Online In Another World
Chapter 139 The Red-Haired Adventurer

“…I can’t die…not yet…” He mumbled weakly.

It all felt futile; the shreels of arachnids echoed throughout the forest-like park, following behind him as he felt his body hardly responding to his commands anymore.

“–Is that so? Then stay down for a moment, wouldja?”

The voice that spoke out to him was vaguely familiar; a masculine voice that was oddly optimistic for the situation.

As he looked up, his blurry vision could only make out the silhouette of the man standing over him, who had a flowing, black cape on his back and an arm that was gathering crimson flames.

Vandread…? No…who are…? He questioned.

Before he could make out the identity of the stranger, he passed out just as a massive wave of flames was unleashed at the swipe of his savior’s arm, completely engulfing the swarm of spiders in one move.

The man standing over the unconscious young man had a scruffy, red beard and matching, unkempt hair with a look of confidence in his smiling eyes. He had a mixed-set of brown leather and silver-plated armor; it was that rag-tag combination along with the swaying necklace of his that confirmed it: he was an adventurer.

“You did good, kid,” the man said.

Who knew the brat from Yullim would become such a reliable guy? The red-haired man thought.

A masterful amount of control was presented through the fact that only the spiders and the webs they had woven were burnt away, but not a single leaf suffered the heat of the adventurer’s flames.

“Phew,” the man exhaled before looking down at the unconscious Emilio, “…Well, let’s get you out of here.”

As he hoisted the light, fifteen-year-old up, an object slipped out from Emilio’s coat, which the red-haired man caught with cat-like reflexes._.

It was a coin; a unique one with a cross and a sword etched into its material.

“Oh?” The man looked at it as a warm smile formed across his lips.

You held onto it this whole time, huh? The man thought.

–

After an unknown amount of time, Emilio found himself waking up but his eyelids had yet to act in accordance as he had to manually open them, though they were quite heavy.

“Ngh…”

As he sat up, he winced as he held his throbbing head, replaceing the subtlest light to cause him to flinch from the sudden migraine.

It seemed he was sitting under the veil of a curtain; upon further inspection, it was a toppled over carriage, now used as a makeshift room.

“Ah, I’d be careful if I were you. Those spiders got you good, it seems,” the voice of the man told him.

Blinking a few times, he looked up with his adjusting vision, “…Who are you? An adventurer?”

“Don’t recognize me? That saddens me a bit.”

Said playfully, the man knelt down in front of the boy, presenting himself to Emilio’s eyes as his vision focused, finally able to see the red-haired man clearly, who looked to be in his late-twenties to early-thirties.

“You…! Wait, you’re that guy from the guild–in Yullim!” Emilio said, finally realizing.

It was the last place he expected to reunite with the stranger that left him with quite the impression. To confirm his realization, the man smiled and flipped the coin over to him, which he caught and smiled down at.

“Considering you still have that coin I gave you, it seems you’re not an adventurer. But, if you’re in Larundog, I’m guessing you were on your way to Vasmoria to go to the Guild Foundation,” the man guessed.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

He’s perceptive, Emilio thought.

The black-caped adventurer with red hair extended his hand, which was clad in a light-brown glove, “The name’s Roan. Most just call me ‘Red-Hair’, though.”

“Emilio,” he gave his name in return, shaking the man’s hand.

Inside the toppled-over carriage, which had a sparse amount of light seep in through the holes in the white curtain, Roan returned to his feet.

“This is a high-ranking quest; the ‘Unending Nightmare’ is certainly not something fit for standard adventurers to handle,” Roan explained, “I don’t know what the Foundation was thinking–they wasted a lot of lives…”

“–” He silently sat there before realizing, “–Ah, my staff!”

“Right here,” Roan said, tossing his wooden catalyst over.

In surprise, he caught the object, but he was thankful more than anything as he gripped it, replaceing his way to his feet, though there was still some weariness in his body.

“I came here with somebody,” Emilio said, “Err, he’s an adventurer, too: Vandread. I don’t know what rank he is, but he’s pretty capable.”

“Vandread? Ah, I’ve met him a couple times on the road,” Roan said, putting his glove to his chin, “That’s relieving to hear. In a situation like this, we need all hands on deck–well, reliable hands.”

“I remember before…didn’t you have a group of people with you? Other adventurers?” He asked.

The man with shaggy, red hair raised an eyebrow before laughing, bashfully ruffling his own hair, “Yeah, about that, I sort of went on ahead–alone. The Foundation mislabeled this quest it seems. The ‘Unending Nightmare’ is a primordial monster; something like this would require one hero-rank swordsman, or a few tyrants, at least.”

“That much…?”

“You’ve seen it yourself, no? This isn’t a joke,” Roan said, “Anyway, you know how this place functions, right? Fears are manifested, and doorways can lead to even more freaky places.”

“Yeah, I know that,” he nodded.

Though as Roan asked him that question, he realized that the usage of the flipped-over carriage was for a hiding spot that didn’t require a doorway. There wasn’t any hesitance or time wasted by Roan, who had an air of experience around him. It was different from raw power; it was the aura of a veteran.

He’s good, he thought.

“What elements can you use? Are you up for casting?” Roan asked.

“Err, I can use all of them, and yeah, I think so,” he nodded.

“All? Looks like I put my faith in the right brat,” Roan smiled, ruffling Emilio’s hair before getting serious again.

Even more than experience, it was even more telling that Roan didn’t treat him like a child, but a proper ally in the face of the daunting situation.

“How long have you been here?” Emilio asked.

Roan folded his arms over his chest, “I just got here right before I found you at the park. I tracked the mana signature I felt and it led me to you. Count yourself lucky it did.”

“Yeah, forgot to thank you for that…thanks,” he said.

“First things first,” Roan said, moving on, “Let’s try to replace other survivors. It’s our priority to secure the lives of civilians.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to hunt the source of this first? I mean, if we take out the Unending Nightmare, there won’t be any risk for everybody else,” he suggested.

“Maybe, but that lends the question of how we even track it down: it changes its shape, controls the entire city, and can manipulate spaces,” Roan told him, “If we can’t pin it down, we can’t guarantee we’ll eliminate it before it eliminates others.”

“I see,” he nodded.

While he found himself woefully outmatched in knowledge, tactics, and experience with Roan, it wasn’t something that made him feel pressured, but actually shined like an opportunity to learn from a seasoned adventurer.

“Still, if we replace that bastard first, we’ll attack,” Roan said.

“It’s strong, can we take it…?”

“Trust me,” Roan smiled, “I’m pretty damn strong myself.”

He found himself smiling as well, feeling some resurgence of hope under the wing of the red-haired adventurer.

“–Speaking of which, we’ve got some visitors,” Roan said, glancing back.

All there was around them were the curtains of the flipped carriage, which confused Emilio, who didn’t see or hear anything.

“We do?”

Before he could get an answer, he watched as Roan held his left hand up, manifesting embers that swirled and coalesced around his hand before forming into the shape of a sword. It wasn’t just simply reshapened flames, but a tangible, steel claymore that was etched with the pattern of flames across its length.

What kind of magecraft is that…? He questioned.

In one movement of the flame-born claymore, which presented itself with a black handle and an inferno-clad silver, Roan cast away the curtain around the temporary base, burning it away to non-existence to reveal the scarlet sky once more.

They were smackdab in the middle of a street, with the fallen carriage having fallen by what used to be a stable of horses used for other commercial coaches.

“You can sit back if you’d like, but…I’d recommend being ready for anything,” Roan suggested with a smile.

“Right,” he nodded, standing up with his staff held.

Though he was ready to fight, he was more interested in how Roan handled himself; though they had only briefly met before, the adventurer had an imprint on his aspirations. To him, the seasoned adventurer was the very image of an ‘adventurer.’

Approaching them on the cobblestone streets were man-hogs; bulky humanoids with the heads of hogs, bearing blood-stained tusks and an inhuman bloodlust.

“I’ll support you,” Emilio said, focusing up.

Roan nodded, “‘Preciate it!”