“I’ll support you,” Emilio said, focusing up.

Roan nodded, “‘Preciate it!”

Though it hardly seemed necessary to lend his aid as with swiftness like a bolt of lightning, the red-haired adventurer left the bounds of the carriage and broke the distance between himself and the hog-beasts.

Though it wasn’t that Roan simply moved like lightning; the man swung his magically-manifested claymore towards one of the tall beasts, cleaving through it with sharpened flames before flicking his fingers towards the other, expelling a bolt of crimson lightning that blew its torso apart.

...

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“…I can’t die…not yet…” He mumbled weakly.

It all felt futile; the shreels of arachnids echoed throughout the forest-like park, following behind him as he felt his body hardly responding to his commands anymore.

“–Is that so? Then stay down for a moment, wouldja?”

The voice that spoke out to him was vaguely familiar; a masculine voice that was oddly optimistic for the situation.

As he looked up, his blurry vision could only make out the silhouette of the man standing over him, who had a flowing, black cape on his back and an arm that was gathering crimson flames.

Vandread…? No…who are…? He questioned.

....

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“No, no, no…!”

He frantically swatted his arm in a panic, backing away and picking himself up before slipping right into a curtain of webs.

“Gah…!”

It certainly wasn’t there before; the net of webs that entangled him as he thrashed his limbs about. The cobweb was made out of scarily powerful threads; they were adhesive, sticking to his clothes and skin as his physical strength alone wasn’t enough. In fact, it seemed the more he tussled, the more he was caught in the webs.

...

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“…This is what it means to be an adventurer, right…?” He questioned to himself in a whisper.

Just then, the silver-haired beasts made their move; shuffling through the treeline with unarthodox, zig-zag movements, they closed in on his position with swiftness.

There wasn’t a single droplet of fear that entered his bloodstream as he stood his ground, standing still as he waited for the beasts to come.

They moved carefully, but with speed that made them blurs–to normal eyes, that is. As one leapt towards him with its chest-mouth clamping down, he lifted a single hand in response.

...

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The rumbling was now greater than ever; what was once coming from deep below the sand as if coming from the trenches of an ocean, the vibrating approached quickly.

As he rose to his feet, a look of relief washed over Joel’s face as he closed his eyes, laying against the blue sand and relinquishing himself to whatever was coming.

…Melisande, I’ll be joining you soon…Joel thought.

Just as the azure grains of sand hummed with a frequency that tickled the back of the adventurer’s neck, he was suddenly lifted.

“Huh…? What is…?” Joel said weakly.

...

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“Hold on–!” Ethan yelled out.

It was impossible to maintain any stable footing to support his own strength in the life-or-death tug-of-war as the grains of blue sand continued to slip beneath his boots. So instead of utilizing magic to directly try and combat the issue engulfing Joel, he conjured stone footholds that shaped around his boots.

These rocky molds were directly rooted in the sand, embedding deep and allowing him to maintain his balance while knelt down, extending his arms and holding on with all of his strength.

“…It’s doing something to me! Hurry, Ethan–!” Joel cried out.

“I’m trying…!” Ethan yelled out.

....

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“I’ve got a question,” Ethan said, folding his arms over his chest.

“Y-yeah?” Joel looked over at him, hiding his arm.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, ignoring his companion’s odd behavior, “…Have you seen anybody with dark-brown skin and silver eyes? Wearing all-black clothes and kind of a sour attitude?”

“Huh? No, sorry, that doesn’t ring a bell,” Joel shook his head.

...

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The sheer volume of the blade-like hairs made it impossible to completely defend against, resulting in lacerations being etched on the hot-headed adventurer’s body, though he pressed on.

“Do it, Ethan…!”

“Yeah!”

Gathering his mana from the core of his being and spreading it throughout his body, he envisioned the stalwart nature of rock and the flowing element of water, mixing it together.

...

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“Are we good?” Ethan asked, catching his breath as he looked around the room.

It was an abandoned home, though it wasn’t as in poor shape as the shop he’d been in prior; the furniture was in order, except for a dark-wood table that had been toppled over.

Joel scratched his head, “Err, for the minute, yes…but, there’s a reason I wasn’t inside of a building when we met.”

“What’re you talking about?” He asked.

...

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Ethan accepted the man’s hand before looking at him, “Tell me—what’s really going on around here? It’s completely different from outside—I mean the sky, and well…everything.”

“You mean…the Foundation didn’t tell you?” Joel asked.

As he shook his head in response, he answered with a simple “No.” This seemed to frustrate Joel, who was a hot-headed fellow by the looks of things. It was difficult to tell how reliable of a fighter Joel was, but from his age and demeanor, he didn’t feel like ‘Vandread’ at all. He could see his adventurer badge; the dragon crest that bore a silver gem in the middle.

So he’s a B-rank adventurer?…That’s not reassuring, he thought.

...

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