Still, Chris bore it all. For his sister.
Then, years later, disaster struck—bandits from the Diamond Kingdom breached the village's outer wards. Crops were burned, water poisoned. Nivier was sick, burning with fever and dehydrated. Chris had no choice.
So he devised a plan.
He wore his old, worn red cloak—once his father's. Then he knocked on the village chief's door.
"Let me surrender myself. I'll lead the bandits into the cursed ruins outside the valley. But please, take care of Nivier. She's innocent."
"You can't trust him!"
"His parents were traitors who sold us out to the Spade Kingdom years ago!"
"He'll betray us again!"
The villagers shouted. But then, Chris knelt. His forehead hit the cold floor with a thud.
"I don't care if you never forgive me. I just want my sister to survive. Let her live a life where people respect her. I'll bear everything else."
Ross, the old village chief, finally turned away. "Go. Whether you're a hero or a liar... doesn't matter now. Just go."
He remembered when Chris had come to his door as a starving child. "Just a bowl of porridge… for my sister…"
He'd watched the boy run through the snow, cradling the bowl like it was made of gold. Not a single bite passed Chris's lips.
That was the first time he begged. For her.
Now, he was begging again. For her.
****
"Jie jie jie… so the 'Red Cloak of Windvale' wants to threaten me now?" The bandit leader stepped forward, mana coiling around his fists like serpents of flame. "I heard rumors about some peasant who played hero around these parts. Didn't expect it to be real."
Chris's figure began to shimmer, standing tall despite the blood staining his clothes. The red cloak fluttered, tattered but defiant.
The flames reflected in his tired, resolute eyes.
"I don't need to be a hero for the world," he said, "Just for her."
Chris's red cloak, once a symbol of hope, was now soaked in blood and mud. He lay sprawled on the ground, bruised and barely conscious. Around him, the aftermath of chaos was undeniable—signs of violence, shattered earth, and the heavy stench of death. These bandits were desperate, ruthless, and willing to do anything to escape.
"Brother!" Nivier's voice cracked, her eyes instantly flooding with tears.
"It's okay… your brother's a hero now," Chris forced out with a strained smile, his lips trembling, face swollen. "No one will bully you anymore, Nivier. You… you can finally live like the other girls."
"Brother, don't say that! I didn't want a hero—I wanted you alive!" Nivier sobbed, her small hands gripping his torn sleeve.
Chris coughed, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. "They never should've hated us… for the sins of our parents… How can they resent such a kind, beautiful girl like you?"
The leader of the bandits let out a low chuckle, amused by the emotional exchange. "Touching. But if you want him to live, girl, just tell me where the exit is. Give me that… and I might let all of you go."
His voice dripped with mockery. He had no intention of keeping his word.
"Don't trust him!" Chris gasped, clinging to the man's leg in a last act of defiance. "Run… please…"
"Jeez, you're a stubborn one," the bandit leader sneered, and then—crack!—he drove a brutal elbow into Chris's back.
"Chris!" Nivier shrieked as blood burst from his lips again.
Suddenly, a calm voice echoed through the corridor.
"Is there truly no one faster than the flame in your hand?"
The leader turned. "What?"
Asta stood at the edge of the torchlight, his anti-magic sword gleaming with dark energy. His expression was unreadable—calm, but deadly.
"You're from the Magic Knights?" the bandit leader scoffed. "Don't move, boy. I'll burn him alive before you can blink."
Asta didn't flinch.
"Shadow Shuriken Technique!" In a flash, kunai soared through the air—one of them pinning the bandit's shadow to the ground, a move that confused the enemy just long enough.
"Wha—He moved? He actually moved?" the leader gasped, stunned. "Doesn't he care if the hostage dies?"
But before he could raise his hand, Asta's demonic speed kicked in—Black Asta, cloaked in anti-magic energy, vanished from sight.
And then—boom!—the bandit leader was slammed against the wall, Asta's hand gripping his throat with terrifying strength.
"Y-You… What are you?" the man choked.
"I'm a Magic Knight," Asta replied, voice cold. "You used fire magic… It illuminated your shadow. That was your biggest mistake."
Noelle gasped, wide-eyed. "He's… He's that fast? That strong?"
Vanessa smirked from the side. "Heh. Our Asta's a beast when it comes to saving people."
"He's really a strong boy," she added quietly, pink eyes watching him with admiration.
Asta turned to them, still holding the bandit. "We're taking him with us. He won't be hurting anyone else."
With a casual flick, Asta slammed the man's body into the cave wall, knocking him unconscious.
"Boom!" echoed the impact, sending a cloud of dust—and worse—into the air. The cave suddenly stirred to life.
"Jie jie jie!" echoed screeches from the darkness. With the firelight disrupted and noise rousing them, hundreds of insects and bats began crawling and flying out of the crevices.
"Go!" Vanessa shouted, face paling. "This place is about to be flooded with bugs!"
"You all go first!" Asta commanded, stepping forward. He clenched his teeth and gathered chakra.
"Fire Style – Fireball Jutsu!" he roared.
The flames incinerated the first wave of insects. But more were coming.
"Noelle, go now!" Vanessa urged, dragging Nivier to her broom.
"I can't just leave him!" Noelle protested, her heart pounding.
"You're not," Asta said, stepping beside her. Without warning, he lifted her up, cradling her bridal-style. "Hold on tight!"
"Wha—" Noelle's face turned crimson, but she wrapped her arms around his neck.
With his other arms, Asta carried Chris and the bandit leader.
"Let's move!"
Vanessa soared ahead on her broom with Nivier, while Asta darted forward using Black Asta form, tearing through the cave like a storm.
Behind them, the creatures screeched—but when they reached the cave mouth, they shrank back.
Sunlight. Their salvation.
"We made it…" Noelle gasped, breathless. "That was too close…"
"Brother!" Nivier rushed to Chris's side the moment they touched down outside. He looked half-dead, barely holding on.
"He's still alive," Asta said, kneeling beside him. "Barely. But his spirit's strong."
Chris let out a sob. "Why did you come? You could've died…"
"Silly brother," Nivier whispered, eyes glistening. "I'd go anywhere for you."
She gave him water, but Chris coughed violently, blood staining his lips.
"His lungs were hit," Vanessa said, gently holding Chris upright. "He's lucky to even be breathing."
"Noelle," Asta said. "Do you still have that recovery potion?"
Of course there is!" Asta exclaimed, pulling out a recovery potion he had recently exchanged from the system shop. He handed it to Niviel, who carefully helped Chris drink it.
The potion's primary function was to restore mana, but it also had minor regenerative effects on physical injuries.
Noelle nodded and quickly retrieved the mana-infused elixir, holding it to Chris's lips.
"Drink slowly," she said softly.
Chris drank. The bleeding began to ease.
After a few gulps, Chris's breathing steadied, his face regaining color. The tight pain in his chest vanished as his lungs rapidly healed.
"Th-thank you…!" Chris said hoarsely, overwhelmed.
Asta stood up, gazing into the horizon. The sun shone down on them now, warm and golden.
The nightmare was over—for now.