Garfiel grimaced, feeling the prickling, burning sensation on his skin as he violently kicked the fallen leaves.

“You’re really pulling this off, huh?”

Though the words were muttered in irritation, there was a genuine spark of admiration behind them.

The reason for his defeat was thinking too lightly of the opponent, just as that man had remarked. That was an undeniable fact.

Garfiel had undoubtedly underestimated Otto, believing he had no combat strength whatsoever.

“The fire magic ore… What was up with not using the strong stuff, huh?”

In an instant, a curtain of flames enveloped his vision.

That brief moment scorched his rigid body and then it vanished, which Garfiel remembered bitterly.

It was nothing more than a bluff, a mock attack. He could feel a slight sting on his skin, but it was barely different from sunburn and nowhere near damaging.

But there was one thing he could say for sure.

“If that had been a lethal hit, I wouldn’t have escaped unscathed…!”

That critical moment was dodged due to his opponent’s judgment.

What else could this be called other than being shown mercy? He had been caught off guard, and now he found himself made a fool of by someone who had been careful not to knock him out.

This left him feeling far too pitiful and foolish.

“Are you kidding me…?!”

What irked him even more was that the one who made the attack had completely ignored Garfiel, who was dazed by the flames, opting instead to flee in an instant. His decisive action left Garfiel, who was slow to respond, completely unable to track Otto.

Soft earth. Piles of fallen leaves. He ran skillfully across a terrain that should have been unfamiliar to him. It was easy to believe he had been wandering the forest at night.

However, if it turned into a pure chase, there was no way Otto could escape Garfiel. Garfiel could close the distance in two steps for every ten Otto took. The difference in physical ability and species was immense.

However, Otto was covering even that with his cleverness.

“—What the…?! What the hell?! My… Ah! Damn it, my nose is going crazy!”

As he attempted to chase after Otto, a painful stench sharply penetrated Garfiel’s nostrils the moment he inhaled. He tilted his head back, wincing from the stabbing pain enough for his vision to blur.

Looking down, he saw a transparent bottle tossed where Otto had been standing just moments ago. A colorless liquid poured from the open cap, and he could sense that the irritating odor was emanating from it. However, that was as far as his sense of smell was of any help.

“That bastard… Is he trying to seal off my sense of smell and think he’s won, huh?”

Garfiel bared his teeth, fury brewing as he found more of his options shut down.

How long had Otto been devising strategies specifically against him? Up to this point, every single one had perfectly nullified Garfiel.

“—”

Touching the wound on his forehead, Garfiel took a deep, ragged breath to calm himself down.

He centered his thoughts, struggling not to let anger sweep him away. He needed to consider why Otto was throwing himself into this seemingly reckless battle.

Fundamentally, it was bizarre that Otto would challenge Garfiel.

His aim was to stall for time—drawing Garfiel’s attention to himself while leading the evacuees left in the ‘Sanctuary’ to escape through various routes.

As Otto had explained, if his words held any truth, then even if Garfiel pursued him now, there was no way he could stop all the dragon carts.

Momentarily, he had considered using his command authority to send the replicas of Ryuzu after him, but without clarity on the starting points of each dragon cart, it would only result in wasted efforts.

The replicas lacked knowledge or experience and would only carry out rough instructions.

Moreover, they required direction even for something as simple as taking their meals regularly, and once they reached the limits of their stamina in the woods, they would curl up and quit living altogether.

Chasing after them to ensure they didn’t disappear was starting to bore Garfiel.

“In the end, I can only rely on myself. Ha! Same as always.”

His numbers were insufficient, and his sense of smell was sealed off.

Regardless, Garfiel refused to be pessimistic. He had this honed body to rely on. He still had enough strength left to rush through the forest and achieve his goals.

Whatever Otto’s objective was, he was resisting Garfiel this strongly. Garfiel was clearly prepared to unleash his claws and fangs, fully expecting to deal with the aftermath.

At this point, Garfiel no longer merely viewed Otto as prey to devour.

He resolved that Otto was someone he needed to hunt down with all his might and capture without fail.

—Yet, at this moment, Garfiel was already unwittingly caught in the web of Otto’s schemes, completely forgetting his original intentions.

“You’re all behaving pretty adults now, aren’t you? And you were instructed by that guy… What are you trying to pull?”

While pursuing Otto, Garfiel turned to look at the unmoving dragon carts.

They were two dummy dragon carts pretending to carry evacuees. However, the earth dragons pulling them were real, and since Otto and Garfiel’s exchange had started, they had been kneeling down, indifferent to the situation.

“If you don’t move carelessly, you won’t get hurt by me. Wise thinking. Honestly, I see no need to commit needless murder.”

Shaking his head, Garfiel passed beside the earth dragons and again laid his hands on the passenger car of the carts.

There had been a pile of clothes scattered inside to confuse the scent of the villagers. Earlier, he had just confirmed that much, but maybe if he stayed a little longer, he could find something else.

Kicking aside the haphazardly strewn clothes, Garfiel scanned the seats and walls. He was about to leave the passenger car after a short search when—

“—Huh?”

A glance back revealed something taped behind the door to the passenger car.

It was white paper that fluttered in the wind, placed in such a way that it could only be seen from the inside.

With a bad feeling creeping up on him, Garfiel strode over to the door, roughly tore off the flapping paper, and unfolded it in his hands.

And there it was,

‘—With this much palming, you’re putting in some effort.’

Upon reading the scribbled letters, Garfiel’s vision was stained red with rage.

The next moment—a dark mass erupted from the seats in the passenger car, creating an explosion within the cramped space. Garfiel’s furious roar was drowned out by the swarm of insects that buzzed like a storm.

※※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※

—For the young Otto Suwen, the world was a cradle of hell.

“—”

“×××××××××”

“※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※”

“＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊！＊！＊”

An unending stream of incomprehensible words echoed in Otto’s ears twenty-four-seven.

Sitting on the ground with a dazed look, he was constantly bombarded by whispers in his ear, distant shouts, songs, and at times, even death throes, all forcing him to stay connected to the world.

No matter where he went, voices relentlessly pursued the young Otto.

There were endless days where he couldn’t find a moment’s peace. A cacophony of dissonant harmonies reverberated around him. Everything blended into a hellish concerto that never left his side.

“—Why does everyone live in such a loud world as if it’s normal?”

In the midst of a hell where he couldn’t even hear the voices of those nearby, Otto pondered this question.

His parents would lift him up, smiling and throwing words at him. Yet, no matter how filled with affection those words were, they got swallowed up by the countless noises and didn’t reach him.

Noticing their son’s abnormality, his parents took him to a doctor right away.

Without a smile, without anger, and without tears, he had grown up without any expression of emotion, as he only felt one type of stimulation from all external cues.

Consequently, Otto spent his childhood being perceived as an emotionless individual, much to his parents’ concern.

Fortunately—or perhaps sadly—the Suwen family was a merchant household that maintained a middle-class standard of living, thus they had ample savings to send their son to a doctor.

However, no matter which doctor looked at Otto, they found no abnormality. Of course, it was to be expected. His symptoms could essentially be summarized as being deaf due to hearing too much.

He had an older brother who was two years his senior and a younger brother who was two years his junior. Unlike Otto, his siblings grew up as healthy individuals, thriving under their parents’ love. As the parents’ attention gradually shifted away from Otto, the affection meant for three children was divided between the two, distancing Otto from their warmth.

Otto neither resented nor envied his siblings or parents. At that time, he harbored no feelings of hatred or jealousy, nor any of the extremes of emotion that usually develop in childhood. Furthermore, his siblings patiently engaged with Otto, who barely communicated. He understood that it was natural for his parents to become weary.

If he found himself in either of his siblings’ positions, he wasn’t sure if he could treat that confusing family with such kindness. Instead, he felt a sense of gratitude.

Even if he couldn’t express himself through voice, he could communicate through writing.

The one who discovered this was his brother, who endeavored to read books to him.

Naturally, mastering the written word was no easy feat.

He couldn’t link sounds needed to recognize the words. Understanding the meaning of a string of words took Otto ten times longer than it did for ordinary children.

That said, it wasn’t a burden for him. Sadly, he lacked the sensibility to feel it was tough, and an infant who couldn’t lead a normal life had nothing to do day after day.

‘—Thank you, always.’

He still remembers vividly the moment he first showed his parents those handwritten words, and they hugged him, shedding tears.

Even though he couldn’t fully comprehend the feeling of gratitude, he felt that he deserved to be treated in that manner. Despite his youth, he made the judgment and wrote those words out of obligation. They were evaluated, stirring waves within Otto’s heart.

—The time he cried out loud, perhaps for the first time since being born, could be considered his second birth.

“Fagatogaaitajijijiji”

“AGATETAAGTFATTTAADAERT!”

“Mimiimomeemee”

Even though he couldn’t grasp the meaning of the hellish choir, shortly after that second birth, he began to glimpse its patterns.

Bit by bit, the noise that had relentlessly pounded on his eardrums was being filtered out, chosen by Otto’s will.

By the time he turned eight, he had completely gained the ability to cut off surrounding sounds at will.

Having become almost a perfectly normal individual, Otto began soaking up all knowledge like parched sand receiving water.

Originally, Otto had to give up most of the developmental milestones that a child typically achieves by age eight. Although he took his time learning letters and studied diligently, his comprehension lagged behind that of peers. But he made up for that deficit overnight through sheer concentration.

The dormant talents inside the boy known as Otto Suwen began to blossom.

He possessed thinking skills and understanding that were on par with his older and younger siblings—rather, surpassing them. Otto displayed extraordinary learning ability, rapidly emerging among children his age—

—And consequently, he failed spectacularly in human relations, ending up isolated.

“Why does everyone live in such a difficult world as if it’s perfectly normal?”

With his cheek red and swollen from being slapped by a girl he had feelings for, he mumbled while hugging his knees.

As he turned ten, Otto had been diligently studying to not shame himself as a merchant’s son. In this era, environments offering solid education from a young age were rare. He undeniably enjoyed a privileged upbringing, spending idyllic days with fellow children.

Yet the problem lay in the fact that Otto’s emotional expressions and mental maturity lagged behind those of his peers by about seven years.

Having never had the chance to make the usual mistakes that many children experience, once those chances arose, he was bound to stumble through them as if they were no big deal. However, because most of those blunders were typical of children, they were excused. Since Otto was far beyond that period, the results of his mistakes could only be described as disastrous.

To add to his misfortune, Otto Suwen was a boy utterly beset by bad luck.

According to his parents, his misfortunes began with nearly drowning in his birth bath just after coming into this world. After that, he stumbled down stairs unintentionally, was hit by bird droppings, nearly drowned in a vase, and was frequently afflicted by a string of unfortunate events.

He was unaware of it all as he hadn’t yet developed a sense of experiencing such misfortune.

Looking back once that sense had developed, Otto was horrified by his past.

What could possibly lead a person to have such a stricken life filled with incidents of abysmal luck?

“Oookii, toooot-ta, ima, tooo-tta, mou, i-t-ta.”

“Hikaru, hikatta, hikari ga, too-i, hikari, hikari, hikatte.”

“Oi, mamono ga kuru ze. Oi, mamono ga kuru ze.”

Around this time, Otto started to consciously filter out the noise, but there was a transformation happening within that noise.

Those unintelligible harmonies, which had previously held no meaning, began to seem as though they carried significance.

Though he could understand most of it, the vast majority still made no sense. However, after making earnest efforts to comprehend that incomprehensibility, Otto uncovered the truth about the hell he had endured as a child.

Apparently, he possessed the ability to communicate with creatures other than humans.

It wasn’t until eleven years later, when Otto Suwen finally realized this ability would be termed “the Blessing of Word Spirits.”

From that point on, to understand the limits of the blessing bestowed upon him, Otto frequently ventured into various places around town, testing the limits of that blessing. Through trial and error, he discovered that the more intelligent the organism, the more clearly its intention could be conveyed.

He demonstrated this to his siblings by conversing with the earth dragon they kept as a pet at home, revealing that he had possessed the blessing since childhood.

“Yeah, is that so? Um… Otto. That ability is, yeah, really amazing. I think it’s really amazing, so… well, you shouldn’t use it in front of people, okay?”

Having a blessing was a sign of approval from the world, but it didn’t mean that those possessing such abilities were always welcomed. While blessings that benefited everyone were one thing, Otto’s ability was one that only worked for him. If he wanted to misuse it, even a child could come up with various ways to do so.

His brother’s concern for him was certainly valid.

In agreement with his brother, Otto firmly resolved to keep the existence of his “Blessing of Word Spirits” a secret from everyone around him.

This power could pose a danger not only to him but also to those around him.

The young Otto’s heart was ignited by a sense of responsibility to protect his precious family.

Three days after making that promise with his brother, Otto’s capability became known, receiving a harsh response from peers his age.

While secretly talking with the earth dragon, his younger brother caught him and, with no choice left, Otto revealed to him the details of his blessing. He also shared his brother’s concerns, informing his younger brother just how dangerous his powers could be.

The following day, filled with excitement to boast about Otto’s ability, Otto’s younger brother led crowds of children to him. There, Otto was seen speaking with the insects, plunging him back into the hell he’d known for years.

The flaw of the “Blessing of Word Spirits” was that communication still relied on utilizing the words of the other party. In simple terms, when Otto spoke with the earth dragon, he communicated like an earth dragon, and when he talked to insects, he uttered similar insect-like sounds.

It took mere moments for the nickname “the Bug Guy” to spread like wildfire.

From that day onward, Otto sealed away the “Blessing of Word Spirits,” vowing never to use it again. Over the course of several years, he successfully burned away the ill-famed reputation that had clung to him.

Otto was fourteen by that time.

At fourteen, excuses of emotional growth no longer held any weight. Physically, he was steadily climbing the ladder to adulthood, and by the time his limbs had fully grown, Otto had developed a sufficiently refined appearance to classify him as decent-looking.

He had gray hair, a soft face that suggested an air of fragility, gentle eyes, and an earnest disposition. Endowed with unexpectedly maternal charm, Otto, just like any other typical adolescent boy, developed an interest in romantic affairs—

—Only to make the mistake of antagonizing the daughter of the town’s most powerful figure, resulting in his exile.

It was a cold season, just before Otto turned fifteen.

To summarize the incident, he became embroiled in a love-hate drama.

On the night of the birthday party for the daughter of the town’s most powerful man, her enraged boyfriend screamed and burst in after discovering her with another man. The one named Otto was merely asking the time when he was brought up as the scapegoat.

Despite Otto’s honest reply, the man, blushing in rage, shouted, “Bugs Guy!” and wouldn’t listen.

All the past grievances he thought he had buried resurfaced, and even Otto found it challenging to maintain his composure.

In light of this, he broke his own seal and took desperate actions to clear his name, tuning in to the voices of all the creatures around the town. Eventually, he uncovered that the girl in question had actually been mingling with seven other men that fateful night and cheerfully revealed, “Looks like you’re the eighth one!”

After being punched by the man and having the girl’s relations disclosed, Otto found himself targeted by the assassin hired by the daughter and fled his hometown at a breakneck pace, seeking refuge with a merchant association known to his father.

From there he honed his skills and set off as a traveling merchant shortly after turning sixteen—Otto Suwen, standing independently as a man.

Otto’s journey as a merchant was nothing short of a series of travails.

The nature of his misfortunes would not abandon him even as the years passed. Whenever he transported fragile goods, he’d face inclement weather; in an attempt to cut down on travel time, he’d be ambushed by bandits; and on nights he camped with other merchants, he alone would find himself the victim of insect bites, draining him of his blood.

Despite being tormented by various misfortunes, the reason Otto did not meet his ruin was, tragically, his commendable business acumen which balanced out his poor luck.

He neither made twisted fortunes nor suffered great losses. He deftly maneuvered through his venture, maintain a miraculous balance that amounted to more or less breaking even for the four years until he turned twenty.

What kept him from breaking and returning home was the presence of his longtime companion, Fulfu, the earth dragon he had taken with him on the day of his banishment.

Truth be told, Otto felt complex emotions since Fulfu was the reason his younger siblings had found out about his “Blessing of Word Spirits,” but for Otto, Fulfu represented a reliable connection—a family of sorts.

Due to the lack of other merchants willing to partner with him, Otto would frequently ease sleepless nights by conversing with Fulfu.

He would say, “Let’s get some sleep already,” as Fulfu shyly sidestepped his attempts at conversation.

In the dead of night, merchants would watch him breach the barrier of the firelight, mimicking the sounds of an earth dragon while addressing Fulfu, taking it as an odd sight.

Such uneventful, child-like gambling days were actually rather desperate for Otto, and a turning point finally came.

—He spectacularly botched getting a business opportunity.

At that moment, Otto was dealing with oil. He had been informed by a red-faced man with an eyepatch that oil would fetch a high price in the northern country of Gusteco as cold seasons approached. Excited, Otto exchanged his metal goods for oil, invigorated at the prospect of heading to Gusteco—only to face the unexpected situation of a diplomatic rift, losing all opportunities to sell his stock.

Further shocking was discovering that the metal goods he had offloaded for pennies were being traded for exorbitant prices in the royal capital.

Realizing he had been thoroughly played, Otto understood he was on the brink of ruin in his merchant life.

He had to discover a reverse opportunity swiftly to resurrect his situation, lest he was forced to part with Fulfu or—worse yet—return home, begging for aid.

That was a territory he could never afford to step into.

It had been over five years since he last saw his family, yet Otto’s affection for them never waned even a bit. He was still living thanks to the family that didn’t abandon him during his troubled childhood.

Through those troublesome ten years, Otto had burdened his family with more than enough troubles for a lifetime. From now on, he was determined to repay those years with the rest of his days.

Debts should be repaid properly and accurately. Otto Suwen was born a merchant after all.

—When a merchant he associated with came to him with a potentially profitable deal, Otto eagerly took the bait.

Apparently, what was needed wasn’t products but the feet of an earth dragon. They wanted to transport multiple people by having them ride in the cargo of a dragon cart.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Otto hooked onto the idea, fully activating Fulfu and his “Blessing of Word Spirits,” vowing to be the first to arrive at their destination.

Charging through rough terrain and uncharted paths, dismissing Fulfu’s pleas of “Let’s not do this, young master,” Otto dashed straight ahead, outpacing everyone.

And then,

“Oh dear, oh dear… Where are you hurry off to… Death!”

Things had taken a terrible turn.

Otto realized he had been snared and bound by those who had completely lost their wits, reaching the highest point of bad luck.

Separated from Fulfu and stripped of his clothes, Otto was thrown into a cold cave, merely awaiting the moment his life would be extinguished for amusement.

At that moment, it’s hard to say just how overwhelmingly despair had engulfed Otto’s heart. No one could comprehend it.

Because at that time, Otto was exhausting every bit of strength he possessed to escape, fully unleashing his “Blessing of Word Spirits,” trying to escape the clutches of the group. When that rebellious spirit was broken by tremendous silence—a hell he had once known was surely meant to resurface when he fully released it.

But that nostalgic, accursed chaos was nowhere to be heard.

All the bugs, small creatures, and beings that would usually be present in the forest or cave had vanished in an instant—facing the devil that Otto prepared to confront, he was presented with a hell far beyond comprehension.

His eyes lost their light, and with each passing moment, strength bled from his limbs. It was exceedingly evident that everything was spiraling downwards. Nothing he did was successful, and ultimately he would meet his end in that cold cave.

Despair so profound that even tears would not fall. In empty reality, losing track of the passage of time, it struck him suddenly and swiftly scooped up Otto Suwen’s fate.

“What the hell! Those Witch Cult morons are absolutely reckless! No way they’d get away with this!”

A loud voice echoed through the cave, shaking Otto back to reality.

He lifted his head and, with a raspy voice, called for help. The one who noticed him and came forward was a large beastman with a dog-like face. He spoke in Kararagi dialect and freed the imprisoned Otto.

“Lucky you, bro! Had we not shown up, you would surely have been killed by those guys! If we had been any later, it would have been the same story for you! Right on time! Right on time! Praise goes to us, and of course to our captain!”

“C-captain…?”

Rotating his limbs after being unbound, Otto tilted his head in confusion at the beastman’s words.

The beastman widened his eyes at Otto’s incredulity, then slapped Otto’s back with a large palm, eliciting a shriek from him.

“Captain is captain! The brat is a brat! Together, he’s the captain brat! That’s the genius who instructed us and sent us all the way here! I didn’t think someone so sharp could exist, right? Hahaha!”

“Huh… I-I see. Thank you so much. By the way, that person…”

He thought he had to express his gratitude, and just as he glanced up, Otto noticed the beastman’s surprised face, furrowing his brow as he looked at him.

Not understanding the meaning behind his reaction, the beastman unexpectedly tossed Otto a white cloth from his pocket.

“Hey, if you’re gonna cry, do it somewhere hidden. It’s pathetic to weep in front of people.”

“W-why… Cry?”

“You’ve been pouring tears like crazy! If this isn’t crying, then what is? Sweat?! Heart sweat? You know, only a bunch of Kararagi folk would say something that absurd!”

As the beastman turned his back on Otto, seemingly making an excuse to leave, Otto held the cloth up to his face with a faint sense of disbelief, only to feel it soaking up a copious amount of tears.

Then, once he recognized the tears were flowing, they gushed forth uncontrollably.

“Ah, damn it… What the hell… is this…?”

Otto pressed the cloth against his face, grinding his teeth as tears spilled over.

He had no idea what was causing the flood of tears, and his mind was engulfed in a mess of curses.

—Was it tears born from being released from the despair that felt as unquenchable as a drought?

“D-don’t die… I’m so glad…!”

He still hadn’t achieved anything.

He hadn’t repaid even a single debt of gratitude.

Had he died there, Otto would have been left without a purpose or meaning.

Right then, surviving allowed Otto the realization of this truth.

—Otto’s life reaffirmed itself with each tear shed.

The first cry upon entering this world.

The second, upon discovering family love and recognizing the depths of his own heart.

Finally, on this day, escaping a death he had steeled himself to face, he understood the purpose and meaning of living.

—Otto Suwen was born once more on this day.

※※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※

“—Truly, I’m not even supposed to be stalling for time like this.”

Kicking off the ground while engaging in labor ill-suited for him, Otto wore a wry smile.

The humbling experience of having cried and flailed about was something he wanted to forget, yet every memory of tears was precious, making it impossible to erase them from his mind.

The beastman named Ricardo, who had saved Otto, kept his secret about Otto crying without telling a soul. That debt would inevitably need to be repaid.

And then,

“Debts must be repaid without fail. —After all, I am a merchant.”

—The captain who saved his life, the captain brat.

Otto Suwen also had debts to repay to Natsuki Subaru.

He would repay the favor of having his life saved with everything he had.

That was the appropriate mindset for a merchant.

Above all—

“—It’s all for a friend, you know!!”

Both as a merchant and as a human, Otto finds himself committing to endure this moment.

Thus, Otto Suwen approached a battle of slim chances.

He would stake everything he could add on top of his existence to ensure Natsuki Subaru’s victory.

That was Otto’s merchant spirit, the proof of friendship.

—In the distance, a roar of beasts echoed from the direction of the dragon carts he had left behind.

Feeling the war about to begin, Otto unleashed his blessing—entrusting himself to the familiar hell while continuing to push himself to his limits and running forward.

“`

 

---