(Sara POV)
Everything still felt hazy. My body, my thoughts—like I was floating just beneath the surface of a dream I couldn't fully wake from.
The last thing I clearly remembered was our mission moving through Trier Forest. Then came the chaos. A herd of Snow Buffalo broke through the treeline, scattering us in every direction.
I tried to regroup with the others, but before I knew it, something far worse had found me.
An Icefall Treant.
I don't even remember how it caught me… everything just turned to black in the next moment.
And then, somehow—I was saved. By someone I didn't recognize.
A stranger with the oddest eyes I'd ever seen: mismatched irises, both pierced by silver slits. It should have been unsettling, but it wasn't. If anything, those eyes felt... steady. Safe. Like confidence was radiating from his eyes alone.
I shouldn't be thinking like this. Not about someone I just met.
But still—he was the one who pulled me out of that nightmare. I owed him my life. That much was clear from the way my limbs refused to obey me, how weak I still felt even after being rescued. If he hadn't shown up when he did…
He carried me—literally—on the entire way back to Rosenburg. And gods, he was fast on his feet.
But what truly caught me off guard was how we moved—weightless, like the wind itself carried us. Was it magic? A tool? I couldn't tell.
And for a Magician, he seemed rather fit physically. As I wrapped my arms around his neck, one of my hands unintentionally slipped down to his chest. I noticed he wasn't wearing armor, but it was clear he had some muscles.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the gates of Rosenburg came into view—and just beyond them, I saw Susanne, Timothy, and Patris. Standing at the edge of the city, they looked like they were about to leave... probably to search for me.
When they saw me on Ryuta's back, they stopped cold. Shock, disbelief, relief—all of it written on their faces.
"We were about to give up," Susanne would tell me later. "We thought you were…"
I tried to call out to them, to run into their arms, but as soon as my feet hit the ground, my legs gave way.
I barely made it two steps before I collapsed.
But I didn't hit the dirt.
A strong arm wrapped around my waist, catching me just in time.
"Careful," Ryuta said gently, steadying me. "Take it easy. You still haven't recovered."
His voice was calm, like a quiet current beneath rushing rapids. It helped ground me.
I looked up at him, about to speak, but something about how he held my gaze caught the words in my throat. There was something hidden in those eyes—sadness? Guilt?
Or maybe I was imagining it.
Either way… I owed him everything.
Before I could even catch my breath, Susanne rushed over, her eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears. She dropped her weapon and collapsed to her knees, pulling me into a desperate embrace.
"Sara…! Oh gods, Sara—you're alive," she whispered, voice cracking. "When we got separated and the monsters started pouring in, I thought—" Her words cut off as her grip around me tightened. "I thought we lost you."
I leaned into her, overwhelmed. I hadn't realized how close they'd come to giving up—how close I'd been to never making it back.
Then Timothy approached, slower, more composed, but even he looked like he'd just walked out of a nightmare. He glanced between Susanne and me, then turned his attention to Ryuta.
"Thank you," he said firmly, extending a hand. "You saved her life. We owe you more than I can put into words."
Ryuta, who had been standing just behind me, accepted the handshake with a modest nod. "I'm just glad I got there in time."
"Name's Timothy. And you are…?"
"Ryuta," he replied simply. "Just passed through when I found her during my search for materials."
He paused for a moment, then glanced at me before continuing, "But Sara should be looked after first. She's not fully out of danger yet."
"Right," Susanne said, already shifting to help me stand. "Come on. Let's get you back to the inn—Patris will want to see you too."
She supported me gently, half-carrying me as we began moving toward the city gate. I tried to walk on my own, but my legs were still too shaky.
As we crossed the threshold back into Rosenburg, I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder.
Ryuta remained where we left him, speaking quietly with Timothy and Patris, who had just arrived. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but they looked serious. Focused.
He didn't look back at me.
And yet, for some reason, I couldn't stop looking at him.
Who was he, really? And why does it feel like he was meant to find me?
***
It felt refreshing to get cleaned, eat something, and finally lie on a soft bed after what happened to me.
Ryuta said that the Treant sapped the nutrients from my body, so my exhausted state was more than understandable since I could've died without his help. Who knows? Maybe he even used some Healing Magic to save me.
But the question still lingered—why had he saved me at all?
"You're thinking about that guy, don't you?"
Susanne stood beside the door and watched me with a teasing smile.
"N-No!" I yelped, covering my face into my pillow.
Why is she always so teasing whenever boys are involved? It's not even like I have a crush on him. I'm just curious as to what his actual reason for coming here was.
It didn't take long before Timothy came softly knocking on the door, and Susanne let him in.
"I see that you're doing better," he warmly said, the relief in his voice evident.
"What did this Ryuta guy say?" Susanne asked as I began sitting up in my bed.
"I think he went to look for Mimir."
"What?!" I said as I jumped up from my bed. "Why would he go that far?"
"I'm guessing after he'd listened to how you got desperate from us and that Mimir was also missing, he went out for him as well."
"On his own again? He can't be serious."
"I don't think that will be a problem at all."
Susanne and I just looked at Timothy, confused. He seemed like he was serious in his words, barely a worry in his eyes.
"You know," he started off saying with a hand on his chin and looking up at the ceiling. "I had my suspicion earlier, but now that I think about it some more, he might be the infamous Magician people in the Northern Territories are talking about these days."
"What is it that makes him so famous that people are discussing him?" I inquired.
"Not only can he cast spells without speaking a single incantation, but he's renowned for his craftsmanship of Magic Tools. They say he gathers the materials for his creations on his own."
That actually explains my earlier questions. He really was just going after the Treants' branches, and he used his magic to manipulate the wind around us.
"But how did you conclude that he is this renowned Magician in the first place?"
"It's the rather obvious nickname," he started off before pointing at his eyes. "They call him the Odd-Eyed Magician, rumored to have at least Emperor-class capabilities in Magic."
My breath caught for a moment.
'Odd-Eyed Magician…?'
I blinked. "Seriously? That's what people call him?"
Timothy nodded, completely serious. "It sounds ridiculous, I know. But I've heard the rumors myself—mostly in passing from merchants and adventurers coming up from the Ranoa Kingdom, where he's a student at the academy. A Magician with mismatched eyes who never chants his spells. Who crafts Magic Tools by hand, mostly things that are used in household chores, and generally avoids those who are only seeking him for things like profit gain."
"I've… never heard that nickname before," I admitted, brow furrowed.
Susanne shrugged. "Neither have I, honestly. Sounds made up."
"I thought so too," Timothy said with a chuckle. "But after meeting him—seeing him up close—I'm starting to think there might be some truth to it."
I looked down at my hands, still faintly trembling from exhaustion. My mind drifted back to how effortlessly Ryuta moved, how calm his voice stayed even when I was barely holding myself together. That strange sensation of floating through the woods like the wind itself was carrying us. His strength, his silence, the subtle way he kept me safe without asking for anything in return.
He had no reason to help. No obligation. And yet he came, fought, and brought me back without hesitation.
"He didn't even tell us who he was," I whispered.
"People like him, who are aware of the problems coming with fame, rarely do," Timothy said. "He seemed honest, even telling me in advance that he doesn't need any kind of compensation for saving you."
I slowly leaned back into my pillow, staring up at the wooden ceiling. My heart still hadn't fully caught up to everything that had happened.
But one thing was clear now—whoever Ryuta was, he wasn't just some average adventurer. He was something far more. Someone powerful. Mysterious. Selfless in a way that made me feel strangely small. But what is it that makes him
"Even if I've never heard of him before," I said softly, "I believe you, Timothy. He's… someone special."
Susanne crossed her arms, smirking again. "Getting awfully sentimental, aren't we?"
I ignored her, just this once.
Because deep down, I knew—whatever Ryuta's past was, whatever he carried behind those odd eyes—he had saved me.
I just hope I get the chance to say my thanks more properly soon enough.
***
The warmth of the room, the soft sheets, the quiet hum of safety—it all vanished in a blink.
*Thunk*
Pain bloomed in the back of my head. My vision flared white, and the world flipped sideways.
I didn't even have time to scream.
The next thing I knew, I was on the ground. My limbs felt numb—no, bound. Rope dug into my wrists and ankles, tight and unyielding. A thick, musty cloth was yanked over my head, plunging me into darkness.
My breath caught. Panic surged.
'W-What the hell?!'
I tried to yell, but my voice came out muffled. Was I gagged?
I thrashed instinctively, heart racing, but it was no use. Whoever had me knew what they were doing. I could hear movement around me—footsteps, low voices—but it was impossible to tell how many. Or where I was being taken.
"She's lighter than I thought. Must be because she's an archer."
"Shut up and move. We're almost there."
The air suddenly grew damp. Moldy. A shed? A warehouse?
They set me down on a hard surface—a dirt floor. I could smell sawdust, blood, sweat, and something rotten.
Then I heard more voices. Footsteps. A door creaked open.
"She's secured?" someone asked. Older. Confident.
"Yeah, but we had to ditch the rest of the party."
"What? What rest?"
"Complications. Her friends caught on. We had to... handle it."
"Wait—you mean...?"
"They're dead. All of them. The older lady tried to hold us off and give the others a chance to take her back, but it didn't work. The other two stood no chance."
"You fool! At least say where you left the bodies. Otherwise, we have to leave the city asap."
My heart stopped as I listened to what they were saying.
'No. No, that can't be true. They can't be dead. This has to be a dream!'
Tears began to well up, but the gag absorbed most of them before they could escape. I tried to scream, to struggle, but the ropes bit into my skin, and all that came out were pathetic whimpers.
"They were just supposed to scare her, not get them killed!"
"Now what? The contract said to do whatever we want with her. Are we gonna sell her to the slave merchant, or..."
There was silence for a moment. Then a new voice spoke, darker, lower, before one of them spoke up.
"Seems a shame to waste her," one of them muttered, voice slick with something vile. "Pretty thing like this… wouldn't hurt to enjoy the goods before we hand her off."
My blood ran cold.
No. No. Please, not that. Anything but that.
I thrashed again, twisting my wrists against the ropes, my skin scraping raw. My breath came in frantic, shallow gasps. The gag muffled my scream, but I didn't stop trying.
"Still got some fight in her," another said, amused.
Rough hands grabbed my shoulders, forcing me down.
'No. Gods, no, please—!'
I kicked out wildly, caught something—a shin? I heard a grunt of pain. Another pair of hands caught my ankles, pinning them. My stomach turned. I couldn't breathe.
"Hold her still," one of them growled. "She'll squirm no matter what. They always do."
I wanted to scream until my throat tore open. I wanted Ryuta. I wanted someone—anyone—to make it stop.
"I think she understood that one."
"Whatever, just make it quick."
I wanted to die. Right now. Better that than—
*CRASH*
The entire shed shook. Wood splintered. A wall caved in somewhere nearby.
"What the—?!"
Then came the screams. Not shouts. Screams. Agonized, panicked, dying screams.
Something exploded. A shockwave made the air crackle. I felt blood spray on my leg—someone close to me had just died.
Then silence. Total. Only the crackle of flames and the slow, deliberate echo of approaching footsteps.
The bag over my head was torn off.
I blinked hard.
The light from a nearby fire cast his shadow on the floor before I saw him fully.
Ryuta.
He was crouching before me. His mismatched eyes burned in the dim light, silver, glowing like twin moons.
Behind him lay bodies—broken, still, sprawled across the shed. And yet, Ryuta stood untouched, calm amid the carnage.
Some might see him as a demon sent to punish the wicked. But to me... He looked like salvation.
///