Mystery man's influence: Warrior's given task

(Third Person)

The Demon Continent—a barren, unforgiving wasteland named after its primary inhabitants, the Demon race—is a land of extremes. Scorching by day and freezing by night, its sparse vegetation and rare rainfall mark it as a desolate realm. Fierce monsters, most ranked C or higher, roam its vast expanse, making survival a constant battle. It is, without doubt, the most dangerous continent in the world.

Yet in recent days, an anomaly has disturbed this harsh environment. A mountain near Rikarisu—once home to a flock of Black Dragons—has become the epicenter of something unnatural. Thunderclouds coil overhead, unleashing an endless rain unheard of on this arid land, and creatures swarm its peak as if drawn by an unseen force.

The Adventurers' Guild has yet to act, but not everyone is idle. Among the concerned are Ruijerd and Eris, who have set up camp on a cliffside: far enough to avoid immediate danger yet close enough to witness distant lightning. The fire between them crackles its feeble warmth doing little to ease the tension.

"And you're sure this is his doing?" Ruijerd asked for what felt like the thousandth time.

"I know it's him," Eris insisted. "No one else could do that."

Ruijerd fell silent, his gaze fixed on the raging storm. Although his expression remained inscrutable, doubt churned within him.

'Maintaining a spell of such power indefinitely? Unthinkable. Only Laplace could sustain such a feat—and no human, let alone a mere child, should be capable of it.'

Yet a contradiction nagged at him. Having spent centuries trapped on this continent, he was unaware of how much the world had changed or how Magic had evolved. One thing, however, remained constant: as a Superd warrior, his honor was unshaken. If a child were in danger, he had only one course of action.

"Tomorrow, I'll go investigate," he resolved. "See if I can find something."

"Or someone," Eris scoffed.

Ruijerd glanced at her. "Are you certain what you saw… spoke to you?"

"I know what I saw, okay?!" she snapped, rising abruptly. It had been days since Rudeus disappeared, and frustration gnawed at her. This unfamiliar, treacherous continent had been everything she dreamed of exploring, a place of legend whispered among adventurers. She had once imagined journeys with companions—Ghislaine, Rudeus—but now she found herself paired with a Demon like those from the bedtime stories from her mother.

She did not dislike Ruijerd. He was strong, and she respected his prowess and skill she bore witness when he slayed those monsters with such ease. But the constant worry over Rudeus was a burden she could no longer bear.

Ruijerd, long accustomed to solitude, struggled for words until he finally offered a simple promise.

"Do not worry. I will find him and bring you both home."

"YoU wOn'T bE dOinG aNy Of ThAt."

A disembodied voice—no, voices—cut through the crackle of the fire like a discordant choir. They came from all around, chilling in their unnatural cadence.

Ruijerd sprang to his feet, spear in hand, his third eye scanning the darkness. Something—or someone—was present, surrounding them, creeping in with a stealth that defied his heightened senses. Then came a sudden, eerie silence and, with it, recognition from his third eye.

"You!" Ruijerd growled, tightening his grip. "You are the one who took the boy!"

A smooth, venomous chuckle answered him.

"gOod oLD rUiJErD. alwAYs tHe NobLE prOTecTor. HaD tHe BrAt NoT lOst hIs mInD, I wOuLd NeVeR hAvE ReAcHeD oUt tO YoU."

Eris paled. "W-Where is Rudeus? What did you do to him?"

"i cAn'T TeLl yOu."

Ruijerd's voice turned sharp. "Who—or what—are you?"

"YoU wIlL fInD oUt SoOn enough."

The voices merged into one chilling reply: "BuT iN tHe MeaNTimE, YoU hAvE nO ChOiCe bUt tO CoMpLy."

Ruijerd scoffed. "You endangered a child's life. Why should I listen to you?"

Silence followed, then a soft yet cutting whisper: "Because I know you."

The words sent a shiver down his spine. He turned sharply—too late. A murky black hand shot from a fissure in the ground, seizing Eris by the throat. She gasped and clawed at the shadowy grip that dragged her upward, her efforts to free herself proving to be in vain.

"I know that after what happened to your son and the rest of your tribe," the voice mused, "you developed a protector's complex—a redemption for all the young lives lost too soon by your own hands, thanks to the cursed spears Laplace gave you."

Ruijerd's blood boiled. Every muscle tensed as he watched Eris struggle, her terrified face flickering in the firelight.

"Throw your spear to your right far enough away and sit down," the voice commanded. "Or the girl gets it."

Ruijerd's instincts screamed to act, to defend her, yet the tightening grip on Eris held him in place. Each ragged breath from her stoked the fury within him.

This was his son's spear, a reminder of the sacrifice that once freed him from madness. Discarding it felt akin to discarding his son's very soul.

But his decision was made. His duty as protector meant sometimes sacrificing what he held dear. With a clenched jaw, he focused on the hand choking Eris. Taking a deep breath, he hurled his spear to the right, landing it precisely ten feet away, and then lowered himself into a sitting position.

The grip on Eris loosened ever so slightly, and she gasped as if surfacing from deep water. Ruijerd's heart pounded, yet he remained still.

A dark chuckle filled the air. "You do understand, after all," the voice purred condescendingly, "that you have to listen to me. Stay at Rikarisu and be patient, and I promise that in the meantime, I'll gather the people necessary to rescue the pathetic brat."

Ruijerd's mind raced as he fought to suppress his rising anger. This was no mere bandit or monster—this entity knew too much, and the promise of "gathering people" felt ominous. Still, arguing was not an option when Eris's life hung in the balance.

He glanced down at her—still struggling but alive, which was all that mattered at the moment. Yet, a nagging question lingered.

"Why are we supposed to wait?" he asked.

"Because if you don't save him on your first try, you will turn the place more dangerous, more difficult, more… relentless."

A pause allowed the words to sink in before the voice resumed, its tone reprimanding.

"Also, have you thought about what you'll do with the young lady in the meantime? You couldn't possibly believe you could leave her out here while you're in there, could you? It's a lot bigger in there than you think."

Ruijerd felt a surge of murderous bloodlust, yet he paused to consider the warning. He'd fought in wars where impossible feats were common—and those capable of them always emerged.

"Fine," he said in a low, resolute tone. "We will wait. But if you trick me and harm her or the boy in any way, I will find and kill you."

A chilling laugh followed. "Oh, you'll find me soon enough. But for now, have patience—just like the time you waited for a chance to get your revenge on Laplace. I'm sure you can do that again, if not for revenge, then for something else."

Before Ruijerd could reply, a soft sound disturbed the stillness of the night. A small bundle landed beside him with a gentle thud—a token from the unseen figure.

"Your reward for compliance," the voice declared, dripping with malice. "Money, supplies, Adventurer cards set to C rank, and gear for each of you. Oh, and some shaving stuff to remove your green hair."

Ruijerd frowned in confusion. "Why the last one?"

"To help you enter the city. Without your green hair, your chances of being identified as a Superd drop significantly. Cover the gem on your forehead with the provided headband, and you can pass with Eris by saying you're a mix of various tribes. And who knows? Maybe people will give you a chance to let them know the real you and not the monster called Dead End you are known for before you reveal your true identity to them."

The solution to Ruijerd's problem he was just given seemed too good to be true, but what the voice said felt logical even to the likes of the warrior.

"I will return in a month to see how you're faring."

The shadowy hand that had gripped Eris retracted into the earth, and the oppressive aura slowly dissipated as distant signals faded away. Ruijerd quickly checked on Eris. Though still gasping, she was alive. Gently, he helped her to her feet, his protective instincts undimmed.

"I'll protect you," he murmured more to himself than to her as he steadied her trembling frame.

"Until we meet again. Face to face, that is," the voice intoned in a final, foreboding whisper before vanishing into silence.

Ruijerd remained kneeling beside Eris, his mind reeling from what had transpired. His hand hovered over the bundle—filled with resources that would keep them alive for now, but at a steep, uncertain cost. Attached to it was a sheathed sword, heavy yet manageable—likely intended for Eris, known to be trained as a swordswoman.

He regarded her, still recovering from shock. Though fear lingered in her wide eyes, determination glowed beneath. They had little choice but to follow the mysterious figure's instructions—for now.

"We gather our strength and wait for the next move," Ruijerd murmured calmly. "But trust me, Eris—when the moment arrives, I will put an end to this… this thing. For you, for Rudeus. No matter the cost."

Ruijerd's anger intensified. He sensed he was being exploited, similar to how Laplace was, yet this time, he was wise enough to refrain from hasty actions.

Eris nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the distant, raging storm. The fire between them burned steadily, a small beacon against the relentless wilderness.

For now, they would wait.

///