The Birth of an Aide
"..."
"Ugh... uwaagh..."
I clutched my head, curling tightly into a crouch. Tira stared down at me, her expression utterly blank—a chilling mask devoid of any emotion whatsoever.
“Good grief... things have tangled into quite the mess...”
"Ngh... aaaaagh..."
“Cease your whining and stand up. We must leave this place.”
"...Ugh... fine... I get it."
Pressing my palms against the ground, I forced myself slowly to my feet.
“I shall borrow this body for a moment.”
"...What?"
A blinding throb split through my skull.
"Kh... aagh...!"
A searing ache tore through my brain. My head. My head was—
"Fuuuh..."
Al Camidew exhaled a long, heavy breath. The instant the breath left his lips, the atmosphere of the room shifted entirely.
"...Lord Al Camidew?"
"So—what is the meaning of this?"
"...Pardon?"
"Did this presence ever command you to go this far?"
"...No, My Lord."
"Then why, pray tell, did you slaughter this brat?"
"...I beg your forgiveness."
"No. You are to answer my question."
Snap—
He snapped his fingers once. It was a casual flick, neither exceptionally hard nor soft.
Yet the space where Tira's left arm existed was instantly severed.
"Khhk...!"
"Answer me. What drove you to such an impulsive display?"
"...Forgive... me."
"Hah... Answer me at once."
Snap—!
He snapped his fingers with far greater force than before. The space encompassing Tira's right arm was brutally excised.
"Aaaagh...!!"
"Where is my answer?"
"...It was because of..."
"Because of what?"
"...Jealousy. It was out of jealousy."
"Jealousy?"
"Do you have any idea how long we waited for your return, Lord Al Camidew?"
"And?"
"Four hundred years! We endured four hundred years! Yet you cast us aside, dragging along some stranger you just met and spouting incomprehensible words—"
"Silence. That is quite enough."
Al Camidew raised a single hand, cutting her off without a shred of remorse.
"And what of it?"
"...What?"
"Does any of that grant you reason to defy my command?"
"How could you... We were imprisoned here for four hundred years!"
"Must I concern myself with such petty grievances?"
"What... what are you saying...?"
"That is your burden, not mine. It has nothing to do with this presence."
Tira froze, stricken as if physically struck by his words. Ignoring her entirely, he continued with icy indifference.
"You need only obey my commands like loyal dogs."
"How... how could you utter such cruelty...!"
"Be quiet. You are an eyesore."
Snap—
He flicked his fingers one final time.
The space where her head rested cleaved apart. Her body collapsed limply to the floor, like a puppet whose strings had been severed.
"Hah... It seems I must act myself."
Opening the door, he stepped out of the corpse-laden chamber. The world beyond the threshold was breathtaking. Far past the endless horizon, the sun was rising, casting radiant morning light across the fading night sky.
"Fuuuh... Shall we begin?"
He raised both hands high into the air, his palms blotting out the stars scattered across the celestial expanse.
"Open the Gate."
Ruuuumble—!
With a deafening roar, the heavens began to tear open. The sky—the vast, infinite night sky—split down the center. A crimson, eldritch aura surged outward from his figure like a tidal wave.
"Phew... It has been far too long. Quite taxing..."
The sky peeled away along the jagged fissures. Where the nocturnal heavens had stretched, clear azure skies broke through. The boundless watery horizon melted into rolling green fields. The boundary encasing the sub-dimension blurred, faded, and dissolved into nothingness. Before long, he was no longer standing upon the mirrored surface of water, but amidst a sea of lush, swaying grass.
"Tira, come forth at once."
"Yes... you summoned me, My Lord..."
As though she had never been butchered moments before, Tira materialized completely intact. Yet her expression was even more hollow, drained of whatever lingering vitality she had possessed.
"This is your final chance. There will not be another."
"Yes... I am deeply sorry..."
"Very well. I leave him in your care."
Thud—
His body collapsed into the breeze-swept grass.
"Uuugh... my head..."
Clutching my throbbing temples, I opened my eyes to the open field.
"...Where the hell are we now?"
"This place lies beyond the sub-dimension. It is known as the Great Plains."
"...Why the hell are you standing there?"
"By the decree of Lord Al Camidew, I am now Lord Altin's personal secretary."
"Secretary, my ass. You expect me to buy that?"
The instant I moved to stand and tear her apart, a dry voice echoed inside my mind.
“Hey, there is no need to fret. What the wench speaks is the truth.”
"...What? You expect me to take the psycho who literally just murdered me as my secretary?"
“Considering her past devotion to this presence, I chose to overlook her transgressions just this once.”
"Well, I sure as hell don't accept it. Hey, you."
I leveled an accusing finger at her.
"Yes, Lord Altin?"
"...So you're really claiming to be my secretary now?"
"Yes. That is correct, Lord Altin."
"And what stops you from flipping out and butchering me again?"
"Such an act is impossible due to the Pact engraved upon my heart."
"The Pact?"
"Yes."
She placed a pale hand squarely over the center of her chest.
"The Pact is an absolute restriction carved into the soul. I am incapable of violating it."
"Then how did you kill me before?"
"...Under normal circumstances, defying the Pact would have extinguished my existence. However, Lord Al Camidew chose to restore me."
"He saved you? How?"
"Because the one who originally bound me to this Pact was none other than Lord Al Camidew himself."
"...Sigh. Whatever. Do whatever you want."
I collapsed flat onto my back against the ground. The bristling texture of the wild grass pricked against my skin.
"Hey, Al Camidew."
“...Yawn... Do not disturb this presence.”
"What? Why all of a sudden?"
“Tearing through that sub-dimension... expended far too much power... Do not call upon me for a while...”
"...Fine. Then hey, Tira."
Lifting my chin slightly, I glanced at her.
"Yes, Lord Altin."
"Guide me somewhere."
"Guide you...? Where would you like me to lead you?"
"A town. A settlement. Even if this is another world, there have to be people living somewhere."
"A town... you say..."
"Yeah. When you drop into another world, hitting up a town is common sense."
"Understood. Allow me to guide you."
Tira turned her gaze forward. Her striking blue eyes widened as she gathered her focus, her lips parting in a soft whisper.
"Open Gate."
Riiip—
Space tore open before our eyes. Yet the sensation was entirely unlike Al Camidew's violence. Where his manifestation had been sharp, bloody crimson, Tira's was a gentle, undulating gold. The rift shimmered like molten light, radiating a warm luster.
"...What is this?"
"It is a Gate."
"A Gate...?"
"A dimensional threshold capable of traversing space to another location."
"A dimensional rift, huh... You aren't trying to drop me into a death trap like last time, are you?"
"Not at all. You may step through with absolute peace of mind."
"Right... I'm going in, then...?"
Pushing myself up, I walked slowly toward the glowing aperture. A gentle suction tugged at the air, a faint breeze pulling inward that spurred my footsteps onward.
"Whew... here goes nothing...!"
Fwwwooosh—
I crossed the threshold into the portal. Brilliant golden radiance enveloped me, accompanied by an eerie sensation of weightlessness. Only after the blinding luminescence ebbed away did I slowly pry my eyes open.
"...Whoa."
The exclamation slipped out of me unbidden. It was an astonishing sight. A bustling, vibrant marketplace packed with throngs of people naturally drew my feet forward. Carriage-like conveyances rolled over the paved streets while merchants hollered at the top of their lungs to hawk their wares. Amidst such an overwhelming crowd, nobody paid any mind to my sudden appearance.
"Hmph... So what am I supposed to do from here...?"
I had no real goal. If pressed to name one, it was simply to avoid suffering any more pain. I had lived a hollow, lethargic existence back in my original world; getting dumped into another realm wasn't going to magically overhaul my personality overnight.
"Guess I'll look around first..."
Drifting casually through the stalls, I took note of the local living standards.
"Hmm... Looking at the clothes everyone's wearing... Is this roughly the medieval era...?"
The commoners were dressed in modest, rustic garments straight out of a fairy tale. A few men patrolling the avenues wore iron plate armor—likely city guards.
"I really am in another world..."
Up until now, none of it had felt entirely real, but seeing this bustling scenery right before my eyes made the truth hit home with absolute clarity.
"W-Watch out—!!"
"Huh?"
Crash—!
Someone collided into me with full force.
"Ugh, what the...?"
"H-Heeek!"
I looked down at the person who had crashed into me. Calling her a woman would have been an overstatement; she was a tiny child. With pitch-black hair and striking crimson eyes, the little girl was already on the verge of tears.
"...Why are you crying all of a sudden?"
"Heeek! I'm—I'm so sorry!!"
Sniffling furiously, the girl bowed her head repeatedly in frantic apology.
"Wait... for what?"
"Y-Your clothes...!"
"Ah."
Only then did I realize that water was dripping down my front. Seeing the spilled wooden bucket clutched in her trembling hands, she must have drenched me head-on when we slammed into each other.
"Ah... it's fine. These clothes don't get wet."
"...Pardon?"
"Look for yourself."
I tugged at my lapel, showing her the immaculate, bone-dry fabric of my suit.
"H-Huh...?"
"See? Not a single drop soaked through, right?"
"...Yes."
"So don't worry about it. Go on, run along."
"B-But..."
"Yeah?"
The little girl fidgeted nervously before finally working up the courage to speak.
"Y-You look like... a very important noble..."
"...What? An important person?"
I tilted my head in confusion before catching sight of my own attire. A sharp black suit. Unlike the coarse tunics of the commoners, it looked like the refined livery of a high-ranking aristocratic butler.
"Ah... haha. Despite how I look... I'm just a penniless bum."
"A... a bum...?"
"Yeah. A beggar without a single copper coin to my name."
"L-Liar! Beggars don't wear fancy clothes like that...!"
"Hmm... fair point. In that case—"
Pondering what plausible title I could use instead of a beggar, a single profession surfaced in my mind.
"—An aide. Yeah, that's it. I'm an aide."
I recalled the dream of my youth, the goal I had once harbored: to be an aide.
‘Since I don't have any real status anyway... might as well invent a fake one.’
With that silent thought, I proudly stated my newly minted profession to the child.
An aide.
Upon hearing that word, the little girl's crimson eyes began to sparkle with brilliant wonder.
"W-Woooow..."
For as fate would have it, she too had been searching desperately for an aide.
Her very own aide—one who would look only at her.