The Man Who Calls Himself as Ryan Aster

A long time had passed since the battle.

The sun had begun its descent toward the horizon.

Its golden rays slipped through the broken canopy of the ancient forest.

For the first time...

Light reached the ground below.

The forest floor, which had remained hidden beneath those towering trees for countless years, was illuminated by the dying sunlight.

Golden rays touched the earth.

Touched the broken branches.

Touched the blood that had been spilled.

And for a moment...

The Forest of Death looked almost beautiful.

Almost peaceful.

But this ground had witnessed something that perhaps had never happened before.

Two things...

Two impossibilities.

The Forest King...

Had been wounded.

And the ground beneath the ancient trees...

Had finally seen the sun.

For millennia, those rays had never reached this place.

But today...

They did.

Perhaps that was the strange nature of battles.

There were always victors.

There were always those who lost.

Those who stood at the end were remembered.

Those who fell were forgotten.

But...

There was one person who belonged to neither side.

He hadn't won.

He hadn't defeated the Forest King.

He hadn't even survived through his own strength.

He was simply...

Spared.

The vast clearing remained silent.

Broken trees lay scattered across the ground.

Blood stained the earth.

Among the destruction...

A lone figure lay motionless.

He neither moved...

Nor showed any sign of life.

His clothes were torn.

His armor was shattered.

His body was covered in wounds.

The golden weapon that had once appeared in his hands was nowhere to be seen.

Only Vinaas remained.

Unmoving.

Silent.

As though the forest itself had already claimed him.

Then...

Step.

A faint sound echoed across the clearing.

Step.

Another followed.

Someone was approaching.

The footsteps were calm.

Unhurried.

Almost completely out of place within the destruction surrounding him.

The figure finally stopped beside Vinaas.

He looked down.

"..."

His eyes moved over the ruined armor.

The wounds.

The blood.

The destruction stretching across the clearing.

The old man sighed.

"Well..."

He scratched the back of his head.

"Look at the mess you caused."

No response.

The old man crouched beside him.

He carefully examined Vinaas.

"..."

"Still breathing."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"Hang in there, youngin'."

He placed one hand above Vinaas' chest.

For a moment...

Nothing happened.

Then—

Whoosh.

A soft green light burst from his palm.

The light spread across Vinaas' body like flowing water.

It covered his chest.

His arms.

His back.

His legs.

The wounds slowly began responding to the strange light.

The bleeding weakened.

The torn flesh began closing.

Then cough and vinaas started breathing

The old man's expression became slightly surprised.

He stared at Vinaas for several seconds.

Then...

A small chuckle escaped him.

"Well..."

He shook his head.

"Aren't you a stubborn one?"

The green light continued glowing beneath the fading sunlight.

And beneath the broken canopy...

The man who had survived the Forest King's mercy...

Was finally taken away from the battlefield.

Darkness.

That was the first thing I noticed.

Not the darkness that had surrounded me before the battle.

Its Different.

Quiet.

Warm.

"..."

Something soft brushed against my face.

A gentle breeze.

I slowly opened my eyes.

For several seconds...

I couldn't understand what I was looking at.

A ceiling.

A wooden ceiling.

"..."

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

My vision slowly became clearer.

Wooden beams crossed above me.

There were no towering trees.

"..."

I slowly turned my head.

A small window stood on one side of the room.

Sunlight entered through it.

Dust particles floated lazily through the golden beam.

A simple wooden table stood nearby.

Several containers were arranged across it.

Some contained strange-looking leaves.

Others held dried flowers and unfamiliar plants are they herbs stored in there.

"..."

I stared at them.

"...Where..."

My throat felt painfully dry.

I tried speaking again.

"...Where am I?"

No answer.

I slowly attempted to sit up.

The moment I moved—

Pain.

"...Ghh!"

My entire body screamed.

I immediately stopped.

My chest burned.

My back felt like it had been torn apart.

My left arm barely responded.

"..."

I looked down.

Bandages covered parts of my body.

"..."

"Bandages?"

I touched one carefully.

Someone had treated me.

But who?

And how?

My mind began searching for answers.

Then...

A memory surfaced.

A forest.

Wolf-like creatures.

A cave.

crimson eyes.

A massive shadow.

A claw tearing through my armor.

Blood.

Pain.

Then...

A golden sword.

My own voice screaming something.

"SATENNAIL—ANSWER MY CALL!"

The forest exploding with golden light.

And finally...

A voice.

Deep.

Terrifying.

"I am Guliath..."

My eyes widened.

"..."

"The Forest King."

I swallowed.

The memories returned faster.

The battle.

The sword.

The wound I managed to leave on his leg.

Then...

Nothing.

Only darkness.

I placed a hand against my forehead.

"..."

"How am I alive?"

The question escaped before I could stop it.

Guliath could have killed me.

He had every opportunity.

Yet...

He didn't.

Instead...

He spared me.

"..."

"Why?"

My head began throbbing.

"Ah..."

I closed my eyes.

"...My head hurts."

I slowly breathed out.

There was no point forcing myself to remember everything.

First...

I needed to understand where I was.

I looked around again.

Wooden walls.

A wooden ceiling.

A small window.

A bed.

A table.

A few herbs.

Nothing looked familiar.

"..."

"It isn't the forest."

That realization brought a strange sense of relief.

At least...

I wasn't surrounded by monsters anymore.

But that immediately created another question.

"...Then where am I?"

I looked toward the window.

Beyond it...

I could see trees.

But they weren't as dense as the Forest of Death.

There was sunlight.

Open space.

A few wooden structures in the distance.

"...A settlement?"

Maybe.

I couldn't be certain.

I slowly looked at myself again.

My armor was gone.

Along with My sword.

My travel bag was gone.

Someone had brought me here.

Someone had treated me.

Someone had kept me alive.

"..."

"Who?"

I tried remembering the last thing I saw.

Nothing.

Only Guliath disappearing into the forest...

And then...

Darkness.

"..."

"Did someone find me?"

The thought made me uneasy.

If someone had saved me...

Who?

And why?

I slowly moved my legs.

They were weak, but they responded.

That was enough.

I sat at the edge of the bed.

For several moments...

I simply listened.

Nothing.

Just the faint sound of wind outside.

"..."

I looked toward the closed wooden door.

Maybe whoever had brought me here was outside.

I hesitated.

Should I call out?

Before I could decide...

Step.

My eyes immediately moved toward the door.

Another sound.

Step.

Someone was walking toward me.

Slowly.

I instinctively straightened my back despite the pain.

My body wasn't ready for another fight.

But my instincts didn't care.

The footsteps stopped directly outside the room.

I stared at the door.

My heart began beating faster.

Then...

Clank.

The door moved Inward.

I held my breath.

The door began to open.

The door slowly opened.

I immediately tensed.

My body still ached, but instinctively...

I stood in melee defencive pose.

I wasn't sure I could fight.

But I wasn't going to simply sit there and wait for whoever entered to decide my fate.

An old man stepped into the room.

White hair.

A weathered face.

Simple clothing a shirt and shorts.

He looked...

Completely ordinary.

He closed the door behind him and glanced toward me.

I kept my eyes fixed on him.

"Who are you?"

My voice came out harsher than I intended.

"And..."

"Are you the one who brought me here?"

The old man didn't answer immediately.

Instead...

He calmly walked past me.

Straight toward the wooden table.

He pulled out the chair and sat down.

Then he looked at me.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"Is that how you behave toward the person who saved your life, youngin'?"

"..."

I froze.

The tension in my shoulders slowly disappeared.

I lowered my hands.

"...You really are the one who saved me?"

The old man leaned back in his chair.

"Unless you've got another savior hiding under the bed, I'd say that's me."

"..."

Almost.

Instead, I bowed my head slightly.

"Then..."

"Thank you."

The old man raised an eyebrow.

"For what?"

"For saving my life."

I looked directly at him.

"If you really are the person who brought me here..."

"My name is Vinaas Nullka."

"I don't know how I can repay you..."

"...but I'm indebted to you."

The old man waved his hand dismissively.

"Don't worry about all that, youngin'."

"I've been around long enough to know that keeping a dying lad alive is payment enough to send me to heaven."

"..."

I nodded.

Then the questions I'd been holding back finally came rushing out.

"How did you find me?"

"Where am I?"

"What is this place?"

"And..."

I paused.

"What should I call you?"

The old man stared at me for a moment.

Then...

He chuckled.

"Easy there, young chap."

"One question at a time."

I frowned.

"...Sorry."

"No need to apologize."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows against the table.

"As for how I found you..."

His expression became slightly more serious.

"I was out gathering herbs."

"I noticed something strange."

"Trees had been torn apart."

"The ground looked like someone had dropped a mountain on it."

He shook his head.

"And then..."

"I found you lying right in the middle of the mess."

I stared at him.

"...You found me after the battle?"

"That'd be about right."

"And you carried me here?"

"Had to."

The old man smiled.

"You weren't exactly in a condition to walk, were you?"

"..."

"No."

He laughed.

"Thought so."

I looked around the room again.

"And this place?"

The old man pointed vaguely toward the window.

"A small settlement."

"Not much to look at."

"But it's home enough for me."

I nodded slowly.

Then...

I looked at him again.

"And your name?"

The old man smiled.

For some reason...

He hesitated for just a moment.

Then he leaned back in his chair.

"Well..."

"My name..."

He gave a small chuckle.

"...is Ryan Aster."

I repeated it quietly.

"...Ryan Aster."

"That's right, youngin'."

He stood from the chair.

"And you, Vinaas Nullka..."

He looked at me with a strangely knowing smile.

"...have got quite a story to tell."

A strange sensation suddenly ran through my body.

"...Huh?"

Warmth.

It spread from my chest through my arms and legs.

At first...

It felt comforting.

Then—

Thump.

My heart suddenly beat harder.

My vision blurred.

"..."

"What..."

I tried to steady myself against the bed.

But my strength disappeared.

The sudden burst of energy I had felt earlier seemed to drain away just as quickly.

My knees buckled.

"Whoa there!"

Before I could hit the floor...

The old man caught me.

One arm supported my back while the other steadied my shoulder.

"Careful, youngin'."

"You've only just woken up."

I tried to speak.

"...I'm..."

"...fine."

The old man raised an eyebrow.

"That doesn't look like fine to me."

He carefully lowered me back onto the bed.

My breathing was uneven.

"...Why did that happen?"

The old man didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he placed two fingers against my wrist.

His expression changed slightly.

"Hmm..."

Then he muttered something under his breath.

"Raphaswzo."

A faint green light spread from his fingers.

It flowed through my body.

The strange pressure inside my chest slowly disappeared.

My breathing returned to normal.

"..."

I blinked.

"What did you just do?"

The old man withdrew his hand.

"Nothing fancy."

"Just telling your body to calm down."

"..."

I looked at my hands.

A moment ago, they had felt strangely heavy.

Now...

They felt normal again.

The old man stood.

"Your body has been through quite enough."

"You shouldn't be forcing it to do anything yet."

I nodded slowly.

"...I understand."

"Good."

He turned toward the door.

"Get some rest, youngin'."

"I'll hear your story later."

I looked at him.

"...My story?"

The old man glanced back over his shoulder.

"Nobody ends up half-dead in the Forest of Death without having one."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"And I've got a feeling yours is going to be a long one."

He opened the door.

"Until then..."

"Take it easy, old chap."

The door closed behind him.

Clank.

Silence returned.

I remained sitting on the bed.

For a while...

I simply stared at the closed door.

"..."

That old man had saved my life.

He had treated my wounds.

He had even stabilized whatever had just happened inside my body.

I owed him.

There was no question about that.

But...

That didn't mean I could lower my guard completely.

I had trusted people before.

The Cathedral.

The guards.

The people who promised to protect me.

And I had learned what that trust was worth.

I slowly looked toward the window.

The unfamiliar landscape stretched beyond it.

"..."

Thank you, Ryan Aster.

I quietly clenched my fist.

But until I know where I am...

And who you really are...

I'll keep my guard up.

Because after everything that had happened...

I had learned one thing.

"Trust is a luxury... not a cheap serving to be handed out freely."