An Unwritten Story [LitRPG, Evil MCs]

“Elina, run. I will die soon.”

The man’s voice was a ghost of a sound, a dry rattle of a dying warrior.

He lay broken in the girl’s trembling arms, his body severed nearly to the spine by a strike that had left no room for hope. Blood spilled from the ragged ruin of his waist, flowing with the relentless pace of a river seeking the sea.

His hair, once a brilliant crown of silver, was now matted and soaked in the dark crimson of his own blood.

“Sniff… No… you can’t leave me—” The girl wept, her voice breaking into ragged sobs.

After a long, hollow stare into her tear-streaked face, his blue eyes—helpless and fading like a cold winter twilight—began to flutter shut.

The girl watched the light vanish from his gaze, her breath hitching in a series of jagged gasps until the reality of the silence settled into her bones. She pulled his cooling body into a final, desperate embrace, the blood from her own wounds freely mixing with his.

“AHHHHHHHH!”

The agonizing scream tore through the dark expanse of the cave, but there was no one left to hear it.

***

In less than an hour, the city of Cerma had been reduced to a graveyard of pulverized stone and drifting ash.

Roads that had once bustled with life were now turned into long trenches. Towering buildings had been atomized, leaving behind nothing more than piles of shattered debris. Trees, rivers, and the dreams of thousands had all been flattened in the wake of the clash between two monsters.

Noa stood amidst the smoke, a few miles away from the fallen beast. His flesh was scorched, and his legs trembled uncontrollably, his overtaxed muscles screaming in a language of exhaustion. A short distance away, the crimson dragon was fighting a losing battle against its own fading consciousness.

Thud!

THUD!

As the thick veil of dust began to settle over the ruins, their remaining strength finally evaporated. Both collapsed against the shattered earth, though their eyes remained open, tethered to the waking world by sheer stubbornness.

The Dragon King’s Roar had drained every last drop of Aether from the beast’s Aether Core, while Noa had pushed his human shell far past its breaking point. Even if he had Aether to spare, a mortal heart could only beat so fast before the rhythm inevitably failed.

Slumped on his knees in the dirt, a trail of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, Noa stared up at the mountain of crimson scales.

“Hey,” he rasped, his voice raw but carrying a crooked smile. “Do you want to join us?”

He offered the invitation bluntly, without hesitation. Noa was never one to spare his enemies, but the beast before him wasn't just an opponent—it was a mirror. He had enjoyed the fight so much that he wanted to keep the creature close. But more than the thrill of battle, it was the emotions bleeding from the beast’s eyes.

They are just like back then.

He was staring into eyes that reflected his own from four years ago—eyes brimming with a mixture of loneliness, anger, and a madness that sought to burn the world.

The dragon weakly shifted its fallen head, fighting through the pain to lock its gaze onto Noa’s face. It stared into his pitch-black sclera and the vivid purple irises nestled within them—the same hue as the attack that had nearly unmade it.

After holding his gaze for a few silent seconds, the dragon let out an exhausted huff that almost resembled a bitter smile, slowly shaking its head as its eyes began to droop.

It’ll just be like back then.

“I reject—”

“I don't care if you were cast out, rejected, or whatever the hell else,” Noa interrupted, slapping the side of his own head with a palm to keep himself awake. “Join us, and we will give you a place to be and other supplies. I don’t know the details, just ask Vionette later. Most importantly,” his smile widened into something satisfied, “you can do whatever the hell you want.”

He raised an eyebrow, a sudden sense of déjà vu washing over his mind. Well… This feels a little familiar.

The dragon looked at him, its rejection cut short by the young man who was boasting purely about his own life experience.

Maybe… I’ll try a bit more as you said, Saen. Just this once.

The dragon recalled a memory from a few months ago—a quiet moment that still felt agonizingly warm and close to its heart. Defeated, it dropped its heavy snout back to the earth with a resonant sigh.

“…Okay then,” the dragon rumbled, its voice a fading tremor that vibrated through the stones. “I accept.”

With those words, the beast succumbed to its wounds. It slipped into a deep, unprotected unconsciousness in the middle of a city, where the only other living creature was a bleeding madman.

Noa finally let gravity take him, falling flat onto his back, though he forced his eyelids to stay open. That was easy. Maybe I’ll try to act like Vionette more often.

“What are you thinking about? It’s something naughty, isn't it?”

The voice dripped with amused mockery. Noa didn’t tense or raise his guard; he couldn’t, and more importantly, he didn't need to. Because it was the one voice he wanted to hear every morning—the voice of his partner.

“…Hey. You did what you wanted to?” Noa asked, his voice muffled against the ash-covered ground.

“Yes. But,” Vionette strolled through the wasteland and crouched gracefully beside his face, her white hair drifting around her. “You look pretty bad. How embarrassing.”

She reached out, poking his bruised cheek with a playful finger.

“Well, it really was a dragon. On that note…” Noa shifted his eyes to look at her doubtfully. “Was that… really a low-class dragon?”

Vionette glanced toward the fallen beast, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly as she analyzed. “Well, the information we received did say that… but who knows.”

After Noa let out a weary sigh, she sat down on the ground. With a subtle thought, she manifested some Aether around herself, passively repelling the floating ash and dust. She folded her legs to the side in an elegant, feminine pose, allowing her white hair to spill across the ruined earth like a river of liquid silver.

She reached down, lifting Noa’s head with tenderness and resting it comfortably upon her thighs. Expanding her Aether, she enveloped his body as well, sweeping away the grime and soot, leaving him bearing only the bleeding wounds and burn marks.

“Good grief,” she murmured with a soft smile, brushing his messy black hair away from his forehead. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“Yea.” Noa closed his eyes, melting into the warmth of her care. For a fleeting moment, the blood and the ash simply didn't matter.

Examining a gash on his cheek, Vionette leaned down closer. “How much time will it take for you to heal?”

“Mmm… I don’t know. Two hours, maybe? [Minor Regeneration] just does its thing,” Noa muttered, his consciousness already slipping away into sleep.

[Minor Regeneration]? Vionette flinched, tilting her head. This idiot… he doesn’t even know—

“What… what is the meaning of this?!”

Count Fain stood a few yards away, flanked by his remaining knights. His wide eyes darted across the destroyed city, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. His brows were spread far with terror, and his shoulders were hunched under the weight of a helplessness that aged his face by a decade.

The dragon lay unconscious on the floor, and the nameless man who had somehow defeated it was napping on the woman’s thighs.

Though the evidence was scattered everywhere, Fain couldn't process how a mere human had accomplished such a feat. But what horrified him far more was the scenery itself: the city that was supposed to surround them was simply gone. Nothing but a crater of ruins remained. Not a single living civilian could be seen in the flattened streets.

Vionette turned her eyes, glaring at him with annoyance. “What? Stay silent or go away, he’s sleeping.”

“Th-the city… it’s gone!” Fain stammered, his trembling voice escalating into a desperate shout as he pointed at the devastation. “You said you would save the city when forming the contract!”

Vionette fully turned to face him, a thin, cruel smirk stretching across her features. Her eyes—those piercing crimson orbs—gleamed with a predatory light.

“What are you talking about, Fain~? When did I say that we would save the city in the contract?”

A silence fell between them—a pause that stretched into what felt like agonizing hours for the count. A cold bead of sweat formed on Fain’s cheek. His arms began to tremble as his eyes slowly widened in realization.

The shock and fear had vanished, replaced by an understanding as he remembered the exact phrasing of the Soul Contract she had presented him.

“I agree to ensure my partner defeats the dragon.”

She had never promised to kill it. She had never promised to protect a single brick, building, or human life in Cerma. She had promised only the defeat of the beast, and the ruined leviathan bleeding out a few miles away was proof that she had kept her word to the letter.

In helplessness, Fain collapsed to his knees, the thud of his impact echoing hollowly inside his own mind. His knights rushed forward to haul him up, but he was already a shattered man.

Even with Vionette and Noa exhausted, the Soul Contract wrapped around his soul like an invisible iron leash, guaranteeing his own soul would shatter the moment he lifts a finger against them.

He had been so focused on the dragon that he hadn't noticed the snake coiling around his neck, pretending to be still until it was far too late to struggle.

Yet, reality was far crueler than his breaking mind could currently grasp. He was like a fool mourning a severed finger while his heart had already been pierced. He still had no memory of the first contract—the one that had stripped away his own memory.

He had already fallen much deeper into the snake’s lair than he could imagine.

***

A few moments prior,

High above the clash of the two monsters, two figures hovered suspended in the sky, observing the devastation with the detachment of untouchable gods.

One was an elderly man draped in a midnight-black robe, its silk woven to mimic the texture of dragon scales and trimmed in luxurious gold. Jagged, obsidian horns swept back from his brow, standing in contrast to his flowing long white hair and beard.

Beside him floated a young woman. Her tanned skin popped against her own silver hair, and her dark-blue eyes locked onto the chaotic battlefield below with sparkling excitement. She carried an athletic, yet distinctly feminine build.

“It’s that human that appeared in Thalaor,” she smiled, her gaze fixed on Noa. “He’s doing our jobs this time, too.” She shifted her attention to the crimson beast. “That little dragon of ours really slipped away to here.”

Then, as they watched in silence, the final clash occurred.

WROOOSH!

The young woman watched the collision of the two ultimate attacks with a wide, excited grin, treating the erasure of a human city as if it were merely a spectacular fireworks display arranged for her amusement. Beside her, however, the elderly man’s face had darkened.

“Wow! That attack was incredible for a human. Did he get that much stronger in such a short time?” She leaned forward eagerly, her eyes glued to Noa’s battered form. “Okay, it’s decided. I’m going to take him as my pet.”

She prepared to dive toward the city, her mind already spinning delightful fantasies of the powerful slave she would break to her will. She was thrilled—ecstatic at the prospect of securing both their target and a new toy in one swoop.

But the next moment, her body completely froze.

“No… don’t.” The old man clamped his hand down onto her shoulder from behind, his grip tightening like an iron vice.

“Grandpa, let go of—” She turned to complain, but the arrogant words instantly died in her throat.

Her grandfather—an ancient dragon whose power was overwhelming and whose pride was legendary—was drenched in a trembling sweat. His eyes, unfocused and staring blankly past her, were blown wide with a terror that bordered on madness.

“G-grandpa…?”

He didn't respond, leaving only the rushing wind to fill the silence. Then, as his eyes remained locked on the dissipating purple energy below, his lips moved in an unintentional whisper.

“No… No…”

Memories from his long life surged back to the surface—nightmares he had buried and prayed he would never have to recall.

T-that power… I don’t want to believe it, but… it’s him… it’s definitely him! No! Not again!

He dragged in a shuddering breath and slowly turned his head toward the young woman. He gripped both of her shoulders now, squeezing with a panicked strength that bruised her skin, even though his hands were shaking.

“Listen very carefully, Kelin,” he rasped, his eyes wild with desperation—an emotion she had never imagined seeing on his face. “Whatever you do, wherever you go—if you want to live, do not provoke him. No, do not even speak to him. Do not even look him in the eyes.”

“…What are you talking about?” She glanced back down at the ruined Noa, her face twisted in confusion. “Why should I be afraid of a mere human?”

“Don’t be fooled!” the old man hissed, tightening his grip and forcing her to look back at him. “Even if you were hundreds of thousands of times stronger than him, do not touch him. If you do, we are all dead.”

Kelin was paralyzed in disbelief. She couldn't comprehend how a person with such fragile powers compared to her own could reduce her grandfather to a shivering mess. But the despair pooling in his eyes was far too real to be a lie.

“…What about Elina, then?” she asked quietly.

“Forget her. We’re leaving.” The old man raised a trembling hand, tearing a crack through the fabric of space, and drifted forward. “Report that she died in the blast, or that you never found her. Completely erase her case immediately. We were never here.”

***

Two hours later,

Count Fain and his surviving knights wandered the ruins, desperately digging through the rubble in hope of finding anyone still drawing breath.

Meanwhile, Noa and Vionette remained exactly where they were. Vionette still sat elegantly sideways on the cracked earth, and Noa remained resting peacefully with his head in her lap, wholly enjoying the quiet.

Even though the dragon lay unconscious and vulnerable, not a single knight dared to approach it. Vionette had declared the beast her companion, forcing Fain to protect the very monster that wiped his domain. However, one of the dragon’s horns was noticeably missing now.

“It just agreed to join like that?” Vionette asked, an eyebrow raised in mild surprise as Noa recounted how he had recruited it.

“Yea. This happened, that happened, blah blah blah, and now it’s with us somehow,” Noa mumbled, leaning deeper into her lap as her fingers gently brushed through his hair.

Vionette exhaled a soft breath that sounded like defeat, before scanning her eyes over Noa’s body. “Okay. You’ve recovered now, right?”

Noa tilted his eyes up, catching her crimson gaze. “Yea, I’m about seventy-five percent back. But… I want to stay here longer. Your legs are soooo soft~”

“Mmm…” Vionette leaned her face down close to his with a fond smile. “If you want to.”

Noa’s burn marks and scars had faded back into smooth skin, and his clothes were stitching themselves back together. The clothes from Nymira’s shop were enchanted by a skill their employees possessed. When infused with the wearer's Aether, the fabric remembers its original form, reversing time on the material to erase any battle damage.

“Why did you take its horn, by the way?” Vionette asked, remembering how Noa had dragged himself through the effort of sawing off the dense bone even while he was on the brink of passing out.

“First,” Noa raised a finger, “it’s easier to get it while it's unconscious and can't complain. Second,” he raised another finger, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk, “I want it to forge my new sword.”

They exchanged quiet words about the day's events, looking for all the world like a relaxed couple enjoying a sunny afternoon in a park, rather than two killers lounging in the center of a mass graveyard.

Then, ‘they’ appeared.

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