(Q’s POV)

  I will never use that goddamn SOS function in that goddamn book again.

  I still didn’t know who those people were, but they found us because of it. I didn’t even get a chance to say hello before they snuffed me out. Absolute monsters.

  Well, there was a silver lining. I managed to catch one of the runaway horses. The damn thing was just grazing nearby like its owner hadn’t dropped dead right in front of it. Thanks to that, Vergo and I made it to the lake by morning, where he drank his fill, and later, to the outskirts of Ardengrad, the capital of Talonia.

  His life wasn’t in danger anymore—I’d scrounged up some food from the corpses. Sure, some of it was soaked in blood, but I forced the man to eat it anyway. He was still delirious at that point, so chances were, the historian didn’t even realize.

  "Dangerous little adventure, huh?" Vergo asked.

  "We still haven’t fixed your legs."

  "Listen, Q, I’ve been thinking."

  "About what?"

  "What if, instead of me, it’d been a pretty girl in my place? This whole rescue would’ve looked way more impressive, don’t you think?"

  "Did your fever spike again? What the hell are you babbling about?" I frowned.

  "Ha-ha-ha! Probably never went down, honestly." Vergo touched his burning forehead.

  "I don’t give a damn if it’s some busty beauty or a sometimes-annoying historian—if you’re my friend, I’ll do whatever it takes to save you," I muttered, turning away.

  "Listen to you, getting all poetic. Weren’t you the one who said you couldn’t love? So how’s caring for a friend any different from caring for a lover?"

  "You saying I was wrong? That these concepts can’t just be chalked up to biochemical processes?" I scratched my brow.

  "Uh… yeah. Those ‘processes’ don’t explain friendship or love. So chin up. Today, you learned there’s still hope for you with women!"

  "But I still can’t have kids. Pretty sure childfree isn’t a thing here, and any self-respecting lady would want a baby."

  "Who knows? There are all kinds of women out there."

  "Speaking of, do you have kids?" I asked.

  "Yeah. A daughter," Vergo answered curtly.

  "You’re married?!"

  "Well, yeah… How else?"

  "And you never fucking mentioned it?!"

  "You never asked!"

  "So your family’s just fine with you wandering across the world, blowing their savings on some young boy?!" I joked.

  "Wha—?! Huh?! What kind of nonsense is that? First off, my wife’s always supported me. Second, she doesn’t know about my spending yet. And third, you said you’d pay me back every last Agni!" He paused. "Actually… forget it. You saved my life, and here I am whining about money."

  "Don’t sweat it. I didn’t do it for the money. A debt’s a debt, and I’ll pay it back."

  "I won’t take a single stone from you!"

  "Like you’ve got a choice, you legless old fart!"

  "That was harsh! But… fair."

  To our left, an aqueduct loomed. To our right, another lake stretched where a bunch of old men were fishing—some on the shore, others in boats right in the middle. In the distance, I could make out a mountain range stretching eastward, its peaks dusted with snow.

  A little further, rolling hills sprawled before us, dotted with farmland. That must have been where the capital’s peasants lived. I saw cow pastures, sheep pens, horse corrals, windmills, endless plowed fields, and just as many houses crowding the gray walls of the main city.

  "Didn’t realize Ardengrad is this huge," I muttered, raising an eyebrow.

  "Grand Sizo used to be the capital. But after the incident wiped out several towns and villages, they had to scramble for a replacement. Ardengrad was the only major city left, so the choice was obvious. With the south in ruins and trade shifting toward the more prosperous Odyssey, Shaya’s southern economy tanked. Everyone flocked here, and the city just kept growing," Vergo explained.

  "It’s insane how much damage their so-called ‘worshipped’ Titan caused."

  "Don’t say that around people. ‘Mortals can’t comprehend the actions of Titans.’ You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve heard that traveling through Velisatia."

  And they were right. I was immortal, and I got it—that overgrown parrot had struck preemptively to stop the plague from spreading.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Meanwhile, we reached a settlement on the city’s outskirts. I hopped off the horse and sprinted off to ask around for a doctor. No luck. So I broke the oath I’d sworn just hours earlier—I used the SOS function again.

  If the city was this big, the Echo Association here must have dwarfed the one in Lapreuse. Too bad the book didn’t let you specify what kind of help you needed. The only ones who could fix Vergo’s problem were Crimson Flame mages. But maybe it was too late even for them. Did they even have wheelchairs in this world? What was I supposed to do if Vergo couldn’t walk again? Stick with him till the end, or help as much as I could before ditching him? At the end of the day, I had my own goal—one that outweighed any human bonds.

  "Peek-a-boo." A stranger’s hand waved in front of my face.

  "Huh?" I had to crane my neck—I was sitting on the steps.

  "I’ve called you ten times. You are the one who sent the SOS?" The guy eyed my gauntlet.

  He wore a maroon robe over a black uniform. Round glasses—Harry Potter style—hid his brown eyes. Hair darker than mine, cut like a baker’s son. But the real standout? His hands. The left one had an Echo gauntlet; the right, phoenix bone armor.

  "You’re a Crimson Flame mage?!" I shot up.

  "Sort of." He scratched his head.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Still at the lower stage, so my flames are blue for now. Ha-ha."

  "Can you heal a person?" I gripped his shoulder.

  "More experience with local hog-bellies than humans, but no harm trying. Just so you know, I specialize in offensive magic."

  Hog-bellies—those hairy pigs with smooth, baby-butt bellies.

  "Better than nothing. My friend… shattered femur, messed-up pelvis. Or not the pelvis… hell if I know. But his legs are dead." I was already marching toward Vergo, who I’d left leaning against a building.

  "Oof… Sounds rough." The guy adjusted his glasses. "Name’s Orpheus, by the way. Figured I’d say it now, since I get the feeling you’d never ask."

  Huh. I couldn’t argue with that.

  "Q. Nice to meet you."

  "How’d your friend even get hurt like that?"

  Best not to mention the golem.

  "Bandits ambushed us last night. One shot our horse with an arrow. When it fell, it crushed my buddy." I mixed lies with the truth.

  "How many were there?"

  I could’ve bragged about taking down five, but first of all, there was nothing to be proud of, and secondly, since I’d mentioned an archer, it was best to lowball the numbers so he didn’t ask shit like, "Why don’t you have a scratch on you?!"

  "Three," I said.

  We finally reached Vergo. He was humming, studying kids’ drawings on a fence.

  "He’s awfully calm for a guy who lost his legs," Orpheus noted.

  "Oh, Q! And—" The historian spotted us.

  "Orpheus," I introduced the healer.

  "Finally, a stroke of luck!" Vergo’s eyes locked onto the bespectacled man’s bone gauntlet. He grabbed his head, grinning like an idiot.

  "Don’t celebrate yet, old man." Orpheus rubbed his hands. "Might be too late."

  "How much will the attempt cost?"

  "Right. Forgot to ask about payment," I added.

  "Nothing. My Titan would never forgive me for greed."

  Huh. So not all Phoenix followers were shitheads.

  Next came the healing process. Since Orpheus knew almost everyone in the settlement, he found us shelter first. Even with magic, precision mattered, and operating in the street would’ve been a pain.

  Vergo shook the walls screaming as his bones were reset. When Orpheus moved on to nerve work, I stepped outside—I couldn’t take the noise anymore. Weird power, this. It could heal you or burn you to ash.

  Four hours later, it was over.

  A sweaty Orpheus stepped out, towel on his head. The crows on the roof scattered at the door’s slam.

  "Well?" I asked.

  "Did what I could… Burned through too much mana." He wiped his glasses on his sleeve.

  "Will he walk?"

  "Yeah, yeah. With a limp, though. His femur was fucked."

  Shit. Because of how I’d carried him?

  "Don’t sweat it. A few sessions with better healers’ll fix that. Main thing is, we saved him in time," the mage added.

  "We? Let’s be real—you saved him. I won’t forget that. So if you ever need help, just ask. We’ll be in the city a while."

  "Oh? Holding you to that. Come to the Echo Association tomorrow morning. There’s a job I’ve been meaning to take for days—just kept putting it off. Should have my mana back by then."

  "Got it." I nodded.

  He stood up, toweled off his hair, and turned around to add, "Just... keep in mind old lady Spitz won't let you stay the night." Orphey glanced at the house where Vergo was resting.

  "Yeah, yeah, of course. Thanks again, really."

  The guy didn't respond.

  Entering the historian's room, I saw him still lying there, face twisted in pain.

  "Looks like you're doing better," I said.

  "Yeah, right..." He paused after each word, fighting for breath.

  "At least you're not squealing like a pig anymore," I joked.

  "I'd like to see you in my place!" the man snapped.

  I just raised an eyebrow.

  "Right... you've seen worse," he muttered.

  "You good to move? Dying to get into the city."

  "Yeah. But before we go, there’s something I need to do."

  Bare-handed, Vergo dug a small hole while I sat silently watching.

  "When I first came to Shaya, the first thing I did was buy a loyal companion. My wife, my daughter, and I—we all have chestnut hair, so I thought a bay mare would suit me best. Turned out her mane and horns were black, but the farm didn't have much selection. Given her temper, I named her Betsy, after my grandmother." A faint smile crossed his face. "On the second day, Betsy injured her hoof. Thought I'd wasted my money. Not knowing where to direct my anger, I started cursing at her. And you know what? It was like she understood every word—she bucked me off and bolted. Believe it or not, just minutes later, a pack of two-tailed wolves surrounded me. I was ready to die, but Betsy came back for me. Don't know what made her return, and I didn't need an explanation. The fact that she saved my life was enough. From that day on, I cherished her. She wasn't just a companion... she was my friend." Vergo was clearly holding back tears.

  "You've been through a lot together. I get it," I said.

  "She saved my life four times... and I got her killed."

  "Not your fault."

  "Don’t, Q. I know it’s my fault. I’ll remember that till I die—but that doesn’t mean I won’t move forward." The historian unwrapped a bracelet from his wrist—woven from Betsy's hair. "Couldn’t give her a proper burial, but at least this…" He placed it in the hole and covered it. "Rest easy."

  "Rest easy," I echoed.