His senses were leaden.
It felt as if he were no longer himself; the world shifted before his eyes, moving independently of his will. Before he knew it, Ren was watching his own back. Like a shadow, he trailed a fixed distance behind another version of himself.
The village was burning.
Unlike the current Ren, the boy in the vision was dazed, carrying only two Little Boars as he trudged along the path through the fields. The knights walking beside him were silent, stripped of words by the devastation.
"Mother...?"
Suddenly, the boy threw the Little Boars aside and bolted. The knights followed suit, their armor clanking as the group rushed toward the Ashton Manor.
When they arrived, they found the building engulfed in a ferocious blaze.
"No... no way..."
Ren watched his other self drop to his knees, his strength deserting him. Yet, despite his trembling limbs, the boy crawled toward the inferno. His mother was in there. He couldn't think; he only prayed to hear her voice one more time.
But he was intercepted. A knight caught him in a desperate hold, pinning his arms to his sides.
"You mustn't!"
"Let me go! Mother is—!"
"No! If you dive into those flames, you'll die too, Master Ren!"
Ren continued to struggle, but his resistance was pathetic. It was a display of weakness so profound he could hardly believe the boy was him.
"I promised my father! I promised I’d protect her... so...!"
On the edge of the boy's vision, Ren spotted something: a simple Stone Grave Marker. It was a cold, unfamiliar sight that sent a shiver down his spine.
Then, a voice cut through the roar of the fire.
"Step back! Move, quickly!"
The sound of hoofbeats thundered from behind, accompanied by a girl's command. As both Rens turned toward the voice, a dazzling radiance enveloped everything.
Immediately after, the scene shifted.
Once again, Ren watched his other self from behind. The sky was painted in the hues of dusk. Standing on the plains at the outskirts of the village, the boy loomed over a long, grim row of linen shrouds.
"Master Ren. Regarding Granny Rigu..."
"I know. I’ve already braced myself."
The boy answered without turning, his shoulders quivering. The knight bowed his head and retreated into the shadows. In his place, Weiss appeared, his armor blackened by soot.
"Boy."
Weiss pulled the dazed Ren into a powerful, crushing embrace. Before long, the old knight’s cheeks were wet with tears. He held him for a long time, whispering apologies over and over.
"I am so sorry. If only we had arrived sooner."
"It’s all right. This happened because I was weak."
"But...!"
"No... it was the same with Father. On the night he died, I should have found the courage to pick the Rondo Grass. If I had, he wouldn’t have died, and maybe we could have fought off the bandits today."
"That isn't true! This is our failure!"
"The knights... some of them fought until they lost their limbs. We only managed to slay the Thief Wolfen because of them."
The boy insisted it wasn't their responsibility.
"Besides, you saved my mother. And you wiped out the bandits, Lord Weiss."
"No... I let one escape. Forgive me. If only I had been faster."
"Please, stop. If I let you apologize, Lord Weiss, my father will be angry with me from the grave."
The boy paused, then continued.
"That person from before... she was the young lady, wasn't she? It was the first time I'd seen her."
"Yes. Her Heart was pained by the Thief Wolfen incident last winter. She came to this village as the Baron's representative..."
"Saints are incredible. To be able to blow away the flames of the manor like that."
"............Yes."
"She saved my mother. I could never... I could never resent any of you."
His strength finally spent, the boy collapsed onto the grass. He hugged his knees, burying his face in front of the human-sized sacks lined up on the plain. After a long silence, he simply stopped thinking.
What would he do now? He couldn't live here anymore. Most of the houses were ash, and the food stores were gone. Anxiety began to gnaw at his heart.
"Mind if I sit with you?"
It was the girl—Licia. Ren looked up to see her standing there, her fingertips wrapped in bandages and scratches marking her cheeks.
"I’ve treated your mother as much as I can. The other villagers, too... as many as possible."
Disregarding her noble status, Licia had worked herself to exhaustion to save the commoners.
"Thank you. Um—"
"But she needs more care before she'll wake up. I’m going to escort the survivors back to my town."
Licia looked Ren in the eye. She explained that the bandits were likely agents of the Hero Faction or the Imperial Faction. The House of Clausel had been ensnared in a factional conflict, and those seeking to expand their influence had likely ordered the village's destruction as a show of force.
Their arrival had been a fluke—a stroke of pure luck. Without that coincidence, Ren would have lost his mother as well. Despite this, Licia and Weiss took the full weight of the blame upon themselves. Licia swore she would do anything to make amends.
"To be honest, I don't know what to do," the boy whispered. "I don't have the energy to hate you. My mind is full of my mother and the village."
Licia nodded solemnly.
"But my father always said... that we are knights serving the House of Clausel, and we protect this village with our lives. So resenting you would be wrong. I just... I can't think..."
Tears finally spilled from the boy's eyes. The dam he had built around his emotions finally broke, and Licia gently pulled him into her arms.
Was that a dream?
Ren opened his eyes, his mind still heavy with sleep.
Was that the Ren and the Saint from the game's original timeline?
The thought crossed his mind that he had been shown a world he was never supposed to know. But he couldn't be sure. And if that really was the "true" history, why was he seeing it now?
Besides, the vision didn't align with the game's lore of Ren eventually murdering the Saint. If he had felt a deep-seated hatred for the House of Clausel, he could understand a revenge plot, but the boy in the vision felt no such thing. Perhaps he changed later, but it seemed unlikely.
He shook the thoughts away. He needed to focus on the present.
The first thing he noticed was the smell of mold mixed with damp wood. Then came the rhythmic, unpleasant swaying of a carriage and the creaking of timber. He heard the clatter of wheels over uneven ground.
Peering through half-lidded eyes, he realized he was lying in a cramped space that felt like an old shed. Light filtered through the cracks in the wooden walls, telling him it was daytime.
He heard pained, shallow breathing beside him. It was only then he realized his hands and feet were bound. He turned his head and finally grasped the reality of his situation.
"My lady...!"
He had no memory of anything after the Beastmaster put him to sleep. They were being transported.
"Haa... haa..."
"My lady, it's me! Ren Ashton!"
"Ngh... ah..."
Licia didn't respond. She could only gasp for air, large beads of sweat rolling down her flushed cheeks.
"Hoh. Awake already? I'm impressed."
A voice drifted in from outside—the cold, arrogant voice of the Beastmaster.
"You slept well. Four days is more than enough rest."
Four days?
If they had been traveling that long, they were likely far beyond the borders of the Clausel territory.
"Ren Ashton. If you stay quiet, you'll remain unharmed. Don't try anything stupid and just endure this for a few more days."
"Then what about... this girl?"
"Heh. You're sharp. Catching yourself like that just to hide her identity, as if I didn't know she was Licia Clausel."
Ren scowled. His attempt at discretion had been useless.
"Answer me. Will she be safe too?"
"Of course. Though, would you even believe me if I said yes?"
"............"
"Rest easy. I make it a point never to lie," the Beastmaster chuckled. "However, I didn't count on her being bedridden. If I find a village with medicine, I'll see to it she gets some."
Licia’s fever wasn't inherently fatal, but complications could kill her. Weiss had warned him about that. Looking at her now, she looked much worse than she had at the manor.
They were trapped in a moldy, lightless box. It was the worst possible environment for someone in her condition. She needed proper care and medicine immediately.
"I've been keeping you both alive with Potions, you know. I'd almost expect a 'thank you' for the trouble."
"You... how dare you..."
Licia’s labored breathing cut through Ren's rising anger. For her sake, he couldn't just sit here. He couldn't trust the word of a man who had slaughtered knights and burned his home.
He had to escape. If he didn't get her away from this man and find medicine, she was going to die.
The problem was that Ren had never left his village. If they were four days away by carriage, he had no idea where they were. He had no map, no sense of the land. They might just end up dying in the wilderness.
But even so...
I can't just abandon her.
The Beastmaster had essentially promised him safety if he stayed obedient, but he refused the offer. Even if saving her meant deviating from the "legend" he was supposed to follow, he knew he would regret it forever if he let her die here.
The sword is gone.
The Beastmaster must have confiscated the one he had summoned at the manor. But it didn't matter. He could just summon it again.
"That's it. Just stay quiet."
"Don't talk to me. Your voice makes me sick."
"Kuhaha! My apologies, then."
Ren decided against an immediate move. He would wait for nightfall, when the Beastmaster would likely be asleep. He had to maximize his chances; a failure wouldn't just mean his death, but Licia's as well.
Running into the unknown at night... I’m an idiot.
But it was his only play. He thought about screaming for help if they passed a town, but there was no guarantee anyone would step in against a man with summoned monsters. He could only rely on himself.
Hours passed until the light through the cracks vanished.
When night finally fell, the carriage came to a halt.
"By the way," Ren called out, "what if I just screamed for help?"
"It would be a waste of breath. I've installed a Magic Tool; no sound from the inside reaches the outside world unless I want it to."
How convenient, Ren thought with a bitter sigh.
Licia’s breathing was getting worse, the rasps becoming more frequent in the chill of the night. If he didn't move now, this would end in a tragedy.
"Keep the carriage moving."
"It’s night. We sleep. I'll look for a village tomorrow."
The carriage swayed as the Beastmaster stood up from the driver's seat. He walked to the side, unlocked the heavy door, and tossed something inside.
It was dried meat, hard bread, and a leather waterskin.
"Feed your precious lady, too."
The door slammed shut and the lock clicked.
Ren crawled across the floor and managed to open the waterskin. Holding it between his teeth, he tilted it over Licia's lips, letting the water trickle down. She swallowed weakly.
He then soaked a piece of bread to soften it. "I’m sorry," he whispered as he gently pressed the moistened bread into her mouth. She managed to chew a few bites despite her delirium.
She won't last another few days. Neither will I.
"Tonight," he resolved. "I can't wait anymore."
Once the decision was made, a strange calm washed over him. He wasn't paralyzed by fear; he was focused.
Eventually, the faint, rhythmic snoring of the Beastmaster drifted through the walls. Outside, he could hear the heavy, wet breathing of the Mana Eaters.
I have to do this.
He wasn't going to fight. His only goal was to get Licia away. With D-rank monsters on guard, a head-on confrontation was suicide.
"My lady... will you trust me with your life?"
He whispered the words into the dark. For a fleeting second, he thought he saw the corner of her mouth twitch.
Ren took a long, slow breath. His heart was hammering against his ribs, a frantic rhythm he hadn't noticed until the silence took hold.
Don't you dare freeze up now, Ren!
"Go," he breathed, his voice softer than the wind.
He re-summoned the Iron Magic Sword.
The heavy blade materialized and thudded onto the floorboards. Ren maneuvered his bound wrists against the edge. The restraints were made of heavy iron chain, but the Magic Sword sliced through the metal links as if they were made of silk.
Working quickly, he cut the chains from his ankles, then turned to the shackles binding Licia.