Chapter 91: An Abrupt Exit

Rudra made his way through the pitch-black tunnel system, his footsteps echoing softly off the damp stone walls. Every so often, low, guttural growls resonated through the shadows, instantly perking up the System.

"Ooh! Did you hear that?!" the System chimed in eagerly. "That growl sounded totally otherworldly. Maybe it’s a phantom hound! Or a poltergeist! A spectral demon beast!"

Rudra completely ignored the endless stream of ghost theories, maintaining a calm, steady pace.

Before long, the cramped passage opened into a more spacious cavern. The moment he stepped inside, a foul, overpowering stench of rotting flesh hit his nostrils. Tracing the stench, Rudra moved deeper into the cavern until the path opened up, revealing a horrific sight: dozens of decaying human corpses piled together alongside the slaughtered remains of various wild animals.

Rudra paused, gazing down at the grisly scene. "What do you think?"

The System’s playful demeanor instantly vanished, its tone turning serious. "Whatever did this... it’s definitely no ordinary animal. These aren’t clean predatory kills—it’s mindless slaughter."

Before Rudra could reply, a heavy, reverberating crash echoed from a adjacent cavern branch, followed by the sound of tearing flesh.

A faint, sharp smirk crossed Rudra’s face as he turned toward the source of the noise. "Looks like our culprit just rang the dinner bell."

Without hesitation, he made his way toward the sound.

Stepping into a lit cavern pocket, Rudra spotted the creature—a ravenous, oversized hound with jagged ice crystals jutting out from its spine, aggressively tearing into the carcass of a dead cow.

Rudra bent down, casually scooping up a small pebble from the stone floor. "There you go," he murmured internally. "There’s the magnificent ghost you were so eager to hunt."

"Don’t fuck with me," the System snapped flatly. "That thing is clearly a physical beast, not a ghost."

"Are you sure about that?" Rudra asked with a dry smirk.

"I’m one hundred percent sure."

"Well, there’s only one way to find out."

With a flick of his wrist, Rudra sent the pebble flying. Imbued with lighting chakra, the small stone hit the hound’s head like a cannonball, exploding its skull before the monster even realized he was there. The beast collapsed instantly into a lifeless heap.

Rudra tilted his head. "Huh. Guess you were right after all. Definitely not a ghost."

"I hate you," the System muttered.

Walking over to the corpse, Rudra spent a few moments examining the strange frost crystals embedded in its hide. The creature felt distantly familiar—like something he’d seen or read about somewhere before—but the memory remained just out of reach.

Deciding it wasn’t worth the headache, he turned around and followed a separate subterranean tunnel upward. A few minutes later, he pushed through a thick curtain of vines and stepped out into the crisp night air, emerging from a hidden forest cave about a mile outside the village.

Midnight had arrived, casting long, silver moonlight shadows across the quiet trees. Rudra let out a long stretch, popping his back.

"Well, another job down. Whoever was complaining about the noises won’t be bothered anymore."

The System offered no witty retort, utterly broken by the harsh reality that its ghost-hunting adventure was officially over without a single phantom in sight.

As the System sulked and quietly cursed him out in his mind, Rudra simply chuckled and enjoyed the quiet walk back to the village.

Rudra pushed open the inn door, the warm tavern noise abruptly dying into total silence. The few patrons remaining huddled over their drinks, their tense, wary eyes tracking him as he walked straight to the counter.

The tavern keeper leaned in, wringing his hands. "Did you... finish it? Is the mansion clear?"

"Done," Rudra said simply.

Relief washed over the man’s face as he reached beneath the counter and set down a heavy leather pouch of jewels. Just as Rudra reached for it, a slurred roar cut through the quiet room.

"Liar!"

A burly drunkard stumbled up to the bar, pointing a shaky finger at Rudra. "You didn’t do jack! Where’s the proof, huh? You’re just taking our gold and walking!"

Rudra didn’t even glance at him. He swept up the pouch, secured it to his belt, and turned toward the door.

Face flushing dark red, the drunk growled, "Don’t ignore me!" He lunged forward, reaching out to grab Rudra’s shoulder.

Rudra glanced back over his shoulder.

In a fraction of a second, his crimson Sharingan spun rapidly to life, locking onto the man’s eyes.

The drunkard instantly froze mid-stride. His eyes rolled back into his head, his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the wooden floor with a heavy thud.

Chaos broke out. Chairs clattered backward as patrons scrambled to the walls in terror. "He killed him!" someone shrieked.

"He’s not dead," Rudra replied, his voice dropping into a flat, icy register that cut right through the panic. "He’s asleep."

He cast one last look at the petrified tavern keeper. "If you want your proof, check the cave a mile east in the woods."

Without waiting for a response, Rudra turned and stepped out into the cool night air, leaving the tavern behind.

As he strolled down the quiet, moonlit dirt path, the System’s voice chimed in. "And where do you think you’re going?"

"The railway station, obviously," Rudra replied, stating the obvious.

"And what’s the grand plan once you get there?" the System asked dryly. "Sleep on the bench? Because newsflash: there are no trains running at this hour."

Rudra shrugged, completely unfazed. "Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, honestly."

"You just collected a bag full of jewels, and your best idea for accommodation is a wooden bench at a deserted station?" the System groaned in exasperation.

"It’s free, quiet, and I don’t have to deal with drunkards shouting at me," Rudra muttered back with a faint smirk, continuing his lazy pace toward the station platform.

Before he could take another step, a sudden ripple shattered the night sky.

Rudra stopped, tilting his head up just in time to see a bright flash of light rip open high above him. A split second later, a figure came hurtling down through the air, crashing hard into the dirt a few yards ahead in a cloud of dust and debris.

As the dust settled, the moonlight illuminated the figure lying unconscious on the ground—a young woman with striking ashen-white hair, a faint scar running down her left cheek, and wearing weathered leather armor suited for sword fighting.

Rudra stared at her for a brief second, his expression completely blank.

Without saying a word, he turned on his heel and kept walking toward the station platform. "Not my problem."

"Wait, seriously?!" the System yelped. "She literally fell out of the sky! You’re just going to walk past a falling space girl?!"

Rudra took three more steps before coming to a dead halt. He closed his eyes, let out a heavy sigh, and softly cursed under his breath. "You’ve got to be kidding me..."

Turning back around with an annoyed grumble, he walked over to the unconscious, ash-haired girl, slung her casually over his shoulder like a sack of grain, and continued his walk.

___

Groaning softly, the ash-haired girl slowly drifted back into consciousness, greeted by the crisp morning air and a dull throb behind her eyes. Sitting up, she massaged her temple, trying to piece together her scattered memories.

The last thing she remembered was the blinding frost, the terrifying shrieks of the Wild Hunt closing in, and her desperate, blind leap through a space-time rift.

Then she realized how cold her skin felt.

Glancing down, she froze. Her heavy leather armor, boots, and weapons were gone—leaving her sitting on a bed of dry leaves in nothing but her undergarments.

Her instincts flared instantly. Tensing her body, her gaze snapped around to survey her surroundings. She was in the middle of a quiet forest, sunlight filtering through the dense canopy. Just a few meters away, a young man sat casually on a fallen log beside a small, crackling campfire, turning a couple of skewered rabbits over the flames. Her leather gear and scabbard were neatly arranged over a nearby branch, drying out in the sun.

She reached instinctively for a sword that wasn’t at her hip, her green eyes narrowing into a sharp, guarded glare. "Where am I? And why am I stripped down?"

Rudra didn’t even look up from the fire. "You crashed out of the sky into a ditch full of mud and blood last night. If I hadn’t taken off your soaked gear and cleaned your cuts, you’d be freezing or infected by now."

She checked her arms, noticing clean, fresh bandages covering her wounds. She relaxed her posture slightly, though her eyes remained watchful. "...Did you touch anything else?"

"Your sword is hanging on the branch," Rudra replied flatly, turning the roast rabbit. "And no. I was busy making sure you didn’t die on my hands. Put your gear on if you’re done interrogating—breakfast is almost ready."

She stared at him for a quiet moment before letting out a slow breath. "Great. Out of the freezer and into... whatever this world is," she muttered under her breath, standing up to grab her clothes.

She pulled her gear back on, tightening the leather buckles before strapping her steel blade across her back. Fully dressed, she walked back over to the campfire.

Without looking up, Rudra handed her one of the skewers.

Taking it, she glanced at the crisp, golden meat. "Thanks."

Rudra offered a dismissive wave of his hand before taking a bite of his own food.

They ate in silence, the quiet crackle of the fire filling the morning air. As she chewed, the woman stole a few subtle glances at the stranger across from her. Hanging around her neck beneath her shirt, her Witcher medallion remained completely still—no vibrating, no hum of magic, not a single trace of monster aura reacting off him.

Just a normal guy, she concluded mentally.

Relieved that she hadn’t landed next to a sorcerer, a demon, or a trap set by the Wild Hunt, the tension slowly drained from her shoulders as she settled onto a mossy rock to enjoy the meal.

By the time they finished eating, the campfire had burned down to faint embers.

Rudra stood up, dusting off his pants. "Looks like you’ve recovered enough to manage on your own," he said, turning to face her directly for the first time.

She opened her mouth to speak, but froze.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at his face. His right eye was a crimson red, etched with black spinning patterns, while his left eye was a strange, layered purple rippled with concentric rings.

What in the world...? She suppressed her shock, her mind racing. Her medallion still hadn’t buzzed. How could someone with eyes like that radiate absolutely zero magic?

"Well, then it’s time I take my leave," Rudra continued, completely ignoring her stunned silence.

Shaking off her surprise, she cleared her throat. "Wait. I’m Ciri," she offered softly, holding out her hand before looking at him curiously. "What’s your name?"

Rudra glanced down at her extended hand, his tone remaining flat and nonchalant. "Rudra."

"Thank you, Rudra. For taking care of me."

Rudra offered a dismissive wave over his shoulder, turning on his heel to head back toward the forest path.

Watching him leave, Ciri prepared to head in her own direction—until the air temperature abruptly plummeted. An unnatural, bone-chilling frost swept through the trees, freezing the surrounding leaves in seconds. Ciri’s head snapped toward the treeline as a pitch-black portal tore open with a screeching hiss, spilling thick, icy fog into the woods.

Riding out from the abyss came skeletal warriors clad in jagged, dark iron armor, mounted on terrifying steeds.

The Wild Hunt.

Adrenaline surged through her veins. Her space-time powers flared instantly, ready to open a rift and vanish. But as she primed her jump, her gaze fell back on Rudra—the oblivious, "normal" guy walking away with his back turned.

If she left him here, Eredin’s riders would slaughter him without a second thought just for being a witness.

"Not on my watch!" Ciri gritted her teeth.

Lunging forward, she grabbed Rudra’s arm.

Rudra turned around, looking thoroughly confused. "Did you forget something—"

Before he could finish his sentence, green space-time energy enveloped them both. A rider swung a frost-imbued blade down at the empty air as, in a flash of blinding light, they vanished from the forest entirely—leaving only swirling frost behind.