Because of Love

He didn’t know how many times he had woken up in this dim, oppressive cell. Ewan’s eyes were still full of a deep, soul-crushing exhaustion, threaded with a web of bloodshot veins, as if he had pulled several all-nighters in a row in the deepest circle of hell.

“Hooo…”

Ewan let out a long, ragged breath, forcing himself to rally his flagging spirits.

He briefly checked the status of his progress in the black book.

Dagger Combat LV5

Shadow Step LV2

“Another nearly three hundred death experiences,” he muttered, a grimace on his face. “It’s just so, so painful.”

“But it seems I’ve hit a bottleneck. No matter how much I grind, my skill levels won’t increase any further.”

“Especially Shadow Step.”

His gaze darkened.

In the black book’s training space, he could now execute the technique almost perfectly. There had even been several glorious, triumphant occasions when the dagger in his hand had managed to cut the assassin’s skin, leaving visible wounds. Although he was still a long, long way from actually defeating her, victory no longer seemed like an impossible, distant dream.

But no matter how proficient he became with Shadow Step in the simulation, the skill level recorded on the book’s pages remained stubbornly stuck at LV2, refusing to budge. Dagger Combat, on the other hand, had improved by leaps and bounds with all the constant, brutal practice and was now at a respectable LV5.

“As I thought… it has to be the limitations of my rank, doesn’t it?”

He sighed softly. In the simulation, he could clearly feel his proficiency improving, but the display remained unchanged. This meant that it wasn’t his proficiency that wasn’t improving, but that his current physical body could only handle a LV2 Shadow Step. And considering how agonizing it had been to use it at LV1, using it at LV2 with this body that didn’t even have a wisp of battle aura would probably be excruciating.

“But I have no choice. I have to seize every single moment to increase my strength!”

Ewan’s eyes were firm, a burning determination in their depths.

Even if he was being imprisoned, fed, and… serviced by a beautiful, terrifying maid, he still had a heart that yearned for the sweet, sweet taste of freedom!

“Hmph. Did you really think that just by doing all this, I would have no way to escape?”

Looking at the fist-sized, and very sturdy-looking, lock on the iron bars, Ewan couldn’t help but flash a wicked, confident smirk. “You’ve underestimated me, Anne.”

“Now, all the pieces are in place. All I need is a gentle east wind. I’ll be waiting for you,” he whispered to the empty room, “and for the fish you promised to bring.”

…

“Wait, don’t tell me something went wrong…”

Ewan’s eyes suddenly flew open, a new wave of panic washing over him.

Although there was no clock in this room, judging by the gnawing emptiness in his stomach, lunchtime had long since passed. But Anne had still not appeared.

“It shouldn’t be a problem, right? Lake Bepor is far, but if she hurried, she should have been able to make it back by now.”

As the minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness, Ewan couldn’t help but let his thoughts run wild.

“But if Anne doesn’t come back, won’t I be trapped in this damn cage forever? And given how remote this place is, my body probably won’t be discovered for hundreds of years!”

“Maybe my ghost will have to wander here for all eternity, never to be reincarnated.”

“And there aren’t even any cute ghost girls in this damn place! Just me, a lonely, pathetic, starving ghost, all by my lonesome.”

“Waaaah… I don’t want that ending! At least send Sadako to keep me company…”

“I knew I shouldn’t have made such an outrageous, difficult request.”

“But I had no choice. If I had just asked for a normal fish, with Anne’s sharp, terrifying mind, she might have suspected something was up.”

“And it was also a precaution, just in case.”

…

“Forget it. I’ll stop thinking about it.”

Ewan leaned his head against the cold, metal wall, a self-deprecating smile on his face.

“I must have been locked up here for too long. My nerves are completely frayed.”

“It’s just catching a fish. How hard could that possibly be for someone like Anne?”

“It’s not like I asked her to go out and slay a monster.”

…

Lake Bepor. A storm of biblical proportions was raging.

Anne stood a few hundred meters from the churning, violent shore, a simple raincoat and hood protecting her from the downpour, her expression as impassive as stone as she listened to a scruffy-looking man yell at her.

“MA’AM, YOU CAN’T GO ANY FURTHER!” he hollered over the roar of the wind and rain.

“LAKE BEPOR HAS BEEN COMPLETELY SEALED OFF! IF YOU WANT TO ENJOY THE SCENERY, PLEASE COME BACK WHEN THE WEATHER IS BETTER!”

The torrential rain, mixed with the deafening roar of thunder, seemed intent on drowning the very world. The man had to shout at the top of his lungs just to be heard.

“IN ANY CASE, YOU SHOULD TURN BACK NOW! IT’S DANGEROUS HERE!”

“Did something happen?” Anne asked, her delicate brows furrowed, an air of profound displeasure radiating from her. It was unclear if her annoyance was directed at the man before her or the terrible, inconvenient weather.

“THAT’S NOT FOR YOU TO ASK, MA’AM! JUST LEAVE!” The man was also getting impatient and reached out to shoo her away.

“Hm?”

Anne’s hand shot out, grabbing the man’s wrist in a vise-like grip. Her expression instantly turned as cold as the grave, and her fingers tightened with immense, bone-crushing force.

“I do not like,” she said, her voice a low, dangerous whisper that cut through the storm, “to be touched by men other than my Young Master.”

“What— AAARGH!”

The man cried out in pure, unadulterated agony, his body twisting along with the unnatural angle of his arm.

“If you ever want to hold a dinner knife with this hand again,” Anne advised calmly, “you will tell me exactly what happened here.”

“I’ll talk… I’ll talk…” The man, hearing the sound of his own bones groaning in protest, whimpered in a terrified voice, “It’s the Lord of Lake Bepor! It has appeared!”

“The Lord of Lake Bepor? Isn’t that just a baseless rumor?”

The “Lord of Lake Bepor” was a local legend, a fairy tale told among the fishing villages. It was said that a fish god from ancient times resided in the lake’s deepest trenches, a being that controlled the weather and the tides. But it was just a story. If there really were a fish god in the lake, the Church of Life would have long since declared it a den of an evil god and launched a new, bloody holy crusade.

“But… but the Lord really did appear! It’s a huge, huge fish!” the man wailed. “The Adventurer’s Guild sent someone to identify it. It’s a Dominator-class magical beast! They’ve sent a B-rank adventurer team to subjugate it. That’s why they’ve sealed off the lake. No one is allowed to get close.”

“I see. A Dominator-class magical beast?”

Anne released the man and looked up at the raging, black sky, letting the cold rain pour down on her impassive face. “Then this strange weather must be because of that beast as well.”

“P-probably,” the man said, rubbing his mangled arm and wincing in pain. “In… in any case, you should leave quickly. I can let what just happened slide. A good man doesn’t fight with a woman, after all. But if you interfere with the adventurer team’s mission, you’ll be in big trouble!”

“…” Anne ignored him completely and started walking toward the lake.

“Hey, wait! Even after knowing all that, you’re still going?” the man called after her, his eyes full of utter disbelief.

“Knowing that there’s danger ahead, you’re still going. What could possibly make you so determined?”

“For what reason?”

He hadn’t expected an answer, but Anne suddenly turned back, her face illuminated by a sudden flash of lightning.

With a gentle, blissful, and utterly insane smile on her face, she said, “Because of love, of course.”