ISEKAI? More like I See Crap!
Chapter 258: Memories in the Dust ( 258 )
CHAPTER 258: MEMORIES IN THE DUST ( 258 )
[Flashback – Long Ago]
"Ridan!!"
He winced and briefly turned his head, but he didn’t stop walking. The long stone corridor echoed with Syaria’s footsteps—quick, light, and kind of annoying.
"Ugh... what now?" he groaned.
His robes fluttered behind him, and dust rose with each step. Under one arm, he carried a thick spellbook, and his other hand was faintly glowing from leftover magic.
By then, everyone knew that Ridan was the strongest wizard.
But even he... couldn’t stop Syaria.
She caught up and practically bounced beside him. Her long silver hair flowed like a veil in the breeze. "Come on! We’re a couple now, right?"
"Yeah, so?" Ridan answered without looking at her, sounding as bored as ever.
"So why do you think couples don’t need to hold hands when they walk together!?"
Ridan paused.
Then, he turned fully to face her, raising one eyebrow. "Because I need this hand to cast spells. Or burn things. Or toss people off cliffs."
Syaria pouted and crossed her arms under her priestess robe. Her staff made a soft thumping sound against the floor.
"Don’t say that!"
"I chose you, you know!" she shot back. "I had noble suitors! Elven archers! Even a paladin with glowing abs!"
"And yet, you picked the guy who reads books in the dark and smells like ash," Ridan muttered.
"Because you’re worth it, you stupid fireball machine!" she huffed.
Ridan looked away and scratched the back of his head.
"...You talk too much."
"And you act like holding hands will drain your magic!"
Ridan muttered something under his breath. After a moment, he slowly reached out with his free hand—just a little.
Syaria blinked.
He didn’t look at her, but his hand was there. Open. Hesitant.
Her face lit up.
Without waiting, she slid her fingers into his.
"...Happy now?" he muttered.
"Very," she said with a proud grin.
"You’re annoying, Syaria."
"Huh? What did you say, Ridan?" Syaria smiled sweetly, tilting her head—graceful, calm... and clearly planning something.
"Ow—ow! OW!!" Ridan winced as she pinched his side with surprisingly strong priestess strength, her fingers digging in like divine tongs. "You’re doing that thing again—smiling while hurting me!"
"That’s what you get for ignoring me during the walk. And for focusing too much on magic study."
"It’s important!" Ridan scowled, rubbing his side. "We’re both in the hero’s party. We need to get stronger. Especially to stop that idiot from getting us all killed."
"Which idiot?" she asked innocently, her eyes sparkling.
"The hero," Ridan groaned. "That fool only cares about gaining experience and hunting monsters. He doesn’t plan, doesn’t strategize. He just swings his sword and yells something about fate every time we face a boss."
Syaria giggled. "Sounds like someone’s mad they weren’t named the Chosen One."
"I’d hate to be the chosen one," Ridan murmured. "Too many speeches. Too many expectations. I’m happy being the genius mage who keeps the real idiots alive."
She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "And I’m happy being the priestess who keeps the genius from overworking himself."
Ridan sighed, his expression hardening as he stopped in the corridor. The flickering torchlight cast shadows on his face.
"...Syaria."
She turned to him, sensing that he was serious now. "Hmm?"
"That damn bastard..." Ridan muttered. "He doesn’t care about saving people."
Syaria’s smile disappeared.
"All he cares about is leveling up," Ridan continued, voice steady but tense. "Fighting monsters, raising his stats, chasing after more power. He doesn’t even see the people anymore. He doesn’t care who’s behind the walls when he throws his next firestorm."
Syaria didn’t say anything.
Because she knew.
Just a few days ago, they had been sent with the whole party to protect a small border town that was under attack by a wave of monsters. The situation had been terrible—monsters pouring in from the hills, civilians trapped inside their homes, fires spreading everywhere.
And yet...
The "hero" had just laughed. Roared some nonsense about destroying evil. Then he cast a huge area-of-effect spell that tore through the monsters—and the town along with them.
Houses collapsed. Civilians were caught in the blasts. There was screaming, smoke, and silence afterwards.
Syaria had healed what she could. Ridan had almost collapsed from trying to control the magic’s backlash.
And the hero?
He just grinned, leveled up, and checked his stats.
No remorse. No hesitation.
Just grinding, grinding, grinding.
Ridan clenched his fist. "We call him a hero, but he doesn’t lead. Doesn’t protect. He just wants to stand above everyone else."
"...I know," Syaria said quietly, her earlier lightness completely gone.
Ridan looked at her with sharp eyes. "We need to be ready."
"For what?" she asked.
He turned back down the hall.
"For when he finally crosses a line we can’t ignore."
Back in the present moment.
Ridan stayed quiet, floating in the air.
The desert stretched out endlessly in front of him.
The fire behind him crackled softly, casting gentle shadows over Hazuki, who was lying sprawled on the sand.
There he was, arms and legs thrown in all directions, snoring softly on the sand as if it was the softest bed in the world.
"...How is that comfortable," Ridan muttered quietly.
Then, something changed.
A faint buzzing touched the edge of his senses—not magic, not wind. Something else. Something familiar.
His expression hardened.
Without saying a word, he floated away from Hazuki—carefully and slowly—heading toward a spot beyond the firelight.
There, standing under a broken part of the sand dune, were two figures hidden in shadows.
They waited silently.
"You two again," Ridan said, stopping a few steps away, arms crossed.
One of the men—older, a little hunched over, eyes hidden under a hood—nodded once. "Ridan."
He answered flatly. "What?"
The other man, younger, holding a small pipe that flicked with smoke, stepped forward. His tone was calm, casual, almost lazy.
"Tomorrow, when he wakes up... guide him straight."
Ridan’s eyes narrowed.
"No detours. No tricks," the younger man continued. "You and him will pass through the portal we leave. It’ll drop you both near the next town."
Ridan didn’t say anything.
The younger man blew out some smoke into the wind. "If we hadn’t stepped in, you two would’ve wandered this desert for... what, a month? Maybe two?"
Ridan let out a heavy sigh, his dark mist flickering faintly over the sand.
"...Fine," he muttered. "I’ll guide him."
"Good," the older man replied simply.
The younger one turned away, flicking his pipe once more before it went silent.
Neither of them said another word.
They disappeared into the night, shadows folding around them like they were never there.
Ridan floated in place for a moment longer, then slowly turned back toward the fire.
"...Lazy bastard better be grateful," he muttered, glancing once more at Hazuki—still sleeping, his face half-covered in his own sleeve.
Ridan smiled quietly to himself.
At least this one...
Wasn’t like that hero from a thousand years ago.
The one who betrayed him.
The one who killed him.
The one who sealed his soul deep inside that cold, forgotten cave.
That bastard.
Ridan’s eyes narrowed.
Then he looked back at Hazuki—still sleeping, still sprawled out, still as carefree and silly as ever.
And yet...
At least this one only cares about one thing.
Marrying Ellyn.
And having lots of children.
Ridan’s smile returned, gentle and a little crooked.
"...What a fool," he whispered.
Then he floated higher, returning to his quiet watch under the stars.
The next morning.
A faint orange light spread over the dunes as the desert woke up under the rising sun. The air was still cool, the fire long gone, and Hazuki—
Still asleep.
Lying on the sand like a piece of roadkill. One arm was over his face, and his leg twitched every few seconds like he was in the middle of a dream fight.
Ridan hovered nearby, arms crossed.
"...Hazuki."
No answer.
"Hazuki."
Still nothing. Just a louder snore.
"...Hazuki!!!"
Hazuki let out a noise and rolled over, hugging his rolled-up cloak tighter like a pillow.
Ridan floated down, muttering under his breath.
"This guy’s really hard to wake up..."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Then he smirked.
"Oh well. You asked for this."
A faint shimmering flickered around him as he cast a simple illusion spell. His smoky shape wobbled a little, then—
Ellyn’s voice. Sweet, soft, but with a teasing edge.
"Uncle~ Do you want to see me undress~?"
Hazuki jolted straight up.
He sat up suddenly, eyes wide in panic. "What—huh!?"
He looked left, then right. "Ellyn!?"
"Uncle~" came the teasing voice again, sweet and giggly.
Hazuki spun around quickly—and saw Ridan floating smugly, still cloaked in shimmering magic, copying Ellyn’s tone perfectly.
"Ahh~ Uncle~ pervert~!"
"...YOU SON OF A—!!" Hazuki shouted, grabbing a handful of sand and throwing it straight at him.
Ridan zipped upward, laughing.
"You should’ve seen your face!"
Hazuki scowled, cheeks turning red. "Don’t use that voice! I almost had a heart attack!"
"Alright, you’re up." Ridan smirked. "Channel your mana into your sword. Use Elemental Control: Water and wash your face."
"Yeah yeah, whatever..." Hazuki muttered
He closed his eyes briefly, focused, and channeled mana into the blade.
With a low hum, the sword shimmered—water began to drip steadily from the edge like a cracked pipe. Cool, clear, and slightly metallic-smelling.
Hazuki cupped his hands and splashed it onto his face.
"...Man," he grumbled, rubbing his cheeks, "I want to wash myself completely clean. Get all this sand outta my back."
A few more splashes, a brief shake of his head, and he exhaled deeply.
Then looked up at Ridan, still hovering lazily above him.
"So? Where to now?"
Ridan floated into a slow circle, arms folded behind his head.
He smirked. "Just follow me... if you want to get out of this damn desert."
Hazuki narrowed his eyes. "That sounds vague and suspicious."
"Trust me."
Hazuki let out a long sigh, pulled his sword free from the sand, and slung his gear over one shoulder.
"...Fine."
He took one last glance at the empty dunes behind him—then followed the floating spirit forward.
( End Of Chapter )