-----Narrator POV-----
The captain planted his boots firmly in the mud and raised his arm, his voice carrying across the soaked clearing as the knights tightened their grip around the sunken holy carriage. Their armor was smeared with dirt, their gauntlets slipping slightly as they braced themselves for the lift. The horses at the front snorted impatiently, their reins pulled tight by the knight holding them steady.
"On my count. Ready?" The captain's voice rolled through the cold air, and the knights leaned in, preparing their bodies for the strain.
"One."
"Two."
"THREE-MHMMM!" The captain's voice strained as he pushed forward with them, and the knights responded instantly, the frame groaned under the pressure, the holy insignia smeared brown from the struggle.
"MHNN… ROBERT!"
"YES SIR!"
Whip!
The horses muscles tightening as they pushed forward with renewed force as the wheel tore free from the mud with a loud suction pop, sending a spray of wet earth across their legs.
The carriage lurched forward and rolled onto solid dirt, its frame dripping with mud but finally stable. The holy emblem on its side caught a faint glimmer of light through the overcast sky as the knights staggered back, some dropping to one knee while others wiped sludge from their gauntlets.
"Well done, men." The captain's voice carried across the clearing, steady and relieved as the knights straightened their backs.
"HooHa!"
"We will be camping here tonight, so take it easy, my knights." The captain stepped away from the carriage, his boots sinking slightly into the softened dirt.
"Thank you, sir." Several knights answered at once, their voices fading into tired sighs as they dispersed from the carriage. Some dropped their packs beside the nearest dry patch of ground, others brushed mud from their greaves while the horses settled with slow, heavy breaths.
The helmetless captain, his sweep of blond hair streaked with mud and clinging to the side of his face, reached into the inner pocket of his coat. His fingers closed around a small circular object, cool and metallic, fitting neatly into the palm of his hand. He lifted it just enough for the dim light to catch its polished rim.
The surface opened with a soft click, revealing a set of thin black pointers arranged over a ring of faint markings. The pointers shifted with a subtle ticking motion, each one aligning toward a different direction as if responding to something beyond the clearing. The captain studied the movement carefully, his eyes following the slow rotation of the longest pointer as it settled toward the treeline.
"Cap, may I ask a question—oh? What are you looking at?" The rookie's voice came from behind him, and the young knight leaned in without hesitation, peeking over the captain's shoulder to get a better look at the small object in his hand.
The captain's pale, not‑so‑orderly face shifted slightly as he raised an eyebrow. He gave the rookie a slow side‑eye, and the rookie responded with a clueless stare, his mouth half open as he tried to understand what he was seeing.
The captain let out a tired sigh. "This is an artifact. The church recently discovered it, and I was placed in charge of researching its usefulness."
"Oh! An artifact!" The rookie's eyes widened instantly, his excitement bubbling up as he leaned even closer. "I've heard artifacts can change people's appearances or create gold out of thin air. Does this peculiar object do something incredible?"
The captain shifted his gaze toward the small circular device resting in his palm. Its polished lid reflected the campfire's faint glow, and inside, a set of thin black pointers moved with a quiet ticking rhythm.
"No. Nothing that grandiose."
"Eh… that's lame."
The captain closed the object with a soft click and lowered his hand.
"Voice your concern, rookie."
The rookie straightened his posture immediately, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone.
"Cap, I was wondering… as our journey delays. The compass we received from the church to track down the saint has stopped a while ago. Shouldn't we stop our search?"
The captain's eyes narrowed slightly. "We've talked about this before, rookie. Have you not been paying attention to the meetings?"
"Eh— I was. I was just… checking. Yes. Checking in with you about our next steps." The rookie forced a smile, but a drop of sweat slid down the side of his face, betraying him.
"... Sigh... Our priest received a revelation from Saint Milis that the boy is still alive."
"But sir, with all due respect, without a compass, searching for an unidentified boy throughout the continents is like searching for a grain of rice in a desert."
"I understand the prickle we are in. However, we cannot turn back empty‑handed, especially after that revelation. Besides, we have a good idea where we can locate the boy."
"We do?"
"Yes. The compass has pointed constantly east‑north throughout our travels in the Milis continent. Which means we can conclude that the boy's origins are not located in the Begaritt, Heaven, or Demon continent."
"So he is located in the north side of the Central Continent?" The rookie's voice rose slightly as he tried to follow the logic. "That's still a lot of land to cover since we don't know at which place he is located."
"We do know the general area where he is located."
"Oh really? How?"
"Surprisingly, there are rules and logic behind a saint's awakening. The Church has figured out that only seven saints can appear throughout the five continents. And in these five continents, the Central Continent has already awakened two out of its maximum three. Once a saint has awakened, another saint cannot be awakened in the same place."
"Oh. So that means the saint has awakened somewhere different from where the previous saints appeared?"
"Correct, knight. Ten years ago, a saint from the northern frozen lands awakened. Five years ago, another saint awakened in the country of Asura. Therefore, we can narrow our search to the strife zone and the smaller kingdoms of the Central Continent."
The rookie's shoulders slumped slightly. "We don't need to cover the entire continent anymore, but we still need to cover a lot of ground, sir."
"Yes, I'm aware." The captain's tone remained calm, almost patient. "That is why we brought a priest with us. A priest can identify the intensity levels of divinity in a region. And as you might have guessed, a saint needs high levels of concentrated divinity before being awakened. This makes our search faster when traveling through these kingdoms."
The rookie blinked, processing the information. "But this method only works if we assume the saint does not move away from his awakened place."
The captain's lips curled slightly, not quite a smile but close. "You are finally using your head for once. That is why I shifted our schedules to quicken our pace. So go enjoy this long break before we embark on this hellish search embargo."
The rookie let out a long, defeated sigh. "We have a lot of work ahead of us."
---
"The consequences… is that you lose a part of yourself."
The frog's words echoed through the empty cavern. Only a single torch lit the wet stone walls, its flickering flames casting uneven shadows that stretched and shrank with every movement. The number‑one adventurer party of the Central Continent stood frozen, stunned by the weight of what the frog had revealed.
"I ask everyone not to use mana or touki for the moment-"
"Frug, care to explain—"
"WHAT DOES THIS MEAN!"
The dwarf cut him off, his voice booming through the cavern. His stocky frame leaned forward aggressively, thick arms tense and ready to swing. His beard bristled as if every strand stood on end, and the veins along his neck pressed visibly against his skin.
Frug shifted his eyes toward the dwarf, unfazed by the visible rage.
"I am not quite sure," the frog said, his voice calm despite the tension. "I've seen cases where people simply lose their memories. But I've also seen sudden changes in behavior… erratic ones. Just like yours, Thorkell."
The dwarf's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding audibly as the torchlight flickered across his furious expression.
"My behavior… you say? Isn't that obvious? Look at the shithole we are in!"
Thorkell's roar filled the cavern, bouncing off the wet stone walls. He stomped forward with heavy steps, each one splashing water across the uneven ground.
Agnar stepped in quickly and caught him by the arms, stopping his advance before he reached Frug.
"Thorkell… I understand how confusing this situation is, and I understand your frustration. But what Frug said has some logic behind it. You are not acting like your usual self."
Thorkell wrestled against Agnar's grip, his muscles bulging as he tried to break free.
"I am not acting like myself? Agnar, do you not realize what that slimy bastard just said? He forced a curse down our throats, and now he is saying we would be losing ourselves?"
With a sudden shove, Thorkell broke free from Agnar's hold and took a step back, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
"I will be damned that instead of dying as Thorkell the Stormledge on the battlefield, I was forced to live as some sort of former shell of that warrior."
The dwarf's glare sharpened even further cutting straight through the beastfolk.
"That is glory. Isn't that what you've sought all this time, Agnar?"
Agnar's brows tightened, the muscles around his eyes pulling inward as his fingers curled slowly into a fist.
Seeing the shift, Geese stepped forward and interrupted before the situation could explode.
"My my, guys... W-We haven't heard all the explanation! Let's not jump into conclusions..."
A drop of sweat ran down Geese's forehead as he glanced toward the priest sitting up against the cavern wall. The priest's eyes met his for a moment, a silent plea for help slipping through the dim torchlight.
"… Back when I was still a battle‑priest apprentice trained by the Saint Milis Church, I would sneak around their archives and read all the restricted access content. And there was one book that piqued my interest above the rest… and that was the Church's research about a hero's resurrection."
The dwarf and the beastfolk shifted their stances, their anger cooling just enough for them to listen.
"Throughout the Demon–Human War, humans were losing a lot of ground against the demon immortality clans. That was when the Milis Church took the initiative to summon a hero who could overpower their vitality."
Thorkell scoffed loudly, his beard shaking with the motion. "Do you live under a rock, priest? Everyone knows that Hero Asura was summoned and defeated the ten immortality demon clans through his power alone."
The priest lowered his gaze for a moment, then lifted it again with a steady breath. "… Only a few people know that it wasn't through his power alone. It has been documented through multiple of witness that the great Hero Asura was slain in the midst of battles multiple times."
"..."
"The Hero Asura was only human. His greatest weakness was time. The demonfolk quickly realized that so they shifted their war tactics toward prolonged attrition. They understood that if they could force him into repeated battles, his body would eventually fail..."
"..."
"Of course, the Church could not allow the demons to drag the fight for long. So, with the collaboration of the frogfolk, they were able to bind the soul of the hero with Saint Milis's divinity power."
"..."
"So whenever Asura's mortal body perished on the battlefield, the Milis Church would revive him through sacrificial vessels and send him back to the frontlines."
"!!!"
"Wait, you drunk priest… does this mean the Milis Church sacrificed people so the Hero Asura would revive in their bodies instead?"
"I did not believe it myself… not until I saw it with my own eyes. Fifteen years ago, a saint awakened in the country of Asura. He was sold by his family to the Milis Church to receive proper training and teaching. But that was all a pretense..."
"..."
"We battle‑priests were sent along with the hero candidate on an expedition to the Great Forest. There was a small conflict between the long‑eared race and human settlements near their territory. During the confrontation, an arrow pierced the hero candidate's head. Instant death."
"..."
"Our supervisor was one step away from being demoted. Losing a hero candidate would have destroyed his standing entirely. So he gathered us battle‑priests and forced us to perform a ritual with the boy placed in the center."
The priest's hands trembled slightly as he remembered.
"In the next moment… the saint's body began morphing before our very eyes. Bones shifting, skin stretching, features rearranging. And when it ended… he looked exactly like the hero candidate."
Both Thorkell and Agnar's eyes widened.
The priest turned his head toward the frog with a deep frown, his hands trembling as he raised them toward his face.
"Frug… when you mentioned that we might lose our memories or lose a part of ourselves… is that because we are not in our original bodies… but in someone else's?"
The words hung in the cavern like a blade suspended above their necks. The torch flame wavered, stretching shadows across the wet stone walls as each member of the party slowly looked down at their own bodies. Hands traced over arms, shoulders, faces, searching for unfamiliar traits.
Croak.
"You are correct, priest. These are not our bodies that we were born with."
"!!!"
Agnar staggered backward as he grabbed the cavern wall for support, his breath turning shallow. Thorkell's face twisted into a grotesque mix of rage and horror before he suddenly lurched forward, dropping to his hands and knees as he vomited onto the stone floor.
Frug watched them all without changing his expression as he continued.
"However, I must correct you that my resurrection and Milis's are fundamentally different. The Church uses holy energy while I use curse energy. To use simpler words, the Church's resurrection completely wipes out the vessel's impurities, while mine simply overwrites the vessel's information."
Geese stared at him, his expression tightening with a mix of worry and fear. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and his eyes flicked between the frog and the rest of the party.
"What in the world…" Geese muttered, his voice trembling slightly. "It is hardly believable that they resurrected… but now that they are in someone else's bodies while looking the same…" He took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. "But Frug… what I don't understand… how were you able to attain these vessels—no… I mean people?"
The frog gave Geese a cold and piercing gaze.
"I kidnapped them."
Geese stumbled back, nearly losing his footing on the slick stone floor.
"You… what…"
"I predicted that fighting a hydra could lead to unfavorable conditions, So I prepared insurance in advance."
"..."
"I prepared five bodies, to be exact. Fortunate or misfortunate to this boy… he used Geese's double. So I ask everyone to avoid using any mana or touki for the time being, so your new bodies do not reject you and you don't end up with a compulsory dysfunction."
A shiver crawled down Geese's spine. His eyes darted back and forth between the frog and the unconscious boy lying beside him. He then turned around only to watch his party members sinking into a state of hollow despair.
"Guys… L-let's focus in getting out of this cavern! W-we can talk this through once we reach the surface-"
"Fuck that."
Every head snapped toward the dwarf as he rose from the ground. A sinister aura wrapped around him, thick and suffocating, making the torchlight bend and flicker as if reacting to his rage.
"I am killing that bastard."
"T‑Thorkell… let's calm down…"
The frog stood up promptly, his tall figure stretching to nearly seven feet. His shadow loomed across the cavern wall as he looked down at the dwarf, who barely reached four feet but walked toward him with clenched fists and a glare sharp enough to cut through stone.
"I don't understand, dwarf… you are alive because of me."
"Alive at a person's life expense."
"No. The life of that body was already decided to be executed under the laws of the society they lived in."
"Excuse me?"
"In simpler words, they were death‑row criminals. I figured their lives could be used for our purposes."
The frog tilted his head slightly, his expression unchanged, his eyes half‑lidded as if the conversation bored him.
"Is that bloodlust I am sensing, beastfolk?"
Agnar's jaw tightened as his brows pulling inward.
"… Now I understand why frogs were banished from every single corner of the Great Forest."
"Beastfolk, to assume the persecution of frogs was based on moral values is foolish. The alliance of the Great Forest deemed frogs—"
"ENOUGH!"
Agnar drew in a deep breath, letting it fill his chest before releasing it in a long, steady exhale. When he spoke again, his voice carried a weight of resolution that cut through the tension.
"No one is going to touch the frog."
"AGNAR—!"
PUNCH!
The dwarf took a full blow to the face, the impact snapping his head sideways before his body slammed into the stone floor. The sound echoed sharply through the cavern. He pushed himself up with trembling arms, blood dripping from his mouth as he spat out a tooth that rolled across the cold ground.
Agnar turned around and sent a piercing look at every single member of his party, waiting for someone to challenge him. To his surprise, no one dared to speak. The sight of a six‑foot‑five, 234 pound beastfolk radiating raw fury was enough to silence any thought of defiance.
He then marched toward the frog, each step heavy and deliberate. His bloodthirsty glare locked onto the frogfolk, who received the sight without flinching.
"I am taking this child in."
"Huh‑? Oh! Yes… A‑agnar… You mean to carry the child to the surface right?"
Geese's shoulders tightened and sweat gathered along his temples as he watched Agnar lower his gaze to the unconscious boy, close his eyes for a moment, and shake his head in a slow, deliberate motion.
"No, I am taking him back to my home, the Doldia Village."
"B‑but Agnar… We've agreed as a party that we would deliver the child to the client! That's what this mission was for in the first place! Not to mention that we've already taken the down payment of fifteen gold coins! We can't pay that amount back after we've invested so much and we are but ass naked—"
"We won't be paying anything back, and we won't be delivering anything at all."
"Huh? I don't follow…"
"Because we are dead."
"…"
Geese's throat tightened as his body leaned forward slightly, his eyes widening while Agnar's voice carried through the cavern with steady weight.
"Geese, go to the adventure's hub and report everything that happened in the Hydra's chamber to its detail. The guild will have no choice but to forcefully disband the party due to all of its inefficient number of alive party members, which the debt that we have with our client will default to the guild."
"…!"
-----Geese POV-----
Agnar… the fact you came up with a plan that fast and clean really knocks the wind out of me, and now you've boxed me into a corner where if I step in and reject it, then I'll just draw in unnecessary conflict.
And looking at Thorkell… Watching him rub the side of his face with his palm while staring at the floor tells me he's not going to protest anything.
Tch... Should I suggest I carry the boy myself?
No... After that Dragon God fight, my reputation is already hanging by a thread, so that will only make every head turn toward me with suspicion.
Dammit! If I can't convince Agnar to deliver the boy to our client before we reach the surface, then I'm going to have to kidnap the saint and deliver him to the demonkin myself...
"T‑That's a great plan, Agnar."
-----Agnar POV-----
Geese has been acting extremely suspicious ever since taking this client's work. I made it painfully clear to never accept any people‑related quest, yet he insisted we rescue this boy lost in the deep channels of an underground labyrinth. I reluctantly accepted because it aligned with my goal of slaying a mythical beast and bringing it back home to earn the right to become Doldia's village chief. But what set off every alarm in my body was arriving at the scene and finding not only two boys trapped in that hydra's chamber, but also a girl hiding in the room of the teleportation circle. Every part of me was tightening with warning signs, yet I let Geese push me forward with the idea of rescuing her too.
The bloodthirst that wrapped around me when I faced that monster kept me from thinking straight, and looking back now, the frog definitely used that girl as a hostage. And something still doesn't add up with Geese's reaction to the frog's revival explanation. If the frog really kidnapped five people as our revival vessels and hid them from all of us, then Geese—who didn't die—how did he know where the vessels were located?
No matter how I look at it… both the frog and Geese have been moving in sync behind our backs. And maybe this boy I'm holding isn't meant to be rescued as a child… but delivered as a product. If Geese is actually telling the truth that the kid is a Saint while the priest's whole revival explanation isn't just some drunk man rambling, then this boy is truly in danger.
Why Geese... Why are you involving yourself with children now? This can't be just about gold...
...
Fine. If that's how you want to play it, then I'll play along. I'll be watching your every move, Geese, and wait for the moment you slip so the truth finally shows itself.
"Then it is settled, lead the way Geese."