Shadowing Fear

I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep, but before I knew it, the sun was already high, and the birds were chirping outside. My eyes groggily opened as the sunlight shone directly on my face. The warmth of the morning and the blinding light forced me awake, and I stirred, feeling a wet trail of drool on the window frame.

"Huh? It's morning already?" I muttered, still half-asleep. This was the first time I had slept soundly since coming into this world. Despite the exhaustion from the past events, I felt surprisingly refreshed, as if my energy had been restored. However, my body still felt a bit heavy. I should have just laid down on that soft, inviting bed last night.

My stomach growled as I stood up and walked toward the still-locked door. I wiped the drool from my chin, sniffed my hand, and winced at the sour smell. Even my breath was terrible. Imagine two weeks without brushing your teeth or rinsing your mouth.

This world resembled the medieval age. Did they even have toothbrushes or any means of maintaining proper hygiene here? I remembered how clean the characters in the game looked and wondered if it was just for aesthetics. But after seeing the maid, the king and the members of the Guardian, they seemed clean. Except for them, everyone else had an unkempt appearance.

Though the fear from last night still lingered within me.

I eyed the doorknob, wondering what lay behind that door. I wanted to knock and ask, but fear held me back. "Never mind," I whispered, retreating to the bed and lying down again. It's not like I'd die from skipping breakfast.

Not long after, one of the maids came in with a tray of food. It looked luxurious compared to the meager scraps I had been surviving on. After she left, I couldn't help but feel a sense of delight. This was the first proper meal I'd had in a while, and the atmosphere, though strange, made it feel special. If only I weren't confined to this room.

I quickly started eating, making a bit of a mess. Bread crumbs scattered, and some of the soup spilled onto the clean floor. I ate like a child—there's no better way to describe the scene I was making.

As I was eating, the king entered the room. His eyes fixed on my small, hunched figure. He walked towards a flower pot and discreetly took something from it.

"Tell me your story," he commanded, standing idle as he pocketed the object.

I remained silent, unsure of what to say. I had already spilled everything last night.

"Speak," he said louder, startling me.

Hesitating, I opened my mouth but couldn't find the right words. He sighed, his patience thinning. "Fine then. Tell me if you know anything more about Mordras."

What? Why is he asking? Isn't he Mordras? Or was he not? Confused and nervous, I decided to ask directly. According to the novel, Mordras could disguise himself and talk in the third person while dressed as someone else. But he couldn't escape the lie-detecting power of the lie-seeking stone, and I noticed he had one dangling from his wrist.

"so you aren't Mordras?" I asked timidly, earning a surprised look from him.

His gaze hardened, becoming sharp and intense. "What made you think I am Mordras? Do you even know who I am?"

"Please, just say no," I whispered weakly, fear creeping back into my voice.

'What's wrong with this child?' the king wondered, perplexed by my question. Still, he answered firmly, "No."

I kept my head lowered, a faint smile tugging at my lips. To him, I must have looked like I was on the verge of tears. But I heard his denial clearly, and the stone didn't react. I was certain now that he wasn't Mordras. The weight of fear lifted slightly off my shoulders.

Though I still feared them for what they did to me last night, at least it wasn't Mordras.

If this isn't Mordras, then that means he still hasn't met Derion. Then I remembered a message from Fulgur before all this started, "Maybe you can change their dark fate."

'Don't be silly,' I thought bitterly. 'I would have been willing to stay if this were a virtual world, but no. This is a world where you can't respawn after death. A dangerous one where all endings lead to destruction.'

"You seem to have a lot on your mind," the king observed.

"No," I replied, and the stone reacted.

"Everyone has secrets. Don't think this is over," he said, his tone serious. "I'll give you until tomorrow to think. Tell me everything you know about Mordras, or we'll do it our way." He mimicked a slicing motion across his forehead, making his threat clear.

I trembled, my appetite disappearing. I didn't finish the meal on the tray. At the same time, I was fuming with anger—angry at myself, angry at everything that had happened. Why couldn't I catch a break?

As he was about to leave the room, he added, "Get dressed. I'll have someone attend to you later,"

And with that, he walked out, his footsteps echoing down the corridor and stairs.

I clenched my fists hard. 'Why am I so powerless?' I thought, frustration boiling inside me. I wanted to vent my anger somewhere, but I couldn't. I was used to hiding my emotions, except fear.

'Anyway, where am I even supposed to get clothes?' I wondered. I walked over to the cabinet and opened it, revealing beautiful dresses—not too fancy, just like what I was wearing.

'How am I even wearing this, anyway?' I thought, rummaging through the clothes. Finally, I found something more comfortable. It was a girl's outfit, but it was the closest thing to boy's wear I could find. It wasn't a skirt, it looked like jogging pants and a white shirt with long sleeves covering my arm, just about my size.

'Is there another child here?' I wondered, seeing how there were enough clothes for two people.

After changing, I walked towards the now-unlocked door, slowly peeking outside before stepping out cautiously. The interior was stunning—beautifully sculpted pillars, intricate statues, and paintings of the royal family adorned the walls. Most of the names didn't register in my head, but a few did.

In the game, this place was ruined. The paintings on the walls were destroyed, barely retaining full faces. But now, I was seeing them in their perfect form.

One name caught my eye—Haron Fraziel—his picture hanging above a golden coffin.

"What is this?" I whispered, this being my first time seeing a coffin in this place.

But as I studied the paintings, something nagged at me. Why couldn't I find a single image of the king? Who is he, anyway? I still didn't know his name.

As I walked further, I reached a staircase leading down to the main hall. Just as I was about to step down, a hand tapped my shoulder, startling me.

"Eek!" I squeaked, spinning around. It was the maid.

"Yoy were told to stay in youre room.... Follow me," she instructed.

She led me to an office where the king was reading a book. As soon as he saw me, he called out, "Come here, kid."

I meekly approached, my head lowered in front of him.

A butler entered, accompanying someone. As soon as I saw the person's face, we were both surprised.

"YOUR MAJESTY! THAT'S THE CHILD—THE SOLE SURVIVOR FROM THAT VILLAGE!" the man screamed, his voice filled with shock.

Realizing his outburst, he quickly shut his mouth and kneeled. "I apologize for my sudden outburst," he said, his tone instantly respectful.

"Gashdall," the king called, and the butler nodded, approaching the king with a professional demeanor.

The king handed him a paper. "Give this to him," he instructed. "Five minutes, he added as the butler vanished in an instant.

"Come closer," the king commanded.

I stepped forward, but he clarified, "Not you."

Knight Evan stepped forward instead. His hair was slightly shorter this time, and he wore different armor, entirely unlike what I had first seen him in.

His left eye was bloodshot, as if coated with a layer of red.

I averted my gaze from him. He was still a stranger to me, despite knowing him from this world. I didn't know him from the novel.

Abel had told me his name, and remembering that just brought back my nightmares. His crushed upper half haunted my thoughts, and the images of the people in the dungeon flooded my mind. All of them wanted to escape, and yet here I was.

"I really suck, huh," I muttered with a bitter smile, silently crying.

Noticing my distress, Knight Evan stepped forward to comfort me, wrapping me in his arms.