A soft, golden light erupted from Kairo's hand as he summoned a basic text, illuminating the cramped cell. With a precise manipulation of his mud magic, a perfect, motionless earthen figure of Leonhart materialized in the corner of the room to act as a decoy. Kairo then wiped his own face clean of the magical residue, his normal, twelve-year-old features returning to light.
Leonhart blinked, looking at his clone, then at Kairo. The tension drained from his shoulders. "Thank you, Kairo... I don't know exactly what you just did, but because of that move, you saved our—"
"Language," Kairo cut in automatically.
"Oh, sorry," Leonhart muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think I'm starting to sound a bit too much like you. But how did you change my face like that? First into something ugly, then into a normal, bland face?"
Kairo leaned against the damp stone wall, crossing his arms as his mind ran through old psychological treatises he had memorized. "Hmm... well, you know I have a photographic memory. I read about this using my old-world knowledge. Good-looking people create a psychological halo effect—a cognitive bias where humanity naturally assumes beautiful things are inherently good. It's honestly crazy. In normal realms, when you do good deeds, your soul purifies and your presence shines. But here? Their faces are so artificially shiny that even I almost fell into their trap, instinctively thinking they were good people."
"Yeah," Leonhart admitted softly, staring at the stone floor. "Me too. I dropped my guard because they looked elegant."
"Exactly," Kairo nodded, his eyes darkening. "That's when I realized the core mechanic of this territory. In the Land of Lust, physical beauty isn't just an aesthetic—it's treated as a high-level social status. That's why I initially used my mud magic to make our faces look grotesque. I needed to baseline the soldiers' reactions. When they grew frustrated, it confirmed my hypothesis: they aren't just looking for cheap labor."
He looked toward the locked wooden door, his analytical mind spinning a thread of dark logic.
"They are actively hunting for handsome, genetically perfect children. And who knows... in a place run by a corrupted regime like this, they might just be looking for the child of prophecy to exploit."
"What are you guys even talking about?"
The voice was tiny, muffled by the thick stone wall separating their cell from the next. Before Kairo or Leonhart could respond, a soft click echoed through the darkness. The heavy oak door swung open. Standing in the threshold was a young boy, holding a makeshift lockpick.
"Yeah, you guys are pretty old to be living here," the boy whispered, ushering them out into a larger, hidden corridor.
Kairo looked at him, his analytical mind immediately measuring the boy's height and frame. "What is your name? And how old are you?"
"My name is Julian," the boy replied, wiping his brow. "I'm ten years old. Honestly, I'm shocked looking at you guys. You've already got sprouted mustaches; you must be at least twelve."
"We are," Kairo replied smoothly. "Tell us everything about this place."
To establish trust, Kairo and Leonhart shed the heavy black fur jacket, exposing the finely crafted, gleaming armor underneath. "We are warrior kids," Kairo said, his voice steady and commanding. "We can help you, or at least buy you enough time to get out of here."
Julian's eyes went wide. "Wait... no way. That's so cool."
He led them deeper into the hidden subterranean underbelly of the orphanage. As they entered a massive, cavernous chamber, the other children acted with practiced, military-like caution. They lit small torches, while a second group immediately used spare layers of clothes to shield the high windows, ensuring not a single flicker of light escaped into the courtyard outside.
When the torchlight finally illuminated the room, Kairo and Leonhart froze.
Hundreds of children were huddled together in the damp dark. They were visibly terrified, covered in deep bruises, some nursing broken arms and untreated fractures. Leonhart's hand instantly flew to the hilt of his weapon, his eyes burning with a righteous, lethal fury, ready to tear the entire castle down.
Kairo, however, closed his eyes and focused inward, scanning his internal biology. The system stripped my active combat magic, but... my passive regeneration factor was woven directly into my soul contract. It's still intact.
Stepping forward, Kairo tapped into his raw mana reserves. He couldn't cast offensive spells, but he could redirect his passive healing outward. He walked through the crowd, gently touching the bruised limbs and broken bones of the children. As his mana washed over them, the fractures knit back together, and the deep purple bruises faded into clear skin.
Exhausted but determined, Kairo reached out his hand, attempting to manifest sustenance from his memory of the old world.
A glowing translucent text box snapped into reality, visible only to him and Leonhart.
[ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ]
Congratulations! You have unlocked [Food Summoning Magic] once again. Your compassionate behavior toward orphans and younger children has triggered a hidden clause: your Angelic Affinity is rising.
[ NEW ABILITY GRANTED ]: Feast Manifestation.
Hmm, this system isn't so bad after all, Kairo thought, a small, genuine smile gracing his face.
Act XIX: The Foundations of an Underground Kingdom
Acting quickly, Kairo extended his hands toward the windows. His mud magic surged, far denser and more responsive than it had ever been before. Thick, seamless layers of dark earth rose up, perfectly sealing every crack and window, ensuring absolute light containment.
With the room entirely blacked out from the outside world, Leonhart smiled broadly. He took the torches and lit them fully, casting a warm, brilliant glow over the sanctuary. Next came the food. Trays of steaming, nutrient-rich meals manifested in flashes of white light. The children, starved for days, looked at the feast in absolute awe before devouring the food with primal hunger. Leonhart moved eagerly among them, helping Kairo distribute the portions.
"Well, Leonhart," Kairo said, watching the children finally smile through their tears. "It seems like this world isn't entirely a bad place after all, is it?"
Leonhart paused, a tray in his hands, his expression turning solemn. "No, Kairo. There is no such thing as a bad place. We humans are the reason a place feels like that. It's our choices that corrupt it. But... how are we going to get them out of this cursed city?"
Kairo stood in the center of the cavernous room, running the tactical arithmetic. My 'Jack of all Trades, Master of None' skill was canceled by the system. But because those broad powers were stripped away, all that latent mana has compressed into my remaining skills. My mud magic is amplified tenfold.
"Watch this," Kairo whispered.
He slammed both palms flat onto the stone floor. "Lower," he commanded internally.
The earth groaned. To Leonhart and Julian's absolute shock, the ground beneath the center of the room began to smoothly recede, forming a massive, perfectly circular pit, as if the planet itself were hollowing out to shelter them.
"No way..." Leonhart whispered, staring at the shifting terrain. "This is your magic now? You might be the first person in existence to hold earth magic of this specific density, Kairo. Incredible."
The surrounding children watched in stunned silence as Kairo manipulated the rising walls of mud, hardening them into stone and creating a solid, reinforced roof over the subterranean chamber. They had just built a highly secure, untraceable underground bunker right beneath the enemy's feet.
Julian ran to the edge of the newly formed structure, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and lingering fear. "This is amazing, Kairo! But... what about the guards? When they do their headcounts, they'll know we're gone!"
Kairo wiped the sweat from his brow, his eyes gleaming with the sharp confidence of a seasoned strategist.
"You will be completely fine, Julian, believe me," Kairo replied, nodding toward the upper cells. "While I was sealing the room, I used the residual clay to fashion perfect, breathing mud clones of every single one of you up there. The guards won't notice a thing until we are ready to strike."
The heavy iron door at the top of the stone stairs shattered open with a violent SLAM. A synchronized, rapid clanking of armored boots echoed down the corridor as a fresh group of soldiers rushed inside the upper hall.
Down in the subterranean pit, Julian instantly held his head in his hands, his face turning entirely pale with raw terror. "I am screwed," he whimpered, his voice trembling violently. "I am screwed..."
The guards above began throwing open the cell doors, their lanterns cutting through the upper gloom. Through the cracks in the newly fashioned mud ceiling, the boys could see the light washing over the perfectly sculpted earthen decoys. The clones sat motionless in the shadows, mimicking the breathing patterns of terrified, sleeping children with flawless accuracy.
The lead guard paused, squinting into the cell that had belonged to the ten-year-old lockpick. "Julian!" he barked into the dark. "Get over here!"
Panicking, the real Julian opened his mouth to respond from the pit below, his instincts overriding his logic. But before a single sound could escape his throat, Leonhart lunged forward, throwing his massive forearm over the boy's mouth, completely sealing it shut.
Upstairs, a figure stepped out from the shadows of the cell, moving directly into the guard's lantern light. It was Julian—or rather, Kairo, who had seamlessly expanded his mud magic to coat his own body. The refinement of his compressed earth magic had reached an terrifying baseline; it didn't just mirror physical traits like hair and height, it perfectly replicated the subtle psychological tells, the nervous twitch of the shoulders, and the exact vocal frequency of the boy.
"Y-yes, sir?" Kairo stammered, putting on a masterclass of a frightened ten-year-old's behavior. "Is something wrong?"
Instead of the rough, abusive tone they had used earlier, the soldiers adjusted their posture, their expressions turning strangely polite. "Sorry to bother you," the lead guard said, his voice lowering into a civil register. "We heard a loud noise coming from this sector. Ensure you stay inside your cell."
Down in the dark pit, Leonhart's eyes widened as he listened to the exchange. His analytical mind connected the dots instantly. The real Julian isn't just an orphan. The guards are treating his identity with actual respect. Realizing the kid they were holding was a total imposter, Leonhart's grip tightened, his calloused hand squeezing Julian's mouth even harder, nearly suffocating the boy in the process as Julian thrashed around in panic.
Above them, the soldiers scanned the room one last time, completely oblivious to the fact that they were speaking to a high-tier magical construct. Satisfied, they turned on their heels and marched out, the heavy iron doors locking behind them.
The moment the boots faded into the distance, Kairo liquefied the mud clone, his form melting back down through the earthen floor into the hidden bunker. His face returned to its normal, cold, twelve-year-old state.
Leonhart dropped the gasping boy onto the dirt. Both Kairo and Leonhart loomed over him, their faces cast in deep shadow from the flickering torches, radiating a dense, menacing aura that made the air in the bunker feel heavy and suffocating.
"So," Kairo whispered, his eyes narrowing into cold slits. "Who exactly are you?"
Act XXI: The Confession in the Dirt
Julian scrambled backward on his hands and knees until his back hit the mud wall, clutching his throat and gasping for oxygen. "Please! Spare my life!" he begged, tears streaming down his face as he looked at the two terrifying twelve-year-olds. "I'll tell you everything! I will reveal every single power, attribute, and secret of this kingdom! Just let me live! I'm a newborn kid just like you... please leave me, I want to live until my eight-hundreds at least!"
Leonhart stepped forward, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles popped. His voice dropped into a terrifyingly mature, masculine register, burning with the righteous fury of a warrior's bloodline. "You think I will leave someone like you to live up to eight hundred? Even if you didn't physically kill anyone, you stayed here and helped them torture these children! I will rip you apart over and over again, and let you rot for a hundred years in a cell!"
Julian flinched, burying his face in his arms, sobbing hysterically.
Kairo stood just behind Leonhart, his expression completely detached, his mind calculating the strategic value of the situation. He looked down at Julian like an academic examining a specimen.
"Well," Kairo said smoothly, his tone conversational but ice-cold. "I won't resist him, Julian. You know, my soul contract still gives me a passive regeneration factor. If Leonhart breaks you, I will just heal you over and over again. I'm going to go outside and investigate this entire city. If I find out a single piece of information you gave us is a lie..."
He paused, letting the silence hang heavily in the subterranean room before looking over at his friend with a sharp, cynical smirk.
"Leonhart... you are a very good opportunist, or may I say, you have excellent luck today. You have my full permission to remove every single bit of your anger on him until he talks."