His vision faded to white and back again. His breathing quickened, his head spun. As if the temperature of the blood flowing through his body had risen sharply, his whole body was hot.

* * *

Van wasn't breathing. Was he dead? Of course he was dead. Because he wasn't breathing.

But it didn't feel real.

‘Being with me on my journey, joining my mercenary squad, fighting for me. I promise to make sure you won't regret it until the day you die.’

He promised that he wouldn't make him regret it.

The promise was sincere. Not as a stranger fighting to return to the original world, but as the commander of Van Herdos. He wanted to be a reliable person in front of him.

“Are you going to play with me in a fancy way? I'm looking forward to it!”

“Shut up.”

But.... was he really dead, like this? It didn't feel real.

A fireball was created in Cadel's hand. It was the Chantless [Fireball]. The fierce attack wasted no time in targeting the fairy.

However, the attack failed to hit. The target was small, and he wasn't calm enough to aim at such a small target.

His heart thudded with a heavy rumble. He couldn't think straight. All he could see was the fairy in front of him, laughing in a horrible voice, and his own right arm, which was constantly drawing mana.