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Chapter 1:
Ergreifung
The devil spoke:
“Behold, there are those who yearn for you—four knights in number.
One rides a golden horse, and his name is Conquest.
One rides a white horse, and his name is Famine.
One rides a blue horse, and his name is War.
One rides a black horse, and his name is Death.
Conquest pretends to serve.
Famine pretends to be satisfied.
War pretends to be peace.
Death pretends to breathe even beneath the sunlight as it circles beside the birds of the sky.
And because of you, they shall despair.
Come now, child!
Whisper to the blowing wind, to the shimmering heat rising from the earth, and to the waters that gather and flow.
Tell me—what rests within the hand you have drawn from the depths?”
The wind tearing through the darkness howled like a wounded beast fleeing an arrow.
It wasn’t the man’s fault that the campfire, which had kept the insects crawling along the cave walls at bay, had finally gone out. Knowing that, Legria pressed her dry lower lip between her teeth and curled herself up even tighter.
Perhaps then, the things that kept biting at her skin would cling to her a little less.
“……”
Darkness without even a single speck of light made people weak.
She hadn’t known that before.
There had never been a reason to know.
No matter how dark things became, she had lived in a world where light always existed somewhere.
Did she miss those days?
Well.
She wasn’t sure.
One thing was certain, however.
She hated this land with every fiber of her being.
Whenever tears she had desperately swallowed threatened to rise again, Legria would look at the man’s back instead of crying.
The faint warmth radiating from him.
With the fire gone, she had to trace his silhouette through the darkness, but she already knew.
She knew the countless scars carved across his bare back.
And she knew, by the warmth he emitted, that this massive, scar-covered man would never abandon her here and flee on his own.
Legria could distinguish danger through warmth and coldness.
It was the only ability she possessed.
Had she lacked even that, she might have gone insane long ago.
In a strange world, telling friend from foe was no different from distinguishing sugar from salt without tasting either.
In truth, there had been times when she wished her situation were only that simple.
But such hopes were useless, so she quickly abandoned them.
The man said nothing.
When he sensed she couldn’t sleep, he merely opened his eyes in silence.
He had been watching the extinguished campfire and the half-burned logs when, suddenly, his entire body tensed.
His huge frame stiffened instantly.
Was something outside?
Human, demon, beast—what did it matter?
None of them would be welcome.
As though to investigate, the man vanished in an instant.
Left alone, Legria clamped both hands over her mouth, afraid that even the sound of her breathing might reach whatever lurked outside.
If she could, she wanted to crawl into the deepest part of the cave and hide.
But the man had explained why that would be a terrible decision.
One of the easiest ways to catch fugitives was to smoke them out of caves.
Once the smoke filled the cavern, they would be forced to run out.
And if they were captured in that confused state, it was over.
It was better, he said, to remain near the entrance and watch for pursuers.
Legria knew nothing about escaping or being hunted.
All she could do was accept his judgment.
After all, he was strong.
A warrior.
And an enemy of the being she herself was trying to escape.
The enemy of her enemy was a friend, wasn’t that how the saying went?
Perhaps not a friend.
But at least someone with whom she could temporarily entrust her life.
Most importantly, he was fundamentally different from her.
She was a stranger to this world itself.
He was merely a stranger to the Empire.
“!”
Before she knew it, the man had returned and was standing before her.
Startled, Legria widened her eyes and awkwardly rose to her feet.
She knew what she was supposed to do when he looked down at her like that.
The man protecting her.
The man helping her escape her pursuers.
Generally speaking, there was only one thing males wanted.
Fortunately, however, he wasn’t a brigand.
Nor was he the sort of man who chased women indiscriminately.
He had once said that he would raise his manhood for only one woman.
Among his people, passionately loving a single mate from birth until death was a matter of honor and pride.
Even if Legria were sprawled before him with her pale legs exposed, he would never force himself upon her.
What he wanted now wasn’t some shameful payment in exchange for his help.
Though his gaze burned intensely…
“We have to go.”
“Okay.”
A short exchange.
Legria didn’t cry.
She didn’t complain.
She didn’t whine about her lack of sleep.
He judged.
She followed.
That was the only rule between them.
While the man swiftly erased all traces of the campfire, Legria struggled to her feet.
She tightened the laces of her shoes while massaging her blistered, swollen feet.
It hurt.
The pain was enough to make her fingers tremble.
Yet being caught and dragged back there frightened her far more.
More precisely…
Being thrown alive before him terrified her.
He’s not human.
There had been a time when Legria couldn’t distinguish the differences in people’s auras.
Back then, she had believed he was a good person.
Later, she tried convincing herself that perhaps he wasn’t truly evil.
She never should have.
How could she have known that something inhuman would wear a human face?
“We’re moving. Northwest.”
At the man’s whisper, Legria gritted her teeth and limped after him.
After watching her for a moment, he let out something between a sigh and a groan before crouching down.
“Get on.”
“I can walk—”
“You’ll get caught.”
“……”
Embarrassment.
Fear.
Anxiety.
Restlessness.
But greater than all of them was her self-loathing and her guilt toward him.
Legria had never imagined she could be this useless.
She hadn’t been particularly remarkable in her original world, either.
But to be this helpless here as well…
Everything she had spent her life learning in a desperate attempt to earn her family’s approval—
All the knowledge she had struggled to acquire after being told to be at least half as capable as her younger sibling—
None of it had any value here.
Even this frail body wasn’t originally hers.
What more was there to say?
Her dark crimson hair spilled over the man’s shoulder like a shadow consuming the night.
Legria hurriedly gathered it together, regretting that she had never cut it.
It was all because of him.
Because he had once remarked that he liked long hair, the innkeepers had never allowed her to cut it.
Not that she had access to anything sharp enough anyway.
There hadn’t even been knives at her place during meals.
She had never truly believed the claim that it was because she was precious.
But looking back now, she could see the truth.
Someone summoned before her had probably gone on a rampage with a knife.
“…Thank you.”
As Legria obediently climbed onto his back, the man simply tilted his chin.
Then came the wind.
As though all the patience he had shown until now had been meaningless, he burst through the forest at a speed beyond human capability.
Branches scraped against her cheeks.
Legria quickly lowered her head.
Her nose brushed against the sweat on the back of his neck.
That much contact couldn’t be helped.
If she failed to hold on properly and fell, she’d be seriously injured at best.
Legria had no desire to be that foolish.
Not at all.
He smells like dying embers…
His body was packed with dense muscle.
Even his neck felt solid.
Yet his scent wasn’t unpleasant.
It reminded her of vast grasslands.
Scorching sunlight.
Livestock grazing across endless plains.
The smell of unobstructed winds sweeping across the land.
The scent of dying fire.
And the disciplined strength of someone who understood the joy of protecting such a life.
The man’s people called themselves the Tuak Tribe.
Nineteen clans united together.
In an ancient tongue, Tuak meant:
To fight in order to protect.
People who did not trample others because they were strong.
People who used their strength to protect.
In truth, the man could have abandoned her.
Once he had regained his freedom, he could have left her behind and escaped the forest alone.
He would have been out long ago.
But he hadn’t.
He protected the useless Legria.
He kept his promise.
If it’s a tribe protected by a man like this, I want to stay there.
But she couldn’t.
Her very existence would only burden them.
And there were political complications as well.
Even if she went, she wouldn’t be welcomed.
She would only place the man who helped her in danger.
I don’t want to become a burden.
So his help would last only until they escaped the forest.
After that, she would survive on her own.
Alone.
In this terrible world.
Her heart sank.
She rested her cheek against his shoulder.
His muscles twitched.
He was probably annoyed.
Perhaps he wondered how she could already be unable to walk on her own.
But I wanted to do well too.
The Sacred Forest.
The Holy Imperial Court.
Holy Ones.
Languages she didn’t understand.
Spices she had never tasted.
Countless rules.
Rules.
Rules.
And…
Legria raised her eyes.
Above the rushing treetops floated four crescent moons.
Each one shaped exactly the same, as though they would fit perfectly together if overlapped.
Like flowers blooming across the night sky.
Something she could never have seen on Earth.
Even if she returned to her original world, no family would be waiting for her.
And even if she escaped this place, there was nowhere in this world where she truly belonged.
Still, she had to leave.
Anywhere was better than here.
Even if she could never return home.
Even if she had to survive in this world forever.
Anywhere was better than here.
That was why Legria had attempted this reckless escape.
Why she had even freed the man whom he had captured and imprisoned like an animal.
“Danger!”
In that instant, a chill raced down her spine.
A vicious presence surged toward them on the wind.
The moment she shouted, the man ducked.
THWACK!
An arrow struck the tree ahead of them.
The trunk trembled violently.
Its shaft was adorned with golden fletching.
An expensive arrow.
The very kind that only the Crown Prince could use.
The weapon he had once boasted could kill even the strongest demon in a single shot.
Had she not sensed the danger—
Had this man not been the strongest warrior of the Tuak Tribe, possessing martial prowess comparable to the Crown Prince himself—
She would have fallen instantly.
Captured in moments.
She didn’t want to imagine what would happen afterward.
A drop of blood ran down her cheek.
Legria wiped it away with the back of her hand and wrapped her arms tightly around the man’s neck.
Then she squeezed her eyes shut.
God…
If there truly is a God… please help me, just this once.
Today marked six months since she had been forcibly summoned into this absurd world.
According to the plans of those who brought her here, Legria should have been weeping hysterically on the Crown Prince’s bed tonight.
A pure sacrifice.
Her purity finally taken.
Then waiting for death as madness slowly consumed her.
Instead, she was fleeing on another man’s back.
And this…
This would undoubtedly provoke the Crown Prince.
“If you ever try to run away, hide well.”
“Do not let even a single strand of hair be seen.”
“Because if I catch you, I’ll make sure you can never walk again and force you to bear my child.”
The Crown Prince’s lazy, satisfied hunter’s voice echoed through her ears.
It had been thirteen days since she began fleeing his pursuers.
And little by little,
Legria was running out of patience.
