An Unwritten Story [LitRPG, Evil MCs]

Cirelith, the city-state of etched stone and whispered truths, was as lively as ever in the sprawl of noon.

Even though it was governed entirely by scholars and those obsessed with information, the alliances it held with surrounding kingdoms allowed it to remain a sanctuary.

“After all that hunting, we couldn’t find out a single damn thing,” Noa sighed. “What now?”

“We just have to call it here. We can’t just go into the higher floors without making some kind of alliance with these nerds anyway,” Vionette replied from beside him. Then, suddenly, her expression shifted. “BUT! I still refuse to give up on these mysterious murderers who harm the innocent!”

She wiped away imaginary, dramatic tears, her hands fluttering near her face as she struck a pose of heroic grief.

“Yes! This tragedy is not over yet!” Noa joined in, his voice rising.

From behind them, Rose and Kaelen watched the display with faces that could only be described as curdled.

“Then, shall we continue our normal patrol for clues?” Jain asked, glancing at the knights before turning her gaze toward Noa and Vionette. “Your Majesties should go and rest at the inn. We’ll join you later after we’ve scoured the district.”

“No, no, no. That won’t work,” Noa said, raising one arm toward the heavens while the other clutched his chest. “My soul would never allow me to sit back and watch the innocent suffer!”

Stop it, you jerk! I’m actually going to throw up! Rose looked away in disgust, fighting the urge to recoil from the cringe.

While Rose and Kaelen watched Noa and Vionette in disgust, Jain gazed at them as if they were the physical manifestation of the Goddess’s grace.

“Certainly! You can join us if you wish.” Jain nodded vigorously.

As Jain turned her back to lead the way, Noa, Vionette, Rose, and Kaelen shared a collective, mischievous glance. The ‘mask’ didn't fall, but the corners of their lips twitched with shared secrets.

Then, Vionette’s eyes caught a silhouette near the cliff's edge—a man in his late sixties sitting on a wooden bench, his gaze fixed on the horizon with an emptiness so deep it seemed to swallow the light.

“Hey Jain~” Vionette tapped the Saint’s shoulder. “You should go talk to that old man for a bit.”

“…That man? Why?”

“Trust me, just go talk to him. Ask about why he’s in such a bad mood and try to comfort him a little,” she said, before glancing at the green-haired knight. “Take Nill with you to assist. It feels… significant.”

“Well… if Lady Vionette senses something… he does look depressed as well.” She sighed. “Alright. Let’s go, Nill.”

Jain walked toward the bench, Nill trailing behind like a loyal shadow.

<He doesn’t even look suspicious though. Why did you…> Noa watched them.

<Just watch. If it somehow coincidentally turns out to be a red flag, great. But if it isn’t… it’s a perfect backup for the things that come after,> Vionette replied, letting out an amused laugh.

“Okay, you guys, continue the investigation. No, wait,” Vionette stopped them, her eyes lighting up as she caught sight of a colorful banner in the distance. “There was a fighting tournament happening here today, right? Let’s go there.”

---

Talk to him and share his stories… that just means I have to get to know him, right? Could he be someone suspicious? With that thought, Jain and Nill approached the old man.

His face was clean-shaven, but his expression was a ruin. His eyes looked into a distance that didn't exist, his eyelids heavy with the weight of unslept nights, and dark circles clung to his skin like bruised shadows. In his hand, he held an open, leather-bound book.

“Hey, how are you?” Jain's armor clinked softly as she knelt to match the man’s sitting height, offering a smile that felt like the first warm day of spring. “Do you mind if I sit next to you?”

The man’s hollow eyes moved slowly, as if through a thick fog, until they landed on her golden ones. He looked down at her polished plate, his gaze drifting from her arm, to her golden hair, then to the spear in her hand.

After a few ragged breaths, he gave a tiny, silent nod. Jain sat down, with Nill standing behind her.

“What are you looking at?” she asked, following the line of his sight. “Is there something interesting out there?”

“Nothing…. I’m just looking wherever my head turns,” his voice came out shallow and thin. “I don’t have anywhere I want to look right now.”

“Looking wherever your head turns?” Her smile turned nostalgic. “Reminds me of days past.”

He looks like he hasn't eaten in days. The hunger isn't just in his stomach… I know that expression well.

Jain looked down at the open book in his hand, which held a picture of a girl with black hair and blue eyes. “Who is that?”

The man looked back at the book, his fragile hand tracing the picture of the girl.

He replied in a trembling voice, “This is my daughter.”

Sensing his tone, Jain bit her lower lip, her eyes lingering on the picture with a look of disgust directed at no one but herself.

“I… lost her. She… she just disappeared into the city one day and never came back.” He looked up at the sky, the strength in his neck failing as his head tilted back. “I waited. I searched. But people told me she wouldn’t come back. They told me to stop looking.”

Jain’s heart surged with a mix of surprise, grief, and indignation as she looked into the old man's hollow eyes. She wanted to save everyone—to put a smile on every face—yet here was a man drowning in the silence of his own grief right before her.

“Are you a knight who came to investigate the disappearances?” the old man asked, a flicker of something raw in his voice.

“I am here for that, but I’m not a knight. I’m a saint.” She placed a hand gently on the center of his back. “Don’t worry. We will find your daughter. I promise you.”

The man’s ravaged face snapped toward her, meeting a smile so bright it felt like a challenge to the darkness. He stared at her, and slowly, the leaden weight in his eyelids seemed to lift.

In the cold, lightless cavern of his heart, a single, tiny spark of hope flared to life, fueled by the radiant certainty of the Saint.

His hands rose, trembling like leaves in a storm, before reaching out to grasp her shoulders. “Y-you… truly will?”

“Yes.”

Jain looked down at the shaking fingers digging into her mantle before meeting his eyes. They were no longer hollow; they were overflowing with tears, his mouth curving into a quivering, desperate line.

“T-then… please… please find my daughter.” The tears finally broke, tracking through the grime on his face. “I… I beg of you, please.”

Jain stood up, her spear leaning against the bench like a dormant lightning bolt. As the man’s gaze followed her upward, she extended a hand toward him.

So, the hollow shell reached out and grasped the radiant light, allowing it to fill the emptiness within.

“Don’t worry,” she smiled, her silhouette framed by the golden halo of the sun above. “As long as I’m here, I’ll somehow bring your daughter back.”

The man watched her as the golden sky made her appear like a divine messenger.

The promise from the Saint of the Church of Liara had been forged. And Jain knew she would keep her word, even if it meant tearing the city apart or descending into hell itself to drag that girl home.

***

<Lucien, how are things going back home?> Noa activated [Crown of Accumulation] as they walked through the bustling crowds.

<No problems, Lord Noa. Your family, the citizens, and all the officials are doing their daily activities normally. The kingdom is stable,> the voice of Lucien echoed back.

<Good, good. Keep it that way. Catch you later then,> Noa said, severing the connection.

While he checked on the state of their kingdom, Vionette walked beside him, her gaze fixed ahead—though unseen by others, she was quietly reviewing her system interface.

System, give me a list of all the skills Noa and I currently have. Filter them for compatibility through [A Match Made in Hell].

[Understood! Analyzing! Please wait…]

[Noa Ravel:]

Low Pain Resistance (Common) – Compatible

Low Explosion Resistance (Common) – Compatible

Minor Regeneration (Uncommon) – Compatible

Aura Blade (Rare) – Incompatible

Blink (Rare) – Compatible

Presence Override (Rare) – Compatible

Phantom Phrase (Rare) – Incompatible

Echo Reclamation (Unique) – Incompatible

[Vionette Crimvane:]

Hyper-calculation (Rare) – Incompatible

Mind Fortress (Unique) – Compatible

Crown of Accumulation (Unique) – Compatible

Sovereign (Unique) – Incompatible

Mindrift (Legendary) – Compatible

[Soul Linked:]

A Match Made in Hell (Unique)

Mmm… I technically have access to [Blink], but my Aether is still too low to actually pull it off in the real world, she thought, her eyes sharpening. And this regeneration thing of his… I need to do something about that.

Noa reached out, his arm sliding behind her back to rest his hand on her opposite shoulder, pulling her close as they walked. He looked down at her with a lazy, affectionate grin.

Vionette looked back at him, her crimson eyes softening as she leaned her head against his shoulder, their steps falling perfectly in sync.

“Look at that. I basically share most of my skills with you, don't I? I’m such a provider,” Noa joked.

“Shut up,” she whispered, her smile widening. “They’re all Rare class at best. You're giving me your trash.”

“Hey, I win by quantity!”

“Then I win by quality. My [Mindrift] alone solos your inventory,” she countered.

Out of nowhere, someone tugged at the edge of Noa’s jacket, causing the pair to stop mid-step.

They turned to see a little boy, no older than ten, wearing worn shorts and a long-sleeved shirt that had seen better days. His black hair fell over his forehead, and his eyes were wide with a curious intensity.

“Mister, can you help me?”

As Rose, Kaelen, and the knights paused behind them, Noa and Vionette stared down at the kid.

“Help? What kind of help are we talking about here, kid?” Noa asked, tilting his head.

The boy’s small hands tightened on Noa’s jacket. “Could you please… participate in the tournament for me?”

“The fuck? Participate?”

“Yes! You see… I need to bet on someone so I can make a little money for my family,” the boy explained, a hopeful smile breaking across his face as he looked at Noa’s sturdy frame. “And you look really, really strong. So… please?”

“Go ahead, Noa,” Vionette added, her smile turning into something amused and wicked.

“Wha—wait, really?”

“Yes, go and participate,” she nodded, her eyes twinkling. “We’ll head back to the inn and rest after we’ve finished with this little investigation.”

“Well… alright then. Side-quest time it is. Let’s go, kid.”

***

A group of beggars picked their way up the mountain path, expecting to be turned away at the next town, just like always.

“Honey, take my hand,” the man said, reaching out to his wife.

The woman placed a hand over her swollen stomach, looked up, and took his hand to navigate the rough terrain. From behind, a dirt-streaked hand pressed gently against her back, steadying her.

“You have to be careful when you're expecting,” a muscular woman said with a warm smile.

The pregnant woman pulled herself up with their help and turned around. “Thank you, Daej.”

“Mom! Dad! Hurry up!” A child, around five years old, waved from a few paces ahead, her brown hair swaying with every movement. “Or I’m going to leave you and hear a story from old man Haul without you!”

The man let out a laugh as he looked at the child, then turned toward the woman. “See, Roie? We have to hurry, or Eis will leave us behind.”

“Don’t joke around,” the woman said, shaking her head as they kept moving.

They picked their way through rocks, trees, and tangled vines, wading across shallow rivers until the sun began to dip below the horizon. Fortunately, they reached the mountain peak before darkness fell.

They fashioned crude shelters using their tattered, filthy garments—hardly worthy of being called a camp. At the center, they lit a campfire and gathered around its warmth. A few paces back, the pregnant woman and her daughter sat resting their backs against a thick tree trunk.

“Listen, Eis,” the woman started, placing one hand over her stomach while using the other to brush the girl's hair. “If there ever comes a time when your father or I aren't around, as the eldest, you have to protect your sibling, okay?”

The girl closed her black eyes and placed a hand over the woman’s stomach. “I understand, Mom. But don’t worry, you won’t be going anywhere anyway.”

Then an old man approached, holding a cooked fish in his hand. He crouched down before them with a gentle smile.

“Here, Roie, you can eat this.” He offered the fish to the woman.

Roie’s eyes widened. “Haul—this is the best catch of the day!” she whispered, trying to push it back. “No, I can't take this!”

Old Haul gently folded her fingers over the fish in her palm. “The child needs strength to grow,” he chuckled with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ve already cleared it with the others. Just eat.”

The woman turned her gaze from the old man to the fish, then to her stomach. “…Thank you, Haul.”

Old Haul looked at Eis as he stood up. “Eis, let your mom eat, alright? Why don't you come join the others for another story and let her rest?”

Eis stood up and took the old man's hand, walking with him toward the campfire. Roie’s husband, Kane, stepped out from the tent beside her and sat down, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they watched the group gather to listen to Haul's tales.

Time passed, and eventually the travelers drifted off to sleep beneath their rags in the freezing wilderness. But in the dead of night, the scream of a woman shattered the silence, coming from inside the tent Roie and her family occupied.

The child was being born.

The women surrounded the tent, led by an elder, while the men comforted the anxious Kane, who held Eis close to him.

After several hours, the old woman leading them stepped outside the tent with a smile, and behind her came Roie, cradling her newborn baby wrapped in a white cloth.

As she walked to the center, the group formed a circle around her. Kane stood at the front, covering his mouth with a blissful smile while Eis hugged his waist. The group watched in awe at the vibrant colors of the newborn child.

“Th-those colors…” Daej muttered under her breath as she stared at the child’s golden hair. “They look so bright and vibrant.”

“Yes…” Roie whispered, lifting the child gently into the air.

As the group’s gaze followed her hands, the baby finally opened her eyes and looked down at the people around her with a bright smile.

“She isn’t crying…?” a woman muttered, puzzled.

“Look at those eyes…” Old Haul extended both hands toward the child above, his dry lips trembling. “My, those eyes look just like the golden coins of the nobles—a child born to lift our curse as low-borns.”

The old woman interlaced her fingers in a quiet prayer. “Let us pray for this child’s future as well.”

Following her lead, the others did the same.

The mother held her child toward the sky as the beggars prayed to a god they didn't know, and with their prayers came the dawn, bathing the newborn's silhouette in golden light.

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