I want to be strong!
The thought screamed through my mind—desperate, raw, and burning.
Carried by the bandit Boraz—a half beast man whose enhanced strength made me feel like a child's toy—I was helpless. His arm was like iron around my waist, making me feel weightless and useless in his grip. Dead weight.
And here I thought I could give my life to protect the person I loved not only as a friend, but as a brother.
What a joke.
My hands shook where they gripped Boraz's arm, trembling with effort but accomplishing nothing. Kaito hung limp in his other arm, blood soaking through torn fabric, that holy light still flickering weakly in his half-closed eyes, beneath his skin. Still being burned through by something that didn't care if it destroyed him.
His training sword hung useless at his belt—he'd never even drawn it. But his hand, even unconscious, clutched the holy sword like it was fused to his palm. An extension of his body he couldn't let go.
My training spear was gone. Left behind somewhere on that battlefield, dropped when terror froze me solid.
During that fight, I'd been frozen. Paralyzed. Couldn't move. Couldn't even speak.
My mouth had hung open, words trapped in my throat while my body locked rigid with terror. Every muscle refusing to respond while I watched them fight for their lives.
And I'd thought I could help him. When he chose to save this world, I chose to stand with him. Thought I could do something when things went wrong.
"Just bandits," I'd said to him before we left. "We can use our training gear. How hard could it be?"
But I couldn't do anything. I hadn't helped. I hadn't done anything.
Couldn't fight. Couldn't protect him. Couldn't even stand on my own two feet while someone else risked everything to save us both.
The forest rushed past in a blur of motion—branches whipping by close enough to cut. My stomach lurched with each explosive leap that Boraz made seem effortless, carrying us farther from the battle. The wind tore at my face, sharp and cold. My fingers ached from gripping so hard, knuckles white, arms trembling with the effort of just holding on.
Boraz's pace didn't falter, but his gaze kept flicking toward Kaito.
"The light's fading," he muttered, voice taut with worry. "That holy glow—it's dimming."
I looked at Kaito. He was right. The golden light that had been burning through Kaito's body, that divine fire in his eyes—it was flickering out like a dying candle, sputtering out, fighting the wind. His eyes were closing, the terrible brightness behind them guttering to nothing.
Boraz grunted, adjusting his grip on both of us as he leaped over a fallen log without breaking stride. His jaw tightened, and his pace quickened.
Whatever was controlling him is letting go. Good, that means he might actually survive this.
Relief washed through me—so sudden and overwhelming my grip slipped for an instant before I caught myself. At least he'd live.
Then the truth crept back in, cold and sharp.
I was a cargo who couldn't use his own two feet to survive. I was cargo. Dead weight. A body someone else had to carry to safety.
I saw them fighting. I saw him fighting.
They existed on a level I couldn't even comprehend. One casual swing. One stray spell. That's all it would take, and I'd be gone.
Kaito—without that holy sword, he was just like me. Maybe even weaker in body, if not in heart. I'd wanted to protect him, to cover his blind spots, to watch his back the way we always had back home.
But now?
It was dumb.
I'd seen him fight that Minotaur the same way before. One strike, clean and final. That overwhelming, possessed style. His body moving with speed and precision that shouldn't be possible. The monster that had nearly killed us both was gone in an instant.
I'd thought that was it. Thought that power meant we had a chance.
But that demon? Three of them—three—had needed to corner him. Aria with her wind magic and barriers. Boraz in that terrifying beast mode. Kaito with a holy sword and divine power burning through his body, with divine fire—to bring him down.
Aria, who said her offensive magic was weak—yet I'd just watched her cut through that demon's defenses with wind that sliced shadow like silk.
And her barriers—those nearly indestructible barriers that had held against everything.
During training, she'd made everything look so easy. Simple gestures, brief explanations.
When we'd followed her to the bandit camp, we'd arrived just in time to see Boraz—a half beast folk warrior—standing there breathing hard, hands trembling, his war hammer lying in the dirt. While Aria stood calm, completely unharmed, like she'd barely tried.
We'd stood there frozen then too. Ashamed at how outclassed we were.
Then that demon had shown up, and she'd fought alongside Boraz like they'd trained together for years. Coordinating attacks. Creating openings. Her barriers protecting us while her wind magic drove the demon exactly where they needed him.
"Weak at offense," she'd said.
What a lie. She was already a top fighter.
Or maybe... maybe her standards were just so far beyond ours that what she considered "weak" would kill us instantly.
All three of them, working together with coordination I could barely follow. The three of them fought as one—precise, fluid, unstoppable.
And they'd barely won.
Barely.
What the hell?
That demon. What the hell was he? He hadn't even seemed like a top demon—just... middle rank? Lower rank commander, maybe? The way he'd fought, the way he'd talked—he hadn't acted like some grand threat. Just another soldier in a larger army.
Then what about the ones above him? If that was just one of many... what did the generals look like? The Lord of Darkness himself? How much power did he have?
My grip tightened on Boraz's arm until my fingers went numb, and I felt something cold settle in my chest. Something that squeezed my lungs and made it hard to breathe. Something worse than helplessness.
It wasn't helplessness anymore. It was terror—terror at the scale of what we'd been thrown into.
This wasn't our world. This wasn't bandits in the mountains or wild animals we could scare off with torches. This wasn't bandits or beasts.
This is a war. A real war, with forces so far beyond us that even seeing them fight felt like watching gods clash. This is war—a war of gods and demons.
And Kaito was supposed to fight them.
Kaito, who ran a food cart, who smiled while cooking. Who cried when his father died but kept working because it made him feel close to him.
My best friend.
The person I'd grabbed onto during that teleportation because something in me knew—that if I didn't, I'd lose him forever.
And now I couldn't even protect him. Couldn't even fight beside him, stand beside him. Couldn't do anything except be carried away like a child while others bled for us.
I want to be strong.
The thought burned through the terror, the fear, fierce and demanding, and unrelenting.
Aria won't push him to get better—but I will. If we're both going to survive this, I have to.
He has to be strong enough to fight without the holy sword.
I want to be strong enough to stand beside him. Strong enough to fight.
Strong enough that he doesn't have to face this alone.
"I want to be strong enough to matter."
My grip on Boraz's arm tightened—not trembling anymore. Steady.
"I will be."
"We will be."