A delicate gasp escaped Erina's lips, her purple-pink eyes widening in disbelief. "You… you have to cut off your hand?" Her voice, usually so composed and authoritative, now held a tremor of shock. The refined sensibilities she possessed recoiled at the sheer brutality of the task. This was a far cry from the meticulously prepared and aesthetically pleasing dishes she was accustomed to.
Riku met her gaze, his own expression surprisingly neutral. He had already processed the absurdity of the mission. "That's what the System requires," he confirmed, his tone matter-of-fact. There was no point in dwelling on the unpleasantness of it. It was a means to an end, a hurdle to overcome.
Erina stared at him, a whirlwind of emotions flickering across her beautiful face – disbelief, a hint of revulsion, and perhaps even a flicker of something akin to pity. This world, in the brief glimpse she had been afforded, was proving to be far more savage than anything she could have imagined. The nonchalant way Riku spoke of such a gruesome act was particularly unsettling.
A moment of silence hung in the dimly lit cave, broken only by the distant sound of dripping water. Erina seemed to be grappling with the reality of Riku's existence, the stark contrast between his apparent strength and the horrific demands placed upon him.
Finally, she spoke, her voice softer now, tinged with a newfound concern. "But… will it… will it heal?" The thought of such a permanent injury was clearly distressing to her.
Riku offered a small, reassuring smile. "The System mentioned that my hand will be fully recovered within an hour. So, it's not… permanent." He deliberately downplayed the pain and the psychological aspect of the act. There was no need to further alarm her.
Erina visibly relaxed, a collective sigh escaping her lips. The knowledge that it wasn't a lasting mutilation seemed to ease her immediate distress. Still, the strangeness of it all, the casual acceptance of self-harm as a 'task,' was undoubtedly unsettling.
Riku shifted his weight, breaking the lingering tension. "Alright then," he said, his tone business-like once more. "No point in delaying the inevitable. The sooner I get this done, the sooner we can head to the village." He glanced around the cave, his mind already calculating the best way to proceed. He needed a clean, sharp edge.
Riku's gaze swept across the rough, uneven walls of the cave, searching for a suitable tool. The dim light cast dancing shadows, making it difficult to discern any sharp edges amongst the natural rock formations. He briefly considered using one of the sharper pieces of stone, but the jagged edges and potential for infection made him discard that idea quickly. He needed something clean and decisive.
His hand instinctively went to his inventory, his fingers brushing against the familiar hilts of his various weapons. Igris's spectral blade could certainly do the job, its ethereal sharpness capable of slicing through almost anything. But the thought of using his loyal shadow knight for such a self-inflicted wound felt… wrong.
Then, his fingers closed around the smooth, cool metal of the Black March. The sentient sword, still a mystery in many ways, possessed an undeniable sharpness. It had severed the limbs of monstrous creatures with effortless ease. Perhaps… perhaps this was the most practical option.
He drew the Black March, its jet-black form gleaming faintly in the dim light. The needle-thin blade hummed with a subtle energy, a silent promise of its cutting power. He held it in his left hand, his right hand extended, palm up, the target of the System's bizarre requirement.
Erina watched him, her initial shock slowly giving way to a morbid curiosity. Her refined sensibilities still recoiled at the thought of self-mutilation, but she couldn't deny a strange fascination with the otherworldly nature of Riku's existence. This was a reality so far removed from her own that it bordered on the unbelievable.
Riku took a deep breath, the cool cave air filling his lungs. He focused his mind, trying to detach himself emotionally from the impending act. It was just a task, a means to an end. The pain would be temporary, the healing swift. He had endured far worse.
With a swift, decisive movement, he brought the razor-sharp edge of the Black March down across his right hand, just above the wrist.
A searing pain shot through his arm, a raw, primal agony that made him grit his teeth. Blood welled up instantly, a crimson tide staining his skin and dripping onto the cave floor. The severed hand fell limply, a grotesque object detached from his body.
Erina flinched, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment. Even though she knew it wasn't permanent, the sight was undeniably gruesome. A small gasp escaped her lips.
The pain from the self-inflicted wound was excruciating, so intense that Riku felt his consciousness slipping away. As the darkness threatened to engulf him, a new sensation pierced through the agony – a disturbance above. He and Erina were not alone.
Riku, fighting against the encroaching unconsciousness, quickly focused his will and summoned Igris. The loyal knight materialized beside him, his crimson armor gleaming in the dim light, a silent promise of protection against whatever lurked above. He needed to stay alert, for Erina's sake as well as his own.
Riku pressed the raw, exposed nerves of his severed wrist to the cold, uneven floor of the cave. Sight was useless in the dim light, and revealing themselves would be a death sentence. Even pressing an ear to the ground would sacrifice their ability to hear any sounds from above. So, he ingeniously combined these sensory inputs, using the intense nerve feedback to detect subtle vibrations traveling through the stone. Simultaneously, he strained his ears, listening for any sound from the unseen presence above. The intensity and rhythm of both the vibrations and the faint sounds painted a crude but potentially vital picture.
There was no sensation of weight shifting, no telltale tremor of movement on the ground itself. Were his senses failing him amidst the pain? No!
The absence of movement below didn't equate to an absence of threat.
"Igris, you can sense magic, right?" Riku asked, his voice a low, urgent whisper. "Tell me, can you sense any magical energy?"
'Of course, Igris is from another world, and the magic of his realm will likely be different. But there's no harm in trying,' Riku thought, a sliver of doubt flickering within him.
Igris inclined his helmeted head in a silent nod.
Alright, Riku deduced, his mind racing. There is something present that can utilize magic. The crucial detail was its lack of contact with the ground. It wasn't walking, crawling, or even fluttering its wings with enough force to create noticeable vibrations.
Based on this limited information, a profile began to form. Something small, airborne, and not propelled by conventional wings. And it possesses magic.
For a fleeting moment, the possibility of an Ex-Machina flitted through his mind, but they rarely operated alone. That left only one terrifying conclusion.
Riku gritted his teeth against the lingering pain and the chilling realization.
"Flugels." The word was a bare whisper, heavy with dread.