The door to Sollivan’s quiet and silent room suddenly opened, and a hunched-over young man entered, panting heavily. Every step he took was unsteady, as if he were severely drunk.

  After walking through the small room, he finally reached his soft, familiar bed and collapsed face-first onto it. When he heard the door lock, he cursed into the mattress, his voice muffled.

  "Those bastards almost killed me." With great effort, he turned over to face the ceiling and spread his arms out to relax, trying to ease the pain in his arm muscles. "Huff," he exhaled with difficulty and lifted his head slightly to look at his stretched-out body. "I’ve never sweated like this in my entire life. Even after showering, I still feel the sticky discomfort of my skin."

  Finally, he stopped complaining and closed his eyes quietly, relaxing his body. His breathing steadied, and it seemed as though he had fallen asleep. But after a few minutes of rest, he opened his tired eyes and stared at the ceiling for a long time before struggling to get up from the bed.

  Exhausted, he commanded, "Come out."

  As usual, Noctis emerged from his shadow and stood before him. The crimson eyes stared at him, and with concern, Sollivan raised his hand and scratched his chin.

  "I’m in a weak position, and you’re the only thing—or rather, the only person—I can rely on." When he remembered the incident that had happened that morning, he felt anxious and threatened. He could no longer maintain his composure when he realized he was branded with a mark resembling a slave seal.

  "I wouldn’t have realized it if it weren’t for my reckless actions. But at least the leader didn’t overdo it and left the controlling authority to only a few people. It seems that Blear, despite his status, doesn’t have any authority over me."

  He thought deeply and tried to analyze the nature of the seal placed on his body, but he stopped after a few seconds.

  His knowledge was too limited, and even if he knew the type of seal, he likely wouldn’t be able to remove it anytime soon. After organizing his thoughts, he refocused on his priorities. He lifted his head and looked at Noctis, and after hesitating for a moment, he ordered sternly, "Turn your hand into a sword."

  Following his command, the shadow’s hand twisted strangely and began to contort in a mysterious way, eventually transforming into a slightly short sword.

  Sollivan stood up and raised Noctis’s hand. He felt a strange, cold texture, and without paying much attention to it, he began to check the sharpness of the black sword. But he frowned because the sword wasn’t sharp.

  He couldn’t order it to attack objects in the room for fear of making noise that would attract the leader’s and the warriors’ attention. "I need to find an opportunity to test your strength properly." He paused for a moment before ordering again.

  "Turn your hand into a needle and make its tip very sharp."

  Noctis’s hand twisted again, transforming into a large needle with a sharp, pointed tip.

  Sollivan looked at it before grabbing it and directing it toward his arm. He tightened his grip and tensed his muscles as much as he could despite his exhaustion, and with clenched teeth, he ordered.

  "Obey me, but don’t stab with full force from the start. Gradually increase the strength until you can pierce my skin."

  The shadow pushed its hand with reduced force, but Sollivan only felt a slight prick, making his eyebrows arch in disappointment again. "Increase the strength."

  The shadow increased the force of its push, but the needle’s tip deformed and compressed slightly before reforming into the shape of the needle.

  Pierce!

  Drip!

  After two attempts, the needle’s tip pierced Sollivan’s arm, causing a small amount of his blood to flow and drip onto the ground. "Alright, retreat."

  As soon as the shadow retreated, Sollivan wiped the blood from his wound and wrapped his arm with a soft cloth. He raised his hand and looked at the blood sticking to his fingers, exhaling in disappointment.

  "Your offensive strength is too weak, or rather, it won’t be effective against those stone-bodied warriors. We need to find a pattern that makes you suitable for combat. If we take advantage of your excellent stealth ability, we can perform deadly attacks on very vital points." He spoke with dissatisfaction while his eyes remained fixed on his blood with curiosity. Since he learned about the transformation of his blood, he had been paying more attention to his physical condition.

  Suddenly, his eyebrows arched strangely, and he frowned. He raised his hand and brought it closer to his face, as if wanting to see every detail of his blood.

  He froze in his position for a short moment before tilting his head back with wide eyes. He gasped quickly and wanted to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat. After a long moment of standing in shock and disbelief.

  "The color of my blood has faded."

  His words carried an unbelieving tone, but he was certain of what he was saying. He had seen the color of his blood more than once and remembered it in detail. Now, although it hadn’t changed much, its color had become less dark.

  "But this is impossible. I’ve read that the color of blood doesn’t change. How? Even Primordial Blood is said not to be this unique." He stepped back with faltering steps and sat on his bed. But his gaze didn’t leave his hand. "Something’s wrong."

  He suddenly lifted his head and scanned every corner of the room with wary eyes. Even after finding the place empty, he felt uneasy and wished with all his heart that what he was seeing was some kind of illusion.

  Time passed slowly, and even the extreme exhaustion he felt disappeared. His eyes remained open, and even after placing his head on the pillow, peace and sleep refused to come to him. He tossed and turned in his bed anxiously, and after a long time of lying down, he got up and exhaled angrily.

  But suddenly, he felt a wave of thoughts entering his mind. He lifted his head, filled with chaotic thoughts, and looked at Noctis, who was still staring at his blood-stained hand. He looked at it and remembered that, in his shock, he had forgotten to wipe his blood.

  "Do you want the blood? I forgot that our contract guarantees you periodic access to my blood." He felt an intense eagerness emanating from Noctis, and after a short moment of thought, he pointed to his blood-stained hand. "Take it."

  As soon as he issued the command, he found Noctis standing before him, transformed into something resembling a black cloud that dispersed and surrounded him from all directions.

  A mysterious coldness spread through every part of his body, and then he felt a strange pain in the wound on his arm. The blood began to leave his body and spread through the black mist, which glowed with a dark blue hue and floated happily.

  Sollivan felt the shadow’s intense happiness emanating from all around him, so he didn’t interrupt and remained seated. After a short while, he felt extreme exhaustion and weakness in his legs, and then he ordered sternly.

  "Enough."

  Despite its reluctance, the dark cloud moved and took on Noctis’s usual form. Its crimson eyes continued to look at Sollivan greedily, but its greedy feelings lasted only moments before disappearing, returning to its usual cold state.

  "Huff, you’re greedy." Although Sollivan spoke mockingly, the extreme exhaustion and fatigue were evident on him.

  He looked at his body and was slightly surprised to see all traces of blood gone from his body, and even his wound, which had bothered him, had forcefully healed and no longer emitted any bloody smell. He looked into the shadow’s eyes and said with some gratitude.

  "You’ve hidden all the evidence."

  At that moment, Sollivan felt a little relieved. He had been worried that someone might sense the strangeness of his blood or catch its scent. He didn’t know how observant these tribesmen were, but he preferred caution over risk.

  He stretched out on his bed with hazy eyes. Despite his anxiety and chaotic thoughts, his extreme exhaustion overwhelmed him, making him fall asleep quickly.

  …

  The next morning, he opened his eyes, which showed signs of fatigue due to their slight blueness. He looked at the familiar ceiling, and then all the memories of the previous day came to his mind, making him exhale sharply. "I’m tired, and I won’t be able to train in this condition."

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Knock!

  Tap!

  As if someone had heard his words, a faint knock came from the door.

  He moved his heavy body and stood up. He was so tired that he didn’t even bother to yawn and stretch. Nevertheless, he maintained a sharp gaze. He scanned his surroundings and looked at his clean clothes, and even bent down to look at the floor where drops of his blood had fallen, but he found nothing.

  Even the cloth he had wrapped around his arm earlier was clean. At that moment, he felt some relief, but he didn’t immediately go to open the door. Instead, he stood in place and uttered words he himself could hardly believe.

  "I can return to my world?"

  'At first, I thought the idea lingering in my mind was something related to my blood or the bond between me and Noctis, but I was wrong. Apparently, that idea is the key to returning, and now I can reach it.' He thought silently for a few moments before muttering.

  "But will I still be able to walk when I return? Maybe I’ll lose everything, and even the shadow won’t come with me."

  A faint worry arose in his heart, and it didn’t take long for it to turn into a deep fear of returning. He thought deeply about his predicament and reviewed all his options. At first, when he came to this world, he was angry and deeply afraid. At the same time, he felt a deep guilt for his inability to stay in his family’s world and achieve his revenge.

  But now, he no longer wanted to return, or rather, he had become afraid of losing everything he had gained. Yes, his life was complicated in this world, and he had been branded with a slave seal. But in return, he had regained his ability to walk, possessed unique Primordial Blood, not to mention the shadow that accompanied him as a loyal servant and faithful companion.

  Knock!

  Clang!

  "Tsk." The knocking stopped, followed by the sound of the door opening.

  He turned his head and looked at the familiar warrior with sharp eyes. With a hunched and submissive posture, he walked with her to the familiar room. He opened the door and entered to be greeted by the table full of food. But this time, only Beatrice and her accompanying warrior, Lora, were in the room, along with the maid assigned to serve them.

  He looked around warily and asked, "Where’s Fredrick?"

  Beatrice lifted her head and looked at him with a bit of coldness. "His name is Warrior Fredrick."

  'Yes, yes, we get it, respect and all that nonsense.' Due to his foul mood, Sollivan could barely keep his mouth shut.

  Beatrice noticed his strange look but didn’t care and continued speaking.

  "He told us about your weakness. So, he decided to give you a day off so your body can recover. As for today, you’ll accompany me on my daily tasks so you can learn about the tribe’s life and customs."

  Sollivan was slightly surprised and replied, "I understand."

  He sat in his chair and began eating his food. But his mind was preoccupied with other matters, as he thought deeply about his decision.

  Beatrice saw his blank stares and shook her head in pity for her fate. 'I can’t believe my father hasn’t changed his decision even after I begged him. Can’t he see how weak and foolish this person is? Primordial Blood is more of a curse on our tribe than a blessing.'

  "Ahem, mind your manners while eating." Although she tried to ignore it, she finally spoke about what bothered her.

  Sollivan regained his composure and sat up straight, beginning to eat his food politely. Most of his actions were involuntary due to the seal, but he decided to stop his chaotic thoughts and focus on what was in front of him.

  After finishing his breakfast, he went to wash up. As for hygiene, he preferred to clean himself before eating, but he was refused by the warrior assigned to watch him.

  After finishing his personal matters, he silently accompanied Beatrice and her entourage out of the leader’s palace. His steps were slightly slow, and he maintained a safe distance between himself and Beatrice. But at the same time, he didn’t stray too far from her so as not to appear suspicious.

  While he was thoughtfully considering a way to deal with the princess in a good manner, he heard her say, "Actually, I’m certain you know everything despite your lies and feigned ignorance.

  I don’t know what you’re planning, but according to my father’s orders, I’ll play along with your lie. But keep this in mind: if you act in any way that harms my tribe or attracts trouble, I’ll kill you." Although he couldn’t see her expression, he felt a real sense of danger emanating from her.

  His gaze froze for a moment on her back, and he replied nonchalantly.

  "I understand your point. No need to worry, I’m really a harmless person." His tone carried a hint of mockery.

  "Hmm." Beatrice turned and stared at him with sharp eyes, making his body flinch for a moment and stop in place. In a calm voice devoid of hostility—or rather, any clear emotions—she ordered him. "Come closer and walk beside me. This is an educational tour, and you staying behind is really annoying."

  Sollivan nodded and strictly followed her orders, quickening his steps and walking beside her, maintaining half a meter as a safe distance. Although their steps were equal, he didn’t look at her, or more precisely, he avoided looking in her direction, keeping his attention carefully on his left side.

  He looked at the strange tents in the alleys around him and analyzed their shape and the materials they were made of.

  When he finished, he looked at the passersby walking beside them, examining their clothes and physical build, trying to estimate their average age. 'Most of the passersby are elderly or children. It seems the youth and middle-aged are too busy to wander around aimlessly.'

  When he saw the passersby more clearly, he noticed that their looks at him seemed ambiguous and very strange. 'There’s no hostility, and at the same time, there are no questions about my identity. Did the leader come up with some explanation for my presence and spread it to the public?'

  'I would’ve done the same if I were in his place. The lack of answers would produce unwanted thoughts.'

  While he was thinking silently, he caught sight of a very strange building’s roof. Although it was far from him and located in a different alley, its large size and strange wooden dome made it stand out among the tents.

  And because of his observation, he felt a bit of curiosity. He turned to look at Beatrice and asked her politely while pointing at the building, "What’s that building? It seems different from the rest."

  Beatrice followed his finger to land her gaze on the domed roof. At that moment, she showed a strange expression.

  "That’s the House of Secrets, where the Wise Woman and the Blood Servants live." She showed a mysterious smile and mocked. "Don’t tell me you don’t know anything about the Wise Woman and the House of Secrets. That would be an obvious lie."

  The questions stuck in Sollivan’s throat. He shook his head and said.

  "I was just asking." He smiled with difficulty and tried to maintain his normal demeanor.

  Both of them continued walking in silence for several minutes, passing through several alleys until they reached the edge of the tribe.

  Only one alley separated them from the surrounding plains. Both of them stood in front of a very large tent that looked like a group of small tents with domed roofs merged into a very large tent in the center. From afar, Sollivan found it similar to circus tents where performances were held in his world, but upon closer inspection, it was very different.

  "Let’s go in." Beatrice gestured for him to follow her. After passing through the large tent’s entrance, he found himself in a very large hall filled with women and strange tools, along with large piles of hides.

  Some of the hides were fresh and emitted a strong, unpleasant smell, while the old hides that had been painted and treated were gathered in separate piles.

  Achoo!

  Suddenly, Sollivan jerked his head back and sneezed loudly due to the strong smell he had inhaled.

  Achoo!

  He sneezed three times before stopping. He rubbed his nose and lifted his head, which had lowered from the force of the sneezes, and looked around to find many women looking at him mockingly. Even Beatrice herself smiled with pity before saying.

  "You’re unreasonably weak. That’s why humans are a race not worth paying attention to."

  He wiped his nose and mocked internally. 'I don’t think you’d be able to say that if you saw the Arcane Lords from my world.'

  Beatrice didn’t continue to bother him and began explaining.

  "As you can see, this is the tribe’s tailoring workshop. In this large, divided tent, most of the skilled women specializing in sewing and hides gather to make clothes and furnishings, not to mention construction hides."

  Sollivan looked around and inspected every corner of the large hall suspiciously, but he found it different from Beatrice’s description. The women in the hall were only isolating and cutting the hides.

  Beatrice noticed this and answered his unasked questions. "This is the first hall. The place consists of four large tents in total, connected to each other, along with a large central area dedicated to dyeing hides."

  "Follow me."

  Both of them walked through the place filled with hides and large-bodied women, eventually reaching a large open door leading to a second large hall, similar to the first, also filled with women.

  Most of the women sat on the ground, holding large sewing tools and sewing and shaping the hides according to their needs.

  Sollivan noticed their unrefined manual work with curiosity. The hides they were dealing with weren’t ordinary; they were thick and hard as rock.

  Seeing how simply they handled it made him understand the strength of their hands holding the needles. At that moment, he realized how truly weak he was and sighed in dissatisfaction.

  'They’re all monsters.'

  But despite that, he didn’t think much about it and continued to observe what they were working on.

  'The warriors’ clothes are sewn by elderly women, while the ordinary clothes made of wool lined with ordinary hides are sewn by young girls. The division is clear, and I don’t know if it’s due to experience or strength.' Most of the commoners’ clothes consisted of a single piece, usually a simple dress or robe covering most of the body.

  He had seen this clearly while wandering around the tribe and realized it was due to the plains’ moderate climate, so they didn’t change their clothes much.

  After passing through the sewing hall, they reached the hide dyeing area, filled with colored basins. After a brief explanation, they moved directly to the next hall, then the one after that, quickly ending their tour. After Sollivan finally exited the cluster of tents, he took a breath of fresh air to expel the bad smell of hides and asked Beatrice curiously.

  "Why are all those clothes and hides stored? The quantity there is more than the tribe needs. The last tent was a storage area filled to the brim." This made Sollivan feel puzzled.

  Beatrice walked calmly westward and answered. "The surplus products are exchanged for other goods with subordinate tribes or allied tribes." Her answer was simple, but at the same time, it made Sollivan realize some things.

  'There’s a system of subordination among the tribes.' Although the words he picked up were few, they fueled his curiosity and desire for knowledge. However, he didn’t ask due to the lack of tact.

  He continued walking with Beatrice and noticed that they were getting closer to the huge wall. After some time, they reached a large empty space, or rather, a very large pen filled with hundreds of the strange animals he had seen before.

  Around the large pen surrounded by a simple fence, several young men holding thin sticks and wearing leather hats to protect their heads from the sun were present. Immediately, Sollivan recognized them as herders.

  He quickly scanned his surroundings and looked at the high wall nearby. At that moment, he noticed several very small gates designated for the animals to exit. But what caught his attention was several large rocks the size of the gates placed beside them. Politely, he asked. "Do you use those stones to lock the gates in case of an external invasion?"

  Beatrice’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, and she answered.

  "Yes, although the gates are made of reinforced metal and have three layers, they’re not enough for defense." After finishing her explanation, she mocked. "You’re a bit clever. It seems you’re not entirely useless."

  Sollivan didn’t pay attention to her mockery and continued to inspect his surroundings carefully. At that moment, he heard Beatrice say to one of the herders. "Bring out the livestock."

  Following her orders, all the herders began directing the herds of livestock outside. Dust flew due to the footsteps of thousands of hooves, and after the assigned warriors opened the multiple gates, the livestock quickly exited into the plains filled with nourishing plants.

  "Let’s go outside." Beatrice gestured to the warriors around her and walked slowly outside while explaining. "As you’ve seen, the tribe’s main food source is meat. You might not know this, but the land in the vast plains isn’t suitable for farming, and only blue grass and some mutated trees grow here, with other plants rarely found."

  Sollivan was surprised by this and stopped observing the livestock, directing all his focus to her and asking. "Really? What’s the reason?"

  Beatrice answered indifferently. "No one knows. Although the ancestors brought various types of seeds and tried to reclaim the land, they failed. Even after trying every possible method, they got no results." Beatrice paused for a moment before saying.

  "There are some arable lands, but they’re very few and controlled by some powerful tribes."

  When they reached one of the small gates, Beatrice fell silent, giving him a chance to think and stare at the vast plain before him, scrutinizing it carefully. "The eternal blueness." Perhaps this momentary thought expressed his feeling upon seeing the endless plain filled with similar blue plants.

  Inhale!

  After taking a long breath, he refocused on Beatrice and asked while they walked slowly, "Even if the livestock you raise are numerous, it doesn’t seem enough to feed the entire tribe."

  "These aren’t all the livestock we have. We raise buffaloes in pens on the other side, and some residents have their own animals. Still, we have to conduct large hunting expeditions every month to ease the pressure on local production."

  "I underst..." Sollivan stopped mid-sentence due to a strange feeling he suddenly felt. He turned his head warily and looked around. 'This ominous sense of danger feels familiar.' He thought silently, and after recalling his memories a bit, he remembered the source of the familiarity. 'It’s the same feeling I had when facing that beast.'

  "What’s wrong?" Beatrice noticed the sudden change in him, making her stand firmly and look at him warily. The warriors around them did the same.

  "Nothing, it’s just..." Sollivan wanted to calm them, but his sense of danger rose to a crazy level. Before he realized what was happening, he felt a strong rush and impact on his back. But he didn’t fall to the ground because of it; instead, he was lifted high into the air.

  In shock, he saw Beatrice below him on the ground before she quickly disappeared from his sight.

  The strong coldness brushed his face and made his hair fly. By the time he realized he was flying in the sky, he had already traveled a great distance. He turned his head and looked at the huge claws gripping his shoulders tightly. His face turned pale, and he felt extreme terror. His eyes widened, and he quickly lifted his head to look at the huge eagle holding him.

  …

  [On the ground]

  Beatrice looked at the huge eagle that quickly flew away from them with eyes filled with shock, mockery, and deep fear.

  Before she could sort out the chaos inside her, she saw a humanoid shadow emerge from the ground and run at a crazy speed, leaving a misty trail in the direction the eagle had flown.

  Her eyes continued to stare at the empty horizon, and the shock refused to leave her. She hadn’t expected to see something as ridiculous as this, or rather, how could the Primordial Blood that grants its bearer incredible power be wasted so easily?

  Her eyes sparkled with deep mockery, and she muttered with sorrow and at the same time relief. "How can a man carrying the ancestors’ power be kidnapped so easily?"

  Her emotions danced silently, and in the end, she turned slowly and looked at the warrior Mina beside her. In a voice trembling with fear, she ordered, "Go quickly and inform my father." She regained some of her composure and exhaled deeply.

  "The consequences won’t be simple. I’ll be held responsible for this matter."