone buildings, towering walls, and winding streets.
With a smooth twist in the air, he adjusted his trajectory, aiming for an empty-looking building near the city's outskirts. The structure was worn down, its wooden beams weathered, and the windows shattered. It didn't take a genius to tell it had been abandoned for a long time.
Crash!
He landed with a controlled impact, his boots kicking up dust as the floorboards groaned beneath him. He took a quick glance around.
No people. No guards rushing in. No alarms blaring.
"Well, that went smoothly," Cid muttered to himself, brushing off his coat.
He stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders. "Alright. Next step—find a good, cozy tavern."
With that, he strolled out of the abandoned building and into the streets, expecting to see the lively hustle and bustle of a capital.
Instead, what greeted him was… different.
The city's layout felt off. Some buildings stood where they shouldn't have been, while others were completely missing. The streets, which should've been filled with merchants, adventurers, and common folk, had only a few figures moving through them—quiet, cautious, and tense.
Cid narrowed his eyes. "If my memory was like that of a goldfish, I'd say this place was in a state of war."
His pace quickened as he headed toward the tavern district.
But when he arrived—
Every tavern was shut down.
Doors were barred. Windows were boarded up. Not a single drunkard or bard in sight. The lively, rowdy atmosphere that taverns should have was completely absent.
Cid folded his arms. "Okay, either happy hour ended forever, or something really bad happened here."
As Cid scanned the eerily quiet streets, his sharp eyes caught sight of a lone patrolman—a knight in dented armor, gripping his spear tightly as he moved with a tense, purposeful stride.
Bingo.
Without wasting time, Cid adjusted his posture, adopting the slightly clueless but well-meaning demeanor of an everyday civilian. He quickly made his way toward the guard.
"Hey, uh, excuse me!" Cid called out, raising a hand as he approached. "What exactly happened around here?"
The knight came to a sudden halt and turned his gaze toward Cid. His tired, bloodshot eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion.
"...Are you drunk? High? Or are you just some idiot messing with me?" the guard snapped, gripping his spear tighter.
Cid blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "I—" He struggled for a response. "I'm none of those, actually—"
"Then what the hell are you, some kind of damn fool?" the knight barked, clearly frustrated. He let out a bitter laugh before spitting on the ground. "The whole damn kingdom is in a state of civil war, you moron! The damn demi-humans finally snapped, and now we're all up to our necks in blood and chaos!"
A civil war?
Cid barely held back his expression from shifting.
I was only gone for like a day, and the events in this place advanced that fast?
His eye twitched slightly.
Is this what it feels like when you skip a cutscene and suddenly get thrown into the final boss fight?
The guard sneered at him. "Listen, you either march your sorry ass to enlist in the army and fight for the kingdom, or you go home, lock the damn door, and pray that your family ain't torn apart by the time this mess is over!"
He took a step closer, his glare turning even sharper.
"This is war, boy! Not some fairy tale where you can prance around like a clueless idiot!" The knight scoffed before shaking his head. "Tch, Volcanica help us if we have more fools like you running around."
With that, he stomped off, muttering curses under his breath.
Meanwhile, Cid just stood there, staring after him.
Well… this just got more interesting.
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