A Child's Silent Plea
As expected, the sound of something being sliced and carved apart rang out. Monster screams pierced his eardrums, and the thick, metallic stench of blood washed over him in a heavy wave.
Even so, nothing touched his body. Instead, a weightless hand settled over his head, accompanied by a low, gentle voice.
What followed was an endless cycle of tag and slaughter.
As though he would not tolerate even a single monster, the black-haired, green-eyed man—who shared the same colors as Raven—scoured the area and cut them down without mercy.
Occasionally, the moment he moved a short distance away, hidden monsters would charge at the two seemingly defenseless figures. Each time, the unidentified man would appear like a ghost, butcher the creatures, and vanish again. Not once did a monster get close enough to touch them, let alone splatter blood.
It was literally ghost-like skill.
Dan, who had been watching the entire spectacle in a daze from over Raven's shoulder, finally snapped back to his senses and shuddered violently.
This was no time to be lost in a trance.
“…──!”
“Ah.”
Raven, nearly losing his grip from the sudden thrashing, reflexively tightened his arms around the boy as if to pin him down.
…It seemed the reality of the situation was finally sinking in. The fear was understandable, but if the child broke away here, he would die without question.
“Calm down.”
You wanted to live so badly, yet now you’re trying to die right in front of me?
“Calm down. Do you plan to die here?”
That simply wouldn’t do.
The monsters’ cries scraped viciously at his eardrums. With his vision blocked, his sharpened senses sparked a momentary flash of irritation, but he refused to become a pathetic adult who shouted at a frightened child. After murmuring soothing words several times, Raven finally pressed his lips shut.
‘…Damn it.’
The boy’s refusal to settle down made it clear that other measures were necessary.
He briefly considered striking the back of his neck to knock him unconscious, but quickly decided that using force on someone who had not even reached adulthood was unacceptable.
Of course, it would be simpler to just close his eyes and do it. Yet in a life already worn dull by endless hardship, where his emotions had grown numb and his judgment blunted, he could not cross the bare minimum line he had drawn for himself in order to remain human.
So what choice was there?
‘This is exactly why I dislike children.’
Raven smiled bitterly in self-mockery, adjusted his hold on the boy, and began to comfort him. Surprisingly, he knew exactly what to say to a terrified child in this situation.
These were the words he himself had heard from his Guardian Spirit when he first encountered a true adult and protector in the world as an immature boy. The same words he had later spoken to his first disciple, and then to every disciple who followed.
Filtering out any negative feelings such as bitterness or annoyance, he gathered only the gentlest and warmest emotions and spoke softly. Words he never imagined he would utter again slipped from his lips.
“Shhh—it’s all right.”
You don’t need to be afraid.
“The monsters won’t be able to touch you.”
I will take responsibility for your safety.
“Just close your eyes for a moment. It will be over soon.”
The voice, as though it had collected the purest kindness the world had to offer, made Dan flinch and freeze. The frantic emotions driven by urgency subsided, and his narrowed vision widened once more.
Only then did the boy recall a very simple method to convey his intentions efficiently.
“…Hm?”
As if frustrated, he tugged Raven’s hand downward. Raven obediently offered his palm, then flinched at the cold touch of fingers against it.
For Dan, fear of the monsters had been secondary from the very beginning. What he wanted to convey was not that, but…
— Please help me.
“You…”
Silence fell.
Raven stared at his own palm for a moment before belatedly regaining his composure and finishing the sentence he had left unfinished. His calm voice resonated quietly.
“…You cannot speak.”
And yet you asked for help.
Now that he thought about it, the boy’s desperate state when they first found him… had been far too frantic to be explained merely by the desire to survive the monsters. It was as if he carried some kind of mission…
‘……’
His cloudy grey eyes searched for where the child should be.
…Changed eye color, a person appearing from thin air, that same person wielding a sword that had not been there before and butchering monsters. There were mountains of questions to ask, yet the boy had said nothing about any of them and simply begged for help. That alone revealed how desperate and earnest he was.
“First… what is your name?”
— Dan.
“All right, Dan.”
A rough understanding was beginning to form.
He reached out, feeling through the air until he found the approximate height of the boy’s face, then lowered his hand a little further to locate the neck.
At the touch against his throat, Dan’s body stiffened. At the same time, Raven’s own expression hardened.
…He had hoped it would not be so.
“Wait… just a moment. Shall we open your mouth—try it?”
“……”
“I need to check something.”
As though asking permission, he tapped lightly at the corner of the boy’s lips. After a hesitant pause, Dan seemed to remember his position as someone who needed to beg for aid and opened his mouth. A finger slipped inside.
“As I thought, you…”
“……”
“You’re an escaped slave.”
The bumpy scar around the neck and the severed tongue.
Moreover, the way the child’s entire body had gone rigid the instant a stranger’s hand touched his throat—it was unmistakably born of terror.
‘A slave, huh…’
The familiar word drew a bitter smile from Raven.
No matter how strictly a nation might forbid it, if there were those who desired such things, they would always exist in the shadows. Slavery was exactly like that.
Officially, the only slaves permitted by each country were criminals and nobles from defeated nations, but there was no chance that rule was truly followed.
There were many who wanted slaves, yet the supply was pitifully small.
Blinded by the exorbitant sums offered by those willing to pay extra, slave traders had begun attacking private homes, kidnapping innocent people, and selling them. It was not difficult to guess that the boy before him was one of those victims.
“I heard that useless male slaves of ambiguous age and unremarkable appearance have their tongues and vocal cords destroyed so they can be exploited for labor. Since they cannot write, it’s impossible for them to ask anyone for help…”
At that moment, a hand shot upward and seized his collar.
Taking advantage of Raven’s flinch, something streaked toward his head. He swiftly tilted his head aside, narrowly avoiding the attack, and did not miss the sound of wings brushing past his ear.
“This is…!”
He caught Dan, who was trying to shove him away roughly and retreat. Grabbing the struggling child’s wrist, Raven stepped forward to close the distance. His eyes were slightly widened, as though confronted with an unexpected situation.
Something had flown in threateningly at an eerily perfect moment. From the sound, it seemed to be a bird of no great size, and Dan had moved as though he had anticipated its movements.
Raven knew these traits well.
“A Sculpted Soul Master…?”
“!”
Those whose souls had fractured, with the fragments taking animal form.
The fragment that had “broken off and fallen” was called a Sculpted Soul, while the original body was referred to as a Sculpted Soul Master, or simply “Soul Master.”
Since they had once been a single soul, they shared every sense—sight, hearing, and more. Because they directly manipulated the soul itself, their power was considerable. That was why, during the early days of the Gate incident, nearly all who had risen to prominence had been Sculpted Soul Masters.
Even though he realized his neck could have been snapped or his skull shattered, Raven did not grow angry. Instead, he focused on the other matter.
“I thought they had nearly vanished by now. Meeting one here is rather unexpected.”
In the aftermath of the first Gate outbreak, Sculpted Soul Masters had become symbolic figures.
People treated as heroes by their mere existence. Especially now, when the number of newly born Sculpted Soul Masters continued to dwindle with time, they would be given precious treatment regardless of their soul’s form. Yet such a person had been kept as a slave. It was almost absurd.
“…There’s no need to be so wary.”
He held no fond feelings toward Sculpted Soul Masters, but he was not so rotten as to mistreat a child.
Thud! He swatted the bird that charged again and pinned it to the ground as easily as catching a fly. Swallowing a sigh, Raven patted the frozen boy’s back.
“At least it’s fortunate you know how to write. You were hiding both the fact that you can write and that you’re a Sculpted Soul Master, weren’t you?”
“……”
If they had known you could write, you would not be standing alive before me like this.
An escaped slave became a blade to capture illegal slave traders. There was no way they would leave a witness capable of testifying against them with both hands intact.
…Yet there was no response. He tilted his head.
“Ah, the fact that you’re a slave won’t change how I treat you, so don’t worry about that. From the beginning, I have no interest in anyone’s status.”
“……”
“……”
Still no reaction. Was he still on guard?
Well, letting one’s guard down in this situation would itself be foolish. He had chosen the wrong approach. This was not about easing the boy’s wariness first, but…
“…Come to think of it, you did ask for help, didn’t you?”
Only then did Dan’s head lift. Raven, who had been observing him with every sense sharpened, curved his eyes toward where the boy’s face would be and raised both hands as though he had been waiting for this.
The crow that had been pinned to the floor soared into the sky, freed.
“I’ll help you.”
“…!”
He had already assessed the situation long ago.
Dan’s desperate footsteps had not been aimed at any particular destination; they had been a search for someone to ask for help. A request from an escaped slave could mean a plea to be hidden, a request to rescue a precious person still enslaved in that place, or aid for a fellow escapee whose condition had worsened.
Whichever it was, it did not matter.
“So let’s have a proper conversation.”
“……”
“Hm?”
I am weak toward children who have not yet fully grown, and weak toward victims of the Gates. The moment this boy asked for help, the answer had already been decided.
After a moment’s hesitation, Dan slowly nodded. As though the tension had finally drained from him, fingers traced across Raven’s palm while he let out a quiet sigh.
— What is your name?
“I have no name. Call me Raven. I already know yours, so we can skip that. How old are you?”
At a glance, he seemed to have only recently shed the last traces of boyhood. The feel of his frame when touched had been immature as well.
Raven lifted his free hand and gently felt the boy’s face.
“Roughly seventeen? Eighteen? Around that age, I’d say.”
— 17.
“As I thought.”
He really is young.
‘A young Sculpted Soul Master…’
It had been a very long time since he had seen one. Ah, having been in hiding for ten years, it was not merely a feeling—it truly had been a long time.
It was an age when anyone possessing something special that set them apart from others would want to show it off and boast, yet the boy had managed to hide it all this time. That was genuinely impressive.
The hand that had been exploring his face moved upward and lightly pressed the boy’s head.
“…?”
“You did well despite being so young. You’ve suffered greatly.”
Not only the ability to write, but especially the fact that he was a Sculpted Soul Master—if that had been discovered, he would not have met a good end.
Because of the Sculpted Soul Master’s trait that if one died, the other followed, simply attaching a bomb to the soul fragment would render them completely helpless. It would be no different from offering their own heart to their captors.
‘That is why, in the past, there was a perception that Sculpted Soul Masters made ideal slaves.’
Well, it was a past that no one remembered anymore.
‘Since the soul takes the form of a bird, it must have been easier to conceal.’
It would have been fairly advantageous for escape as well.
If anything, perhaps he had been lucky. Unless it took the form of a truly powerful beast, a very small or common animal was preferable.
It had seemed about the size of an ordinary bird. Barring attacks from particularly fierce natural predators, there would not be much to worry about in daily life.
‘…I heard someone struggled terribly because their sculpted soul was a white arctic fox.’
It was too weak to use in battle, could not be sent to infiltrate anywhere, and if kept nearby it drew attention, effectively broadcasting their weakness to the world.
How envious. Raven thought idly, then suddenly stiffened as a considerable pain flared inside him.
…The pain itself was not the problem. The greater issue was the hot liquid trying to surge upward along with it.
Most likely a fishy liquid tinged with red.