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Though the man was seemingly immortal, he still feared for him. Perhaps he feared for himself and wanted the reliable fighter with him, or perhaps the child-like part of his brain didn’t want to be left alone in this dreadful situation.

But alas, his frantic run led him to an obstacle–

SMACK.

As he was running blindly into the forest, he ran face first into a bulky tree, being floored by the sudden, harsh impact.

“Ghh!” He winced.

At the end of the day, no matter what spells he had at his disposal, he was still a human of mortal flesh–and a child at that; a collision like that resulted in a quickly-forming welt on his forehead that bruised and bled.

“Gahh…” He exhaled sharply.

Sitting up slowly, he caressed his head as the world spun around him; he was, without a doubt, concussed.

The bushes rattled around him, but as he tried to pick himself up with his staff held high, he could barely even stand upright as his sense of balance was skewed by his discombobulated senses.

That’s when he saw them: the ‘Outriders.’_.

There were six men that came out from the foliage, surrounding him; all were tan and possessed well-conditioned physiques.

What immediately stood out to him were the dog-like ears they possessed, their sharp nails, and the fearsome pupils they possessed. He knew what those traits were:

Demi-humans? He realized.

They were definitely imposing; especially the one who looked to be the leader of the group: a muscular man with long, fiery-red hair that was surprisingly straight. He had tan, golden-brown skin and was covered in white tribal tattoos.

Surprisingly, the presumed leader didn’t wield any weapons, yet silently approached him with unwavering confidence in his abilities.

…I’m not going down without a fight! He thought.

Just as he raised his staff to invoke a spell, a blaring sound that lasted no more than a second pounded his ears.

It came from the red-haired warrior, who had his mouth open and his body flexed as veins pressed against his neck: it was a roar. Though he could hardly hear it as it vibrated his eardrums, he could feel the soundwaves grinding against his skeleton.

What the–?! He thought.

But, it wasn’t just an act of intimidation; his body shook and his fingers quivered, resulting in him dropping his staff as he slowly fell forward like a statue.

I…I can’t move! He realized.

“Migardo snaw boza,” the imposing, fiery-haired man spoke in an unknown language.

These words seemed to be some sort of command given to the other demi-human tribesman, who bound his limbs while he was still left completely stunned by the bestial roar.

…What was that? Magic? I’ve never seen something like that…They’re tying me up? Crap…this isn’t good–where is Vandread? He questioned.

It wasn’t just a paralyzing effect that the roar had on his body; it seemed to exhaust him, dragging him into an unconscious state as he was hoisted up, carried in the arms of one of the tribesmen.

Well, crap. I’m going to become food, aren’t I? He thought.

–

By the time his eyelids parted again, feeling as heavy as stone, he found himself sitting in a room made out of intertwined grass and wood.

“Huh…?” He let out drearily.

As he blinked a few times, he looked up to find the red-haired, demi-human warrior standing in the doorway to the room, leaning against the wall with his bare arms folded across his chest.

“Awake?” The man asked.

He was surprised to find that the man spoke the common tongue of Milligarde. Moving around a bit, he found that his wrists were bound behind his back, but his legs were freed.

A quick glance around the room earned him more words from the muscular, imposing demi-human.

“Your magic weapon isn’t in here,” the man said.

“–“

“Answer my question, and speak only the truth,” the red-haired warrior said sternly, “Did you come here to hunt my people?”

The question came to a shock to him, to which he looked up at the man with an agape expression before shaking his head.

“Hunt? No. Me and my companion–we were just riding through,” he explained.

As he spoke, the man fell silent, staring at him intensely with his silver eyes as he seemed to sniff the air for deception.

“…I see. Well, you were lucky we found you,” the man said.

To his surprise and relief, the man seemed to believe him, walking him and kneeling down before using one of his sharp fingernails to cut through his bindings.

He rubbed his wrists for a moment, wincing a bit as the ropes had been tightly wrapped around his skin for a good amount of time.

It was perplexing to him to hear that as he raised an eyebrow, “Huh? Lucky?–What’re you talking about!? You attacked us! Where is the person I was with, anyway?!”

A look of lamentation was present on the man’s face, but his expression didn’t seem guilty of any crimes; he had an honorable face, with a scar across his left cheek.

“…You’re the ‘Outriders”, right?” He asked, not knowing anymore.

“You’re mistaken; your confusion is understandable,” the man stepped forward, “I am Alekkai, the champion of the Verma clan. The Outriders you speak of are our natural enemies–they’ve tarnished this land with their ways.”

Though this information came to a surprise to his ears, he still didn’t believe the illusion that this man was on his side, or rather, at least not his enemy.

“But, you attacked us–you killed our horse!”

“That wasn’t my people. The Outriders launched that attack, but we managed to intervene in time. If the Outriders have found you, you’d find yourself bound above a giant flame when you’d opened your eyes, child,” Alekkai explained.

“–” He gulped, “the name’s Emilio, not ‘child.”

For some reason, he felt he could believe the words that fell from the champion’s lips; he was a stern-seeming man; as stalwart as a mountain, but noble and rational.

“…Still,, my companion…” He said quietly.

Alekkai looked at him, “I apologize from the bottom of my heart, child. I had my men search the area after we brought you here, but your friend was not found. It pains me to say this, but…if he fell into the hands of the Outriders, then–”

“No.”

“–?” Alekkai looked at him curiously.

“Vandread…he won’t die that easily. Trust me–he’s still there,” he said.