[NARRATOR POV]
While Rudeus and Claude exchanged ideas on magic and spells, the fallen Beast-Warriors gathered in the corner to continue their groans of pain. Nearby, Ruijerd and Eris were engaged in an intense sparring match on the open ground.
"You've seen my spar with Claude, right?" Ruijerd asked as he gracefully evaded Eris's attack, his movements fluid despite his imposing stature.
"Yeah! It was a great spar. I had a lot of fun watching it," Eris replied, her crimson hair whipping around as she adjusted her stance.
"Then apply what he did in our training right now," Ruijerd said, stopping Eris's sword mid-swing before sending her flying backward with a calculated push.
"Ugh... I mean, how?" Eris grunted as she regained her footing, frustration evident in her eyes.
"Think more. Claude is the type of person who thinks about the future," Ruijerd explained, his spear held at the ready.
"Erh... What does that mean?" Eris's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Have you heard about his experience in the labyrinth?"
"I do. It's crazy! Even crazier than ours," Eris's eyes widened at the memory of Claude's stories.
"Based on his sparring before, I can deduce that his battle type is unlike ours. While you, Eris, are perfectly compatible with the Sword God's style—a headstrong frontal attack..."
"I learned it from Ghislaine!" Pride filled her voice at the mention of her mentor.
"A different type of style will achieve a different type of battle. While there are several kinds, Claude's way of using his swords is one of survival. In terms of ability, I was better than he was. He can't defeat me, but I am also unable to win against him."
"Huh? Why?" Eris tilted her head, genuinely puzzled.
"His magic, the space-time magic that he created, was used for stopping time. It's an ability that allows him to use guerrilla tactics." Ruijerd paused thoughtfully before adding, "Which means he can attack me, but once he wants to run, no one can stop him."
"Whoa..." Eris's eyes gleamed with newfound respect.
"That's why you should think more about what kind of battle style you want to develop. You need to be adept at countering all the style types from now on."
"Right, in other words. More training, right!" Eris grinned, her fighting spirit undimmed.
"Hmm... that's also true," Ruijerd acknowledged.
Without warning, he swung his spear toward an opening in Eris's guard. The impact sent her flying toward a nearby tree.
"Ugh!"
Instead of crashing, Eris maneuvered herself in mid-air, planted her feet against the tree trunk, and used it as a springboard to launch herself back at Ruijerd, her sword pointed directly at him.
[CLAUDE POV]
I stared at my hands, flexing my fingers and feeling the flow of mana within them. Something was wrong. I seemed to be stuck once again, hitting another plateau.
My mana couldn't grow anymore, at least not with my current methods.
However, thanks to that encounter with the troll, my body's regeneration had improved significantly compared to the past. Small mercies, I supposed.
"Hey, Rudeus. Teach me magic again. I can't seem to progress well these days," I said, swallowing my pride.
What the heck was wrong with that smug face of his? I needed to hold back my fist. I still needed him to teach me magic, after all. One step back for two steps forward—that was the game I had to play.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't my disciple Claude, the one who always says I'm weak... He sure has the gall to ask me to teach him magic..." Rudeus's voice dripped with self-satisfaction.
"Shut it. You are weaker than me overall. Don't deny that," I snapped. The fragments of memories in my mind showed me countless scenarios where this child would grow powerful—but he wasn't there yet, and I wouldn't stroke his ego unnecessarily.
"Urgh... Okay, okay... What a prickly man you are. This is why you won't get any friends," he grumbled.
"Mind you, I've got more friends than you, you know?" I countered, thinking of the village children back home who had gradually warmed to me despite my harsh training methods.
"Ugh... I forgot that the whole village is your playground filled with friends..." He groaned and looked at me with annoyance before gesturing toward the Beast-Warriors. "But, are those guys alright? They're still groaning..."
It had been two weeks since we arrived in the Great Forest. Besides searching the area for survivors or corpses, I'd enlisted the Dedoldia warriors to help. In exchange, I crafted weapons for them and put them through training regimens that would break most men.
They were pitiful—weaker than even Rudeus, which was saying something.
"They're this weak, and you're still losing against Gyes?" I shook my head in disbelief. "I mean, seriously. You need to be more aware of your surroundings. Although a shitty one, you're also a swordsman, you know..."
"Hey, don't lecture me. I was ambushed when I mofumofued this guy here..." He patted the divine beast that seemed perpetually attached to him.
What was wrong with this dog? Was this really a holy beast? It acted more like an overgrown puppy than a sacred guardian.
"Well... leaving that aside, let's continue our training. I also need to learn other languages," I said, redirecting the conversation.
It had taken me just three days to grasp the basics of Beast God language from Ruijerd and Rudeus. They were astonished at my progress, but they didn't understand the cost. The migraine-inducing effort of sorting through fragmented memories, trying to find any linguistic patterns from my other selves that might help accelerate my learning. Nothing came easily to me, despite how it appeared to others.
[NARRATOR POV]
Heavy rain pounded against the thick canopy of leaves above, creating a constant drumming sound that filled the forest. The rainy season had arrived with full force, transforming the landscape of the Great Forest.
The ground below was gradually flooding, making walking impossible in many areas. This was why the inhabitants of the Great Forest constructed their dwellings high in the trees—a practical adaptation to the annual three-month deluge.
Rudeus emerged from the prison where he had been held, his expression a mixture of relief and lingering annoyance as he surveyed the transformed forest. His week-long confinement had been an unexpected complication in their journey, one that Claude had found both ironic and somewhat amusing.
The kidnapping incident that had entangled them all proved to be far more complex than initially apparent. It wasn't a random act of violence but rather a carefully orchestrated large-scale abduction plan by a sophisticated smuggling organization.
Their primary target had been the Holy Beast, the Guardian of Doldia—a creature of significant spiritual and cultural importance to the Beast Race. The smugglers had strategically timed their operation to coincide with the beginning of the rainy season, when the villagers would be preoccupied with preparations and the warriors stretched thin.
Claude stood beneath the shelter of a massive tree, watching Rudeus approach. His eyes narrowed slightly as he recalled the pieces of the puzzle they had uncovered. The fragments of his Miko memories offered nothing specific about this event—either it had occurred differently in the prime timeline, or it was too insignificant to be included in the knowledge that had transferred to him. Either way, it represented another deviation from the path he thought he knew.
The organization's plan had been methodical and multi-layered. First, they hired local kidnappers and coordinated simultaneous attacks on various villages, abducting children from multiple locations to create widespread panic and confusion. They even struck Elven villages—an unusual target that suggested either desperation or a broader agenda than initially apparent.
Armed forces attacked settlements while the kidnappings were underway, forcing the Beast Race warriors to split their defenses. The Dedoldia village had escaped the initial wave unscathed, but this was merely setup for the organization's true objective.
With the warriors of Dedoldia dispatched to aid neighboring villages, elite forces struck the relatively undefended settlement. They succeeded in capturing both the village chief's granddaughter and the Holy Beast—a devastating blow to the Beast Race.
Claude had heard the full story from Ruijerd during one of their training sessions. The Superd warrior had explained how he, along with Gustav and Gyes, had abandoned the search for the kidnapped children to focus on recovering the Holy Beast—a decision that revealed just how sacred the creature was to their people.
By sheer coincidence—or perhaps fate, Claude mused—they had discovered the smugglers' hideout through the smell of blood and the sight of rising fire from Claude's earlier confrontation. This lucky break had ultimately led them to Ruijerd's prison cell and, inexplicably, to where the Holy Beast was being held.
The aftermath had been chaotic. Ruijerd, fueled by righteous fury, had proposed attacking the smugglers' ship before it could depart. With the Beast Race unable to track the children due to some countermeasure the smugglers had employed, they had needed to act quickly and decisively.
The attack succeeded spectacularly. The smugglers were captured, and approximately fifty kidnapped children were rescued from the ship—the largest trafficking operation the region had seen in years.
However, complications arose when Saint Port officials intervened. The Beast Race representatives had protested vehemently, citing the treaty between the Great Forest patriarchs and the Holy Milis Kingdom that explicitly forbade the enslavement of Beast Race people.
The scale of the operation—involving dozens of children from villages across the region—suggested corruption within Saint Port's administration. Officials had been taking bribes to look the other way, a clear violation of the treaty that threatened to fracture relations between the Beast Race and the Holy Milis Kingdom.
The situation had escalated to the brink of war before the Saint Port authorities ultimately withdrew their objections and paid considerable compensation to the Beast Race. The negotiation process, along with the task of returning the children to their families, had consumed an entire week—explaining Rudeus's extended imprisonment.
Now, as Rudeus approached, Claude could see that the boy was clearly displeased about his week in confinement while Ruijerd had been celebrated as a hero and Eris had spent her time surrounded by grateful Beast Race children.
Gyes had already performed the Beast Race version of prostration—lying on his back to expose his vulnerable stomach—as a formal apology to Rudeus. The warrior couldn't reconcile having imprisoned and mistreated someone who had helped save his daughter and remove the seals on their Holy Beast.
Claude watched with mild amusement as Rudeus magnanimously forgave Gyes, playing the role of the dignified adult despite his obvious irritation. The old warrior Gustav had thanked Rudeus for his "tolerance and heart" with an arrogance that Claude found typical of those in positions of authority.
Even Ruijerd had offered to apologize, though Rudeus had declined, acknowledging the Superd's efforts during the past week. The Beast Race had accepted Ruijerd despite his heritage—or perhaps because they didn't fully understand the history of the Superd—and now regarded him as a hero.
Just as the tense situation seemed resolved, Eris had stepped forward and delivered a swift kick to Gyes's exposed stomach.
"Hmph!!" she exclaimed.
"Gof!" Gyes grunted in pain.
Without missing a beat, Rudeus had followed up with a water magic attack: "Give water protection where you want it, and let the clear water flow toward here, Water Ball."
The spell struck the unprepared Gyes with surprising force. The gathered Beast Race warriors looked on in shock.
Eris took her usual fighting stance and announced proudly, "With this, we're even!"
Claude had observed the scene with his characteristic eerie smile—not directed at Rudeus, as the boy had initially assumed, but at the warrior who had been so easily overcome. In his mind, Claude was already planning the intensified training regimen these warriors would need to become truly formidable. They would curse his name before he was done, but they would be stronger for it—strong enough, perhaps, to survive what Claude knew was coming.
The smile remained fixed on his face as Gyes struggled to his feet, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Yes—the Beast Race would need to be much stronger if they were to have any chance against the calamity that Claude's fragmented memories warned of. And he would make them so, even if they came to hate him for his methods.
After all, survival was all that mattered. Everything else—comfort, dignity, even happiness—was secondary to the brutal calculus of continued existence. This was the lesson Claude had learned from the countless failed timelines that haunted his dreams.
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