Bab 18: Bad Luck

After fleeing that place, Alex bolted toward the village. He cut a long, winding path through the trees, sprinting faster than he'd ever thought possible. His legs pumped like pistons, the forest a blur around him, yet he didn't channel a single spark of magic to aid his speed.

"If I use my magic now, I'll be defenseless," he muttered under his breath, fists clenched as he pushed forward. "Screw that promise—I don't care anymore. I just want to survive. Who cares about saving a village or that woman? All I want is to go back to my world."

As he spoke, he veered away from the village, shifting his path northeast. He took a wide detour around the outskirts, moving farther and farther away from the village as he skirted past it. His breath was labored, every muscle in his body aching as he pushed forward. Finally, when he spotted a lake ahead, he slowed, eager to quench his parched throat.

But just as he was about to kneel beside the water, his gaze snagged on a figure beneath a nearby tree. It was a girl, lying motionless with faint scratches and deeper bruises marking her pale skin. Her face was smudged with dirt, and her clothes were torn in places, revealing the extent of her injuries. She was unconscious, her chest barely rising with shallow breaths.

"I fu*king knew it," he muttered, clenching his fists. "It wasn't just a few beasts; there'll definitely be more of them closing in around this village." His eyes darted to the lake, then back to the unconscious girl under the tree. "Forget about her. I'll drink some water and get the hell out of here."

As he thought about his plans, he crouched by the lake and drank quickly, gulping down the cool water to ease his dry throat. But as he was drinking, he noticed something—a large, dark shadow forming in the water's reflection. It drifted slowly, creeping closer to him, inch by inch.

Alex sprang back from the lake as fast as he could. The moment he moved, a colossal croc erupted from the water, landing with a bone-rattling crash on the ground. Its rough, scaly skin glistened under the faint light, each movement sending tremors through the earth. This was the Swamp Croc—a water-element beast. It looked exactly like the creature he had seen at the cliff battle with the three beasts.

Seeing another one here, of the same deadly species, didn't surprise Alex. There were many types of beasts like these, so it wasn't the exact same one he had seen before.

"I knew it, I knew it—I fu*king knew it," he muttered, teeth clenched. "My luck is terrible, downright cursed. But thinking about that won't help me now. I've got to get out of here."

As he was about to sprint away, he suddenly felt an unseen force pulling him in the opposite direction, dragging him back toward the girl under the tree. He had no idea why this was happening, but he didn't resist—it might actually help him get out of there faster. But as he came to an abrupt halt, he found himself face-to-face with the unconscious girl. His eyes widened in shock when he recognized her. It was Lyra.

"What the fu*k is she doing here?" he muttered, barely able to believe his eyes. He tried to run, but it was pointless—the same strange pull dragged him back toward her. He had no idea why. His only option was to take her with him; otherwise, he knew he'd end up as croc bait.

With a resigned sigh, he lifted her, holding her in his arms like he was carrying a princess. But then a wild idea sparked in his mind, one that would turn this supposedly romantic moment on its head.

"Something keeps pulling me toward her every time," he thought aloud. "I try to run, but the pull's always faster. So, what if I throw her far away? If I get pulled toward her, it'll be easier to escape from here."

Using wind magic, since it required minimal energy to throw things, he prepared to toss her. She might be human, but he didn't care—his priority was survival, not some forced romantic scene with anyone other than his girlfriend. Without a second thought, he activated his wind magic, letting it lift her up before flinging her through the air.

"Well, now that's a homerun—straight into the sky," he chuckled to himself. Just as he thought that, the pull kicked in again, yanking him toward the sky in the direction Lyra had gone flying. Fear wasn't an issue anymore; if this had happened before he'd come to this world, he might've panicked. But now, he was used to the danger, even the bloodshed and ghastly situations he'd encountered here. Maybe that's why these kinds of wild ideas came so naturally to him now.

As he flew into the sky, the croc could only watch him before slinking back into the river—it had no wings, no way to follow. But he remained cautious, knowing not to underestimate his own streak of bad luck. Experiences like this had taught him to stay alert, no matter how safe things seemed.

As he scanned his surroundings, his eyes caught sight of a group of large birds circling nearby. They had sharp beaks and long, pointed feathers—clearly not the kind to ignore. They were coming straight toward him, and he knew he'd be done for if he didn't move fast. Using the last bit of wind magic left on Lyra, he increased the distance between them. As the gap grew, his speed toward Lyra picked up, allowing him to reach her almost faster than the birds could keep up.

"I still don't understand why I'm being pulled toward her, but right now, I'm just glad for it. Thanks to her, I might actually make it out of here alive. Once I'm free of this mess, I'll make sure to get her something good to eat. She deserves that, at least."