The Hero from Another World

In a room decorated with scary masks hanging on the wall and animal hides with cursive carvings on the other side, the four of them took a seat on the couch in the middle.

"Can you move a little?" Heon asked the blond mage, slightly reeling away when their tights touched.

"What, afraid you'll be tempted by my body, now?"

The boy with white streaks on his hair almost squeaked.

On the other end of the couch, the green-haired earth mage snorted, hearing Sunny's teasing. But she turned her head to glare, "Don't you dare move closer to me."

In the end, Heon had to grit his teeth and endure the feel of another boy's tight pressed close against his own. He disliked this warmness – moreover so when the boy beside him was a wanted murderer.

Although, he couldn't do much in that department himself. After all, he was also a wanted murderer, according to the posters along the public walls of the entire Kingdom of Bahran Pasai.

"So, what brings you all here to my humble abode?"

The three of them looked up and saw the old, bald man in front of them. He brought a tray in his hand, and from the short sleeves of his white shirt, Heon saw a dark ink on his wrinkled skin.

Aaric Langhorne caught his gaze, and he smiled. Soft thuds accompanied the way he placed the three wooden mugs against the table. "Just so you know, I don't normally open my door for anyone."

The look was directed to the boys, but it was Azran who spoke for them. "This is my … acquaintances." A hesitation, thick uncertainty in her voice was deemed appropriate. "We want to ask you some questions."

A single raised eyebrow made Aaric's forehead wrinkled, apparent due to his hairless head. The green-haired girl did not mention their names, making the bald man suspicious. It was only politeness to introduce someone new. Moreover, when they were a guest, they were received with civility.

He knew Azran deliberately avoided saying their name. Even pretending that it was alright to not mention their name at all. But Aaric wouldn't want to have any of it.

So, leveling a certain look at the two young men sitting opposite him, Aaric asked. "And do you boys have any names to go with?"

Despite the soft tone and non-threatening atmosphere, Heon was greatly against saying his name. No matter how Azran tried to convince him during the short journey that Aaric Langhorne would be on their side, he was still uneasy.

Heon was about to spill a made-up name he remembered from the history book. However, Sunny beat him to it.

"Sunny Graver," he said without missing a second, "And he's the kingslayer. Heon Lightwalker."

In an instant, a transparent liquid with a strange smell was spat from Aaric's mouth. He coughed for a few seconds. No one had any desire to help him out. Even Azran.

Especially Azran.

The green-haired mage immediately brought a hand to her face, wiping some of the drink that landed on her. She tried to play it cool, but still, Heon knew she was disgusted – and aghast, that Sunny cheerfully and easily mentioned their names without a second thought.

A punch landing right at Sunny's far too-wide grin was the only consolation he got for the trouble that would surely come.

"Why not tell the whole world too?" Heon said through clenched teeth.

In an instant, green-hued light glowed softly around the blond's cheek, fixing the faint damage Heon's stinging fist left behind. He smirked again, "Why beat around the bush when we came here in the first place to look for information and hide?"

Before he could answer, a chuckle was heard in the strangely decorated room. "I like how you think, boy," Aaric told them, picking up the wooden mug and sipping at the content.

Heon blinked his brown eyes, fingers unconsciously fiddled with his sleeve. His hand returned to its standard color after waking up in the boat. Probably also after Sunny healed it without him knowing. The excruciating pain and searing burn had gone without a trace.

He couldn't help but quip, "It's fine with you?"

The bald, old man smiled, locking eyes with him from the top of his wooden mug's rim. "No need to fret over something like that."

A pair of brown eyes narrowed dangerously at that. Heon glanced at the green-haired earth mage for a second before he looked at Aaric again. "She said you used to be a guard in the capital?"

Aaric cleared his throat before answering, "What about it?"

"Do you know why they claimed that I–"

"I need to know if you still have contacts with your men in the capital." Azran cut in, not giving him a chance to ask about the big mystery surrounding himself.

Heon was dying to know about it, but he had to wait a little longer.

"And what business does this princess have that she need to inquire me about my nonexistent men?" Aaric thoroughly brushed off his question. He guessed favoritism also exists in this parallel world. Men would always prefer the opposite gender.

Preparing for what she was about to say, Azran took a deep breath. "You've known me for years, and I trust you. Always."

"A sentiment we share, yes."

"So, you know that I would never befriend people like them if I had any choice in my hands."

Aaric's eyes flicked to the boys. "And what kind of people are they?"

"A psychopath and an amnesiac, mad murderer."

"HEY!" The boys protested in unison.

"You may call me names, but I will not," Sunny paused for dramatic effect, "I will not let you think of this friend of mine as an amnesiac, mad murderer."

Heon blinked in confusion. What was Sunny's angle now?

"One," the blond held up a finger, "He might be the one who killed the king, but he's neither mad nor amnesiac."

Aaric commented. "Explain then."

Leaning closer, Sunny said in a half-whisper. "Heon is the hero summoned by Gods here to defeat the Spellbinder Terror."

"…"

"…"

"You–"

Another punch landed on Sunny's cheek. He was thrown to the side, slumping against the green-haired girl who instantly shoved the blond to the floor. Serve him right for making a fool out of the boy with white streaks on his hair.

However, the quiet, calculating gaze from Aaric made them pause. "Summoned by Gods, you say? Did one of them wear a yellow cloak, by any chance?"

Heon gulped, not expecting this seemingly random question.