"It seems that high-quality ingredients can become delicious with just simple preparation."
Neatly slicing open the shell, Linge used two evenly shaved wooden sticks to easily pick up the crab meat. Looking at the translucent delicacy before him, Linge felt grateful as he put it into his mouth.
Mmm, the meat was tender and melted in the mouth, the flavor fresh and not greasy at all. This would surely go well with rice; unfortunately, there was none at the moment.
Tsk, I'm homesick.
After the meal, Linge stopped and looked up at the sky.
Home, home... as soon as a wandering traveler stops their pace, they start to miss home.
But where exactly is home?
"What's wrong?"
The girl waiting nearby looked at Linge. She had long since finished her food. Unlike Linge's slight sentimentality, she was a master with a knife, needing only to segment the crab meat with a blade and pick it up to easily bring it to her mouth.
"It's nothing, let's go."
Linge didn't say much else.
Since they were full, it was time to move forward. As long as he was moving, that nostalgia would dissipate.
This reminded Linge of the people from his hometown. Those folks cared deeply about having a place to belong; they tried to build a new home in a foreign land, willing to sacrifice the next twenty or thirty years of their lives for it, staying constantly tense to avoid being left behind.
But home, the home in his memories... was somewhere he could never return to.
After walking for a long time, they saw a goose by the lakeshore. Perhaps it was an enemy; Linge cautiously gripped his knife.
"Oh-ho-ho! What a succulent young girl!"
Was that goose complimenting the girl?
But the adjective wasn't quite right.
Linge threw a stone, hitting the goose squarely on the head.
A hit!
Now that is what you call accuracy.
"Since you can talk, learn how to greet people properly. Get this straight: we're not here to play Animal Crossing."
After Linge finished his scolding, the goose bobbed to the surface and zipped away with a whoosh, leaving behind a surface covered in feathers.
"Let's go."
Little Red Riding Hood didn't seem to care about the goose. She was always like this, cold and indifferent; external things rarely seemed to bother her.
So, what did she actually care about?
And why did she choose to approach him?
Actually, Linge was quite smart. Now that he was no longer avoiding these questions, he could easily find many clues.
For instance, Gaul's pursuit.
If the girl's mirror magic involved traveling between worlds, then it meant Gaul had also traveled between worlds.
And then there was Little Red Riding Hood's appearance.
Little Red Riding Hood Leike was not a reckless person. So when she appeared, she must have observed him for a while, or rather... scrutinized him.
So, was the power behind Gaul the girl's goal?
In that so-called... Andoru City.
And that place was also Linge's destination, equally relevant to him.
Then perhaps, their meeting was what's called—
Fate.
Following a path through the dense forest, they came to another lake.
This area was bumpy and full of holes; there weren't many places to step.
"Oh my, lovely young girl, we meet again!"
Not knowing where the voice came from, Linge looked around and finally spotted a Frog beneath his feet.
Having just seen a talking goose, seeing a talking Frog now wasn't that strange, and from the Frog's tone, it seemed to know Leike.
"Eee~ strange traveler, your soul seems very weary. Have you considered relaxing a bit?"
The Frog's eyes seemed fixed on Linge, giving him an eerie feeling.
"Relax... are you joking? Don't tell me you provide foot massage services here?" To show he wasn't as weary as it claimed, Linge made a joke.
"Foot massage? What's that?"
The Frog was very confused.
"..."
Linge was somewhat speechless, but on second thought, it made sense. After all, this fellow was just a Frog; it soaked in water all day, so it would be hard for it to understand what Linge meant by a 'foot massage.'
"Even though I don't have that, I can teach you a very powerful 'thing'!"
The Frog began to hop and jump around.
"That thing?"
Not understanding what it meant, Linge also hopped twice. By the time he realized what was happening, he was already falling through the air.
When he hit the ground, although Linge looked a bit disheveled, he didn't make too much of a fool of himself. He was just a bit confused.
In that brief moment, he had felt the flow of mana.
This meant that just now was... magic.
"What a truly incomprehensible thing."
Linge stood up, patted his robe, and turned to ask Little Red Riding Hood: "What was that?"
"Shunpo."
The girl responded flatly.
"Oh! So it's called Shunpo?" The Frog pondered.
"..."
Linge didn't really want to deal with this Frog.
"Let's go."
Little Red Riding Hood pulled Linge toward the shore. Letting go, she jumped directly onto an exposed flat area in the lake; it was quite far away.
Her movements were light, possessing a direct and fluid elegance.
Tsk!
Seeing this, Linge had no choice but to brace himself and jump.
He thought, at worst he'd fall into the water and drown, what else could happen?
But soon, he felt the flow of mana, followed by a sense of impact, and then the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet.
He had actually made the jump.
"This was... me?"
Linge looked back and saw the Frog hopping on the opposite shore, with no intention of following.
"Keep up."
Little Red Riding Hood urged him, jumping again toward another grassy patch.
Linge jumped again as well.
Seeing the two of them distancing, Mr. Frog murmured in a low voice.
"Incredible."
"The destinies of black and red are intertwined at an abnormal time, in an abnormal world."
"It seems the Demoness's drastic measures have forced that existence to use extraordinary means..."
"Or perhaps, He thinks it will be more interesting this way?"
"Ah well, no need to think about such things."
The Frog hopped along, leaving the area... hopping and jumping, heading who knows where, simply following the girl's silhouette.
The girl didn't seem worried at all that Linge wouldn't be able to keep up, so she maintained a very high speed.
This was fine; if it were like this, Linge only had to think about one thing. His mind was often cluttered, and such moments of purity were rare.
Then, without paying attention—thud—a long trail appeared on the grass. Linge had performed a sliding kneel. Unlike those triumphant and majestic stars on the football field, this was a full-body prostration.
"Pah!"
Linge plucked the grass from his body, feeling a bit annoyed.
Fortunately, the girl hadn't gone far. Seeing Linge's predicament, she walked over.
This made Linge feel deeply relieved, but also a sense of urgency.
He climbed up, acting as if nothing had happened, and looked around.
Not far away was a circular lake, surrounded by various flowers of all colors. A light mist lingered, making it look hazy and dreamlike.
"Look, it's beautiful."
Although he was changing the subject, it was the truth.
This place was as beautiful as a fairyland.
"Mhm."
Little Red Riding Hood followed Linge's gaze and gave a brief response.
But soon, something caught her eye.
Linge looked at her, then realized what she was staring at. The moment his gaze shifted over, he couldn't look away either.
That was a skeleton and a tombstone.
That tombstone was truly massive, over a meter tall.
That skeleton was also quite burly; he must have been a warrior.
Unconsciously, Linge had already walked over.
Stepping on the weeds, he finally realized.
The tombstone was actually quite thin, rusted, and full of cracks.
It turned out this was a sword... what a heavy sword, both in its past and its present.
Shifting his gaze from the impactful greatsword, Linge saw that the skeleton was also covered in wounds. Every bone, every single part, had scars that would never heal.
He was even... missing a hand.
And that single remaining hand wasn't holding the sword, but a skull.
Were they lovers, father and son, or best friends?
No.
Any way you looked at it, they must have been enemies.
So, the story was: 'The tall swordsman went through countless hardships to finally slay his arch-enemy, only to die on the way back due to his heavy injuries.'
What a pity, but hero epics are often like this.
That so-called fulfillment is actually something sought but never obtained.
However, just looking at the sword master's sitting posture, one could feel a sense of relief.
Perhaps his birth was heavy.
But his death was relaxed.
Those years weighed down by heaviness were all taken away by death.
Perhaps for him, this was enough.
After all, it's beautiful here; dying here must be quite nice.
"I really... envy him."
For some reason, Linge muttered this sentence.
"What's wrong?"
The girl asked him from behind.
"But it's missing one thing..."
Linge sat on the ground and began to dig into the soft soil with his hands.
Although Little Red Riding Hood was a bit confused, she didn't ask further.
"We can't let a fellow like this be left exposed in the wild." As Linge spoke, his hands were already bleeding from the effort.
He was like this; he was always like this.
"..."
Little Red Riding Hood didn't speak or intervene; she just waited quietly.
Before long, Linge had dug a large pit.
He stood up, picked up the skeleton, and placed it inside.
"Rest in peace. Though with the soil quality here, I'm afraid you won't even have the chance to become a fossil."
He was talking nonsense, but in truth, Linge felt terrible, inexplicably terrible.
It was as if he were burying himself.
Then, he pushed the soil back in and packed it down with his hands, forming a small mound.
"Then let's wait for this place to be covered in flowers."
He gazed at it, then looked at the greatsword.
"Still, to swing such a massive sword with one hand... that's truly incredible."
Linge examined the greatsword, sighing in admiration.
"You want to wield this sword?"
Little Red Riding Hood asked bluntly. She saw what Linge was thinking but wasn't optimistic. "It's a bit rusty, full of notches, and it's too heavy. The size isn't suitable for you either."
"Suitable?"
Linge used both hands to pull the sword out with all his might. The sword was over two meters long, its weight like several people piled together.
With such a sword, he had to admit it.
"Yeah, it seems this is by no means a weapon for mortals. Aside from the departed swordsman, this sword isn't suitable for anyone else."
But if it were a monster, it would surely be no problem, right?
If he, as a monster himself, were to wield it, could he use it to cut through thorns and forge a path forward?
Gripping the hilt, he could feel a dark will crying out within the sword.
It was telling Linge... this is the Sword of the Struggler.
This is the Black Slash.
This is the Sword that Slashes Through Fate and Causality!