The door to Sollivan's quiet and silent room suddenly opened, and a hunched-over young man entered, panting heavily. Every step he took was unsteady, as if he were severely drunk.
After walking through the small room, he finally reached his soft, familiar bed and collapsed face-first onto it. When he heard the door lock, he cursed into the mattress, his voice muffled.
"Those bastards almost killed me." With great effort, he turned over to face the ceiling and spread his arms out to relax, trying to ease the pain in his arm muscles. "Huff," he exhaled with difficulty and lifted his head slightly to look at his stretched-out body. "I've never sweated like this in my entire life. Even after showering, I still feel the sticky discomfort of my skin."
Finally, he stopped complaining and closed his eyes quietly, relaxing his body. His breathing steadied, and it seemed as though he had fallen asleep. But after a few minutes of rest, he opened his tired eyes and stared at the ceiling for a long time before struggling to get up from the bed.
Exhausted, he commanded, "Come out."
As usual, Noctis emerged from his shadow and stood before him. The crimson eyes stared at him, and with concern, Sollivan raised his hand and scratched his chin.
"I'm in a weak position, and you're the only thing—or rather, the only person—I can rely on." When he remembered the incident that had happened that morning, he felt anxious and threatened. He could no longer maintain his composure when he realized he was branded with a mark resembling a slave seal.
"I wouldn't have realized it if it weren't for my reckless actions. But at least the leader didn't overdo it and left the controlling authority to only a few people. It seems that Blear, despite his status, doesn't have any authority over me."
He thought deeply and tried to analyze the nature of the seal placed on his body, but he stopped after a few seconds.
His knowledge was too limited, and even if he knew the type of seal, he likely wouldn't be able to remove it anytime soon. After organizing his thoughts, he refocused on his priorities. He lifted his head and looked at Noctis, and after hesitating for a moment, he ordered sternly, "Turn your hand into a sword."
Following his command, the shadow's hand twisted strangely and began to contort in a mysterious way, eventually transforming into a slightly short sword.
Sollivan stood up and raised Noctis's hand. He felt a strange, cold texture, and without paying much attention to it, he began to check the sharpness of the black sword. But he frowned because the sword wasn't sharp.
He couldn't order it to attack objects in the room for fear of making noise that would attract the leader's and the warriors' attention. "I need to find an opportunity to test your strength properly." He paused for a moment before ordering again.
"Turn your hand into a needle and make its tip very sharp."
Noctis's hand twisted again, transforming into a large needle with a sharp, pointed tip.
Sollivan looked at it before grabbing it and directing it toward his arm. He tightened his grip and tensed his muscles as much as he could despite his exhaustion, and with clenched teeth, he ordered.
"Obey me, but don't stab with full force from the start. Gradually increase the strength until you can pierce my skin."
The shadow pushed its hand with reduced force, but Sollivan only felt a slight prick, making his eyebrows arch in disappointment again. "Increase the strength."
The shadow increased the force of its push, but the needle's tip deformed and compressed slightly before reforming into the shape of the needle.
Pierce!
Drip!
After two attempts, the needle's tip pierced Sollivan's arm, causing a small amount of his blood to flow and drip onto the ground. "Alright, retreat."
As soon as the shadow retreated, Sollivan wiped the blood from his wound and wrapped his arm with a soft cloth. He raised his hand and looked at the blood sticking to his fingers, exhaling in disappointment.
"Your offensive strength is too weak, or rather, it won't be effective against those stone-bodied warriors. We need to find a pattern that makes you suitable for combat. If we take advantage of your excellent stealth ability, we can perform deadly attacks on very vital points." He spoke with dissatisfaction while his eyes remained fixed on his blood with curiosity. Since he learned about the transformation of his blood, he had been paying more attention to his physical condition.
Suddenly, his eyebrows arched strangely, and he frowned. He raised his hand and brought it closer to his face, as if wanting to see every detail of his blood.
He froze in his position for a short moment before tilting his head back with wide eyes. He gasped quickly and wanted to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat. After a long moment of standing in shock and disbelief.
"The color of my blood has faded."
His words carried an unbelieving tone, but he was certain of what he was saying. He had seen the color of his blood more than once and remembered it in detail. Now, although it hadn't changed much, its color had become less dark.
"But this is impossible. I've read that the color of blood doesn't change. How? Even Primordial Blood is said not to be this unique." He stepped back with faltering steps and sat on his bed. But his gaze didn't leave his hand. "Something's wrong."
He suddenly lifted his head and scanned every corner of the room with wary eyes. Even after finding the place empty, he felt uneasy and wished with all his heart that what he was seeing was some kind of illusion.
Time passed slowly, and even the extreme exhaustion he felt disappeared. His eyes remained open, and even after placing his head on the pillow, peace and sleep refused to come to him. He tossed and turned in his bed anxiously, and after a long time of lying down, he got up and exhaled angrily.
But suddenly, he felt a wave of thoughts entering his mind. He lifted his head, filled with chaotic thoughts, and looked at Noctis, who was still staring at his blood-stained hand. He looked at it and remembered that, in his shock, he had forgotten to wipe his blood.
"Do you want the blood? I forgot that our contract guarantees you periodic access to my blood." He felt an intense eagerness emanating from Noctis, and after a short moment of thought, he pointed to his blood-stained hand. "Take it."
As soon as he issued the command, he found Noctis standing before him, transformed into something resembling a black cloud that dispersed and surrounded him from all directions.
A mysterious coldness spread through every part of his body, and then he felt a strange pain in the wound on his arm. The blood began to leave his body and spread through the black mist, which glowed with a dark blue hue and floated happily.
Sollivan felt the shadow's intense happiness emanating from all around him, so he didn't interrupt and remained seated. After a short while, he felt extreme exhaustion and weakness in his legs, and then he ordered sternly.
"Enough."
Despite its reluctance, the dark cloud moved and took on Noctis's usual form. Its crimson eyes continued to look at Sollivan greedily, but its greedy feelings lasted only moments before disappearing, returning to its usual cold state.
"Huff, you're greedy." Although Sollivan spoke mockingly, the extreme exhaustion and fatigue were evident on him.
He looked at his body and was slightly surprised to see all traces of blood gone from his body, and even his wound, which had bothered him, had forcefully healed and no longer emitted any bloody smell. He looked into the shadow's eyes and said with some gratitude.
"You've hidden all the evidence."
At that moment, Sollivan felt a little relieved. He had been worried that someone might sense the strangeness of his blood or catch its scent. He didn't know how observant these tribesmen were, but he preferred caution over risk.
He stretched out on his bed with hazy eyes. Despite his anxiety and chaotic thoughts, his extreme exhaustion overwhelmed him, making him fall asleep quickly.
…
The next morning, he opened his eyes, which showed signs of fatigue due to their slight blueness. He looked at the familiar ceiling, and then all the memories of the previous day came to his mind, making him exhale sharply. "I'm tired, and I won't be able to train in this condition."
Knock!
Tap!
As if someone had heard his words, a faint knock came from the door.
He moved his heavy body and stood up. He was so tired that he didn't even bother to yawn and stretch. Nevertheless, he maintained a sharp gaze. He scanned his surroundings and looked at his clean clothes, and even bent down to look at the floor where drops of his blood had fallen, but he found nothing.
Even the cloth he had wrapped around his arm earlier was clean. At that moment, he felt some relief, but he didn't immediately go to open the door. Instead, he stood in place and uttered words he himself could hardly believe.
"I can return to my world?"
'At first, I thought the idea lingering in my mind was something related to my blood or the bond between me and Noctis, but I was wrong. Apparently, that idea is the key to returning, and now I can reach it.' He thought silently for a few moments before muttering.
"But will I still be able to walk when I return? Maybe I'll lose everything, and even the shadow won't come with me."
A faint worry arose in his heart, and it didn't take long for it to turn into a deep fear of returning. He thought deeply about his predicament and reviewed all his options. At first, when he came to this world, he was angry and deeply afraid. At the same time, he felt a deep guilt for his inability to stay in his family's world and achieve his revenge.
But now, he no longer wanted to return, or rather, he had become afraid of losing everything he had gained. Yes, his life was complicated in this world, and he had been branded with a slave seal. But in return, he had regained his ability to walk, possessed unique Primordial Blood, not to mention the shadow that accompanied him as a loyal servant and faithful companion.
Knock!
Clang!
"Tsk." The knocking stopped, followed by the sound of the door opening.
He turned his head and looked at the familiar warrior with sharp eyes. With a hunched and submissive posture, he walked with her to the familiar room. He opened the door and entered to be greeted by the table full of food. But this time, only Beatrice and her accompanying warrior, Lora, were in the room, along with the maid assigned to serve them.
He looked around warily and asked, "Where's Fredrick?"
Beatrice lifted her head and looked at him with a bit of coldness. "His name is Warrior Fredrick."
'Yes, yes, we get it, respect and all that nonsense.' Due to his foul mood, Sollivan could barely keep his mouth shut.
Beatrice noticed his strange look but didn't care and continued speaking.
"He told us about your weakness. So, he decided to give you a day off so your body can recover. As for today, you'll accompany me on my daily tasks so you can learn about the tribe's life and customs."
Sollivan was slightly surprised and replied, "I understand."
He sat in his chair and began eating his food. But his mind was preoccupied with other matters, as he thought deeply about his decision.
Beatrice saw his blank stares and shook her head in pity for her fate. 'I can't believe my father hasn't changed his decision even after I begged him. Can't he see how weak and foolish this person is? Primordial Blood is more of a curse on our tribe than a blessing.'
"Ahem, mind your manners while eating." Although she tried to ignore it, she finally spoke about what bothered her.
Sollivan regained his composure and sat up straight, beginning to eat his food politely. Most of his actions were involuntary due to the seal, but he decided to stop his chaotic thoughts and focus on what was in front of him.
After finishing his breakfast, he went to wash up. As for hygiene, he preferred to clean himself before eating, but he was refused by the warrior assigned to watch him.
After finishing his personal matters, he silently accompanied Beatrice and her entourage out of the leader's palace. His steps were slightly slow, and he maintained a safe distance between himself and Beatrice. But at the same time, he didn't stray too far from her so as not to appear suspicious.
While he was thoughtfully considering a way to deal with the princess in a good manner, he heard her say, "Actually, I'm certain you know everything despite your lies and feigned ignorance.
I don't know what you're planning, but according to my father's orders, I'll play along with your lie. But keep this in mind: if you act in any way that harms my tribe or attracts trouble, I'll kill you." Although he couldn't see her expression, he felt a real sense of danger emanating from her.