Chapter 627: The Sound of the Flute

His right arm was captured.

The White Flame started to flicker out.

The Pied Piper swung his fist.

Oliver’s face, neck, and torso twisted sharply to the right, filling his ears with a high-pitched screech.

“······!”

The power left him dazed. Oliver couldn’t even scream, struggling only to regain his senses and launch a counterattack.

“Disease━”

━Boom!!

But his follow-up was easily blocked by the Pied Piper’s fist.

Even with one hand gripping Oliver’s right arm, the Pied Piper began to beat Oliver relentlessly.

Face, abdomen, sides, shoulder, arm—every part of his body suffered blows.

Each time, Oliver barely managed to hold onto his fading consciousness only to fail at various attempts to counterattack.

It was the obvious result. Oliver had no advantage in speed, strength, skill, or position.

He knew this better than anyone.

After his burned right arm was blocked, Oliver’s chance of gaining the upper hand dropped to nearly zero.

Yet, Oliver desperately held onto his consciousness for one reason only. To buy time.

Time for the prince to escape and for Merlin or the Holy Knights to arrive.

Luckily, even though the Pied Piper could have easily finished him off, he didn’t. He just kept hitting him hard enough.

‘Hard enough’ meant breaking his ribs with punches, shattering his leg by stomping on it, and disabling his right arm by striking his shoulder.

Even so, the Pied Piper did not finish Oliver off.

Wham.

Taking advantage of this, Oliver swung his left fist at the Pied Piper’s face when his right shoulder was struck.

His broken leg and the pain throughout his body meant his punch lacked power, but it didn’t matter.

Based on the feeling in his hand, the result would’ve been the same whether it was strong or weak.

‘It doesn’t work at all.’

Oliver thought as he looked at the Pied Piper’s unmoved face.

It felt like he was hitting a solid wall, or air.

Two completely different things, but they both shared that same feeling of ineffectiveness, and Oliver could sense that from the Pied Piper.

Coincidentally, Oliver had encountered this sensation once before.

It was similar to the Burned One.

A sense of encountering an overwhelming presence, like facing a being from another dimension, making everything seem pointless.

The difference between the Burned One and the Pied Piper, however, was how they treated Oliver.

“You’re trying,” he said.

In an indifferent voice, the Pied Piper punched Oliver’s face again.

Blood splattered through the air as Oliver’s head twisted sharply, and he nearly lost consciousness.

He would have passed out if he hadn’t felt his shadow stirring.

Creepy······.

Goosebumps rose on Oliver’s battered skin after being hit by the Pied Piper.

The same sensation he had felt once in Neverland.

As that sensation came back, Oliver’s shadow, which he had managed to suppress, tried to break free and expand.

Stretching out like it was reaching for the horizon.

A moment later, the shadow bound to the ground surged up, hundreds of eyes opened, and razor-sharp teeth parted, desperately inhaling air.

Its bizarre and incomprehensible form triggered an instinctive fear and rejection in anyone who saw it,

but the Pied Piper merely looked on with curious eyes.

As if he was waiting for something.

At that moment, Oliver spoke with difficulty.

“Obey······my will!”

Oliver, barely holding onto consciousness, conveyed his intent to the shadow. To calm down and return to its place.

Surprisingly, the shadow, which had just been acting on its own, hesitated when it met Oliver’s eyes.

It was suppressed by Oliver’s will.

Considering that this was a Creature capable of consuming an entire island, it was indeed a remarkable sight, whether it concerned mental strength, control, or anything else.

Seeing this, the Pied Piper asked Oliver.

“Are you okay with this? You might die.”

In the state where Oliver was too beaten to stay conscious, the Pied Piper asked.

His tone wasn’t mocking or arrogant.

For Oliver, the shadow was a foreboding presence he had to suppress, but it was also his only means of defense.

His body had already surpassed its limits after being pummeled by the Pied Piper, and his mind was not in a state to activate any spells.

The fact that Oliver was still suppressing the shadow was a miracle.

Whether or not the shadow could stop the Pied Piper was unknown, but without it, Oliver would be defenseless.

In short, suppressing the shadow right now was tantamount to suicide.

Oliver knew this as well, yet he continued to hold down his shadow.

It was evident that Oliver had something more important than his life to protect.

Step.

The Pied Piper approached the exhausted and collapsed Oliver.

He was now close enough that he could crush Oliver’s head with a single stomp.

But instead of doing that, the Pied Piper looked off into the distance and spoke.

“Why go to such lengths?”

A vague question that left plenty of room for interpretation.

Oliver interpreted it in a way that suited him and answered.

Using the conversational style he learned in Randa, initially not understanding it, but now he seemed to get it.

“I am the fixer from Randa, T-District 30, Dave······. I’m just doing my job.”

Although Oliver had never been hired to protect the prince, that was the answer he gave.

A convenient excuse.

But the Pied Piper didn’t press the matter. It wasn’t crucial whether Oliver had actually taken such a job.

What mattered was how Oliver defined himself.

A fixer from Randa, T-District 30.

A man who rose to prominence like a comet, quickly becoming a dark horse, taking down legends of the fixer world, claiming a section of the district for himself, and attempting to establish his school within the Tower of Magic.

That’s how Oliver defined himself.

“Ridiculous. Knowing your blood is special, suppressing your shadow, and yet you introduce yourself so modestly.”

The Pied Piper responded to Oliver’s answer. Though his voice was overall indifferent, it carried a hint of emotion.

Sympathy and pity.

The Pied Piper showed emotions towards Oliver, who was battered and worn out like an old and worn-out toy.

The pain Oliver felt from the Pied Piper’s reaction was greater than from the fists he had just taken moments ago.

“Huff······. Huff······.”

As the pain from the punches welled up, Oliver gasped for breath.

The Pied Piper quietly stared at Oliver with eyes as hard as stone, then tilted his head slightly.

Silence fell between them, and after a moment, the Pied Piper started to move again.

For some unknowable reason, he seemed to have given up on attacking.

Oliver reached out and grabbed the Pied Piper’s ankle.

“Let go.”

“Where are you going?”

Barely able to breathe, Oliver questioned.

The Pied Piper answered.

“To work······. I believe in keeping promises.”

Oliver could guess what that meant. The Pied Piper’s target from the start had been none other than Prince Albert.

“Was it Puppet’s order?”

“Does it matter?”

The Pied Piper casually shook off Oliver’s grip with a slight movement of his foot.

“You do what’s needed and get what you want in return. It’s that simple.”

Oliver desperately lifted his head to look at the Pied Piper.

He raised both hands and gave a slight wave, as if casting something off.

Privately, he was curious, but Oliver brought up a more pressing matter.

“Regardless of the job, how could you use such power to kidnap a child?”

Partly to buy time, but also out of genuine disbelief.

Though different in nature from Merlin or the Burned One, Oliver sensed that the Pied Piper possessed a power on a different level.

An indefinable sense, like encountering a being from another dimension.

Yet, with such power, he was kidnapping a child. Oliver couldn’t understand it.

The Pied Piper’s response to Oliver’s question was unexpected.

“Ha······. Ha, ha.”

He laughed.

A very low, eerie laugh.

Ordinary, yet far from ordinary.

Mocking morality, ethics, law, conviction, courage, humanity—everything.

A deep sense of déjà vu.

The Pied Piper didn’t explain why he laughed. He acted as if there was no need to.

Instead, he explained the reason for abducting and abandoning children in the forest.

“It’s work, yes, but it’s also personal······. It’s my only joy.”

The Pied Piper said, mentioning how abandoning children in the forest was the only pleasure in his life. But then he corrected himself.

“No. It’s more like a painkiller.”

Pleasure. The enjoyment or fun one feels in life.

Painkiller. A medicine used to alleviate or remove pain.

Through these two different concepts, Oliver instinctively understood both the actions of the Pied Piper and their underlying cause.

Realizing this to some extent, Oliver closed his eyes.

Not because of fatigue or pain.

The reason Oliver closed his eyes was because he felt a slight empathy with the Pied Piper.

Oliver, usually numb to other people’s emotions, now understood and even sympathized with the Pied Piper’s words.

Oliver opened his mouth, struggling but carefully.

“······But even so—”

-Thud!

Before he could finish his sentence, the Pied Piper grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up.

The calm, emotionless Pied Piper now showed anger towards Oliver.

“You shouldn’t say things like that carelessly.”

“······Kgh.”

“You have no idea what it’s like to have your world shatter, do you? And you wouldn’t want to know. That’s why you calmed your shadow.”

The Pied Piper tightened his grip. Oliver’s breath nearly stopped, but his hearing was still sharp.

“I’m not mocking you. Now it may seem foolish, but I get it. I once thought the same, that ignoring it would make things better.”

The usually indifferent and detached voice of the Pied Piper now carried the slightest trace of emotion, tinged with sadness.

“So, you need to be more careful. Your world hasn’t shattered yet. Unless······.”

The Pied Piper paused for a moment and then spoke again.

“······Should I shatter it for you?”

━Shwing

Just as the Pied Piper finished speaking, Oliver suddenly raised his left hand.

Along with this motion, the hand that held Oliver aloft released him, and Oliver dropped to the ground with a faint scratch on the Pied Piper’s hand.

A very shallow wound that caused drops of blood to emerge, and the Pied Piper’s eyes widened.

His eyes shone with interest.

Oliver’s vision blurred, threatening to fade away.

Just as his consciousness began to slip, Oliver aimed a newly formed blood-red dagger at the Pied Piper. The dagger was made from Oliver’s blood and anger.

“My real name is Oliver······. An orphan, a mine worker who was lucky enough to learn Dark Magic, became fixer Dave, and then became Xenon of the Tower of Magic······. Just a lucky person.”

“······.”

“Just a lucky person······. That’s how I define myself. So, if you want to continue with your work, you should start by dealing with me.”

Even at the brink of collapse, Oliver defined himself.

For the first time, Oliver, who always accepted everything, declared his will clearly.

The Pied Piper recognized that Oliver was risking his life.

It was truly ironic.

Risking his life to protect the prince, while ignoring the most straightforward method.

Altruism and selfishness. Two contrasting concepts were mixed together, like two sides of a coin.

Indeed, this wasn’t a matter that could be approached with concepts like reason or rationality.

The Pied Piper himself had once gone through such a time.

Ha. Ha. Ha······.

As Oliver panted with a barely audible breath, the Pied Piper spoke.

“How about a deal? You value keeping promises too, right?”

Oliver showed a reaction. Without hesitation, the Pied Piper declared that if Oliver met his demand, he would abandon chasing the prince and withdraw.

By a twist of fate, what the Pied Piper wanted was something Oliver also desired.

To be left alone.

Such a good condition offered out of nowhere. Yet, there didn’t seem to be any trap.

Just before Oliver lost consciousness, he nodded and then collapsed.

The Pied Piper looked down at the fallen Oliver for a moment and then called out to the empty air.

“Why don’t you come out now?”