Chapter 160 Unknown Visitor To Madness

“I see now. That’s who you are–there’s no mistaking the heat of those flames,” Shammoth said mysteriously, “–You’re quite the handful, Dragonheart boy.”

Those words brought Emilio back into focus as he stepped forward, “Wait, how do you–”

“Until we meet again, Dragonheart. It may not be tomorrow or the next day, but that time will surely come. When it does, let’s chat,” Shammoth said with a mischievous grin.

Before he could get an answer, Shammoth tipped the hat on his head before vanishing into nothing more than smoke and darkness.

At the same moment, he relinquished his hold on the Dragonheart Hurricane, causing the flames to dissipate as he fell to his knees, coughing up blood.

“Emilio!”

Melisande raced over, checking on him as she was shocked by the amount of wounds present on his body.

“You’re hurt!…It’s bad!” Melisande said.

“…I’m fine…” Emilio assured her weakly.

By the look in his eyes, he was still focused on the enigmatic encounter, though the fight in his body left him as the draconic essence settled, causing the scales to disappear and his eyes to return.

“You’re bleeding…there’s too much blood–at this rate…!” Melisande panicked.

He was almost too exhausted to even care about the state of his body at that moment, but he grabbed onto the girl’s hand, taking her by surprise.

“Emilio?” She looked at him.

“I don’t have enough mana to heal all of this, but I can heal if I use some of yours,” he told her, looking her in the eyes.

“Go ahead…! Hurry!” Melisande answered.

Though the girl at times had a proud exterior, there was nothing she wanted less to lose anymore than she already did, allowing the young man to utilize her mana through their held hands as he cast ‘Healing’ on himself.

It took a good few minutes, but in the end he opted not to fully recover his wounds and left them as scratches to not strain the girl so much.

“…Phew…” Melisande breathed out, sweating.

“Thanks,” Emilio smiled, “…and, sorry for earlier.”

Though he still believed it was the right choice, he knew that forcing the girl out of the fight was going against her desires, and directly hurting her own pride.

Still, Melisande gently hit his arm before looking away, “Don’t apologize. You…made the right call. Just that one time, though.”

“Guess so,” he chuckled.

After an exhausting battle, Melisande practically forced him to rest as he sat against the wall for what felt like an eternity in the dull environment of the endless office spaces.

What was that about? He thought, ‘Viscount of Farmaya’? What did he have to do with the Unending Nightmare? Why unleash it on Larundog?

“…What do you think that person wanted? Why did he want to hurt you?” Melisande asked.

“He wanted to hurt us both. I’m not sure why though…still, it doesn’t change anything. We need to get out of here,” he said, bringing himself to his feet.

–

Through the dull, bland corridors of the mold-smelling office space, a monotonous search resumed before at last, another door was found.

“There it is,” he said.

“Do you think it’ll finally be Larundog?” Melisande asked.

He had to shield her from the truth again, “Dunno. We won’t know until we open it.”

As always, there was an ominous feeling when approaching a door; it was the endless possibilities of nightmares that could await. While the current floor was on the lighter side of horror, there was still nothing good about it or the state it left his mind in.

Only this time, he could hope he’d come closer to the end of it all by stepping through the next door.

–

[Scarlet Sand Realm | ???]

“Woah! It really does seem like I’m quite lost!”

Standing in the hellscape of an alternate world, a bright-eyed, youthful man, no older than his early-twenties, looked around with a smile.

He was built with a toned physique, having tan skin and shaggy, black-and-silver hair that ended in a ponytail. By the gray cloak that cascaded down his back and his light, black leather armor that protected his chest, legs, and hands, he was unmistakably an adventurer.

Walking behind him, struggling to climb up the hill of chalky, red dirt, a woman, similar in age to the man, with standout, circular-rimmed glasses and neat, ginger hair in a bowl cut, let out a sigh.

“…I don’t see how you’re still so energetic. We’ve been trapped in these nightmares for days now,” the woman said, adjusting her glasses.

The energetic man leaned forward, peering down towards the crimson valley that was filled with malignant entities, “Are you kidding? Why would I NOT be excited? There was nothing like this on Earth! I mean, maybe in video games and comics, but never in a million years did I expect to see this for real!”

The woman sighed again, adjusting her all-black wizard hat, “There you go again spouting words that make no sense. How did I get stuck with an oddball like you, Kintoki Braveheart?”

As the wizard-dressed woman opened her eyes after sighing, she realized the energetic man was no longer in front of her.

“Huh?–Not again…” She slowly shook her head.

Dropping from the cliff and plummeting towards the red sands that were inhabited by the necrotic swordsman and beastly humanoids, Kintoki smiled wide.

“Let’s get this party started!” Kintoki yelled out, letting his voice be carried through the bleak realm.

Despite the overwhelming horrors present in the incomplete world, the man’s smile did not fade as he landed with an impact that kicked up a cloud of crimson dust.

He was completely surrounded, but the ginger-haired companion of his simply watched with an annoyed expression as if this was an everyday thing with the eccentric man.

“Sit this one back, Sumera! I’ve got this!” Kintoki called out with a bright smile.

The woman adjusted her classes, mumbling to herself, “I didn’t plan on helping anyway.”

Clicking their tongues, the hellish fiends of patch, onyx skin and devoid of eyes found the man through echolocation, swiftly charging at him.

“–All at once? That’s fine with me!” Kintoki yelled with a smile.

BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP.

The thumping of his heart, beating rapidly with excitement at the prospect of a thrilling battle awakened something innately ingrained in his being:

[Braveheart System Activated.]

That wild percussion of his heart manifested into a tangible force as the air pressure shifted around the man; his muscles tightened and bulked-up, causing his golden pupils to change to a powerful radiance.

With a stomp of his foot, Kintoki sent a tremor through the chalky ground, stunning the incoming entities.

A diabolical smile appeared across the man’s lips as he eyes down the droves of monsters before him, coming in all shapes and sizes amidst the crimson cavern.

In a burst of speed, he unsheathed the massive, wide blade from his back, slicing through a dozen horrors in a moment.

A trail of minced monster meat was left with blood lacing the air while the bulkened, energetic man continued sweeping forward.

“Ha-ha!” Kintoki roared with delighted laughter.

He was an unstoppable force of violence; the fiends attempted to counterattack with bladed limbs and projectile spit that soared like acid, but Kintoki was simply too fast and too aggressive.

The blade he wielded hardly adhered to the natural form of a sword; the steel was wider than his own body and the length matched his own height. A blood-red fabric was loosely tied around the handle, matching the fresh liquid that stained its edge.

Sumera spectated with a bored expression, as if having watched this very scenario multiple times.

Of course it was my luck to get stuck with a handful like Kintoki, Sumera thought, still…it was him that took me into his party when nobody else would.

The bloodshed of the nightmarish entities continued as they closed in around the golden-eyed men; four-armed, abyssal entities surrounded him, stretching their limbs out to grasp him.

In response, without losing his fiery smile, Kintoki spun his behemoth of a sword above his head, gathering an intense rotation before obliterating the outstretched limbs.

‘Kintoki Braveheart’–an outcast of the Guild Foundation, just like myself, Sumera thought, nobody knows where he came from, his heritage, or what the source of his strength is. It’s made a lot of people fear him; that monstrous power living inside him. It doesn’t help that he’s a…unique personality, to say the least.

With a massive swing of his sword, the raw power behind Kintoki’s attack was extended through the sheer wind pressure left from the swing, causing the incoming, tar-skinned monster to be sliced into a dozen pieces.

Still…Sumera thought, past all of those eccentricities, Kintoki is a gentle spirit; a man who might just embody the essence of a hero.

After being lost in her own thoughts, the woman in the black-and-azure mage uniform of a length robe with a silver-decorated mantle looked down, finding the entirety of the fiends present in the realm cleared out.

Kintoki stood triumphant, surrounded by diced-up monsters and blood-soaked sand, holding a smile as his muscles returned to their normal size and looking back at his partner, “Didja see that, Sumara? I think that’s a new record for me!”

“Huh? I wasn’t paying attention,” Sumera casually answered.

“What?! You were supposed to be keeping count!” Kintoki gasped.

The orange-haired mage hopped down from the cliff, returning to the man’s side as she kept her arms folded over her chest, “Ignoring that…How about we move on? I’m getting tired of this realm–it has quite the dull scenery.”

“Yeah? Guess you’re right,” Kintoki said, looking around as he scratched his head.