Invincible
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#122
🕑 Added 2024-10-09 08:29:18 +0000 UTCThe Fugitive (2)
A man with bandages wrapped around his face was gnawing on some jerky in the underground dungeon.
He recalled the time he had been strapped to the operating table.
He clearly remembered the moment when a knife was thrust deep into his forehead.
Though he lost consciousness soon after, the oddness of the situation was unmistakable.
After all, if they were going to split his head open, they should have used a saw for efficiency.
When he came to his senses, he found himself here, his face tightly wrapped in bandages.
Hetherson shook out the bag that had contained the jerky.
"Damn, there's barely anything to eat."
All he had left were a few pieces of dried rations, some bread, and a single canteen.
As a sheet of paper fluttered down, he caught it.
It had a message written on it:
[Tell the boss that the debt has been repaid. Also, abandon the name Hetherson. You are a dead man now. Your face has been altered, so start by finding a new identity.]
Hetherson touched his face.
Something like a stitch caught between the bandages, causing a sting on his skin.
"That bastard! He didn’t... he didn’t swap my handsome face with some ugly mug, did he?"
Unfortunately, without a mirror, he’d have to check later.
But more important than that was figuring out why Rockefeller had done this.
Hetherson scrutinized the letter closely.
"A double agent? No, if that old man was suspicious, he would’ve tipped me off. The shadow warden specifically warned me to be wary of Rockefeller. He’s too suspicious to be considered an ally, but it's hard to outright label him an enemy. And now this 'debt' he supposedly repaid... There must have been some deal between him and the boss."
Hetherson’s mind raced.
"A spy for sure? Nah, if he were, he’d be in the royal court, not teaching at an academy."
Still, being alive was better than nothing.
His life, which he had thought was over, was somehow continuing, and a sly grin spread across his face.
"Heh heh."
But the grin quickly faded.
Hetherson suddenly remembered something he had left at Frostheart.
His mouth hung open in disbelief.
"Ah..."
He had handed over all the gold he had gathered from across the world, and every scrap of knowledge on inventory magic, to a student.
Now he was penniless.
"Aagh! If I had known this would happen, I wouldn't have given it away!!"
Hetherson slammed his fist on the ground in regret.
Every time he moved, the chains on the shackles around his wrists clinked, making him look even more pitiful.
Clink.
The cuffs on his wrists were magical restraints.
Rockefeller had left him here, trapped, and told him to escape the dungeon on his own.
Tears welled up in Hetherson's eyes as he cried out.
"And Rockefeller, you bastard... At the very least, you could’ve left me a weapon, right? Huh?"
He muttered to himself, staring up at the ceiling before slumping to the ground.
The floor was covered in green moss.
Moss like this only grew in safe spots in the dungeon, places that even the dungeon creatures couldn’t reach.
"This is the dungeon's blind spot where it can’t detect prey. Great. But man, I’m not sure I’m going to make it out alive."
He hesitated to take a step forward.
It made sense—after all, he was a wizard, not a warrior.
Facing the dungeon’s monsters with no weapon was practically suicide for an ordinary person.
"Guess I have no choice. I’ll have to use this genius Hetherson’s wits to get through this."
His eyes lit up as he scanned his surroundings.
Just in time, a fist-sized stone lay in the corner.
"Perfect."
Now he needed to find a weak monster.
One fragile enough to be killed by a rock, but large enough to provide some useful bones or something to turn into a weapon.
Hetherson gripped the stone in one hand and a piece of bread in the other, creeping toward a corner of the dungeon.
He tossed the bread around the bend.
...
It was quiet.
That was a sign it was safe.
Repeating the process, he moved forward until he heard a shuffling sound.
‘Oh, there it is.’
Hetherson pressed his back against the wall and peeked out.
It was a massive lizard, about the size of a grown man, standing knee-high.
Its glossy feet made wet, sticky sounds as it shuffled closer.
Just as the lizard reached for the bread, Hetherson sprang out and smashed its head with the stone.
Wham!
But the creature was tougher than he expected.
Its tail swept across the floor, knocking Hetherson over with a thud.
“Ugh.”
The lizard opened its jaws wide, lunging to bite him.
Shhhaaah!
Hetherson stretched his arms out, wedging the chains of his shackles between its jaws.
Then, with a leap, he mounted the lizard like a horse, clamping his teeth on the back of its neck while repeatedly bashing its head with the stone.
‘Let’s see who survives!’
The lizard’s resistance weakened.
It had likely suffered a concussion.
After a few minutes of struggle, Hetherson panted and let out a triumphant roar.
"Yeah!"
But his victory was short-lived.
Tears welled up in his eyes from the realization of how pitiful he had become.
To think he had to go through such hell just to take down a single creature.
Hetherson couldn’t help but feel sorry for his degraded circumstances.
‘Damn. If the other officers saw me like this, they’d be laughing for the rest of their lives.’
After regaining some energy, Hetherson smashed the lizard’s claws with the rock.
He used its sharp talons to slice through the soft underbelly, creating a dotted line before tearing it open.
His spoils from the dissection were a long spine and a skull big enough to fit over an adult’s head.
"This will do for a weapon."
He tore off his shirt, shredding it to create a sturdy rope.
He tied the vertebrae together tightly so they wouldn’t fall apart.
Whip!
He swung it around a few times to test it; it didn’t break.
Satisfied, Hetherson put the whip down and picked up the skull, placing it on his head like a helmet.
He let out a bitter chuckle.
"...Why do I feel like I’ve become some kind of caveman?"
Now armed, Hetherson explored the dungeon with renewed determination.
***
Hetherson was fighting for survival with everything he had.
When a bull-like monster appeared, he shredded its hide with his whip.
A spider the size of a human torso was wrapped in the bull’s hide and then killed with the bull’s horns.
Against a muscular, one-eyed monster, he smeared the whip with spider venom and ran until the creature died from the poison.
“Huff, huff…”
When the one-eyed monster collapsed, Hetherson noticed his skin felt damp.
Thinking it might be sweat, he wiped his face with the sack that held his food.
But the damp feeling persisted, and he sighed in relief.
If it wasn’t sweat, it could only mean one thing.
‘I must be near the mossy area.’
Taking a few more steps to rest, Hetherson's ears perked up.
“Get a grip! Please!”
A woman’s urgent voice echoed nearby.
He briefly suspected it might be a mimicry monster, like a "mirror ghoul," but shook his head.
‘...The amount of dark energy is overwhelming. This must be a monster I don’t know about.’
Mirror ghouls were weak creatures.
But the dark energy radiating from the source was so dense, it made his skin tingle.
‘This area seems dangerous… I should head somewhere else.’
Hetherson was about to turn back when he noticed green moss in his line of sight, causing him to stop.
‘Wait, this is the mossy area, isn’t it?’
That meant there was no monster here.
Hetherson cautiously approached, making sure to keep his footsteps quiet.
The voice grew louder as he got closer.
“Luon! You can't lose consciousness here!!”
Hetherson, peeking cautiously from around the corner, widened his eyes in surprise.
A woman was crying as she placed her hand on the chest of a fallen man.
‘She doesn’t seem like a professor…’
The woman, with a faint bluish glow around her youthful face, looked quite young.
The man lying on the ground also didn’t seem like a professor; otherwise, there was no way he’d be collapsed in a place like this.
Even so, approaching them was risky for someone on the run.
After all, this was a crazy woman in the middle of a dungeon, messing with the man’s heart.
Hetherson turned to leave, trying to quietly slip away.
However, the one-eyed monster he thought was dead was drooling, standing right in front of him.
Grrr...
“Ah, shit! You scared me!”
Startled, Hetherson couldn’t help but shout, drawing the woman’s attention.
“Who’s there?”
At this point, there was no turning back.
Hetherson sprinted toward the woman and the man, intending to start a fight and escape during the chaos.
But the woman was much stronger than he expected.
Before Hetherson even reached her, the one-eyed monster exploded with a bang.
‘Look at the speed of that death curse activation. That’s ridiculously fast...’
Hetherson raised his hands, covered in monster remains, and forced a gentle smile toward the glaring woman.
“Calm down, miss. I’m not a bad guy, okay? I wasn’t planning on interfering, so I’ll just leave now. Take care.”
He started walking backward slowly to avoid startling her.
But the woman clearly had no intention of letting him go.
“Sorry, but you’ll have to die. I can’t risk you telling anyone I’m here.”
As she began channeling dark energy into her magic book, Hetherson’s mind raced.
If she feared being discovered, she was probably on the run, and her target might very well be the professors.
“Wait! Look at me! Can’t you see these magical cuffs? I’m being chased too!”
He shook the chains on his wrists as he passionately pleaded, and the woman scanned him up and down.
She furrowed her brow in distaste.
“What’s with this beggar look?”
Hetherson fell silent.
Even he knew he looked ridiculous, with a skull helmet, bone whip, and shackles.
“Well then, I’ll just ki—”
“Ahem, wait, hold on...”
Hetherson quickly interrupted, sneaking a glance at the man lying on the ground.
“Your boyfriend seems to be in pretty bad shape, huh?”
At that, the woman’s lips twitched.
“Boyfriend? Hah.”
Sensing an opportunity, Hetherson smoothly continued.
“Leaving a beauty like you behind... what a tragedy. How about I take a look at him? Believe it or not, I know a few things. How about it? You can decide if you want to kill me afterward. Sounds fair, right?”
The woman, still suspicious, continued to channel dark energy into her magic book.
Hetherson, in a desperate attempt to sell himself as an expert, leaned into his role.
“Oh? This sound… the heart’s not doing well. The rhythm’s all wrong.”
And in truth, the man’s heartbeat did seem abnormal even to the naked eye.
The woman frowned, seemingly dissatisfied with Hetherson’s diagnosis.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I made that heart perfectly.”
Hetherson almost laughed.
Made the heart? What kind of nonsense was that?
But saying so out loud would surely get him killed.
“No, what I mean is that the angle of the heart is a bit dangerous. His constitution seems unusual. Hmm... Let me take a closer look.”
Hetherson cautiously approached and placed his hand on the man’s chest.
The woman flinched but stayed silent as Hetherson spoke again.
“See? Look here at the back. The blood vessels are getting pinched. If the pressure continues with each heartbeat, it could be life-threatening. You need to pull the heart a bit to the side.”
“...Was Luon’s constitution always this unique?”
Hetherson nodded.
“Indeed. In some northern bloodlines, certain traits of the Erata race can show up. Those people had their hearts positioned further to the right.”
Over the millennia, as countries unified and bloodlines mixed, human constitutions had diversified, leading to new medical classifications.
“Judging by these sutures, it looks like you did the surgery. You know medicine, but didn’t know about this?”
“Shut up. How am I supposed to know all the modern details?”
Hetherson finished his makeshift surgery on the man.
Yet, the man still didn’t wake.
Feeling a chill run down his spine from the woman’s ominous stare, Hetherson hastily added:
“Ahaha, just wait a moment. This is the real problem here. But you’ll need to use your magic for this part. I mean, look at me.”
He rattled his chains, forcing a smile.
“What?”
“There’s too much dark energy built up in his brain. That’s why he’s in a daze. But this guy doesn’t seem like a mage, so how did he absorb so much dark energy?”
“That’s probably because of the drugs. Anyway, just teach me the technique already.”
Hetherson carefully dipped his finger into the man’s blood and began drawing a magic circle on the ground.
He didn’t want to bite his own finger.
Though the woman gave him a sharp look, he calmly completed the ritual.
“This technique temporarily renews the brain’s nerves. It’ll expel the dark energy. Be precise. You don’t want his brain fluid leaking out like sweat, do you?”
"Alright."
"And do you have any potions? His brain’s nerves are likely quite damaged as well."
The woman pulled out a vial of medicine.
Hetherson could sense dark energy from it, but since they were about to extract the dark energy from the brain anyway, it should be fine to use.
“Well then, time to give him the medicine. Hey, do you have any water?”
Hetherson handed her his canteen.
The woman crushed the pill into powder, mixed it with the water, and shook it vigorously.
Just as she was about to pour it into her own mouth, Hetherson blinked and spoke up.
“Wait, are you going to feed him mouth-to-mouth? What about telekinesis magic? It would distribute the medicine more evenly.”
"...You're really dense, aren’t you?"
The woman pouted.
Hetherson had actually known, but he’d said it anyway.
He was irritated by her bossy attitude.
‘If it weren’t for these cursed cuffs, I’d...’
“What? Why are you glaring like that?”
“Oh, ahaha, I was just thinking how well you two fit together.”
“Really? Heehee."
Simple-minded, for sure.
A few minutes later, the man opened his eyes.
The woman hugged him tightly with a big grin.
"Luon!"
However, the man’s expression seemed a bit off.
He looked confused, as if he didn’t recognize her.
Sure enough, the man asked, “Who are you?”
Hetherson shook his head.
“Looks like he’s got amnesia.”
"What nonsense," the woman retorted sharply before turning to the man with a playful smile.
“It’s me, the one you used to call Felia.”
“Hm? You’ve changed a lot.”
“Right? What do you think? Pretty decent, huh? Oh, and I’ve changed my name too. Call me ‘Alena’ from now on.”
Hetherson pursed his lips awkwardly.
‘Damn. If you were going to change your appearance that much, you could’ve given him a heads-up first.’
Once the situation settled down, they exchanged a lot of information.
The woman, once called Felia, was now Alena, and the man was Luon Al Banas.
Apparently, they’d caused some trouble at the academy and escaped through a fountain passage to this place.
“Is that even possible? How did you know about that?”
“Hmph, I know a lot of things, so don’t act so smug, you fool.”
Hetherson also realized that the woman was ruder than he had first thought.
“So, you two are fugitives too, huh? Got nowhere else to go?”
When he asked, both nodded.
Hetherson chuckled and made a suggestion.
“If you’ve escaped this far, the Empire will likely issue a bounty. How about this? Come with me to the headquarters of the ‘Shadow Wardens.’”
He needed the woman’s strength to safely escape the dungeon.
If things went wrong, he could always betray them later.
But the woman looked at him with disdain.
“Shadow what? That name is ridiculously lame. What is it, some kind of cult?”
Hetherson clenched his fist, trying to remain calm.
How dare she insult such a prestigious criminal organization?
Meanwhile, the man, who had regained much of his strength, spoke.
“The Shadow Wardens are quite a notorious criminal organization, even within the Empire. It could be a suitable place to hide. But who exactly are you to make such a proposal?”
Hetherson smirked.
“My name is Hetherson Aola. I’m an officer there. I could get both of you in with just a word.”
The man looked at the woman and said, “Traveling together for now doesn’t sound like a bad idea. We can verify the truth of his claim over time.”
“If Luon says so, then fine. I can change the name of this Shadow-whatever later anyway.”
Though her words annoyed Hetherson, he had gotten used to it and let out a sigh.
“Ugh, whatever. Let’s just get moving.”
And so, the three of them set off together.
***
Despite the commotion, the dining hall at the Adele Hall remained intact.
Not a single servant was injured, and all the food supplies were untouched.
As a result, business continued as usual.
“It’s been a while since I’ve sat here.”
Emeric sat in the VIP section.
As the waiter handed over the menu, the man sitting next to him spoke.
“Wow, I guess you must feel guilty toward me?”
The grumbling man’s name was Harmon.
He had lost his spot in the top ten to Emeric after being defeated during the first-year magical combat training.
Emeric ignored him and handed the menu to Harmon.
“How about a course meal?”
“Well, yeah, that might just heal my wounded pride.”
Emeric raised three fingers toward the waiter.
“Three portions.”
“Ah, yes. When will the rest of your party arrive? We can adjust the timing if you’d like.”
“They’ll be here soon. You can start preparing now.”
The waiter bowed politely and left.
Harmon pouted slightly.
“So, all this effort is because of Hersel, huh?”
“Well, yes. I’ve made quite a lot of coin thanks to him, and I also have some business to discuss.”
Harmon blinked and asked, “You’re not thinking of giving up your spot in the top ten, are you?”
“Ha, don’t be ridiculous. The top ten position is not something he’s capable of holding.”
Harmon nodded in agreement.
In fact, ever since Hersel killed the "Poison Serpent Berme," he had become more powerful than most professors.
The top ten rankings might mean something to the students, but for someone like Emeric, it was nothing more than a trivial game.
“Then why are you interested?”
Emeric took a sip of water before answering.
“He’s practically the king of Frostheart. A single word from him could cause a storm. Keeping an eye on him is crucial.”
“Oh, I see. So, you’re saying you want to stay on his good side, huh?”
Emeric narrowed his eyes, and Harmon quickly continued, trying to tread carefully.
“But isn’t that risky? The pride of the others is no joke... especially, you know, the 7th-ranked guys.”
The top ten rankings were based on strength.
The current number one was called the 1st-rank, while Emeric, being at the bottom, was 10th.
“Won’t things get noisy once they return?”
Currently, the 1st through 7th-ranked students were absent.
They were on a practical mission deep in the demonic realm with active Pathfinders, but they were due to return to Frostheart soon.
“No matter how strong they are, they’re nothing to worry about.”
“Of course, they’ll get crushed. But I’m talking about gambling, you know, betting.”
Emeric glanced away from Harmon and replied.
“If it’s gambling, you should talk to Athera.”
“No, what I mean is, will those guys even dare to challenge Hersel? There has to be some fighting, or else Athera won’t open the gambling tables.”
Emeric scoffed.
Harmon had lost most of his wealth betting on the first-year written exam and was now penniless.
In order to make a living, he needed to earn some coins.
“That’s why I told you to bet on Hersel Ben Tenest.”
“Tch, at the time, that was the safe bet! Ugh, isn’t there any way out of this?”
Harmon scratched his head in frustration, while Emeric fell silent, deep in thought.
Then, an idea came to him.
“Hm... well, how about making sure no one knows?”
“Huh?”
“Think about it, Harmon. Hersel Ben Tenest is part of the Schlaphe Hall. Because of that, even I underestimated him at first.”
Harmon perked up his ears.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“If we keep his strength a secret from the others, it’ll make it easier to open the betting tables.”
Harmon’s jaw dropped in realization.
