Raphtan
“Sir Tiny, care for a drink? This is that renowned Lübeck wine—you know, the vintage from '21.”
…It’s just grape juice, no matter how you slice it.
Raphtan didn’t know why the man was introducing it with such a proud grin, but he accepted the glass with a smile anyway. He wasn’t oblivious to social cues.
“Haha, such a rare treat. My thanks.”
The reflection of his black hair and black eyes in the crystal goblet still felt unfamiliar, but flashing a calm smile was no trouble at all.
He never imagined he’d put his spirit Rami’s mimicry ability—which he could now use on his own body after reaching the 5th stage as a spirit user—to such underhanded use.
Well, it was a huge help just escaping with it.
His spirit Rami was a cowardly lion at heart, and its first ability upon awakening as a spirit beast had been something as absurd as perfectly imitating nearby objects or animals. The second and third weren’t much better.
Of course, that didn’t make him love his soul companion any less, but he’d been a bit disappointed at first. Lately, though, he was starting to think it was all for the best.
Life really is…
Spirit abilities stemmed from the soul, making them hard to detect even with magic. Plus, most people held this weird prejudice that all spirit users were inherently good folk, which made deception a breeze.
On top of that, the original owner of this stolen identity—the Light Knight—had such distinctive features that no one batted an eye. Rami, a lion by nature, was mimicking a wolf anyway.
How could there possibly be two black-haired, black-eyed wolf spirit users in the world?
What a joke.
With Rami’s unique talents combined with public prejudice, impersonating him had been laughably easy.
He’d once been exploited because of that very bias and even framed for crimes, but now it was working in his favor.
If I didn’t have these powers, I probably wouldn’t have survived hunting spirit stones in orc territory or the outskirts of the Great Forest this long.
As if sensing his irreverent thoughts, Rami—manifested and playing with the noble ladies in the garden—rose to its massive height and shot him a glare.
“Grrowl!”
“Eek~!”
“You look so majestic.”
A creature three meters at the shoulder and over ten meters long should have been terrifying, yet plenty of ladies trembled in awe as they circled it curiously. The sight brought a satisfied smile to Raphtan’s lips, even amid the tension of his performance.
Whatever the real Light Knight’s wolf spirit was like, it couldn’t be as impressive as his Rami.
That thought briefly eased the knot of anxiety from acting among nobles.
But it also dredged up memories of the ordeals he’d endured—the countless humiliations.
—Don’t trust noble brats. They’re devils in human skin. Especially the empire’s nobles…
His father, a hunter who roamed the fringes of the Great Forest and hilly regions, had drilled those words into him. Brainwashed by them, Raphtan had lived his whole life shunning human society.
Looking back now, it’s weird.
Why had a man so skilled in mana cultivation and hunting techniques chosen to waste his later years like that?
—It’s a spirit beast!
—There might even be a spirit stone. With treasure like that, maybe we can turn things around…
If his father hadn’t gotten greedy upon spotting the massive lion—a spirit beast he never expected—Raphtan might have learned the truth by now.
But his father lacked the skill to fully hunt it. Watching over the dying beast—his father’s mortal enemy—and unable to deliver the killing blow had been the right choice, even in hindsight.
Luckily, he’d inherited enough talent in his father’s mana cultivation methods to amass the basic mana needed for a spirit contract at a young age.
After bonding with the lion spirit Rami as his soul companion, he honed his father’s techniques, roaming orc territories and the Great Forest fringes—hunting and resting, nothing more.
He only interacted with humans when selling byproducts to merchants traveling to and from Elvenheim for food and supplies.
If he hadn’t stumbled upon that group of humans by chance, he might have lived that way forever.
—Trading those goods for just a few basics? You’ve got skill, but you’re a bit naive.
They were right. Rage boiled when he realized the merchants he’d dealt with long-term had been ripping him off. Gratitude swelled for the one who revealed it.
—Join us. We’ll help you make a name for yourself in the world.
That decision, born of tangled emotions, upended his life—for the worse.
The very ones who’d “helped” him after the scam turned out to be bigger con artists.
—Oh! A spirit user in your party? We’ll take you on as a guest. A rare talent.
Trailing them exposed him to lavish noble culture for the first time—one of the empire’s top great nobles showed him a dazzling new world, and it enchanted him.
But the sweetness didn’t last.
—How dare you toy with our house!?
They’d used him—or rather, the public’s prejudice toward spirit users—to swindle that great noble. To Raphtan, it felt like a bolt from the blue.
—No, absolutely not me! I had no idea!
—Our house will decide that.
His sincere apologies met only cold disdain, and eventually, the noble offered heavier chains.
—Repay your companions’ damages with your life.
What he proffered was a curse-laden contract. Whether to be shocked that an imperial great noble would shove a black magic contract at a spirit user, or appalled by the stupidity of forcing one on him—Raphtan couldn’t decide.
In the end, he mobilized every ounce of Rami’s power to flee.
Evading pursuit meant he couldn’t safely use his spirit user abilities or manifest Rami.
That house’s hunters were stealthy and relentless. No rumors about him circulated, no bounties posted, yet their underlings kept appearing.
Hiding in shabby alleys dressed as a vagrant only guaranteed thugs or bandits shoving blades in his face.
He couldn’t trust anyone anymore.
—Filthy humans. They deceive each other, over and over.
—And I’m always the one who suffers.
Back then, he was out of his mind with rage at those bastards and the world. He wanted to burn and smash everything in sight.
If the world had been a bit more chaotic, and if he hadn’t heard that one rumor, he might have.
The Light Knight crushes another demon worshipper plot.
Rumors of a spirit user just like him making a heroic name for himself.
—Same spirit user, yet one’s a hero and the other…
Hearing that only fueled his fury. The whole world felt like it was mocking him.
So he transformed—black hair, black eyes via Rami’s mimicry—and planned to wreak havoc. Smash everything visible, loot freely.
He wasn’t in a state to judge right from wrong. Only rage filled him; he hoped that unseen hero spirit user would face the same injustice.
But then.
—Oh my, Sir Light Knight. An honor to meet you.
Just changing his hair and eye color, parading Rami as a massive wolf—and attitudes shifted everywhere he went.
No coin? Still, top inns welcomed him. Nobles showered money just to meet him.
As eyes gathered, that house’s pursuers backed off.
It all reshaped his thinking.
This is honor. This kind of life exists.
And a more vital realization.
Not all humans are filthy.
His aimless fury began to fade.
He sometimes wanted to keep this life, but he knew it wasn’t truly his.
Then the real owner of his stolen identity stirred up something bigger.
The Light Knight saves the orcs from a demon worshipper conspiracy!!
The news hit while sorting his conflicted feelings in a forest respite. As mimicry grew familiar, First One’s Viscount approached upon spotting him and Rami.
He debated confessing, but the viscount’s fat gem silenced his conscience once more.
Resentment toward nobles—from his experiences and father’s words—played a part, but at this point, his mind was set on one thing.
Make a huge score here, then bolt to the kingdom alliance.
Or maybe the East Continent.
Heard spirit users and mages are way rarer there than here.
That house’s trackers had long fallen behind; a simple disguise would let him dodge their influence in the imperial east.
No need to skulk near the western border, ready to flee into orc lands.
Plus, with the real owner earning merits in orc territory, he might return to the empire. Chilling thought, but the fruits before him were too sweet.
One more day—no, two. Milk it dry, then vanish.
Resolved, he humored the approaching nobles when—
—Wait, hold on!!
—No!!
—St-stop!!!
A frantic shout pierced the party’s music-filled hall.
And right after—
BOOM!!
The grand hall’s doors exploded inward with a thunderous roar.
“Kyahh!”
“Wh-what’s that!?”
“Guards!! Knights!!”
Screams and shouts erupted as a black-haired, black-eyed youth strode through the shattered entrance.
—Grab him!!
—Intruder!!
—Tiny!? Think before you—!!
Voices trailed behind him.
“Wh-who are you!?”
“State your identity!”
The youth smiled at the two knights blocking him and bowed.
“Ah, you’ve got your hands full. Heard there’s an impostor posing as me.”
“My brother’s got business. Be good.”
A purple-haired woman appeared behind them, daggers at the knights’ throats.
Even more striking was—
“Grrrrrr.”
The enormous silver wolf padding in right behind.
Its gaze locked on Rami in the garden.
“Oh ho. Not a wolf—a lion? Shapeshifting, huh. Figures. So the master is…”
The moment the man’s eyes fixed on him, Raphtan grasped the situation crystal clear.
Fuck. I’m screwed.
In that instant, he slipped into the clustered nobles, swiftly altering his appearance.
“Sir Tiny!?”
The viscount, startled by the intruder, whipped his head around—just as—
Crunch.
“GRRAAAH!”
The smaller wolf clamped onto Rami’s throat in a flash, forcing its reversal.
“Ngh!”
Too late to recall it; the soul-link backlash hit Raphtan hard, and he spewed blood.
Simultaneously, black eyes approached.
“Oh ho. There you are.”
“Hup!”
He reflexively leaped back—but—
“It’s you, alright. Raphtan.”
Crack.
“Gyaaah!”
Indescribable agony shattered his right ankle; freedom lost, his body floated against his will, arcing through the air toward the opposite wall.
As marble floor rushed up, death looming—
“Tiny, don’t kill him…!!”
A desperate cry, then thud—and Raphtan’s consciousness faded swiftly.