Chapter 6

When Xain had closed his eyes, bracing for the scaffolding to crush him, he didn't expect to die. But he did expect to wake up somewhere else—probably bruised, maybe with a concussion. Instead, when he cracked his eyes open, blinking against the dust and debris, he found himself staring up at someone crouched over him on all fours, shielding him from the worst of the collapse.

The man who'd been chasing the snatcher alongside him.

"A-Are you okay?!" Xain blurted out, his voice shaky with panic as he stared at the stranger's strained face.

Sweat dripped from the man's brow, his teeth clenched tight against the obvious pain wracking his body. "I-I should be asking you that," he rasped, his breath hitching. "Also—no. No, I'm not."

*Good job, ape,* Ercale's voice chimed in Xain's head, dripping with amusement. *While trying to catch a thief, you've managed to get yourself saved like some damsel in distress. Why don't you give the guy a kiss while you're at it, princess?*

Xain's face twisted into an annoyed frown. *Could you stop teasing me and help us right now?!* he snapped internally.

*No.* Ercale's reply was blunt and unapologetic. *I'd love to, really, but I don't have to.* His tone oozed smugness, referring to the crowd that had started to gather around them, shouting and scrambling to help.

Xain's frown deepened, which only seemed to confuse the man hovering above him. Before the stranger could say anything, though, a voice called out from the crowd. "Stay still! We'll get this off you!" Several people rushed in, their hands tugging and pulling at the wreckage, urging others to help. The scaffolding groaned under the strain before finally being lifted enough to drag Xain and the man free.

As soon as they were out, the man collapsed onto his side with a sharp grunt. "Ugh… oh, goddess… I think my back's broken," he wheezed, trying to straighten up but only managing a half-hearted slouch.

"Is it really?" Xain asked, his concern genuine as he reached out to check. But the moment his fingers brushed the man's lower back, the stranger went rigid, a high-pitched yelp escaping his lips.

"Yep. Definitely is," the man squeaked, his voice rising an octave in a way that, depending on who you asked, absolutely did not match his appearance.

Now that they weren't sprinting after a thief, Xain finally got a proper look at him—and honestly, he was surprised he hadn't noticed the details sooner. The man's attire was striking: a thieves' garb, much like Xain's, though distinctly different. Where Xain wore a blue, coat-like ensemble, this guy was clad in what could only be described as a bandaged black robe, wrapped in layers that gave him an almost ragged, shadowy silhouette.

But it was his appearance that truly stood out. Pale, almost ghostly skin, stark white hair, and piercing red eyes—an unmistakable sign of albinism. He looked like he'd stepped straight out of a myth, resembling a vampire more than a human being. Judging by the faint lines around his eyes and the sharpness of his features, Xain guessed he was in his late twenties. His build was lean, clearly designed for agility, though more muscular than Xain's—probably thanks to the extra years on him.

"Are the two of you okay?" a man from the crowd called out, his voice laced with concern.

The albino man raised a hand dismissively, though his face was still tight with pain. "Fine. Just dandy. Lived through worse in Haldoria," he replied with a strained breath.

*Haldoria?* Xain noted internally. The name stood out. A country to the north—land of perpetual snow, bitter winds, and a reputation for forging people as harsh as its climate.

Turning his attention to Xain, the albino man asked, "Is the bag fine?"

Xain blinked, suddenly remembering what all this chaos had been about. His gaze dropped to his arms—there it was, the small purse clutched tightly in his grasp. At least it hadn't been crushed. But as he opened it, dread settled in. The contents were practically gone.

"Looks like the snatcher emptied it before tossing it," Xain muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and disappointment.

The albino man let out a long, weary sigh. "At least we got the bag back. Let's return it to the woman," he said, his tone carrying an edge of resignation.

Xain nodded, guilt tugging at him. "Sorry, by the way… If I hadn't been there, you wouldn't have gotten hurt," he said quietly, his words weighed down with genuine remorse.

The albino man gave a weak chuckle despite the pain etched on his face. "It's fine, kid. I'm sure I'll be okay by tomorrow."

But the moment he tried to take a step, his legs buckled beneath him. Xain reacted instantly, catching him before he hit the ground.

"Are you sure you're okay? I can take you to the doctor in my steamwagon!" the concerned man from earlier offered, stepping closer.

The albino man sucked in a sharp breath, his face contorted with pain, but he still waved the offer away. "No, no—I can't afford the treatment even if we went."

His hand dropped back to his side, trembling slightly. Another sigh escaped him, quieter this time, more frustrated than weary. "Shit… If this keeps up, I won't be able to compete in the tournament tomorrow."

Xain's eyes widened. *He's participating in the tournament tomorrow—and he still risked his health to save me?* The guilt hit harder now, twisting in his chest. A thought formed, wild and impulsive, but he shoved it aside just as quickly. *No, that's insane. I'll figure something else out to help him.*

Without another word, Xain slid the man's arm over his shoulders, bracing his weight. "Here. I'll help you walk."

The albino man gave a grateful nod, and together they started making their way back.

Ercale, on the other hand, had been mulling over the same wild idea that Xain had dismissed. But unlike Xain, Ercale wasn't one to discard something just because it was insane. *Hmm… that will definitely be interesting,* he mused, a smirk forming on his face.

A sudden shiver crawled up Xain's spine. *Yep. Something more is definitely going to happen today.*