Several minutes passed as Faust continued tailing Yuser from a safe distance, moving quietly between the trees.
Yuser kept glancing behind him, scanning the area with excessive caution. It was weird, that is, to say the least. At times, he'd swing a dagger at nothing but air, then pause, breathe deeply, and resume walking. Occasionally, he would laugh or shed tears for no apparent reason, only to continue forward as if nothing had happened.
Though he was bloodied and on the verge of death, he didn't seem to be in pain. In fact, he didn't seem conscious at all. He moved like an empty cocoon drifting forward. Looking closer, Faust noticed that Yuser's brownish skin was marred by faint purple veins. They started from his ruined arm and extended across his chest.
Then the wind howled, carrying a beautiful and deep hum. His eyes darted around as he held his breath, remaining utterly silent.
Not far from him, a creature was approaching the Young Noble Demon. The monster's appearance sent a chill up Faust's spine.
Its body was humanoid, not much taller than Faust himself. It was grayish and hollow-looking, its long limbs dragging along the ground. But it had no head—or at least, not where a head should be. From behind it extended a bone-like tail, which branched into three smaller ones.
One bore a head, human-like, but eyeless, earless, noseless. Only a mouth remained: wide, gaping, and constantly humming in a low tone. It was hypnotic. In moments, Faust found himself almost humming along, but he resisted.
The central tail held a long, spiraling spike over a meter in length—completely bloodied. Faust immediately guessed it was responsible for Yuser's destroyed arm.
The third tail was the weirdest. A blackened sphere hovered at its end, from which small, star-like yellow lights shimmered. Faust felt an odd, magnetic pull toward it.
Despite the creature's terrifying appearance, Faust didn't feel afraid. He could only think of one thing:
Kill Yuser and pass the trial.
Before he even realized, he ignored the monster and rushed forward, decapitating Yuser in one swift motion, his sword edge sharp and shining. Blood sprayed like a fountain, drenching him.
But the fog didn't come. Instead, he found himself standing right in front of the monster. His body felt numb.
What… Where is the fog… why did I do that?
Though face to face with the creature, he still felt no fear, no caution... just an unnatural calm.
The monster remained still, but its low hum filled the entire forest. Faust blinked—and suddenly, he was somewhere else.
******
He was lying in bed, in a room he recognized. Looking at his arms, he noticed they were smaller. As he stepped down, he realized he was shorter, plumper. Outside the window, stars danced across a dark sky, accompanied by a beautiful and bright red moon.
Opening the door, he stepped out.
"This is my house…"
He muttered, his voice high and childlike. He wasn't older than six or seven.
In the dining room, his parents were eating and laughing. His father, Rust, glanced at him.
"Hey, what are you doing out of bed this late?" he said with a shake of his head. "If you don't sleep well, how are you going to grow?"
Faust blinked in confusion, scratching his head. What is this…? I could've sworn I was somewhere else… His memories were foggy.
His mother, Tiya, called him over, scooping him into her lap. They laughed together, and later, she tucked him into bed.
The next morning, Faust played with other kids, read books, and returned home by noon. Mickella and the others played their little games, and he joined in. It was quite fun, as he laughed and smiled.
That night, he ate and slept.
Another day passed.
While playing, a sharp pain attacked his right shoulder.
"Ahck…"
It grew stronger and he reported it to his parents.
"Don't worry, child," they said.
The next day, the pain intensified.
In bed that night, he woke up suddenly, gasping. His teeth clenched as he grabbed his shoulder. The previous numbness was gone, now only a burning pain remained.
He felt something wet. Looking down, he saw the bed melting, swirling like black ink. The walls, too, were dissolving.
He rushed to his parents' room, it was empty and melting as well. Running out of the house, he looked at the sky—it was collapsing, with the exception of the red moon.
Desperately searching the village, he found no one.
At the center of it all, he stood still on the dirt path. The wind howled. A headache tore through his skull as he twisted in pain, grabbing his head with both hands.
From the oozing world, figures emerged—his parents, his friends, the villagers.
He smiled, feeling safe for one fleeting second. But before he could speak, they rushed him.
"Wh-what is hap—"
A punch cut off his words. His father—or something that resembled him—hit him. Up close, it had no face. It, too, was melting.
Faust fell, a kick slamming into his gut. He vomited. The pain was excruciating.
Tears flowed as he was beaten, slashed, and trampled.
Eventually, the figures melted into the earth.
Motionless on the ground he stood, bloodied and barely breathing... until he wasn't breathing at all.
His eyes dulled. The red glow vanished. His pale skin was painted with blood.
Faust was dead.
Everything went black.
But then, in the next moment, his eyes shot open, and his breathing grew heavy.
"What the fuck?!"
He looked around as he cursed. He was back in his room, resting atop his bed. The sky outside was dark, filled with beautiful stars and the ever-watchful scarlet moon.
What just happened?
Grabbing his right shoulder, he winced as a sharp pain shot through it.
Soon enough, his memory grew foggy. As he left his bed, he noticed his body was small and chubby. Then he left the room and walked toward the main area, where his parents were.
They talked, laughed, ate together—and then he went back to sleep.
Days passed like that. He played with the other kids, read books, spoke with his parents.
Then, one night, something changed.
Faust noticed his bed was wet... and then, it started melting. Alarmed, he rushed out of the room and explored the rest of the house, which was empty. He wandered through the village, which to no surprise, was also empty.
Standing at its center, figures emerged from the collapsing darkness all around him.
This time, he found it strange, no smiles... he wanted to talk.
"Hey, what ar—"
His words were cut off by a sudden punch. Up close, their faces and bodies were melting, grotesque and shifting.
They kicked and punched him until all their bodies dissolved back into the earth.
As he looked up at the red moon, his vision went black.
He died again.
He woke up in his bed.
"Alright… what the fuck is happening… I have to get out."
He muttered as he got out of bed and ran into the woods. But after some time, his memories vanished again.
A faint hum echoed through the trees as the leaves trembled.
Confused about why he was in the middle of the forest, he turned around and returned to the village, easily finding his way back.
There, he laughed and ate and played—until he was killed again.
And it all repeated.
He escaped the village quickly, trying to remember what was happening. But each time he died, the pain in his right shoulder grew more intense. His mind was slow, thinking in complex things was too difficulty.
Eventually, he forgot again, returned to the village, and was killed once more.
Then, he woke in his bed again.
Three more deaths followed.
First, he gave up on leaving and tried attacking the people. They just treated him like an agressive child. Days later, he was beaten to death.
Then, he tried to ask them about it. They didn't seem to understand. A few days later, he was killed.
Finally, he stayed in his room, refusing to leave. When everything melted, he blinked... and found himself standing at the center of the village.
They killed him again.
Each death preserved a little more memory.
By the ninth death, his memories remained fully intact throughout each death. He was finally piecing it all together, as he remembered even more: the monster with the bone-like tail, Yuser's situation, the absence of the fog when he supposedly killed Yuser, everything was too weird.
His mind was sluggish, but the accumulating memories made one thing clear: he was trapped in some kind of looping illusion.
But the pain… the pain was still real.
Especially the searing agony in his shoulder. It worsened with each death, like something was burrowing deeper and deeper inside.
Not knowing how long he had been trapped, he began to gather his thoughts, trying to understand this madness, searching for a way out of this endless loop of death...
Truth is, Faust still hadn't given up. Though every death scarred him, though he longed to rest, he pressed forward. The agony was unbearable and the trauma overwhelming, but he endured, he had nothing else if not his resolve, after all.
Maybe him moving forward was just his resolve. Maybe it was his instincts kicking in.
Or maybe the madness was finally sinking its claws into Faust, dragging him past the edge of reason.
But for now, his focus was not that, but instead finding a way to leave this "place."
And then, just before he was beaten to death once more, an idea struck him.