Fear Has No Status
I stood there with him, waiting for the favor to take shape.
“What’s up?” My voice slowed without me meaning it to.
Asahi straightened, all the easy warmth drained from his face. For once, he looked like someone carrying a weight that didn’t fit his shoulders.
“Listen,” he said. “Can you take me with you to the outside? There’s something I need to do.”
“You’re free to come with us,” I said, watching him closely. “But what do you need to do out there?”
Asahi wasn’t normally this serious. Something had to be wrong.
His eyes shifted to the side—toward Urizee, still staring at the flowers like they were the only gentle thing left in her world.
“I want to visit the elf village.”
I blinked. The timing was too clean to be a coincidence.
“The elf village?” I repeated.
“Yes,” he said, quieter now. “That elf girl seems… down. So I thought going home might lift her mood.”
I followed his gaze to the bald elf girl with a flower crown on her head. She didn’t move much, but her attention clung to the petals like they were a promise.
“You’re in luck,” I said.
Asahi turned back to me.
“We’re going to the Zeus Woods,” I told him, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face. “That’s where the elf village is. So you can come with us.”
“Really?” His whole face lit up. “I appreciate it, young master.”
He even added a slight bow.
My smile dropped.
We were having a good buddy-buddy moment, and he had to stab it with that title again—like he couldn’t help himself.
Still… it was good seeing him like this. That heavy expression didn’t suit him at all.
※
The day was still young. We had enough time to keep our promise—escort the three human girls and Alois Fugger to safety—then head to the Zeus Woods, and still return before nightfall.
Everyone who was departing gathered outside the house in the open field.
Most wore ordinary travel clothes. Reina, Asahi, and I wore outfits closer to what we’d worn at Count Juliq’s manor—practical, fitted, built for movement. Mariada stood out the most: a newly sewn maid dress that made her look like the very definition of maidhood—elegance and ferocity woven into one.
Reina looked herself up and down, eyebrows lifting.
“Where do you get these clothes?” she asked.
Her outfit screamed royal retainer. Or a general. It still had the left sleeve, even though there was no arm to dress.
“Each outfit was made to reflect your status,” Tessa said with the calm certainty of someone who had already decided it. “Mariada is the only one who requested her design to be like that.”
Reina shifted her eyes toward Airi. “Airi… you made these?”
Airi nodded once. “Yes.”
Tessa wasn’t the couturier, but she spoke as if she’d personally commissioned every stitch. And honestly… with her, that wouldn’t surprise me.
We were still gawking when Mariada stepped forward and cut through the moment.
“Alright,” she said, lifting one hand. “I’m going to teleport us.”
She didn’t chant a long incantation. She casually moved her hand as if drawing a line through the air—and a magic circle bloomed beneath our feet, spreading until it touched everyone in the group.
Tessa’s voice softened. “Be safe.”
Mariada’s lips moved.
“Instant Teleport.”
The world folded.
Not in a flash, but in a blink—like space itself decided it was tired of distance.
We appeared outside the Mist Country, standing amid the quiet ruin of Reina’s former mansion.
Mariada had chosen it for a reason. She’d been here. She knew it. And it was far from the town—far from eyes that might recognize us after what we’d done to the Count.
Teleportation magic was a relic in this era. Forgotten by most and hoarded by royalty. And worse—it's shunned—because many of the bloodlines still capable of it belonged to races the world had decided to hate: beasts and demons.
For many, using their magic was considered a sin worthy of execution.
Mariada steadied herself after the jump—only a fraction of a pause, a hand briefly touching her sternum like she was checking that her mana was still behaving.
Then she straightened, as if she hadn’t felt anything at all.
“I’m afraid we have to part ways here,” I said to the group we’d brought. "But here, this is a parting gift to you all."
After I said that, Mariada stepped forward carrying five bags. The four bags they opened held food from the Mist Country, and the fifth held a large amount of Flame Manacytes. Their bright crimson colour was a spectacle.
They all stared with amazement.
"This is—" Alois was stunned by the materials. He knew their worth very well.
He looked at me, searching for my reaction. It was calm and with a smile.
“Young master,” one of the girls said gently, “please, put your mind at ease. With this gift you gave us, we will be fine.”
We exchanged smiles and small bows—brief, deliberate goodbyes, leaving no room for regret to grow teeth.
“Alois Fugger. Everyone,” I said, taking his hand. “Take care.”
He shook back firmly. “Thank you, young master, for all the kindness you have shown us.”
“Thank you,” the girls added in unison, bowing low.
They raised their heads to leave when Reina stopped Alois.
“Give this to Guild Master Shugal,” she said, handing him an envelope.
Alois’s expression sharpened. He slipped it away like he understood the weight of paper in a world ruled by secrets.
“…I’ll deliver it as soon as possible,” he promised.
They waved, then disappeared down the broken path—small figures swallowed by distance.
But one remained.
“Young master,” Bradsby said, bowing. “I’ll return as soon as I’m done.”
I blinked, surprised he had come at all.
“Return—how are you going to do that?” I asked.
“Oh,” he said, and produced a piece of paper. A purple magic circle, runes carved around it, was stamped onto it like a seal. “Miss Mariada was kind enough to give me this. It activates the magic circle we used last time.”
“Hm.” I leaned in, curiosity biting. “Well… good luck with whatever it is you’re going to do.”
I didn’t press him—not yet. I saved the question for later, for when he returned with answers instead of promises.
Bradsby hurried after Alois and the girls, leaving us behind in the hush of ruins.
Now that the spectators were gone, we could focus on what actually mattered.
We turned toward the Zeus Woods.
The moment we stepped beneath the treeline, the world changed. The air grew colder—not in temperature, but in feeling. Sound softened. Even our footsteps seemed hesitant, like the forest was listening.
We stopped just inside.
“So,” Reina said, looking at me, “where’s the All Direction?”
I smiled, proud enough to be annoying about it.
The All Direction was the tool you needed to reach a set destination—more especially in the Zeus Woods. Without it, you didn’t “get lost.”
You wandered until the woods swallowed you up—or until the elves caught you.
“I have a much better idea,” I said.
“…Oh?” Reina’s eyebrow rose.
Everyone watched me like I’d promised fireworks.
We were trying to reach the place where we’d been ambushed before—the last trail that might lead us to Marcus. Without the All Direction, we didn’t even have a direction to begin with.
But I was confident. Or at least… I wanted to be.
I walked forward a few steps, stopped, then cupped my hands around my mouth.
“Hey! Little spirits—come out!” I shouted into the trees.
Silence answered.
The looks I got could’ve killed a weaker man.
Yes. That was my plan: calling spirits whose names I didn’t know, spirits that normally avoided humans like sickness.
But I wasn’t human.
I was an Arch Human.
"Little spirits..!" I called once again, then waited.
The quiet stretched long enough to become uncomfortable. Calling spirits like that wasn’t normal. Seeing them close to people was even rarer.
“So…” Reina’s voice slid in, amused and sharp. “Are you sure they’re coming?”
I didn’t answer. I just laughed nervously. Thin and humiliating.
Then the forest blinked.
Three flickering lights appeared above the trees, wavering like candles caught in the wind. They darted in frantic little loops with no clear pattern, like they’d been startled into existence.
Mariada’s expression shifted immediately.
So did Urizee’s.
Their eyes widened in different ways—Mariada with recognition, Urizee with awe, as if the lights were a story she’d heard but never believed.
Asahi and Reina didn’t look as surprised, like they’d already seen spirits up close before.
“See?” Asahi said, as if this were perfectly normal. “They showed up.”
I turned to Reina with a smug look that said, I told you so.
“Yeah, yeah,” Reina waved me off.
I wasn’t smug because I was certain.
I was smug because I’d survived the embarrassment.
The spirits drifted down, still uncoordinated, circling as they descended until they hovered at face level.
I held out my palm slowly.
“Hello,” I said, gently, like talking to a skittish animal.
The lights didn’t land. They only orbited me in quick loops, making high-pitched chirps—curious, restless.
“How are you today?” I tried again.
No response. No stillness. Just more spiraling, more chirping—like laughter without language.
Reina tilted her head. “Can you even talk to those things?”
“…Well…” I stalled, eyes sliding away as my brain scrambled for something dignified.
I didn’t get to finish.
“You can’t,” Reina said, lowering her voice with satisfaction. “Typical. How are we supposed to reach our destination now?”
“I’m open to suggestions if you’ve got any,” I shot back, irritation rising. “You’re impatient today.”
Reina’s eyes narrowed. “Impatient?”
We were one sentence away from turning it into a full fight when Mariada stepped between us like a wall.
“Stop it, you two!”
“Tell her to stop,” I snapped. “She’s been nothing but impatient, and it’s annoying!”
Reina snapped back immediately. “How dare you call me annoying!”
“No,” I growled, stepping forward. “How dare YOU speak to me like that? I’m not just your pupil anymore. I am a Lord—so show me some respect.”
“Tsk.” Reina stepped forward too, chin lifted. “Who cares? I can still whoop your ass.”
We glared at each other, teeth clenched, the spirits jittering around our heads like they were enjoying the show.
“I said STOP IT!!” Mariada roared.
The fierce Mariada was back.
One shout, and we both shut our mouths at once. We shifted away just enough not to look at each other.
Mariada exhaled hard.
“Haaa…” She rubbed her forehead. “How is it that whenever you two are together, you always find a way to start senseless fights?”
We stayed silent.
“None of this helps,” she continued. “I understand you’re close, but this behavior—save it for later.”
Her eyes narrowed as one final warning.
“Fine,” we muttered at the same time.
Reluctantly, we stopped… but our eyes still met for a second—promising we weren’t finished.
There was no real hostility in it. It was our stupid, unintended bonding squabble.
We just had terrible timing with them, and Mariada always ended up between us.
Now she turned back to the problem like she was resetting the entire conversation by force.
“Alright,” Mariada said, calmer. “If you can’t speak to the spirits, we need another way to reach our destination.”
“But we don’t have the All Direction,” Reina added, looking at me like I’d personally offended the concept of preparation, “because someone decided to venture into the Zeus Woods without it.”
“….”
“What do we do now,” she continued, voice dripping, “oh mighty king?”
We may have stopped fighting, but the contempt still had teeth.
I looked down, thinking.
Returning without accomplishing what we came for would be a waste—and I doubted Tessa would bless a second trip easily.
I hate to agree with her… but now what?
Then Asahi spoke.
“Let me talk to the spirits.”
“…Huh?”
All three of us turned toward him. Then to each other.
He was completely serious.
Even the spirits seemed to notice. They peeled away from me and drifted toward Asahi instead, flocking around his face as if they’d been waiting for him to speak first.
“What?” I asked, keeping my face low, eyes fixed on Asahi.
“You wanted to know if the spirits were doing okay, right?” he said, casual like he’d just finished a normal conversation with normal people. “They say they’re fine.”
He even gave a thumbs-up.
We stared at him again.
“How are you able to talk to spirits?” I asked—again—because the answer still didn’t make sense.
“It’s simple,” he said. “Watch.”
When he called it simple, my eyebrow twitched.
…I have a feeling it won’t be simple at all, I thought.
Asahi turned toward the flickering lights hovering in front of him.
“What are your names?” he asked.
The spirits answered with high-pitched chirps.
Asahi nodded as if he’d just received a full introduction.
“Right. I see.”
Now we were all confused.
If he were truly speaking to them, we would not be hearing him use human words. We shouldn’t be hearing anything that sounds like language at all.
“You know you’re speaking human, right?” I said slowly.
“Oh. Right.” Asahi scratched his cheek, as if he’d forgotten how strange this was. “I’m not speaking a different language exactly. I’m imbuing my words with mana—using a frequency spirits can perceive. And then my words ride on it."
He lifted a finger as if teaching a class.
“And the frequency is magical,” he added. “So even if a normal person learned what it is, they can’t replicate it.”
So it’s something only magic users can do… I frowned.
“Haaa…” I dragged a hand down my face. “I knew the moment you said it was simple, it was going to be the opposite!”
“What?” He looked genuinely confused.
Of course he did.
“You know what,” I muttered. “Let’s put a pin on your common sense.”
I exhaled and forced my focus back onto the problem.
“Okay. I can’t talk to them, so you’re translating.” I stepped closer, shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “Ask them this. Can they help me find the place where I last saw my master? He’s human. We came here with him the last time we met.”
Asahi listened, then turned back to the spirits and relayed my words without missing a beat.
At first, it seemed like they understood him smoothly.
Too smoothly.
Because the instant he finished, the spirits changed.
They shuddered in the air, flickering unevenly—like candle flames panicking in the wind.
Asahi’s expression tightened. “…”
“What did they say?” I demanded.
“Well…”
“Well?” My patience snapped.
“They’re afraid,” he said.
The way they trembled pulled a memory out of me—too sharp, too vivid. The last time the spirits acted like that, we lost Reina’s arm… and Marcus disappeared.
“Afraid…? Of what?” I asked, voice lower now.
Asahi questioned them again, palms turned outward as if pleading for honesty.
His eyes widened for a heartbeat at their answer—then his brows dropped.
We all watched him, waiting.
And he paused—just long enough to make the air heavy.
“They say…” he began.
My stomach tightened.
“…the human you’re looking for—is dead.”
The world went quiet.
I heard a soft inhale beside me—Mariada. Reina’s shoulders sank. Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
Urizee didn’t react. She couldn’t. She didn’t know Marcus or why we’d come here in the first place. She had only followed along, eyes still caught on flowers and light.
“I see,” Reina murmured, head lowering. “So the old man is really dead.”
We had expected the worst, but hearing it spoken aloud was different. Hope was a blade with two edges—one side keeping you moving, the other ready to cut you down.
It hurt. But we didn’t break.
What we’d survived these past days had hardened something in us.
“I’m sorry,” Asahi said quietly.
“Don’t apologize,” Reina said, easing the guilt out of his voice. “Thanks to you, at least now we know what we’re walking into.”
“Reina is right,” I said, steadying myself as I faced forward.
I'm a Lord now. And a ruler doesn’t collapse every time the world proves to be cruel. A ruler gathers the pieces and moves anyway.
“I had hoped to see Sir Marcus one last time,” I admitted. “But I guess that won’t be happening.”
“So… does that mean we’re going back?” Mariada asked.
Her voice was calm. Not cold—just controlled.
Asahi looked at me when she asked, as if he feared we’d turn around and leave him alone to face the elves.
“No,” I answered without hesitation.
Then I lifted my chin, the resolve settling into place.
“Even more reason we need to go,” I said.
I turned to Asahi.
“Asahi… is there a way for me to learn this spirit-speaking right now? Having you translate every time will be an inconvenience.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Imbue your words with mana. That’s it.”
“….”
I stared at him.
He stared back.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
“That’s all?” I said.
“Uh-huh. Told you it was simple.”
…Guess there’s still some common sense rattling around in that head of his.
If all it took was imbuing words with mana, then it really was simple—in theory.
“Okay,” I said, turning to the spirits. “Let’s try it.”
Talking to spirits was too useful to ignore. If Asahi weren’t around someday, I couldn’t afford to be helpless.
A Lord should be able to do more than give orders to his retainers. He should be able to survive without them.
“Hi,” I began. “I’m Krai—”
The spirits suddenly screeched.
Not in excitement.
In pain.
Urizee flinched hard, covering her ears and hunching as if my voice had become a blade piercing her ears.
Asahi reacted instantly, stepping to Urizee and placing his hands on her in comfort while snapping at me.
“Too much,” he ordered. “Decrease the mana imbue!”
“Huh?” My face heated. “Sorry—my bad. First time attempt.”
I rubbed the back of my head, ashamed.
I hadn’t meant to. But I’d poured dense mana into my words—and anything sensitive to mana couldn’t withstand it.
I steadied myself and tried again.
“Hi,” I said, softer in more ways than one. “My name is Krai. Nice to meet you.”
The air held.
This time, nobody flinched.
The spirits flickered—then their lights brightened as if something inside them clicked into place.
And suddenly I heard it.
Tiny voices—squeaky, excited—chanting my name where only I could perceive it.
“Krai! Krai! His name is Krai! Krai! Krai! Weeee! Hahahaha!”
They swarmed around me, delighted, singing a ridiculous little song as if I’d just done a magic trick for them.
Lesser spirits responded to mana signatures. They weren’t hearing “words” the way humans did—they were tasting the shape of my mana and answering it.
They were strange creatures: quick to anger, quick to joy, and honest to a fault.
A moment ago, they were trembling. Now they were celebrating.
I didn’t waste time.
“Listen,” I said, keeping the mana gentle. “Please help me. Take me to the place where the human died.”
It was like I’d moved a lever inside their minds.
Their lights dimmed again.
Fear returned—thicker than before. Not only for themselves. But for me as well.
“No!” one spirit cried. “Krai must not go there!”
“Krai will die if he goes near that place,” another blurted out.
“Krai—go back now!” the last pleaded, frantic. “Krai, our new friend! We don’t want Krai to die, too!”
They begged me not to go near it.
And for a heartbeat, their compassion almost caught me off guard.
Spirits were said to be vengeful and reserved. Yet here they were—warning me, protecting me, as I mattered.
But I didn’t come here to be protected by fear.
I came here for answers. For Marcus. And whatever had made even spirits tremble.
I stared deeper into the trees, where the light looked wrong.
“No,” I said, and my voice didn’t shake. “You’re going to show me.”
