CHAPTER 19 — Vow to Protect the Helpless
The wooden door of the secret room closed behind them with a firm click, severing the connection between the silent, mystery-filled space and the vast library corridor. Kyoichiiro took a deep breath—the library air, smelling of old paper and dust, felt fresher after being in that enclosed room. Or at least, that was what he wanted to believe.
The three of them walked along the aisle between giant bookshelves. Amura led the way, his hand still carrying a small fireball whose light danced across the surfaces of old books. Kyoichiiro walked in the middle, and on his left side, Aetheria walked with small steps—one of her hands still tightly gripping Kyoichiiro's hand.
Aetheria: (Her face wary, eyes blinking as she looked left and right as if the books might jump and attack at any moment)
Kyoichiiro didn't mind. In fact, he even felt slightly relieved—Aetheria's trembling touch gave him information about her condition. Still afraid. Still anxious. But at least she was still walking, still trying.
Amura: (From the front, his voice low and eager) "Let's go!"
The atmosphere was still silent, only the sound of their footsteps echoing among the towering rows of shelves. Kyoichiiro let his mind wander for a moment.
So many unexpected things happened today, he thought, his eyes sweeping over book titles he passed without really reading. It seems there are many mysteries in this world that I don't know yet. Not even a little. I have to be more careful moving forward.
He exhaled softly. The cold library air entered his lungs.
They turned left—back to the main path they had taken when first entering. The bookshelves here were neater, better maintained. Some labels on the spines still looked glossy, as if recently cleaned.
Up ahead, Amura walked with his shoulders slightly tense. Inside his head, the same swirling questions had been spinning since their conversation.
It seems I truly don't remember my memories, Amura thought, his fingers unconsciously rising to his mouth, his front teeth biting his index fingernail—an old habit that surfaced when he was frustrated. Is someone trying to erase them? When I died back then... I don't even remember whether I died alone or with others. It's really frustrating. Not knowing anything. Like a blind person lost in the middle of the ocean.
Kyoichiiro, walking behind, stared at Amura's strange movement with furrowed brows. From behind, he could see Amura's shoulders twitching like someone shivering, but it wasn't cold—it was restlessness.
What's wrong with him now? Kyoichiiro wondered, but he didn't ask. Maybe later. Maybe when the mood was more appropriate.
He glanced sideways at Aetheria. The girl was still silent, not uttering a single word. Her face was pale, her eyes staring blankly ahead without focus. And her hand—the hand gripping Kyoichiiro's—trembled faintly, like a leaf shaken by the wind.
Kyoichiiro felt that tremor. He said nothing. He just held on a little tighter—not too tight, just enough to let her know that he was here.
The atmosphere among them felt awkward. Silent. Not a comfortable silence like in the bedroom, but a silence full of unanswered questions.
They turned right, passing a section of the library that seemed rarely visited. Books here were scattered on the floor, some shelves tilted, as if something had once happened in this place. They stepped carefully, avoiding the piles of scattered books.
After walking for quite some time—Kyoichiiro counted about eighteen minutes in his head—they finally saw the large door at the end of the corridor. The same wooden door they had entered through.
Amura: (Glancing back, nodding once) "We're almost there."
Aetheria: (A small grunt, barely audible) "Hmmmph."
Kyoichiiro glanced at Aetheria with a confused look. That sound—a mix of protest, relief, and exhaustion—blended into one. He chose not to ask.
They quickened their pace. Upon reaching the large door, Amura looked at Kyoichiiro once more—received a confirming nod—then pushed both leaves of the door open.
The large door opened with a low rumbling echo that resonated through the library corridor. Beyond it, the darkness of the exit corridor welcomed them—the narrow, dark room before the stairs leading to the back area of the inn.
Amura stepped out first, his fireball illuminating the damp stone walls. Kyoichiiro followed, Aetheria still holding his hand. Amura closed the door slowly, and they began walking along that dark corridor.
Suddenly—from the ceiling, a small shadow descended silently. A tiny spider—or perhaps not a spider, but an eight-legged insect with silken thread—landed precisely on Aetheria's shoulder.
Aetheria: (Feeling something on her shoulder, she turned)
Aetheria's eyes met the tiny creature. Eight shiny black eyes stared back at her.
Aetheria: (Her face went pale, her mouth opened—but no sound came out)
Her body went stiff. Then, like a doll whose strings had been cut, she collapsed sideways.
Straight toward Kyoichiiro.
Kyoichiiro: (Startled, unable to dodge in time) "Ah—!"
THUD.
Aetheria fell on top of Kyoichiiro. Both of them tumbled onto the cold stone floor. The position was awkward—Aetheria on top, her face pressed against Kyoichiiro's chest, while Kyoichiiro lay beneath, his back aching from hitting the stone.
Kyoichiiro: (Still startled, trying to support Aetheria's body) "A-Aetheria?! Are you alright? Aetheria!"
No answer.
Amura, who had been farther ahead, turned at the sound of the fall. His fireball cast light toward them.
Amura: (His face confused) "What happened?!"
He saw the scene—Kyoichiiro lying on the floor with Aetheria on top of him. Aetheria wasn't moving. Amura was silent for a few seconds, his eyes blinking, unsure how to react.
Kyoichiiro looked up, staring at Amura with an expression hard to describe—somewhere between frustration, confusion, and slight panic.
Then, he looked down again at Aetheria's face, now peacefully asleep on his chest. Yes, asleep. Not fainted because of the spider, not from excessive fear—just unconscious from exhaustion, and perhaps from the shock. Her breathing was steady, her chest rising and falling slowly. In fact, Kyoichiiro could hear her stable heartbeat—and for a few seconds, he felt the warmth of her body on top of his.
This girl... Kyoichiiro thought, amidst the awkwardness and strangeness he felt. ...truly pushes herself too hard. She fell asleep on top of a loser like this.
He almost smiled—but held himself back. That smile wasn't appropriate at a time like this.
Kyoichiiro: (Carefully, lifting Aetheria's body)
He positioned the girl on his back—piggyback style. Aetheria's light weight felt almost like nothing, only her head drooping on Kyoichiiro's shoulder, her blonde hair tickling his neck.
Kyoichiiro: (Expressionless, but his tone slightly shorter than usual) "Let's continue. It seems I have to carry her. It would be difficult if she were on my front."
Amura: (Nodding, still with a slightly puzzled expression but not asking)
They walked again. Kyoichiiro's steps were steady despite the extra weight on his back. Aetheria was unconscious, only occasionally murmuring softly in her sleep.
They reached the end of the corridor, climbed a short staircase, and opened the door leading to the back area of the inn—the place where they had first entered this corridor. Amura flicked the light switch, and the small storage-room-style space with simple bookshelves became brightly lit.
They walked quickly to the front wooden door, opened it, and entered the inn's main corridor. The atmosphere here was warm—a stark contrast to the corridor behind.
Upon reaching the stairs to the second floor, Amura whispered a short spell. A thin wind magic enveloped their feet, muffling their footsteps—a useful technique when one didn't want to attract attention at night.
They ran silently—turned left on the second floor, passed rooms numbered 2, 3, 4, 5, until finally arriving in front of room number 6.
Kyoichiiro opened the door, entered first, and gently laid Aetheria on the same bed as the night before. The girl groaned softly as her head touched the pillow, then fell back into deep sleep.
Amura entered, closed the door, and locked it. The two of them sat on the floor—not on the bed—and sighed in relief almost simultaneously.
Kyoichiiro: (Rubbing his face with his palm) "We should rest first. Do it tomorrow morning. Our condition isn't ideal right now."
Amura: (Nodding, stretching his shoulders) "Yes. We need to conserve our energy for tomorrow."
They rested in silence. Kyoichiiro closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing. Thoughts about the multiverse, about the Demon King, about reincarnation—he stored them all in the back of his mind. Tomorrow. He would think about them tomorrow.
---
Twenty minutes later, Amura woke up first from his short nap. His eyes were slightly drowsy.
Amura: "Kyoichiiro-san... I'm very sleepy. I'll go to sleep now, okay?"
Kyoichiiro: (Still half-conscious) "Alright."
Amura crawled to the left bed and immediately sank into sleep. Kyoichiiro, following his habit, took a thin blanket and spread it on the floor. He lay down, his back feeling slightly sore from the fall earlier.
He closed his eyes.
Tomorrow we'll search for traces of that slave trade, he thought before his consciousness began to fade. I don't know what we'll face. But...
His breathing grew steady.
...I won't let others suffer like before again.
The door of his consciousness closed.
---
On the first floor of the inn, in the back room that served as the owner's office, an old man named Edward sat in a large wooden chair. His face was wrinkled, his hair grayish-white, but his eyes were still sharp—the eyes of someone who had seen many things. Before him, two female servants stood respectfully.
Edward: (His voice heavy, slightly hoarse—like someone accustomed to commanding in a soft voice) "Has there been anything detrimental lately?"
A servant with a ponytail of blonde hair answered firmly.
Blonde-Haired Servant: "It seems not, sir. Everything is running normally."
Edward nodded, his gaze shifting to Elaina—the black-haired servant who was cleaning a table in the main lobby, not inside the office, but positioned close enough to hear. Elaina continued wiping the table, showing no reaction, but her hand paused briefly when she heard Edward's question.
She resumed wiping, her face remaining flat, but her eyes—her eyes blinked faster than usual.
---
Morning arrived.
Sunlight slipped through the gaps in the window curtains, creating golden lines on the wooden floor of room number 6. Aetheria was the first to wake. She sat up on the bed, rubbed her eyes, and saw Kyoichiiro still asleep on the floor—lying on his side with a thin blanket covering only half his body.
Aetheria: (Getting off the bed, crouching beside Kyoichiiro, gently shaking his shoulder) "Kyoichiiro-san... wake up. Kyoichiiro-san. It's already morning."
No response.
Aetheria: (Shaking more firmly) "Kyoichiiro-san!"
Kyoichiiro groaned, his eyes opening slowly. Aetheria's silhouette, with her messy blonde hair and pink eyes still half-asleep, loomed above him. For a few seconds, he just stared.
Then he came to his senses.
Kyoichiiro: (Moving back slightly—a startled reflex, then exhaling) "It's morning already, huh..."
He sat up, rubbed his eyes, then stretched his arms and shoulders, stiff from sleeping on the floor.
Kyoichiiro: "Where's Amura?"
Aetheria: (Small pout) "He's still asleep. He's really hard to wake up."
Kyoichiiro stood, walked to the left bed. Amura lay there in a chaotic position—one leg dangling off the edge of the bed, the pillow almost falling off, his mouth half open.
Kyoichiiro stared at him with a flat expression. He wasn't surprised. He simply pulled the pillow from under Amura's head with a quick, firm motion.
Plump.
Amura's head dropped onto the bed with a soft sound. He groaned, but didn't wake up.
Kyoichiiro lifted the pillow, feeling its weight for a moment. Then, with one precise swing, he slammed the pillow directly onto Amura's face.
WHAP!
Amura: "GRAH—!"
He jolted awake, his hands reflexively catching the pillow, his eyes wide open—but his vision was still blurry. He sat up, shook his head, trying to focus.
Amura: (Still half-conscious, voice hoarse) "W-what are you doing here...?"
Kyoichiiro: (Flatly) "How long are you going to keep sleeping, huh?"
Amura stared at him. Then at Aetheria, who stood beside him with her hands on her hips. Then at the window, already bright.
Amura: (Smiling awkwardly, turning his face away, voice small) "Oh... it's morning already, huh... ahaha..."
Aetheria: (Still pouting, but her voice firm) "We should get ready. There are things we need to accomplish today, remember?"
Kyoichiiro: (Nodding) "Yes. So, we'll change clothes first."
The two of them—Amura and Aetheria—nodded. Aetheria walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Inside, Kyoichiiro and Amura changed clothes efficiently and without much talk. Kyoichiiro chose simple attire—a dark gray long-sleeved shirt, black cloth pants, and short boots that weren't too stiff. Amura chose something similar—unobtrusive clothing, neutral colors, easy to move in.
They finished almost simultaneously.
Kyoichiiro: (Toward the door) "Your turn now, Aetheria. We're done."
Aetheria: (From behind the door, her voice slightly nervous) "O-okay."
Kyoichiiro and Amura stepped out, closed the door, and stood in the corridor. Not long after—about five minutes—the door opened.
Aetheria stood at the threshold, wearing a simple light cream dress with a small ribbon at the waist. The dress wasn't luxurious—Kyoichiiro recognized it as a cheap item from the village market—but somehow, on Aetheria's body, it looked... fitting.
Aetheria looked down, her fingers playing with the hem of the dress, her cheeks flushed.
Aetheria: (Voice small, almost a whisper) "D-does it... look good?"
Kyoichiiro stared at her for a moment. Not long. Just enough to assess—and to feel the strangeness in his head.
Kyoichiiro: (Flat, but sincere) "It looks good. Very good on you."
Inside his head, another voice murmured: "Why does every woman need validation from others whenever she wears something new? Strange..."
Amura: (Not noticing the exchange, already standing at the end of the corridor) "What now? Go straight there?"
Kyoichiiro: (Returning to focus, his voice firm) "Yes. We have to move quickly. We don't know what will happen there."
Aetheria closed the room door, and the three of them walked quickly along the corridor—this time using Amura's acceleration magic from the start. Their steps became light, almost floating, their footfalls muffled by the magic.
They turned right, descended the stairs to the first floor quickly—almost hopping—and darted toward the inn's front door.
In the lobby, Elaina, who was sweeping the floor, only caught a glimpse of three blurry figures passing before her eyes.
Elaina: (Startled, her broom stopping in her hand) "W-what was that?"
She shook her head, thinking her eyesight might be failing her.
---
Outside the inn, the morning air was still fresh. Some villagers had already begun their activities, but the street in front of the inn was still quiet. The three of them—each carrying their swords and equipment—stood at the roadside, observing their surroundings.
Kyoichiiro: (Pointing to the right) "We turn right."
Amura and Aetheria nodded.
They shot off to the right, entering a narrow alley flanked by moss-covered stone walls. This alley was silent—no merchants, no villagers—only some stacks of old wooden crates and scattered trash.
At the end of the alley, in a spot somewhat hidden behind a pile of crates, two male figures stood. Their appearances were rough—shabby clothes, unshaven faces, and a relaxed but calculating demeanor. They were talking in half-whispers.
Thug #1: (Annoyed tone) "We haven't caught any prey today. How are we supposed to get rich if this keeps up?"
Thug #2: (Sighing) "Be patient. Someone will pass by eventually. Usually those who walk alone in the early morning... are easy to lure."
Kyoichiiro stopped at the corner of the wall, hiding behind a pile of wood. He listened carefully, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. Amura stood beside him, also peeking. Aetheria behind them, trying to stay calm.
Slave hunters, Kyoichiiro thought, his hand instinctively touching the hilt of the katana at his waist. Or at least part of that network. If we can follow them, maybe we'll find the holding location.
Aetheria, who had been trying to keep her distance and stay quiet, attempted to move closer to Kyoichiiro to whisper. She stepped carefully, trying not to step on anything that might make a sound.
But fate had other plans.
Beneath her foot, a thin piece of wood—possibly the remnant of a broken crate—lay between two stones.
CRACK.
The sound of snapping wood rang clearly through the silent alley.
Kyoichiiro turned. Aetheria froze, her face paling.
Thug #1: (Stopping his conversation, turning toward the sound) "What was that noise?"
Thug #2: (His hand moving to his waist, where a knife was tucked into his belt) "Someone's over there."
Kyoichiiro: (To himself) Danger.
He watched with sharp eyes, his fingers already gripping the katana's hilt firmly. Beside him, Amura also prepared himself. Aetheria covered her mouth with both hands, trying to hold her breath.
The thugs' footsteps began to draw closer. Loud. Steady. Like the ticking of a clock counting down toward a collision.
Would they fight in this narrow alley? Would they be caught before they could save anyone? Or would Kyoichiiro find another way—an unexpected escape route—as he always did?
One thing was certain: this morning, just beginning, was about to become a far more dangerous battlefield than they had ever imagined.