???: "So it's you, [Skeirtest og olsnt]. By the decree of the Great Kingdom of Ganstaranz… you shall be beheaded here and now!"
Thus appeared the imposing figure of that man. However, Alcor wasn't even capable of perceiving him. A crushing pressure weighed upon his head, and a strong metallic scent of rust invaded his nostrils. Beyond that, he could feel his body simply fading into nothingness.
Mizard, who had her hands placed upon him, looked terrified — an expression of absolute fear as her slender, light body trembled rapidly. Even so, she did not stop illuminating the boy's abdomen.
Alcor: -----
???: "You… so you dare to support this intruder, huh? Fine…"
That resonant voice echoed in Alcor's ears before he could even perceive the rain, colors, or scent of the air.
Just before his eyes closed completely, he caught a glimpse of a massive sword about to strike him. And with that, his presence vanished entirely.
However, as if only an instant had passed, "Alcor" felt his heavy eyes beginning to open. And with it, his consciousness returned.
Even with blurred vision, he could make out something that left him utterly captivated — a slender, delicate face watching him intently through her beautiful green eyes.
???: "Alcor…"
Alcor: "Mi– Mizard, what happened to you!? You're way too hurt! I don't remember that lunatic getting back up again… Wait! Don't tell me that explosion was in vain…"
It was an unpleasant surprise — though waking up was good news, he couldn't properly express his anguish upon seeing how many wounds the "fragile" body of Mizard bore.
Yet Mizard didn't flinch; instead, she smiled softly at the worried boy.
Mizard: "Tell me, Alcor… are you okay? N–no–no! You shouldn't move yet!"
Alcor: "Aghk– No, this is nothing. Rather, where are we, Mizard?"
Alcor's sudden movement revealed Mizard's worry, for though Alcor didn't feel it, his body was still covered in bruises from the previous fight with Destiny.
Even so, Alcor forced himself to smile. "If I don't act the right way, I'll end up alone."
With that thought in mind, he rose quickly, slicing through the air with his arm.
Alcor: "Ha, this is nothing!"
Mizard: "Umm–"
However, the very next instant he felt a searing pain in his abdomen. Unable to endure it, he sat back down, pressing a hand over his stomach.
Mizard's expression showed both concern and mild annoyance at Alcor's stubbornness.
Mizard: "I told you so!"
She said this while lightly smacking her thighs with her soft hands.
Immediately after, she stood up quickly and leaned toward Alcor. As she raised her hand toward him, Alcor instantly felt an incredible comfort — his mind cleared, and he could finally relax.
Alcor: "–Wua~ah… this feels really soothing…"
Mizard: "It's Lymard. It'll help you feel better…"
Alcor: "Ly~mard…?"
The "Lymard" was indeed quite similar to magic. Alcor, who used to read comic books to kill time, had of course heard of magic in fantasy worlds — medieval ones, at that.
However, as he had already witnessed, this world was not medieval at all. While they didn't seem to have high-end technology like in his world, the city's architecture (tall, white buildings, drawbridges, and monumental use of something resembling quartz) certainly didn't belong to any medieval era.
Perhaps it was because, being another world, technological progress developed differently — and that could also explain the presence of magic here.
After a super–relaxed chat with a still–worried Mizard, Alcor asked, his face carrying a shade of doubt.
Alcor: "Lymard… is it some kind of
Mizard: "[...]
Alcor: "Wu~ah… so it's not like magic, I see…"
Mizard explained all of this way too energetically, a bright smile on her face as she moved almost childishly back and forth. Alcor, on his side, paid close attention to her rapid explanation.
Though he didn't know what "Loord" meant, he assumed it was something like the white blood cells in humans — responsible for healing. Something truly impressive.
While Alcor pondered deeply over her explanation, Mizard raised both arms and fluttered them around like a child before continuing.
Mizard: "Yes! Exactly! It must not be like that
With that, Alcor related it to a simple exchange — nutrients for healing. Basically, the normal function of a human body, only accelerated.
But then he remembered why they were even talking about this. What happened to Destiny? What happened at the end?
Alcor: ---
Looking at her silently, Alcor pondered. Mizard, noticing this, quieted her movements and muttered a soft "uh." Alcor, his gaze still piercing, continued.
Alcor: "Why are you so happy even after I blew up your house? Why did you defend me? More importantly… why am I still alive? That sword should've killed me instantly…"
Mizard froze, her brows arching as her mouth slowly opened.
Even so, the next instant she shook her head and placed her hand over her chest.
Mizard: "[...] The truth is, that house was abandoned… you know? It used to belong to my family. I swear! As for Destiny, no one knows where he is, but the army was repelled by me, ha! We got lucky!"
Alcor: "Mmmh… doesn't sound convincing, but I can't doubt her right now."
Though Mizard energetically denied his words, that same reaction was almost suspicious in itself.
Of course, Alcor trusted her anyway. She had healed him almost instantly — yes, during their talk he was completely recovered. Though he still felt a bit drowsy, his body could already move freely.
He had little room left for doubt.
Just as he was about to speak, Mizard interrupted energetically again — despite her lively gestures, her face now showed slight concern.
Mizard: "Anyway… I have to tell you that a decree from the kingdom can't be revoked. You'll be hunted forever until the sentence is carried out! You might be imprisoned if caught alive, but even then… you'll be executed by decapitation."
Alcor: "Huh? Are you saying… my life here has no meaning anymore!?"
Mizard, who stopped flailing her arms, still spoke with her usual energy, though her words carried deadly weight.
Naturally, Alcor didn't like that at all. He'd been happy thinking that maybe if he escaped a bit, the case would close — like in his old world. However, learning that he'd be hunted to the ends of the kingdom until beheaded completely changed the rules of the game.
Even if he could run, he could never live freely.
And remembering his old self from just days ago, he thought: "I should… I should…" Should what?
Alcor, trembling, the corners of his mouth tense and his eyes losing their sharpness, raised his gaze. Around him stretched a beautiful green meadow. Why was he in a peaceful place like this? In truth, that seemed trivial to him now.
He simply looked at Mizard firmly.
Alcor: "Mizard… this time, I won't run."
Mizard: "Uh? What are you trying to say?"
Alcor spoke with total seriousness, leaving Mizard — usually so energetic — completely stunned.
He walked a bit, turning his back to the stairs where they were, and after a few seconds spotted a simple stick on the ground. Being in a meadow, it could've just been a fallen branch.
But it didn't seem like that. About 40 centimeters long, thick enough to break bones with sufficient force — that was the "stick" he found.
It looked utterly ordinary, yet Alcor found it sufficient. Picking it up, his expression shifted from seriousness to complete calm.
Mizard: "Hey, hey, hey, what are you planning to do with that? Don't tell me—"
Alcor: "Yeah. I'm going to face those bastards."
Mizard quickly stood and rushed after him, realizing his intent. Of course, facing around 50 soldiers with a simple stick was ridiculous to anyone.
Yet Alcor seemed confident. Was he a martial arts expert? No — that confidence didn't seem born from expecting victory.
Mizard: "B–but you'll die if you do that! Don't be ridiculous! What can you do with that stick!?"
Alcor refused to answer her worried words. Instead, a question crossed his mind:
"Why is she still here with me?"
Sure, offering a meal to thank someone who saved you was normal in any culture — but staying with that person even through mortal danger was… strange.
Without turning to look at her, he asked quietly.
Alcor: "Why are you still with me? Shouldn't you have left already?"
Mizard: ----
Mizard fell silent behind him. Alcor didn't know her expression, but he assumed she was stunned by the question.
Still, he reorganized his thoughts. Yes, he was about to explode. The situation was horrible, and he didn't want to dive deeper into it.
Alcor: "Fine. If you don't want to say it, don't — but… let me do this."
Mizard: "No! This is comple—"
Before she could finish, the sound of something like a horn echoed across the meadow.
Mizard: "It's them—!"
Alcor, however, didn't look worried. Instead, he remained calm, even confident. But Mizard kept pleading again and again:
"You don't understand!"
"Don't go!"
"You'll die!"
She even grabbed his arm, and that — that ended Alcor's feigned confidence. He shoved her aside.
He saw her then — so worried, so desperate. And he saw himself, pushing away the girl who only wanted to protect him.
But his thoughts didn't change. The flood he had tried to contain finally burst.
Alcor: "That I don't understand!? What the hell would you know about me, huh!? My whole stupid, miserable life I've been looked down on, beaten, hated. I never fought back! Some thought I was kind… but I wasn't! Damn it… how could anyone call something like me good!? What do you know about not understanding!? I know! I know I'm going to die if I go!"
Mizard: ----
Alcor: "I thought that by coming to this world, I could start my life anew… I thought things unimaginable would happen… I thought I could be happy! But the first thing I saw was misery, continued contempt… nothing changed! I tried to be good — I thought acting kindly would make people see me differently… but even now, even now I'm sentenced to death, for a stupid thing I don't even understand! Why the hell did this have to happen to me!?"
Tears began to fall from his eyes, his legs weakened — but that pressure finally began to lift from his chest.
This boy, a nobody in a different world… what could he possibly do?
Mizard: ----
Alcor: "I'm not kind, or smart, or strong… I was just a coward. But… even now, I have the chance to choose how I'll die. And without a doubt… I'd rather die fighting for once in my life than spend it running forever."
His legs trembled; he lowered the arms he had swung in frustration and dropped the stick he'd been holding. He couldn't kneel — not because his body refused, but because he refused.
His body shook, trembling — and at last, he released the weight he'd been dragging for so long.
But even then, Mizard couldn't understand. She had never dealt with something like this before.
So witnessing it was a shock — yet, with her heart soft and tears almost forming, she raised her hand toward Alcor while clutching her chest with the other.
Mizard: "I don't want to see you die… I don't want to be part of that… However — I'll help you. I'll help you fight. I'll heal you with my hands… maybe I can't fight hand-to-hand, but… I can make your body endure more than you imagine… A~and if you die… you'll be remembered as the man who challenged a platoon alone — bloody, weak, covered in mud, with nothing but a stick."
That was… a powerful declaration for Alcor. He had never imagined anyone would offer him a hand.
Mizard's warm voice charmed his ears and soothed his mind.
Maybe it sounded trivial, but it made him feel as cared for as when he spoke with Isabella. Of course, he hadn't forgotten Isabella, even after more than half a year. Though he had overcome the loss of his old world, he hadn't lost what he'd felt in it.
He gazed into Mizard's crystal-green eyes, then at the slender hand she offered him. Though he still wondered why she would do that, he didn't hesitate. He took her hand.
Alcor felt his heart grow lighter, his body regain strength, and a white glow radiate from Mizard's hands.
That boy — still dirty, dressed in nothing but torn, bloodstained rags — regained his determination.
He released Mizard's hand and bent down to pick up the stick he'd dropped.
Then, looking confidently at her and then toward the sunset, he declared:
Alcor: "Alright, Mizard… thank you for supporting my
Mizard: "Ummm— what does
(Author's note: As known, the conversation naturally occurs in the language of that world. Therefore, words spoken in Alcor's native tongue will appear within "<>.")
Alcor: "It's better if you don't know."
Thus, after Alcor played a little with words, they continued on their way to intercept the platoon, which had given away its position with the horn.
Walking barely a hundred meters from the meadow to the small town, they saw in the distance about fifty men marching on foot. Naturally, Alcor had expected them to be on horseback.
Mizard: "Alright, I'll stay back. Please, make sure you don't die."
Alcor: "Ha, of course!"
And so, Mizard bid Alcor farewell for now, as he went to confront the platoon in a show of determination.
Of course, it was obvious he would lose. Whether he died or not no longer mattered to him.
He simply stepped out of hiding toward them, walking slowly, swinging his stick side to side while staring at the imposing figure that seemed to be their leader.
With a voice comparable to a lion's roar, the man pointed at Alcor.
???: "So you've come to your judgment, [Skeirtest og olsnt]."
However, Alcor took a moment before replying. Staring at the man in a star-patterned black robe, he swung his stick toward him and spoke with complete confidence.
Alcor: "I am Alcor, the Nobody from Another World — and I've come to challenge you."
???: "Your recklessness deserves applause, boy. I can't tell if you're brave or merely lacking reason. I am
『AlMAND OG GANSTARANZ』, and I shall pronounce your judgment. Bring him alive!"
— "YES, SIR!" —
That imposing figure introduced himself out of respect for Alcor.
By giving the order to take him alive, Alcor indeed felt relieved. It was a chance — if they didn't kill on sight, he could recover infinitely. The soldiers answered by striking their sword sheaths against the ground before ten of them rushed toward him.
The reason only ten advanced could be many, but likely it was to avoid getting in each other's way.
Alcor: "[...] Here they come…"
Quickly, one of them swung in reverse — Alcor barely managed to block it with his stick, which miraculously held. But before he could think, another soldier's spinning kick landed in his abdomen, throwing him several meters into a wall.
The impact stunned him, but immediately he felt relief — probably thanks to Mizard, who watched the battle from afar, healing him.
Even so, four of them attacked in quick succession, one after another, slashing his arms and legs. Alcor couldn't defend at all.
Yet, recovering instantly, he stood and swung his stick, striking one of the soldiers forming a circle. They were caught off guard, having assumed victory.
Still, he was taken down again by the one beside him, who delivered a simple kick — yet Alcor rose once more.
The soldiers stood baffled, but didn't hesitate. Together, they attacked again — slashing his limbs, one kicked his abdomen, another spun a kick from behind, a third held him to land punches to his stomach and finished with a spinning blow to his head.
The eighth struck Alcor's face with his sword's hilt, knocking him down.
Finally, the ninth and tenth pointed their swords at him. His vision blurred, his body burned all over — though he healed instantly, the pain never faded completely.
9 & 10: "Surrender. There's nothing you can do."
Alcor, blood still running down his face, answered dryly, "Yeah, I know," and smirked cynically before striking both in the abdomen with his stick.
They were stunned. In an instant, the now-healed Alcor took the offensive — swinging his stick with surprising skill, as if he'd trained for months, hitting both across the face. The rest attacked again immediately.
But now, knowing their attack pattern, he spun 180 degrees, dodging their
Consequently, another of them struck Alcor's abdomen, sending him flying again toward the same wall.
Alcor: 「Damn it, this wall again」
Before the next blow reached his face, he skillfully moved to the right, then down, dodging 2 more strikes.
It seemed as if he was moving faster; this appeared to be because Mizard was also stimulating his muscles, allowing Alcor to move quicker by lightening the impact of the blows.
However, this didn't change much. Even though he skillfully dodged the slashes, they still landed, cutting his limbs again.
He recovered instantly, repelling 2 charging at him with a circular strike from both sides, but even so, someone to his left landed a thrust to his unprotected rib.
Something they shouldn't have done, since they weren't allowed to kill him—but probably noticing Alcor's regeneration, they no longer cared about attacking lethally.
In the same manner, one of them slashed Alcor's neck.
This scared him greatly. Even though he recovered too quickly, he lost his stance due to a kick to his calf from someone else.
As he fell, one of them pressed on his abdomen, preventing him from moving.
???: 「Filth, why do you regenerate, huh?」
Only to then repeatedly strike Alcor with the scabbard of his sword.
This pain was unbearable; he could feel every slash across his body. The burning sensation remained, even though he had regenerated.
And as Mizard had mentioned, his body began to weaken—but he still refused to give up.
Alcor: 「Ha! I haven't lost yet」
While that soldier continued hitting him with the scabbard, Alcor quickly landed a 90-degree strike from the floor to his face.
This immediately forced the soldier to step back, but Alcor continued—kicking with both legs, he struck the soldier's abdomen, then jumped off the floor.
The soldiers, still composed, attacked again, but this time it was different. Alcor took advantage of the longer reach of his weapon, with quick thrusts to the abdomen, head, and finally a spinning strike to one of their ears, managing to knock one down.
He quickly received a kick from behind; however, he turned swiftly and struck the one coming from the side with a thrust to the abdomen.
Although calling it a thrust would be more appropriate for a sword, Alcor moved the stick so nimbly that he could easily be seen as a swordsman.
Consequently, recognizing the enemies' pattern, he turned quickly, maneuvering his stick to strike one of them in the face. Of course, Alcor didn't know he was coming from there—he just trusted his instincts.
This repeated. Alcor was able to defend himself skillfully…
However, his body began to tire, since despite having the advantage of constant regeneration, it also weakened him.
Because of this, he began losing his stance, and the group cornered him again, repeatedly striking his face. Alcor began to lose consciousness.
Even though he regenerated, he could no longer stand. In fact, if this continued, he could lose all nutrients and end up dying…
This was fortunate for Mizard, who was watching from a tall whitish building in the distance, so she stopped healing Alcor.
At that moment, Alcor began to feel all the burning of the slashes again, every blow to his abdomen. His head spun, his mouth felt disgusting, and the smell and taste of rust invaded his senses.
As regeneration stopped, blood filled his mouth, preventing him from making any sound; however, the soldier above him didn't care and continued striking him over and over with the scabbard.
Faced with this, Alcor's consciousness slowly faded, losing all senses, smiling with blood over his mouth without knowing if he could do it again.
[Alcor the Nobody Lost]