Zuzia continues to try to pound on the ‘floor’ around her. She can move and navigate, but there’s nowhere to move or navigate to. She’s in some kind of strange void, and there is a lot of random junk around her, from statues, piles of gold and jewels, a carriage, and people that are frozen in place. The ‘terrain’, if it can be called that, is completely sterile. She feels like she’s in one of those strange, endless voids that sometimes appears in shows or movies, fading into the distance with a ‘sky’ that is blank and colorless.

She approaches the carriage and checks inside. There’s nothing inside, but it’s extremely luxurious, as far as she can tell. It’s large inside, with a lounge-like curved seat, fruits and berries, cakes, and utensils made of gold. Even the goblet on the windowsill of the huge vehicle is encrusted with jewels and made of solid gold, by appearances.

“Ooohh. So, Mr. Elf is the magic porter of that blonde dupek who seemed to be in charge, huh? Well then, Mr. Elf, looks like you’re going to be fired.”

She rears back and punches as hard as she can. Her fist bounces off of the carriage, and she yelps, “Gah! Fak-kyu! (A/N 1)”

Nothing happens to the carriage, and it doesn’t even have a dent.

Having been trapped in this void for what feels like a few days now, though she has no indication of time passing other than her watch, Zuzia already knows there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do.

So, when the carriage ends up without even a scratch, she takes this as an affront.

“Oh ho! Is that a challenge!? An invincible carriage? Well, you have never seen me when I put my mind to something!” She rolls her already-short tee shirt sleeves up to her shoulders, rolling her neck and shoulders in preparation for another attempt. She hops, pumping herself up. “Challenge accepted, inanimate object! Take this!”

She steps into the hardest kick she can manage, aiming for the glass window.

Again, her strike deflects harmlessly off of the carriage, and Zuzia loses her balance, crying out in surprise as she flops onto her butt unexpectedly. “Woah~! Oof!”

Zuzia remains sprawled on the false ground for a moment, feeling defeated already.

No. If ever I were to be close to being an anime mega-warrior capable of vaporizing planets, this would be it.

She curls back, planting her hands on the ground by her head as she suspends her back and legs in the air. The backpacker springs upwards to launch herself acrobatically to her feet.

“You haven’t even seen my final burning hand!” declares the brunette loudly. She hops back a step before whirling into the best crescent kick her amateur body can manage.

Again, she bounces off of the carriage in a backwards roll.

Still determined not to give up, she sits in a superhero-landing crouch. “I see. You have chosen… Death.”

Zuzia takes a breath, jogging away from the carriage several yards. She gets into a runner’s take-off stance, and rocks her legs and arms back and forth in the posture, making sure she still isn’t in pain.

The fight so far against her nemesis has proven to be no more painful than her goofing around in an inflatable bounce-house. Her topples and impacts register, but they don’t really hurt. She’s not sure if she can be hurt anymore, but all the better to test her limits when she’s stuck in this place where she can’t seem to reach Amalaskae, her phone won’t appear, and her only supplies are what she has on her person. It doesn’t seem like time is passing, since she hasn’t really gotten hungry or thirsty since being trapped by the elf, but she has been pacing herself and making sure she keeps eating all the same.

With an appropriate distance, the Polish heroine sprints towards the carriage, and she leaps with her legs towards the vehicle, curled in close. At exactly the right distance, she spears her heels forward in the most powerful, full-force drop kick she can manage.

SCREE~!

A loud shrieking sound echoes through the void from Zuzia’s attack, but she still bounces off under her own force, tumbling in a hapless roll across the ground while she exclaims, “Agh-glblblblblbblbleh…” This time, lies on her back for a long time. “Fine… You win this round, carriage. But, next time…”

“Having fun?”

“AYEE-AH!” screams the brunette as she scrambles away from the voice that appeared above her head.

Once she can reach a crouching, spring-ready position a few meters away, she studies the source of the voice.

It’s a man with a strangely ethereal beauty that could possibly make female supermodels of Earth silent with stunning envy. His hair is a shining snow-like crystal white color that glistens, and his eyes have a silver color all but sparkling like each one reflects a pile of diamonds in his irises. He is slender, with his long hair pulled back into a rear knot that hangs the majority of his hair at the back and sides of his head behind his ears.

His staff is fairly simple, seemingly made of the limb of a tree. Though, if Zenkon truly is like the fantasy world Zuzia has seen so far, it’s probably from a World Tree or an Elder Treant or some other powerful source of natural magic.

She quickly rises to her feet, her fists up as rage fills her. “You!”

He may be far more well-kempt and full of life than the first time she encountered him, but she easily recognizes the elven sage that trapped her in this void. “Talk about opponents who have chosen death.”

Zuzia springs forward, but the elf calls out, “Please wait!” Just as her fist is about to reach him, he vanishes in a flicker, reappearing a few meters away on her left as she stumbles to a stop.

“Ohh. Magic, huh? Are we going to have to test my stamina against your mana?” She punches her right fist into her left palm with some impressive force, making a deep, meaty ‘whack’ sound that echoes pretty far. It actually surprises her a little, but she does her best to keep up her composure.

“Please wait, Zuzia. My name is Serrentuk, and I’m an elf. Yes, I am the one who captured you, but you must allow me to explain.”

“Must I?” growls the Polish woman. She subtly pulls out one of the rations she has in her back pocket. “I must eat and breathe. I must sleep. I must get out of here. And, if I must, I will kill you.”

“Please just listen. I am a slave. I have been enslaved to that wretched beast’s family since the earliest years of the Grand Zenkon Empire. What you met outside is actually only my body in one of the simplest senses.”

Zuzia nods as she hums. “Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. I see.”

“You’re… not really listening, are you?” asks the mage with exasperation evident in his otherwise sultry and elegant tone.

“My ears are hearing you, does that count?” asks the enraged brunette indignantly. She doesn’t have an ounce of trust or respect to give to him.

“Please. I am sorry that you’re in this situation, and I’m here to help you.”

“Help me? Would you suddenly trust the enemy that trapped you in an endless void and claims his body is a zombie after being kidnapped to another world by surprise and surrounded by soldiers?”

“Yes. It is not so different from how I ended up in this situation.”

“Hmm. I see,” replies Zuzia, still not really giving him any sympathy. “But, you see; an extraordinarily reliable way to escape a magic caster’s spell already exists.”

“What-...?” starts the elf, confused, before Zuzia’s arm flies from behind her back. She leans in her pitch, putting all of the force behind her throw, and a shrieking roar follows her fist.

Serrentuk has only a fraction of a second to respond, and he cries out as he stumbles, instinctively blocking with his staff as he also tries to avoid.

A supersonic energy bar rockets past him, cracking by like a bolt of lightning as it vanishes in the endless void.

His focus is broken for long enough. Even an ancient elven sage can be momentarily fooled.

Zuzia appears in front of him just as his focus is returning to the front, and her hand is closing around his magic staff. He doesn’t even have time to teleport away.

However, Zuzia’s hand passes through the staff, and her own momentum crashes her through… nothing.

She whirls as her boots slide across the featureless floor of the void. She struggles to keep her balance, but her eyes confirm what she can’t fully believe just happened.

Serrentuk is still in the same relative spot, though stumbling backwards towards Zuzia. He pivots instinctively, but the truth is already out.

“A ghost!?” asks the Polish woman sourly. “So, it’s going to be like that, huh?”

Zuzia hasn’t experimented with it much, but Amalaskae mentioned that she has an immense amount of mana, so if she puts it behind her attacks…

The elven sage looks at her, and he faces her, lowering to a kneel.

This disarms her a little. As an elf, she never expected him to kneel to a lowly human.

Admittedly, her imagination is already filled with biases from fictional versions of fantasy worlds. Between high and mighty jingoist elves to divine beings to even the mythological helpers of Saint Nicholas, Serrentuk doesn’t really fit into any of those categories.

He again apologizes, “Please, Zuzia. I am truly sorry. I swear, if you’ll hear me out, I can and will dedicate the rest of my life to helping you. It’s just… There’s a complication.”

The honey-haired brunette ponders the situation. It’s true that she doesn’t know if she can defeat him, and in light of that, she might not be able to get out of this void without his help. What’s strange is that he is helping her.

So, if he’s magically enslaved, is this supposed to be his real soul? How is it here if his body is out there? Can he really help me?

“Forgive me, but you have the gist of it.”

Zuzia grimaces as horror grips her. “D-Did you just… r-read my mind!?”

“Yes. I am sorry. In this place, and with the magic I have accumulated over my long life, that much is easy. I didn’t expect you to be able to move and live within this place, but it seems you have an unprecedented level of external magic resistance. You shouldn’t have been able to resist my spell as long as you did out there. I was genuinely stricken with awe.”

“I’ve been in here several days. How come you never checked on me before now?”

“I will be apologizing a great many times, it seems.” He looks at her with a bitter smile, offering gently, “I was hoping you would calm down and be more receptive to this conversation.”

The Polish woman crosses her arms and stares at him with a sarcastic scowl. She has never been a violent person before, but she does want to punch him.

Though, she also had her panic attack over all of the people she hurt, threw up, came to grips with her rather hopeless situation, cursed the people who are also trapped inside, but can’t move or respond, and practiced a little parkour before learning she can’t do parkour very well.

Zuzia takes a deep breath and sighs for as long as her lungs will allow her to drag out the sigh, which is a total of just shy of nine whole seconds or so. Serrentuk is patient and doesn’t make any sort of disapproving expressions.

The backpacker approaches him and offers her hand. It might be symbolic more than anything, but she doesn’t have a lot else to do than to gamble on the elf that already has her trapped.

“What do I need to know, Mr. Serrentuk?”

She can see relief wash over his weathered expression, and he takes her hand, standing up. She can’t feel anything, so it’s likely that he can interact with solid objects, even if they don’t experience his touch, or he similarly made a symbolic gesture. Whatever the case, he begins his explanation in earnest.

“As I mentioned, I am enslaved to the man you briefly fought. His name is Burgrave Nesparu pel Contarro, and he hails from a very old noble family on this continent.”

“Is his name really ‘Bulgrave’? Oh, and, just for the record, you’re throwing a lot of places and names at me. I hope there isn’t going to be a quiz.”

The elf cocks his head. Using context clues and her tone, he decides to just continue the explanation. “It will be helpful for you to learn the names to navigate and who is important in this world. While you seemed to have been heading to Mattarglos, I believe you will be safest at the Fievegal. It is very far to the west of here. If you go straight west towards the mountains, and then work your way north until you find a large castle in front of a valley, take that valley west. The next fortress you encounter should be willing to help you navigate to the Citadel specifically, or at least send word to the Fievegal. I only get parts of what’s going on when Nesparu has me present, but the Fievegal is run by a bunch of upstarts headed by a man from your world.”

“I knew that last part, but why are you jumping to my destination? I haven’t even escaped yet.”

“I am not specifically capable of letting you out of this place in this form. As it stands, I have isolated my consciousness from my body by transporting my it into the Gate that I control. This is my inherent ability that I was born with. Around you are some of the things I had gathered before I was tricked into the slave contract.”

“As powerful as you are, you were tricked into a slave contract?” asks Zuzia, a little skeptical.

“Yes. I was wounded gravely and not fluent in the language used by the Nesparu family. They told me it was a contract for payment in exchange for the healing ability. I should have known better, but I was in pain and had lost a lot of blood with no mana to even attempt to heal myself.”

“I see… Plenty of actual scumbags in this world, too, it seems.”

“I know naught of your world, but indeed, they are quite numerous here on Zenkon. As for how I hope to help you escape, Nesparu and my body are bringing you before Grand Prince Yaulander kos Strylaph, the second highest-ranking person in the Grand Zenkon Empire, which is now the second most powerful Empire on the continent, if the Demon Covenant isn’t counted as one Empire. Now that it is all but defunct, by the sounds of it, there is a power vaccuum created by forces I don’t quite understand, but whom I think the Grand Prince is in league with.”

“I’m hearing a lot of ‘hope’ and ‘think’, there, Serrentuk. You’re not giving me a lot of confidence.”

“Your escape will be almost exclusively reliant on your own power. I will be able to take control of my body for a time, but Nesparu still has control with the slave contract. I will be in excruciating pain just trying to defy whatever orders I’m given upon our arrival.”

“Do we have to arrive? What if you let me out now?”

“I’m afraid I can’t. Trying to drag you in consumed almost all of my mana, and Nesparu is riding at full speed back to Mornistae. I am afraid we will likely arrive well before my mana has recovered enough to open the gate again and let you out.”

“But, I want out. I didn’t want in. Won’t it be easier?”

“No.” He sighs. “Your antics and even simply being conscious while in here has crippled my mana recovery. I honestly wouldn’t be overly surprised if I am actually slowly losing the rest of my mana at this rate.”

“Oh… S-Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. Ironically, that somewhat leads to the request I have for you. When I am called upon to extract you, I intend to comply, but I will explicitly be making the Gate small enough that you will appear right in front of my body. They will have every powerful means of trying to control you at the ready, as they intend to put a slave device on you as well.”

Zuzia recoils. “Enslave me? They can try.”

“They’re going to. I am afraid they will be able to succeed. I don’t know how, yet, but I will tell you a secret to protecting yourself. Or at least, that will save you later.”

“You’re saying I’m going to fail to escape?”

“The challenges will be grave. And, I ask that you help me.”

“It sounds like you’re not helping me escape, really, so much as granting me the ability to attack you as soon as I’m out. I get the advantage there, but unless I kill you, your body will still be my enemy. So, what am I really supposed to get out of helping you?”

“This.” Serrentuk walks over to a mass of floating apples, and he picks one up. It begins to move, and he brings it over to Zuzia. “I will make sure you are well-fed, have plenty of water, and, I will be the only thing that can save your friends.”

Zuzia halts. Her anger returns, and she clenches her fists. He can only mean Wulfsten, Verbert, and Halkadon. “They were captured?”

“Yes. They are not within my void. And… their treatment is not… good.”

Zuzia tries to control it, but she can’t help it, and she swings her fist at the apple. It vanishes in a mist that forms a cone that spreads far into the distance before becoming invisible. “Let me out right now. I don’t care what you have to do, whose blood you have to drink. Let me out! I have to help them!”

“I told you, I can’t. Not yet. Even if I could, they don’t have your mercenaries nearby. They would be dead before you find them. But, I can save them.”

“I hate you. How?” snarls the impatient brunette.

“Once you’re free, I’ll use the last of my mana to swallow them into the Gate. Once the gate closes, which will be within seconds, you only have to kill me.”

“K-... Kill…?” Zuzia’s face drains of color, and she feels instantly nauseous. She doubles over, flopping to her hands and knees before retching onto the ground.

The elven sage watches patiently. He seems to wish he could comfort her physically, but for now, he gives her the time she needs to cope with his request.

When she has a moment of clarity, he adds gently, “Coincidentally, that happens to be the full extent of my request.”

She looks up at him with horror on her face. Her face probably looks rather green, and it’s swelling again.

Serrentuk nods gently. “You heard correctly. I have been enslaved for hundreds of years, and I have committed atrocities in the Contarro name. The only way to be free of this contract, and the last and most important advice I can give you; it must be overwritten by a more powerful contract, if the contractor refuses to break it. To do so, you must give them a stronger hold over your soul. Your true name.” He kneels down to Zuzia’s level, leaning his imaginary staff on his shoulder. “Never, ever give them your full name. If you are unable to escape and they manage to enslave you, you must

use your willpower to overcome it at the right moment and request the members of the Fievegal to override the contract with your true name. The Citadel is the most powerful place in this world, and until recently, it was unapproachable. Now, it is controlled by a merciful master; one who will use that power to free those who seek his aid. I wish to be free. And to do that, I must die.”

“But…” murmurs Zuzia wearily. She will defend herself, and she will do so with as much force is as needed, but if Serrentuk really does help her escape, that is the polar opposite of a reason she could ever accept for herself to kill someone.

“You will be granting me a mercy, Zuzia. Please… Don’t let me suffer any longer.” He hands her a leather bag. “This is a void bag. People from your world sometimes call them ‘magic bags’, I think. If you store my body in it after ending my life, the Fievegal has a potion that can revive a person shortly after death. That timeframe is short, but time doesn’t advance in a bag like this. Please, take me to the Fievegal, and if I can’t be revived, bury me in a place that gets lots of sun.” He looks up at the fake sky of the void. “I can’t remember the last time I was able to enjoy the sun.”

Zuzia remains on her hands and knees, absolutely torn.

On one hand, death is final in her world. She can’t regard it so lightly as to assume that a person she kills can just be revived. But, slavery is also a heinous atrocity. He’s asking her to endure slavery in order to try to rescue him from his own bondage… which has lasted centuries.

And, by the sounds of it, those with strong will power can resist.

Ohhh… Maybe my magic resistance will be strong enough to hold off the slave contract. But still… To kill him? To become a slave? Isn’t there anything else I can do? Agh! I forgot, he can read my mind in here!

His expression softens, indicating that he is hearing her thoughts.

“Agh! This plan is stupid! Is there no other way? It’s against my religion to just kill someone, especially if it’s not in self defense.”

“This is self-defense we’re talking about. If you do not stop me, as you said, I will be your enemy. Against my will, but I will be your foe.” Serrentuk lowers to a very low prostrating position, as if begging. “Forgive what I’m about to say, Zuzia, but… Abraham was prepared to kill his own son in cold blood out of faith in his god…”

This strikes Zuzia with horror as she stares at him. He continues, “David struck down Goliath to protect his homeland. And, Elisha set bears upon children who mocked him. Perhaps my understanding misses some of the point, but my point being… There is a time for death, even in the absence of danger. If there is mercy to be given by an overseeing god or by nature, I pray for but a single taste of that mercy now that I have suffered centuries of being a tool of evil.”

Zuzia is silent, unable to respond. She’s not an overly zealous Christian, but she holds firmly to her belief in the one and only God, and the faith that he is watching over her journey, even now.

She doesn’t expect a lightning bolt to come down and smite Serrentuk for speaking so faithlessly, and she doesn’t expect him to become a Christian if she manages to save him. The Lord on High has provided many miracles, including to Zuzia, even if she doesn’t always notice them. But, he is not a magician solving every little problem with a wave of a magic wand or a magic briefcase with answers to all her woes.

If anything, all of this is a test. It may be no coincidence that Serrentuk, a being from a whole different world that may or may not even have a concept mirroring Christianity, somehow came to know the story of Abraham, specifically, as little or as much as he might know. Even evoking the name, when she wasn’t even thinking about it, suggests some level of knowledge that he otherwise shouldn’t have.

Assuming others have come before Zuzia, which has to be true with Rikuto and Daniel having shown up a year or so ago, it’s only fair that a long-lived elf might have met others. And, since Christianity, like many of Earth’s established religions, has been around for a very long time, it’s certainly possible.

The alignment of coincidences it took for Zuzia and Serrentuk to meet are what could very easily be considered a miracle.

This might be one of the most direct signs I’ve ever experienced in my life, but that might be exactly it. So,... If I do this… Serrentuk is free, and I’ll be a prisoner. But,... If I bide my time… I’ll have an opportunity for freedom?

“The difference between you and me is that you are being searched for,” offers Serrentuk. “Rikuto is not a bad person, but has fallen victim to mounting pressures between his conflict with Daniel, which is a misunderstanding, and Yaulander taking advantage of his fear, anxiety, and desperation to bring you to this world in hopes of stealing Earth technology for himself.”

“Technology? There aren’t computers here. I was a computer sciences major and worked on websites most of the time. What the heck am I supposed to help him steal?”

Serrentuk chuckles warmly. “Perhaps that was wisdom of the Divine at work, then. Regardless, he intends to try to pry information from you. You don’t have to actually tell the truth, as long as you speak sincerely, so avoid speaking of the Divine Realm, your world, and anything else accurately. Speak at length… about fiction.”

Zuzia is feeling more and more uneasy about the immediate future, but it sounds like she’s not going to have much choice but to try to find a solution.

“Will they really be able to trap me?” asks Zuzia. If what he says is true, Zuzia was able to resist his own power almost entirely, and it was only thanks to the people who sacrificed themselves to drag her in that she actually failed to stop him.

“I don’t know for sure yet, but I was fooled. If you wish to save your friends, you will need to let me capture them, and then kill me so that they can’t be extracted. So long as my soul lingers, which will be when the potion can still revive me, all of this will remain. As long as everything goes well, you will survive.”

“I… don’t want to kill anyone against my will, though…”

“I know… But,... I do not blame my body for what happens beyond. I know it’s convenient, since this is certainly all my fault for being tricked in the first place.” The objects of the void rush by, and Zuzia stumbles from feeling a sudden sense of vertigo, like playing a VR game when the character moves but the player isn’t.

“A thousand years ago, the first head of the Contarro family had me kill this person…” Serrentuk stands before a shrouded body covered by a sheet. Zuzia doesn’t need to see under the sheet to know enough. The person has one elongated ear like his, and the stature is short; too short to be an adult.

The brunette remains reverently silent, unsure what to say or if it’s appropriate to ask.

“I… appreciate your respectful solace, Zuzia. But, I am long past a need for sympathy or condolences. What I want is for us both to end up free. When I am, I hope to bury him with his ancestors, and to commemorate him in some small way.”

Feeling an ache in her heart, but a sudden iron-clad resolve, Zuzia’s eyes water a little. She doesn’t blink it away or resist. Instead, she embraces the rising surety she finds in her next words.

“I’ll do it. And, I think I know exactly how I can protect everyone once it’s done.”

Serrentuk visibly relaxes, showing an even more full wave of relief than earlier.

“I will forever be in your debt, Zuzia.” He kneels again, leaning on his staff. His knees might’ve weakened, but he uses it regardless as a chance to pledge a vow to her.

“Free me, and I will willingly serve you for the rest of my life.” He looks up with hope in his eyes sparking anew. “Just, with a humble request for personal ventures on top of that.”

She can’t help but laugh a little, and the tears flow more freely.

She just agreed to kill someone.

And, that someone is fast becoming her fifth friend since coming to Zenkon.

She dreads her day in Judgment, but until that day comes, her instincts and her beliefs are what she has to go on.

And, she is certain she may be Serrentuk’s only chance.

***

A/N 1: A phonetic pronunciation of a colloquial ‘faq’ as it’s pronounced by Japanese vtubers (among others, I’m sure). If you know, you know peko. (Not to be confused with FAQ, as in ‘Frequently asked question’).