He Who Walks the Grave

Pain.

Kazuya gasped for air, his body convulsing as he felt the damp earth beneath him once again. The bright blue sky stretched endlessly above, the rustling of leaves whispering in the breeze. The same dirt road. The same aching limbs. The same nightmare.

"No… no, no, no, NO!"

He clutched his head, his mind racing. He had died. He had felt the cold steel of the axe. He had heard the sickening crunch as his skull split apart. And yet… here he was. Again.

His breath came in ragged gasps. This had to be a dream, right? A delusion? But the pain was real. The hunger in his gut was real. And worst of all, the dread creeping through his veins was real.

"No way… I…"

But before he could process it further, the voice called out again.

"Oi! You there!"

The armored man. The same knight from before. Kazuya turned toward him in horror, his mind a whirlpool of confusion. He had already lived this moment. Every detail played out the same. The wooden cart, the weary horses, the suspicious glare. The knight's words echoed like a haunting déjà vu.

He had returned.

He tried to stay calm, to answer the knight as normally as possible, but his voice shook.

"I… I don't know where I am."

The knight sighed, just like before. "The outskirts of Eldora. You lost, peasant?"

Peasant. The same insult. The same patronizing tone.

This is real, Kazuya thought, swallowing hard. This is happening.

A sickening realization set in. If he had truly returned, then… would it happen again? 

His stomach twisted. He had to try something different. This time, he needed a plan.

The market square loomed before him once again, its chaotic noise pressing in from all sides. His stomach growled. He knew what was coming next. The hunger. The desperate need. The mistake.

He clenched his fists. No stealing. He would not make the same mistake twice.

He needed money. He needed a way to survive without ending up back at that cursed executioner's block. He approached a few merchants, trying to speak, to ask for help, but each one dismissed him. A few laughed in his face. Others ignored him entirely.

Hours passed. The hunger clawed at him like a beast. He had no choice.

His hand darted out, snatching a loaf of bread.

"Oi! Thief!"

His heart sank.

The grip on his wrist was just as strong as before. The same guards. The same beating. The same merciless crowd watched as he was dragged through the streets. He screamed this time, thrashed, and begged for mercy, but it didn't matter.

The axe came down.

Darkness.

Pain.

Bright blue sky.

The scent of damp earth.

Kazuya gasped, his fingers clawing into the dirt as he choked on a scream. He was back again. The knight's voice echoed behind him, unchanged.

"Oi! You there!"

"No…" His voice cracked. His body trembled violently. "No, no, no! Not again!"

He scrambled to his feet, sprinting in the opposite direction. He had to escape. He had to break the cycle. But where could he go? Where could he run when the entire world seemed to conspire against him?

He reached the town again. His stomach twisted with hunger.

He fought it. He refused to steal. He refused to get caught again. He searched desperately for another way—any way—to survive.

And yet, it always ended the same.

He was caught trying to work without a permit. He was accused of loitering in the wrong place. He was mistaken for a criminal and dragged to the execution block. He was trampled by a carriage while running away.

Each time, he learned something new. He tried different paths and spoke to different people, but nothing changed the result. The first few deaths had been pure terror. Now, they were becoming exhausting.

How many times had it been now? Five? Ten? A hundred? Time blurred together in an indistinguishable nightmare. No matter what he did, no matter how he fought, he always ended up here. Back at the beginning. Back to where it all started.

Lying on the dirt road, staring up at the sky, knowing he would die again.

"…Somebody…"

Tears streamed down his face, his voice barely a whisper.

"Somebody… help me…"

Then, a shadow appeared before him, blocking out the sun. A delicate voice, soft yet tinged with amusement, reached his ears.

"You look pathetic."

Kazuya's eyes widened. Standing before him was a girl—long, flowing black hair cascading down her shoulders, striking crimson eyes filled with something unreadable. She was beautiful, but there was an edge to her presence, something sharp beneath the surface.

She resembled the girl in chains—but she wasn't her.

He blinked, his breath hitching.

"You… who are you?"

She smirked, kneeling beside him, resting her chin in her hand as she studied him like he was an interesting puzzle. "More importantly, who are you? And why do you look like you've just seen a ghost?"

His body trembled under her gaze. Was she real? Was she part of the cycle? Or… was she the key to escaping it?

Kazuya stared at her, his mind reeling, his heart pounding. For the first time since this nightmare began, he felt something new.

Hope. Or maybe… something far more dangerous.