The Cost of Ignoring Warnings
The soreness didn't leave Ruko's body when he woke up that day. It settled in instead, quiet and persistent, like a reminder that his luck had limits. He moved carefully that morning, stretching his shoulders, rolling his neck, testing his legs before standing fully upright. Nothing snapped, nothing screamed—but everything complained. Good enough.
Kazuma noticed immediately. "You're walking weird lately since yesterday." "Weil it must've been i slept wrong," Ruko replied without thinking. Kazuma squinted. "For four days straight my guy?" "Yeah, what a talent i had," Ruko said flatly. Kazuma accepted that explanation with the tired resignation of someone who had long since stopped questioning reality. "Well I'm going to the guild. You wanna join." "Yeah sure, seems like theirs nothing to do here anyway."
They headed to the Adventurers Guild like it was routine. The streets of Axel were busy, lively, blissfully unaware of how close things had come to collapsing more than once. Vendors shouted. Adventurers argued over quests. Nothing felt urgent. That made Ruko uneasy. Inside the guild, the familiar noise wrapped around them. Aqua immediately went to complain about quest rewards. Megumin leaned on the counter, bored. Darkness stood straight, attentive, far too eager.
Kazuma scanned the board, muttering under his breath. Ruko stood back. He could feel mana now—not like before. It wasn't loud or dramatic, but it was there. A subtle awareness, like pressure changes before rain. He didn't focus on it too hard. After the simulation penalty, he wasn't eager to poke the system again. "Hey," Kazuma called, snapping his fingers. "Earth to Ruko. You zoning out?" Ruko blinked. "Just tired my man. I haven'tget no peace since come to this world."
Kazuma shrugged. "Same. Let's grab something easy. No undead. No slime. No cults. Just a good old day hunting." Aqua gasped. "That's discrimination!" "No, that's survival." They took a low-risk job—patrol duty near the outer road. Easy money. Fresh air. Minimal danger. Exactly what everyone wanted. Except halfway through, Ruko stopped walking.
Kazuma turned. "What now." "…Did you feel that?" Feel what?"
Ruko looked toward the distant hills. Nothing moved. No smoke. No noise. Still, something felt off. Not threatening—yet—but heavy, like something big existed just out of sight. "Probably nothing," Ruko said finally. Kazuma relaxed. "Great. Because 'probably nothing' is my favorite thing to hear from you." They finished the patrol without incident, but the feeling didn't fade.
That night, Ruko sat alone in his room. The phonecyclopedia hovered invisibly beside him, silent. No alerts. No quests. No punishment countdown ticking ominously. He exhaled. "I get it," he muttered. "I won't ignore you again." The system didn't respond. He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His body still felt off—lighter in some places, heavier in others. Like something inside him had adjusted after Arcanretia, after the fragment, after Hans. Not stronger. Just… different. Sleep came slowly.
The next day, the guild was louder than usual. "Did you hear?" "South road reported tremors." "Some idiot says a fortress is moving." Ruko paused mid-step. Kazuma overheard too. "A fortress… moving?" Aqua laughed. "That's stupid. Fortresses don't walk." Megumin tilted her head. "Unless they're been some magic." Darkness's eyes gleamed. "Or built for war." Ruko didn't say anything. The pressure he'd been feeling clicked into place.
That wasn't nothing. At the counter, Luna sighed as she pinned up a fresh notice. "We're still confirming reports. No official quest dated yet." Kazuma leaned in. "But?" "But if something big really is moving toward Axel," she said carefully, "we'll need every capable adventurer here in Axel." Ruko's chest tightened—not with fear, but with certainty and excitement. This was coming.
Later, back at the house, Kazuma collapsed onto the couch. "I swear, if this turns into another world-ending mess, I'm blaming you for it." "For what?" Ruko asked. "You always get quiet before things go bad and i don't like it." Ruko gave a small shrug. "Then maybe listen when I do you snorg." That evening, as the sun dipped low, a distant vibration passed through the ground. Subtle—but real. Glass rattled. Birds scattered. Everyone froze.
Megumin stood slowly. "That wasn't an explosion." Aqua swallowed. "I'm not sure, but that wasn't normal right." Ruko closed his eyes for a brief moment, focusing—not pushing, just listening. The mana pressure was clearer now. Massive. Artificial. Hungry. "…It's quite big," he said. "And it's moving as well." Kazuma groaned. "Of course it is. ...Wait how did you know that." No alarms rang yet. No bells. Axel hadn't realized what was approaching.
But Ruko knew. The rest days were over. Whatever was coming next wouldn't care how tired they were—or how much they wanted peace.