Chapter 6: The thief and the Dreamer

The citizen behind Nagi had fallen silent, still bowing in reverence, afraid to speak, to breathe, to even think too loudly.

But Nagi simply stood there, face blank as always, the sleepy owl Pupa still perched lazily on his shoulder.

Then Nagi spoke.

“Do you know where Serania is?”

Gasps broke through the stillness like glass shattering.

The name alone sent shivers down the spines of the people behind him, even Evan's eyes twitched.

His cold gaze narrowed, and without a word, he moved.

A blur, nothing more than a shadow crossing light and then his arm pierced straight through Nagi's chest with terrifying force. His hand erupted from Nagi's back, his sharp claws gleaming red with blood.

Pupa flapped its wings once, started but silent.

The crowd behind them shrieked in horror. Some fell prostate, whispering frantic prayers.

Nagi coughed violently. Blood splattered across Evan's face, dripping from his chin.

But even so…

He didn't scream and didn't flinch.

He just looked down at the man whose arm was buried inside his chest.

“...Are you done?” Nagi said, his voice was calm and cold.

Evan frozen, his pupils shrank slightly.

And then he slowly pulled his arm out, his hand soaked red to the wrist.

The wound in Nagi's chest was already healing before their eyes. Muscle, bone, and skin knitted back together with eerie speed.

The people behind them stared, stunned.

Even Evan who looked cocky, ruthless, unshakable, stepped back, his expression caught between awe and disbelief.

“This power…” he muttered, lips curled in a crooked grin.

He wiped the blood from his cheek with a finger and stared at it. Then he laughed, sharp and toothy.

He stepped closer too Nagi, his golden eyes glittering and inspecting.

"What's your name?" he said.

“Nagi Kawamura.”

Evan tilted his head slightly, memorizing it.

“I am Evan,” he said, standing tall once more. “Heir to the throne of Welch, guardian of this Hollow City.”

His voice echoed down the ancient stone corridor like a ceremonial bell.

“So, tell me, Nagi Kawamura… Why are you searching for our god?”

"I’m not from this world. Whatever god brought me here must be responsible because I can't die." He replied.

Evan blinked, “So, you haven’t met our god yet? Nor you are not from underworld?”

Nagi just stared at Evan, not giving any answer, but he already knows the answer.

His smirk faded, thoughtful now. His sharp teeth glinted slightly as he bit the inside of his cheek. There was something unspoken lingering behind his stare, a puzzle, pieces not quite fitting.

“That doesn't make sense.” he said, slowly.

"So, do you know where your god is?" Nagi asked again.

Evan stared at him for a long moment.

Then...

He grinned.

“I might.”

He turned away, walking with the same lazy confidence as royalty who knew they never needed to run.

Over his shoulder, he called out, "Come, if you want answers. But, you must obey me first.”

As he strode off, his boots echoed against the stone. The crowd, still kneeling, slowly rose one by one, like an army reborn.

They followed their prince, their torches flickering to life.

And Nagi followed, too.

Stone and ash greeted the Welch procession as they emerged from the underground city. Torches flickered in rhythmic lines behind them, lighting the way with ominous anticipation. At the front, Prince Evan walked tall and unbothered, his coat fluttering with each confident step. His golden eyes never blinked, never hesitated.

Behind him was Nagi.

And behind Nagi, the people of Welch.

But they weren't alone.

Across the cracked plain that marked the border between Welch and Reuben, another army had already gathered.

Clad in crimson armor, eyes like burning coals, the soldiers of Reuben stood in formation—unflinching, ready for war.

And at the center of it all, a small girl.

Her short, wavy blonde hair bounced lightly in the wind. Two stubby black wings twitched behind her back, matched by a thin, flicking succubus tail. Her red eyes gleamed with mischief, and her lips curled in a bratty grin. She was like a spoiled child dressed for a massacre.

“EVAN ALERAF!!” she shouted across the divide, her voice high-pitched, sharp like a dagger. "You finally crawled out of your little hole, huh? You missed me that bad?"

Evan stopped in his tracks and looked up, eyes calm but searing.

“Cerys Cronabelle.” he said, voice laced with venomous charm. “Still playing general with dolls and curses?”

Cerys's eyes narrowed. That wasn't the Evan she remembered. No cold smirk, no biting silence. This Evan looked… terrifyingly confident.

She squinted, trying to read him. “Why do you look like you just won a war that hasn't started yet?”

Evan didn't answer. Instead, he turned and gestured to Nagi, pulling him forward by the shoulder.

“I present to you… Kawamura Nagi.”

Nagi stood in place, expression blank as ever, hands at his side.

Cerys blinked.

“…Who?”

Murmurs rippled across Reuben's side.

“That's the guy from before, right?”

“Wasn't he just some random outsider?”

“Is that supposed to scare us?”

Their laughter started low. Some scoffed. Some taunted.

"What's so special about him? Did you run out of soldiers?"

The Welch crowd began to bark back—loud, angry, proud.

“You won't be laughing in a second!”

"Watch and see! He's not like us!"

But Cerys just rolled her eyes and gave a loud yawn.

"Ugh. You're wasting my time." She stretched lazily, her tail flicking behind her like a metronome. "Fine. I'll end your little show. Let's see how special your toy is."

With a snap of her fingers, a shadow ripped through the air, sleek and fast as lightning, shaped like a jagged spear.

Nagi didn't move and Pupa shot into the air.

In one cruel second, the shadow sliced through Nagi's neck.

His head flew away.

Blood splashed in an arc.

Welch's soldiers shouted in horror.

“NAGI!!”

“He didn't even move!”

“That little witch—!!”

But then—

With Evan begin to smirk, the time itself seemed to pause.

Mid-fall, Nagi's head halted in the air, as if held by unseen strings. The droplets of blood trembled and then reversed.

With a sound like magnetized steel snapping into place, his head reattached. Muscles, bones, nerves have restored in seconds.

Nagi exhaled slowly, his gaze instantly looked at Cerys.

Cerys's mouth fell slightly open.

“Wh… what…?”

Gasps now came from Reuben's army.

The Welch side roared with fury and awe.

“HE’S IMMORTAL!!”

“SERANIA’S BLESSING!”

“HE’S ONE OF US!!”

Evan grinned widely. His sharp teeth glinted in the firelight, eyes glowing like a beast who'd been hiding a secret for too long.

"Now, do you see?" he said, voice like silk and thunder. “He's not a toy… He's Kawamura Nagi!”

Cerys gritted her teeth, her bratty facade cracking.

But it was too late.

With a chorus of battle cries, Welch surged forward, weapons raised, magic flaring.

The battlefield erupted.

Steel clashed. Flame and shadow collide. Screams filled the air.

And in the middle of it all, Nagi stood, unarmed, still, as war raged around him.

Pupa landed again on his shoulder, "I don’t like kind of this stuff.” Pupa murmured.

The forces of Reuben and Welch clashed like two titans meeting on the edge of a cliff.

But above it all, two figures stood apart from the mass of foot soldiers.

Evan Aleraf from welch’s kingdom and Cerys Cronabelle from reuben’s kingdom.

Their eyes locked, the air between them rippling like heat rising from burning stone.

Evan walked calmly across the battlefield.

Dark coat fluttering.

Golden eyes unreadable.

Jet-black horn curved slightly from his head like the crown of a devil.

But Evan's power wasn't immortality itself.

He possessed something more sinister.

“Steal.”

His ability allowed him to take the power of another, temporarily mimicking it as if it were his own.

He didn't need a thousand spells or blazing swords.

He needed only one thing, his opponent's strength.

Cerys Cronabelle, she floated above the field like a taunting spirit, her succubus tail curling behind her as her black wings flapped lazily.

Red eyes glinted with madness and creativity.

Her power was Imagination. Whatever she could imagine, became real.

A sword made of candy that cuts steel? A whale made of ink that swallows armies whole?

If she could picture it, she could create it.

But there was a catch, the more complex or massive the object, the more it drained her energy and clarity.

Too much, and her imagination would collapse into a dream, dragging her mind with it.

Now, they faced each other.

"I've been waiting to fight you, Evan," Cerys smirked. "Let's see how much of that brooding attitude is real."

"Words from a brat who paints war with crayons." Evan replied coldly.

Cerys grinned.

She imagined a thousand spears of glass, shimmering in the air.

In an instant, they appeared, swirling above her like the petals of a deadly flower.

“Pierce.”

The spears shot forward, aimed directly at Evan.

Evan didn't move. Instead, he stepped forward once, and the moment one spear touched his body—

He vanished.

Cerys blinked.

“Huh?”

Then, he reappeared behind her, grabbing her wrist.

“I'll borrow this.”

Cerys's eyes widened. “No—!”

A shock of energy passed through their bodies. Evan's body shuddered, and for a split second, his eyes flickered red.

Now, he can imagine too.

"Let me show you what a thief does with art."

He lifted a hand.

From the sky, a thousand black arrows of obsidian rained down—sharper than razors, each aimed precisely.

Cerys yelped and formed a silver umbrella, imagining it into existence just in time.

She gritted her teeth. "You're using MY power?! You jerk!"

Evan grinned, blood leaking slightly from his nose. The power was overwhelming, it wasn't his, and he could feel it draining him already.

“You rely too much on the chaos of imagination,” Evan said. “But I... refine it.”

He imagined chains—thick and glowing—erupting from the ground and wrapping around Cerys's limbs.

Cerys struggles.

“NO FAIR!” she screamed. “Only I get to be insane!”

Her power surged.

Suddenly the sky cracked open, and a giant rubber duck with laser eyes descended.

Evan blinked. “…What the hell?”

PEW-PEW!

Laser beams shot toward him, and he dodged to the side, barely escaping.

Cerys laughed. "Too serious! Too stiff! Imagination is FUN, Evan!"

The duck explodes in confetti. She broke the chains by turning her limbs into liquid shadow, reforming instantly.

She now wielded a staff made of liquid lightning, spinning it around her with manic grace.

"Let's go again, thief."

But Evan's body was already trembling. His limit with stolen powers was closed.

"One more trick..." he murmured.

He imagined a blade. Not made of fire, or ice, or darkness.

But of silence.

A sword that, when swung, erased sound, light, and motion.

He dashed forward—cutting through illusions and creations alike.

Cerys barely formed a shield of living books, but Evan pierced through them.

SLASH.

The ground cracked. A gust of silence burst between them. For a moment, everything was still.

They both stood. Faces scratched. Blood on their lips. Breathing hard.

Cerys smiled through her bruises.

“You're more fun than I thought.”

Evan's horn cracked slightly. His body nearly dropped from exhaustion.

“I hate fun.” he said, and collapsed to one knee.

Meanwhile, Nagi leaned against a stone wall at the edge of the battleground, his gaze hollow, unfazed by the war unfolding before him. His white owl companion, Pupa, rested on his shoulder as always.

Nagi's eyes shifted.

Just ahead, a young boy, no older than ten, brown-haired and shabby clothes, charged recklessly toward an armed adult. His small fists clenched with misguided courage, but he was flung aside like a ragdoll. He hit the ground hard, groaning.

Then came five men, towering over the boy like wolves surrounding a wounded deer. They sneered, barking insults.

“Thought you were brave, huh, runt?”

"Kids like you should just fetch water, not pretend to be soldiers."

"Go cry to your dead mama."

The boy tried to stand. A boot shoved him back down.

Pupa sighed, "They even let kids fight... what is wrong with people?"

Nagi's fingers twitched.

He remembered the hallway.

The snickering students.

The backs that turned away.

The scar they mocked.

His fists clenched.

For the first time since the battle began, Nagi moved.

Pupa slightly flied away, “Nagi…?”

Step by step, slow and deliberate, he walked toward the five men.

They turned at the sound of his footsteps, recognizing him. Whispers broke out.

“It's him... the freak who reattached his head...”

“Don't get close to him, he might be dangerous.”

One of them, braver or stupider than the others, charged. He raised his long axe, slashing downward.

SHRIP—

It cuts clean through Nagi's arm.

The limb hits the ground.

The attacker freezes.

Then, before his horrified eyes, Nagi's arm reattached itself, bones cracking back into place, skin sealing like water closing over a wound.

“H-huh…?” the man stammered.

Nagi calmly stepped forward, and the man stumbled back, dropping his axe with a clang. Nagi leaned down and picked it up, struggling at first, it was heavier than he expected. Still, he lifted it with both hands, now staring directly into the man's eyes.

His stare wasn't angry, but it was dead calm, making the man’s knees buckled.

“R-Run!”

The gang fled like rats, their boots thundering across the stone.

The young boy on the ground stared up, eyes wide in awe.

He clutched his bruised side, whispering, “...Thank you.”

Nagi didn't reply. He just gave the boy a slight glance, then turned away, letting the ax fall with a dull thud.

Across the Battlefield

At the front lines, the clash between Welch and Reuben teetered on the edge of collapse.

Cerys, hair messy, wings drooping from exhaustion, floating just above the ground. Her voice boomed across the field.

"That's enough!"

Everything stopped.

All eyes turned to her, and then to the man she stood across from—Prince Evan, horn cracked, coat tattered, standing tall.

Cerys took a deep breath and forced a smug grin.

"This round's yours, Evan. Welch wins."

A murmur ran through the crowd.

“Retreat, everyone.” Cerys commanded.

Though they hesitated, the soldiers of Reuben began to pull back, some glaring, others relieved. Cerys didn't take her eyes off Evan.

“Next time, your little immortal pet won't save you,” she muttered under her breath.

Evan said nothing.

He simply turned around and smiled.

Behind him, Welch's people let out a roar of celebration, victory washing over them like thunder. Cheers, claps, and chants echoed against the dark stone of the Reuben capital.

And at the back of it all, Nagi stood quietly, the cheers like whispers in the wind.

Pupa, back on his shoulder, blinked slowly.

"So, you do move when it matters." Pupa murmured in sleepy tone.

Nagi didn't reply. His eyes lingered for a moment on the boy still watching him from the shadows.

Then he turned away, stepping into the smoke, once again apart from the world around him.