After finally filling his stomach for the first time in a while, Yujin lay on a worn-out mattress and stared at the ceiling.
How long would they have to rest in such a miserable environment, inside a crumbling, abandoned building?
Even the sword he carried wasn't of high quality. It was something he had obtained through a contract with a local blacksmith, as was Theresis's weapon.
Thinking back to how much that old man tried to exploit them just because they had no official status made Yujin's teeth ache, but there was no choice. Shabby clothes and the name "Sarkaz" didn't exactly open doors in this world.
"Sarkaz." Yujin had never heard the word before coming here, but he quickly realized it was synonymous with "demon."
A non-human race—the Sarkaz were essentially what Yujin knew as demons. Kuranta were horses, Caprini were goats, Cautus were rabbits, Feline were cats.
The proper nouns had given him a headache at first, but now his mind filtered them automatically. As time passed, he could see the discrimination and persecution against the Sarkaz worsening. It was likely because the vast majority of the race suffered from Oripathy.
Kazdel, the nation founded by the Sarkaz, remained silent. Lacking power, it was a constant target for provocation from other nations—a literal punching bag for the world.
"Sigh..."
Because Kazdel could not protect them, the Sarkaz wandered. Most used their Infection as a desperate advantage, working as roaming mercenaries. But the life of a mercenary was a life spent trading away one's lifespan.
Most Sarkaz were Infected. Arts are manifested through Originium, the very cause of the disease. Those with Oripathy can manifest stronger Arts than ordinary people, but in return, the disease progresses faster. Ultimately, it was power bought with one's remaining life.
This was why Yujin stopped Theresia or Theresis whenever they tried to use Arts. Using Arts without a refined training method invited a lethal backlash.
It was almost impossible to awaken and learn Arts on one's own without a master. Yet, Yujin was forging a path by using his own body as a test subject.
Strangely enough, his body seemed to have an absurdly high adaptation rate to Originium. Usually, if someone absorbed or ingested Originium, they would immediately go into shock and die. Even the lucky survivors would develop terminal Oripathy.
But Yujin was different.
Because of this bizarre situation where he could absorb Originium to build his own strength, he had to keep it a secret. If he were in a position where no one could touch him, it might be different, but as a gutter orphan, he'd likely end up on an experimental table.
Yujin manipulated his Arts again, creating a platinum light that floated around, casting a warm glow.
"...What are you doing by yourself?"
He realized Theresia was lingering by the door. Yujin had known she was there even before she spoke. When one becomes accustomed to using Arts, their senses expand. Since Yujin kept his Arts circulating constantly, sensing his surroundings was natural.
On Theresia's arm, visible beneath her light dress, were protruding Originium crystals.
"Just practicing Arts, as usual."
"You never let us use them, though."
Like a girl her age, Theresia pouted as she looked at him.
"It's better to stay away from Arts unless they are engraved into a circuit."
One could use Arts without being the source by engraving circuits into objects—like a tea kettle with an Originium circuit for heating that could boil water on its own.
"Those things are so expensive we can't even touch them."
Convenient, but overpriced. That was the drawback.
"Maybe one day we will."
"Wouldn't it be better if you just taught us Arts instead?"
Theresia's eyes sparkled, but Yujin cut her off firmly.
"No. Just wait a little longer. I'm almost there."
At his blunt refusal, Theresia sat on the sofa beside him. She gave his arm a sharp pinch—her way of expressing dissatisfaction.
"Today, and in the past... you always try to handle everything alone. What if an enemy appears that you can't handle by yourself?"
"Then that's just how it is. Besides, if it's an enemy I can't handle, you wouldn't be able to either."
"...You really won't give an inch, will you?"
With a huff, Theresia patted Yujin's shoulder. It was more of a light tap since she wasn't putting any strength into it.
She then reached out to wrap her hands around the platinum light floating in the air before leaning her head against Yujin's shoulder.
"You didn't... kill those people, did you?"
"No."
Tur and his gang, who had crossed the line today, weren't dead. However, they would spend the rest of their lives missing a limb. No killing, but ensuring they could never repeat their actions—that was the promise between Theresia and Yujin.
"...I wish things like this wouldn't happen."
With those words, Theresia quietly closed her eyes.
"I wish so, too," Yujin replied.
A day passed, then a month, yet the sky remained its gloomy, dismal color. Yujin clicked his tongue at how consistently depressing it looked.
He was currently walking through the outskirts of the backalleys. While educating those who crossed the line was part of his routine, he had a day job.
Near the outer edge, a child was selling newspapers. Yujin approached and handed the child some LMD (Lungmen Dollars).
"A copy of the paper, please."
"Yes, sir!"
Buying a paper on the way to work was a habit. The boy handed it over immediately, and in return, Yujin gave him a small portion of the boar meat he had packed this morning.
"Here, eat up."
"W-wow... Are you sure I can have this meat?"
The child devoured the roasted meat instantly. Yujin watched for a moment before turning to the news.
As expected of a newspaper circulated in the slums, the quality was poor. it just gave a rough idea of what was happening in the outside world, most of it useless information. However, there was one project all nations were currently pouring their efforts into: Nomadic Cities.
Moving cities.
When he first heard of them, he thought it was nonsense, but thanks to Originium, engineers had actually created such absurdities.
"They're really pouring money into this."
"Huh?"
"Nothing. Just enjoy the meat. I'm off."
"Okay, Yujin! Stay safe!"
As Yujin stood up, the boy bowed deeply. It was time for work.
The rhythmic sound of hammer on iron echoed through the air. Inside, it was hot and smelled of acrid metal. This was Yujin's destination. As he opened the door, a man with a perpetually angry face was waiting.
"You're late! Can't you ever show up early?"
"I'm not late. I'm exactly on time."
"Then you should've been here ten minutes early to prepare!"
"Well, feel free to find someone else then."
"Arrgh!"
A stubborn old man, Aorn, shouted at Yujin, but Yujin just started preparing for work without a word. Aorn was the blacksmith who had made Yujin's sword—the only blacksmith in these backalleys.
When Yujin placed his sword on the table, Aorn reflexively took it, only to let out a scream the moment he saw the blade.
"Dammit! How do you even use a sword to end up like this!?"
"This one had a particularly sharp edge."
"You lunatic! Are you using the sword as a club?!"
It wasn't that Yujin didn't maintain his weapon. He always wiped and polished it after combat. If it was still breaking...
Aorn swallowed his words. It meant the sword was breaking because it couldn't keep up with its master. It was a standard blade forged for normal people. It couldn't withstand the Arts of its wielder.
Aorn had known for a long time that Yujin used Arts. But even if he wanted to make a sword worthy of him, he didn't have the materials.
Aorn sighed, holding his head. Yujin asked, "Does your head hurt, old man?"
"...I wonder whose fault that is."
"So, should I take the day off then?"
"Good grief, seriously."
As Yujin jokingly moved the piles of ore in the corner, Aorn gestured as if to hit him with his hammer.
"Stop talking nonsense and help. Who knows? If you learn my trade, maybe you could go to Leithanien and work in a real workshop."
"Forget the trade. Blacksmithing is too tedious for me. I'm much better at swinging a blade than making one."
Forging required patience. Though Aorn saw talent in Yujin, he didn't push it further. He knew Yujin's gift lay in combat.
"By the way, there's a strange rumor going around."
"...What rumor?"
"They say members of the 'High Places' are touring the backalleys. Purging gangs that cross the line while they're at it."
There was only one place "high up" for the Sarkaz.
The Kazdel Royal Court. They were sending people down to the slums.
"I hope they kill all the scum while they're at it."
"And what about you?"
"What about me?"
"To those high-and-mighty types, you and those thugs are just irritants. Keep a low profile for a while."
To the Royal Court, Yujin was likely no different from the gangs—just another nuisance.
Yujin responded simply.
"Tell them to try me. I don't plan on losing."
"They say ignorance is bliss, and you're the living proof."
"Have you ever seen me lose to anyone? Don't worry."
Aorn couldn't imagine Yujin losing either. But as one grows old, one grows fearful.
"Still, be careful."
"I know."
The Kazdel Royal Court. Yujin thought of that group as he moved the equipment.
Just how are they running this country for it to end up like this?
He was truly starting to wonder.