The monster let out a low wail as the commanding hymn from Amon penetrated its core via the chain lodged into it.

Xidriel only stared at Amon’s back in bewilderment, recognizing the hymn he used as a last prayer for the departed since the original Xidriel had heard it twice in his life: the death of his grandmother when he was fifteen, and the death of his closest friend at seventeen.

How could a religious hymn help in their situation?

The answer soon presented itself to him. The chain glowed as if moonlight had wrapped around it, illuminating the inside of the monster’s mouth.

They heard a defiant gurgle of sound as the monster visibly weakened, its movement becoming sluggish. Its open maw slowly closed until it resembled back to being the young boy that Xidriel knew, sitting on the bed with a blank expression and his head hanging low, with his shirt torn open.

He saw that the chain, once inside the monster’s mouth, now sticks out of its chest and Amon unceremoniously yanks it free. The chain then shimmered before becoming a silver bracelet, connected to a cross with a tiny moonstone embedded in the middle of it.

The hole it left didn’t spurt any blood or flesh, and instead black ooze moved about to patch it close.

Seriously, what kind of world did he end up in for such monsters and power to exist?

The memories he inherited from the original did not provide anything about any of this!

Xidriel opened his mouth, his voice quivering. “What…what the hell is going on?”

Amon briefly glanced back at him as he walked up to the ‘boy’, covering its eyes to close it and placed a hand over its neck for a few moments before pushing ‘him’ back down onto the bed, covering its exposed chest with the blanket.

“I’ve told you, it’s a homunculus.” Amon replied before turning to look at Xidriel, eyeing his overall condition.

He frowned when he noticed the mangled state of Xidriel’s left arm. “Normally, I’d be pissed and interrogate you all night long about how you managed to awaken a dormant vessel or break the seal I’ve placed on it, but I’ll let it slide for once. I’m honestly more impressed by your survival rate.”

Amon knelt down and gently touched Xidriel’s arm, examining it carefully. “Oh, this is beyond my current capabilities. I don’t think I can help you with this one. At best, we might have to amputate your arm…”

Xidriel only ogled at him, wanting to scream at him for acting too calm as if what had transpired was normal. Yet he held back his tongue when he noticed the strange look in Amon’s eyes.

Seeing him up close, Xidriel noticed the subtle differences from the man he had dinner with earlier and the man inspecting his arm.

They were cold and distant, yet it has an ethereal touch to it.

The Amon he had eaten dinner with had a hint of warmth and playfulness about him while the man before him exudes the vibe of a professional hunter and it’s somewhat baffling.

Swallowing tightly, Xidriel mustered up his courage to ask him again. “Is…is it dead…?”

“Hm? No. My duty is subjugation, not eradication. I’m not going to waste effort on something beyond my duties.”

“What a terrible mindset. Is that why you left me to deal with the investigation and fight off those Crimson Knights?” A gentle and soothing voice said from the doorway.

Amon froze upon hearing it and he slowly looked up towards the door, with Xidriel following suit.

A tall man with a slender build stood there, lazily removing his green cloak to reveal a nondescript long sleeved shirt with a light brown striped vest over it, black pants and thick, dirty boots underneath it.

His hair was fair and golden, with clear blue eyes, and a face perfectly made for a fairy tale prince that not even the mud and dust could hide.

He was also glaring at Amon as he took a step into the room.

“I knew you’d make it back safe and sound, Lan…haha…”

“You also did a sloppy job downstairs. What if someone came in and saw them before I did? People might jump to conclusions that sorcery is being used.”

Amon flinched and opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, admitting his mistake quietly.

Meanwhile, Xidriel gaped at the two of them, his imagination going wild on what the newcomer, named Lan, meant about what Amon did downstairs.

He hunched up his shoulders defensively when those clear blue eyes shifted from Amon then settled on him.

When they locked eyes, the fair headed man only stopped in his tracks, and his expression turned into that of a surprise.

“Young master Xidriel? What…why are you…how…?” He stammered as he did a quick look over his physical condition.

He dropped his cloak upon seeing Xidriel’s left arm.  He rushed over, pushing Amon out of the way as he knelt down next to Xidriel, his hands hovering inches above the broken arm.

“The bones are crushed, the tissues and nerves are severed…how are you not in absolute pain? How are you not bleeding all over the place…?”

Amon picked himself up, brushing off the dirt off his pants and nonchalantly said, “Oh, he’s actually that Xidriel? I thought he was an abandoned look-alike…”

“How could you not recognize him?”

“I’m a bastard child. I have no need to memorize the names and faces of noble children since I outsource my wares to other merchants.” Amon shrugged.

“That’s hardly an excu—”

“Anyway, he managed to set off a baby homunculus and got his arm broken like that. Honestly, I feel like the Gods are showing favorites with the amount of luck he has in regards to escaping with his life.”

Xidriel turned his head to glare at Amon, pushing aside the fact that he got recognized by someone he has no memory of.

The Gods certainly do not favor him, with the amount of shit he has to deal with upon his arrival in this world, with no clue of what’s going on or what he has to do after being brought over. But he can’t say that out loud, right?

No one would believe he’s a different Xidriel to the one they knew.

Amon pointedly ignored Lan’s withering look in his direction and instead, focused on the glare Xidriel was giving him, making him raise an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“You came two seconds too late.” Xidriel spat at him, slightly annoyed. “The serving girl was eaten by that…thing…”

“Oh…” Amon said softly as he closed his eyes in despair.

Lan clicked his tongue as he helped Xidriel back onto his feet, escorting him to the right-most bed, far from the sleeping ‘boy’.

“You’re making lots of rookie mistakes, Amon.” Lan said as he rolled his sleeves up. “This won’t reflect well on the reports once we get back to the headquarters.”

“I know. I won’t hear the end of it from the others…” Amon groaned. “I don’t even know what got into me…”

Xidriel knitted his brows together, getting the feeling that these two are not bothered by the sleeping ‘boy’ being in their vicinity nor the apparent danger it poses towards the villagers if it awakens once more.

The life or death ordeal he had gone through may not have lasted more than three minutes, but aren’t they a little too…blasé about the situation?