thief of fate-Chapter 39: Just a walk

"Fuck my life, fuck my luck, fuck this walking arrogance I call my master!"

Thomas said as he exhaled sharply, panting from exhaustion, his shoulders nearly exploding from the weight of the bags he carried. Sweat dripped from his forehead into his eyes, mixing with tears he no longer cared to hide. He had long passed the stage of being ashamed to cry he had crossed the boundary of composure the moment he became the personal servant of him.

The forest stretched endlessly. Its trees were dense, their leaves dark as if they were oozing hatred. The air smelled of humidity, moss, and fresh blood. Strange sounds echoed between the trees screeches, beasts, and a faint roar foretelling death. Everything screamed: "Run." But Thomas knew there was no escape... because he followed Raine Lockard.

"Oh, only five? How disappointing."

The voice came from ahead clear, cold. He stood in the center of a small clearing among the trees, surrounded by five Ramwak creatures. Medium-sized beasts with bluish-green skin, long fangs, and a silent, malicious way of moving. They attacked as one.

But Raine? He was smiling.

"You don’t even deserve 10% of my power."

He took a step forward, and in a flash, he moved like a silver streak. His sword, Valentir, cut through the air. In three steps and five breaths, the Ramwaks fell, writhing on the ground, headless or with severed limbs, until they stopped moving altogether.

"Five Ramwaks. Too easy. Like trimming the palace garden," Raine muttered, flicking the blood off his sword with an elegant gesture. "I wonder how this world still manages to entertain me."

Behind him, Thomas dragged his feet with difficulty, hauling bags full of tools, food, bizarre books on history and chemical analysis, and a pile of metal flasks Raine had requested "because he liked their shape."

"He’s training... and I’m disintegrating," Thomas thought.

A rustle to his left made him flinch. "No no no... not now, not when I can barely breathe!"

But the beast emerged. It wasn’t a Ramwak. It was something else... an Arkathor. A creature resembling a giant wolf with burnt leather wings and three amber-glowing eyes. It roared with a terrifying sound, like a thousand bones breaking at once.

Thomas, naturally, fell to the ground.

"RAAAAAAAAAINE!!"

The response came as a soft chuckle, then calm footsteps.

"Thomas... tell me, how many times have I told you not to stand on the edge when you smell beasts? Don’t you have a brain? Or did you lose it along with your dignity?"

Thomas screamed, "My dignity died the first day I became your servant!"

But Raine wasn’t listening. He had already begun moving. His steps were confident. He sighed lightly, as if fighting supernatural creatures was just a waste of time.

"Arkathor, how long has it been since I last saw one of you? You’re smarter than Ramwaks at least. Come, let me show you the meaning of my sword."

Seconds passed. Then two minutes. Thomas still lay on the ground, eyes shut.

Then he opened them cautiously.

He saw the Arkathor collapsing, Raine’s sword piercing directly through its skull. Raine’s expression was calm, not one of victory, but of disappointment.

"I thought it would at least block the second strike."

"You’re insane..." Thomas muttered.

"Insane with brilliance, yes, I know."

Raine walked away, heading toward a massive tree, beginning to gather some strange herbs.

"Collect the purple leaves on the other side. Hurry, before they spoil."

"I’m... I’m carrying twenty kilograms of bags and I don’t even know what the purple leaf looks like!"

"Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Thomas. You scream more than the Arkathor I just killed."

As he stumbled toward the other side, Thomas sank into his thoughts.

"Why me? Why did I choose to be a servant? I could’ve worked in a kitchen, or as a gate guard. Even an honorary thief would’ve been kinder. But no, I had to become the servant of the most arrogant noble alive."

"I’m not living... I’m slowly dissolving. Every day, I melt from the inside. He asks the impossible from me as if I were a machine. No feelings, no rest, no gratitude. Even when I save his life, he says, ’You were a little late, but it’s fine...’ then returns to his nonsense like I’m a ghost."

Thomas sat on a rock, burying his face in his hands, unable to hold back anymore. His tears burst in silence, choked by the trees around him as if the forest itself pitied him.

"I’m not weak... just tired. So very tired."

Then came the voice again, like a bad tune on a broken string:

"Oh, Thomas... are you crying?"

He lifted his head, and there stood Raine behind him, wearing a mocking smile, his tone indifferent.

"Crying because you’re tired? Want a piece of candy? Or should I let you nap on my shoulder?"

"Shut up... just... shut up."

Raine raised an eyebrow, then sat beside him in a way that didn’t suit him.

"You know, Thomas? I’m not forcing you to stay."

Thomas stared at him, stunned. "What?"

"You heard me. You can leave now, return to the palace, or go wherever you want. No one binds you to me... except your loyalty. And your foolishness."

"You... bastard."

"I know."

Raine stood, looking down at him, his eyes a strange mix of amusement and seriousness.

"But you’re my servant. And I may not admit it, but you’re useful... in your funny little way. Keep crying if you want. But after that, get up, carry the bags, and keep walking. The world doesn’t wait for the weak, Thomas. And I don’t have time to console them."

He turned to leave.

But before he completely walked away, he paused.

"I’ve killed 12 Ramwaks, 3 Arkathors, and one Gravice so far. I wonder... how many more must I kill to feel as exhausted as you?"

Thomas remained seated, staring at the ground. Then he laughed.

A trembling, sorrowful laugh... but a real one.

"The audacity..."

He stood up, groaning from his back pain, and began to gather himself. "I don’t know why I continue... but I do. Maybe because I’m afraid, maybe because I’m used to it... or maybe because, in some way, I don’t want him to survive alone."

And as he lifted the bags again, he muttered:

"When that bastard falls... I’ll be there. I’ll see it with my own eyes. And maybe... just maybe... I’ll forgive him."

But even his short moment without suffering didn’t last.

"I don’t want to die... I don’t want to die here..."

He whispered to himself, panting again, walking behind Raine with his back becoming a map of continuous pain. The forest grew darker, the air heavier with the scent of ash and blood. The birds were silent. The trees were silent. Even the wind had stopped, as if something... was moving.

Raine suddenly stopped, tilting his head slightly.

"Huh..." he muttered as he stared into the distant trees.

"Raine?" Thomas said with a trembling voice. "What is it? I don’t like that stance... looks like someone about to kill me to test a new move."

"Thanks for the idea, I’ll consider it later." Raine replied coldly, then raised his hand and pointed forward. "It’s here."

Thomas swallowed hard. "W-Who is?"

The roar came.

A sound unlike anything he had ever heard. It resembled bombs, earthquakes, echoing through the air in a pressure wave that nearly knocked Thomas down.

Then, from between the trees...

A beast... no. Not a beast. A thing.

Its height was close to four meters, its skin black as the night, cracked along its length as if fire pulsed within it. Its three eyes glowed with deep crimson, and its limbs ended in claws that looked like they could slice through reality itself. It was known as "Zarkolin," one of the rare-ranked beasts. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"Th... this is a joke, right?" Thomas stepped back once, then twice, then a third time. "Tell me you put it here to scare me! Like the time you put a rat in my bed and said it was a baby werewolf!"

But Raine? He was smiling.

A cold smile... then, slowly, it widened into a demonic grin.

"Finally... something worth playing with."

Then he raised his right hand, and in a deep voice, uttered words in an unknown language:

"Ek’ran Val Karsa... Dragon’s Flame."

In an instant, the world changed.

The ground beneath his feet exploded, and pillars of dark blue flame surged upward, twisting like the mouths of savage dragons. Trees collapsed, the soil evaporated, and the sky itself turned red. Waves of fire flooded the area like a tidal wave, burning everything in their path. The fire engulfed the forest within fifty meters, then a hundred... then more.

Zarkolin, the mighty beast, roared as it charged toward Raine, but the flames got there first.

They consumed him... completely. His skin melted, his bones evaporated, and his final sound was an inhuman scream that faded into the blazing inferno.

Thomas fell to the ground, hiding behind a scorched rock, his arm over his face, screaming: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU MANIAC?! YOU’LL BURN DOWN THE WHOLE FOREST!!"

Then... everything fell silent.

Raine stood amidst the destruction, dust swirling around him, the fire slowly receding as if obeying him. He remained still, watching the drifting ashes, the fire reflected in his eyes.

Then he sighed.

"Hmm... boring."

He turned slowly and began walking toward Thomas as if nothing had happened, brushing ash off his cloak with a tired breath.

"That’s it? I expected something bigger."

Thomas was still sitting, stunned, his eyes locked on the place where Zarkolin once stood, now nothing but a pit of fire.

"You... you’re a walking hell. Literally. We are in hell. Is this what firewood feels like?"

"Don’t exaggerate," Raine replied as he passed by, then added coldly, "I’m tired. Let’s go back to the manor."

"Finally!" Thomas shouted, but his joy lasted only a moment.

"And since you’re not doing anything useful here, prepare a bath for me at the temperature of Zarkolin’s blood. And don’t forget to bring me a glass of cherry juice, poured from a height of three arms, and stirred with the Earth’s rotation, to preserve its flavor."

Thomas froze. Then tilted his head to the side. Then...

"What?!"

Raine didn’t answer, simply waved his hand and began walking slowly.

"And don’t forget to organize my books by the number of letters in the titles, ascending, then descending, alternately."

"..."

"And by the way, bring me a flower that only grows in the middle of winter, on top of a mountain where an ancient dragon sleeps. I want to place it in my room; it would look amazing next to the monster skulls."

"Damn my life!!!" Thomas screamed, kicking a rock.

Then he started muttering:

"I’m a servant... just a servant... why do I need survival skills in hell? Why? This isn’t training, this is my personal hell. I’m not serving a lord, I’m serving a nightmare with a pretty face."

"Oh, and I want you to write me a report about your feelings while witnessing hell with your own eyes. I think it’d be fun to read."

"Great! Just great! Write about my suffering? What’s next? Do you want me to publish a novel titled How to Survive Working for a Noble Demon?"

Raine stopped and looked back for a moment, his eyes gleaming.

"Good idea. Start with Chapter one: ’When Raine ordered me to fetch dragon fire with a wooden spoon.’"

Thomas screamed to the sky: "God, take me now!!"