Arata suddenly found himself in that same place once again, surrounded by an absolute void.
He looked around, but couldn't see anything beyond a pulsating darkness that seemed to swallow reality itself.
It was like a dimension made entirely of shadows.
— Is that woman... going to appear again? — Arata murmured, his teeth chattering. — What is this place...?
As if answering his call, a curvaceous silhouette emerged from the shadows.
Her long silver hair contrasted sharply with the black cloak covering her head and concealing most of her features.
— Arata-kun — her voice echoed, soft and melodious.
The boy remained speechless for several moments before finally managing to speak.
— Who the hell are you...?
— I'm just a witch... — She took a step forward, fixing him with a deeply tender and romantic gaze.
— Destiny... It's cruel, isn't it? It made you die three times in a row.
Cold sweat ran down Arata's neck, disturbed by the intensity of her presence.
— What? Why are you looking at me like that? With that look like you're in love with me...? Who are you, anyway?!
— I look at you like this... because I love you, Arata-kun. I am...
She leaned forward, preparing to say her name, but Arata's consciousness was violently pulled away.
The dark world collapsed before he could hear her answer, leaving the mystery of her identity floating within the void.
The next second, Arata jolted awake in the middle of the capital's main avenue.
He was standing at exactly the same Return Point as before.
He raised his trembling hands and stared at his fingers, noticing the plastic bag containing the uncooked ramen.
"Man... when am I finally going to find out who that woman is?" he thought, trying to catch his breath.
"Now I'm certain that she's the one who granted me Return by Death.
But why? And did she bring me here? If she did... why did she bring me to this world?"
Putting those questions aside for the moment, he got up and walked toward the sidewalk.
Ahead, the same carriage raced down the road, and the armored knight leaped forward at the very last second to save the child.
"Yeah... now I understand everything," Arata reflected as he watched the scene repeat itself exactly as before.
"This world follows a predetermined chronological fate. Events here seem to run along the rails of a written destiny... And I'm the only one capable of changing it.
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Why did I have to inherit such a heavy burden, anyway?"
Determined to act quickly, Arata hurried toward the capital's commercial district.
He passed between rows of shops and street stalls, taking in the fresh scent of citrus fruits and the earthy smell of vegetables stacked on the market stands.
He kept walking until he reached the entrance of the quiet alley.
Arata searched the pockets of his sports jacket, making sure his only possessions, his cellphone, Bluetooth earphones, and the bag of ramen in his hand, were still there.
— These things are all I have for now... — he murmured.
As he rounded the corner of the alley, Arata found the three familiar figures blocking the passage.
The three masked robbers were there, exactly as they had been in the previous timelines.
— There you are! — Arata exclaimed, even though cold sweat was already running down his body.
— Look, I'm not really the revenge-seeking type, but this time I'm making an exception!
The robber standing in front frowned beneath his mask.
— What the hell are you mumbling about, you piece of shit?
— We haven't seen this weird guy before — the second bandit commented, confused.
— Enough talking. Let's rob this idiot already — ordered the third.
Instead of trying to fight or retreat, Arata took a deep breath and used the full power of his lungs to shout toward the main street.
— HEY!!! GUARDS!!! HELP! IN THIS ALLEY!!! THERE ARE... BANDITS!!!
— What?! You little bastard! — the leader of the trio shouted furiously.
Before they could react, the firm, heavy sound of footsteps echoed from the entrance of the alley.
Panicking, the second robber pulled out a short knife and charged toward Arata.
— Hey, sir! Guard! Please protect me! — Arata shouted, shrinking back and squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for the impact.
Instead, what he heard was the sharp crack of an impact, followed by the metallic clang of a weapon striking the stone floor and echoing through the alley.
The weapon had been disarmed.
Slowly opening his eyes, Arata stammered:
— What...?
Standing before him was a broad-shouldered man with an impeccable posture.
When he turned slightly, vibrant red hair and sharp amber eyes were revealed.
He wore a long, tailored off-white coat made from a structured and imposing material.
Underneath it, he wore a black high-neck shirt with subtle golden thread details along the seams.
His lower half was dressed in fitted black cargo pants, paired with high-top leather boots featuring silver buckles and modern lugged soles.
At his waist, secured with dark leather straps and a brushed-metal tactical belt, rested an ornate golden sheath and a massive sword with a gleaming hilt.
— Was this where I heard someone calling for help? — the newcomer asked in a firm, resonant voice.
The mere presence of the man made the air inside the alley feel ten times heavier.
The three criminals backed away, their faces instantly paling beneath their masks.
— You... You're Kauã Alves?! — the third robber stammered in horror. — It can't be...
— Exactly — the red-haired man replied, maintaining a frightening calm. — I am Kauã Alves, the Holy Knight of Karakiri.
— He's from that damn noble family, the Alves... The grandson of the Sword Demon — the second robber muttered, his fingers trembling.
— He's the knight who currently possesses the legendary sword that can cut through anything... The Legendary Slayer: Kamikiri — the leader swallowed nervously.
Kauã placed his left hand on the weapon's hilt, attempting to draw it, but the blade didn't move even an inch inside the golden sheath.
The knight let out a faint, mocking sigh.
— Apparently, Kamikiri doesn't consider you worthy enough for me to wield her against you.
— The sword decides whether an enemy is worthy? — Arata asked, his eyes widening.
— That's right — Kauã explained without taking his amber eyes off the criminals.
— She refuses to leave the sheath to fight insignificant opponents.
— Let's get the hell out of here! Now! — the leader shouted.
Overcome with panic, the three bandits turned around and fled, disappearing through the back of the alley.
Kauã turned completely toward Arata, his expression becoming gentler.
— Calling for help was a wise decision, young man.
It wouldn't have been prudent to confront them alone.
— Thanks a lot, man! You're awesome! — Arata said sincerely, relaxing his posture.
As they talked, a metallic click echoed from the nobleman's waist.
The Kamikiri sword moved by itself, sliding a fraction of an inch out of its sheath before returning.
Kauã lowered his eyes toward the weapon, genuinely surprised.
— What was that...? — Arata asked, raising an eyebrow.
— No... It was nothing — Kauã replied, concealing his shock.
"Why did you consider him worthy, Kamikiri?" the knight wondered, staring at the brown-haired young man.
He couldn't understand it.
What Kauã didn't know was that he was standing before the only person capable of changing Lugiri's merciless destiny.
The legendary sword had recognized Arata not because of his physical strength or magical resistance, but because of his absolute ability to alter the destiny of that world.
— Although... it would be great to have your help, man — Arata began, awkwardly running a hand through his brown hair.
— But now that I think about it... I can't drag you into my problems like this.
— What kind of problems are we talking about? — Kauã asked curiously.
Arata thought quickly.
"Wait... It would be perfect if someone could warn that blonde girl about what's happening. Then she wouldn't think I'm an enemy."
— Hey, Kauã, could you...
— Wait — the red-haired knight interrupted him with a slight smile. — You haven't even told me your name yet.
— Oh, right! My name is Arata Ryusei! — the boy apologized, laughing awkwardly. — Sorry about the lack of manners, bro!
— Mine is Kauã Alves. It's a pleasure, Arata. Now, what do you need?
— I need you to find a blonde-haired girl with purple eyes who's somewhere around the commercial district.
Tell her that a guy named Arata went to the slums to help her recover the necklace that was stolen from her.
Can you do that for me?
Kauã nodded, adjusting his off-white coat.
— Certainly. Leave it to me. I'll deliver your message.
— Great! Thank you so much, Kauã!
Checking the route in his mind, Arata took a deep breath and smiled as adrenaline surged through his veins.
"Everything is ready now... I'm going to change the course of destiny!" he vowed to himself.
Without wasting another second, he sprinted toward the northern district of the slums.
End of Chapter 11...
To be continued in Chapter 12...