A Novelist’s Guide for Side Characters to Survive

Chapter 49: “How Come I Run Into So Many Demons and Monsters Right Away.”

Nilia’s vision blurred, and the next second, he flew backward, crashing through several trees, embedding deep into a dirt mound, spitting blood.

As his sluggish mind rebooted, a gray-black shadow loomed in his hazy sight.

Without thinking, Nilia flung himself to the ground, forehead pressed to the earth, body rigid, not daring to move.

Pure instinct—gods knew why he prostrated to a Shiba, itching to kowtow twice.

Maybe the eerie rage in those red eyes compelled him.

Speaking of which, how could he read that from Shiba's eyes!

The more nervous Nilia got, the more his mind churned with nonsense, the worse the thoughts.

…But it didn’t matter, as long as he survived.

No sound came for a while; the Shiba seemed uninterested in further beating.

But he didn’t dare move.

Weren’t there perverse nobles?

Betting on hunting games, letting you think it’s over, ready to take the money and leave, only to get stabbed by a longsword as you turn.

Before dying, you hear the lord sigh regretfully, “Why not hold out a bit longer, just a bit.”

Nilia didn’t bet on whether the Shiba was a perverse Shiba—better safe than sorry.

After an eternity, feeling he’d bleed out, he heard rustling.

Nilia thought, Ha, caught you! Waiting for me!

But a human hand lifted him—cufflinks bore Saint Imolai’s crest.

“A strong arcana surge hit the back hills, and the whole academy’s in an uproar. What’re you doing sprawled here…”

A familiar voice.

Nilia struggled to look up.

Roommate Polika gazed at him calmly.

On the ground, it wasn’t obvious, but upright, Nilia’s face, smeared with mud and blood, stunned Polika, speeding his words.

“Don’t talk, I’m taking you to the infirmary!”

Nilia, barely surviving, nearly cried, using his last strength to shove the amber into Polika’s hand.

Whispering like a thief by his ear.

“Inside… a vicious dog…”

He passed out.

*

“Why just one kick.”

Chu Zu sighed regretfully, “He looks tough. With that sleazy personality, not kicking twice is a waste.”

The system wanted to grab Nilia and yell: “Show some respect, that kick was the world’s most majestic!”

But it mumbled sheepishly: “I… thought you’d be furious…”

“Who’re you talking about?”

Chu Zu didn’t care much.

“As a specialist, if I wanted to show off, I’d jump to the ‘Dragon Aotian System.’ This job, I’m a pro. As Zui…”

He chuckled lightly.

“Now I’ve got a big grudge with those gods. They killed my people, locked me in a cell, and turned me into a Shiba to humiliate me.”

“I can hold off chopping Nilia’s head, one kick vents my rage. New and old grudges go to the gods, no mistake.”

System, dazed: “Huh? Mythic times had no Shibas…”

Led astray, it corrected: “No beady-browed black wolf.”

It added, “Your form’s a bug, not the gods—”

“It’s their doing. I’ve debuted; even if the bug’s fixed, it’s hard to explain. The main text’s stuck like this.”

The system nodded, catching on, continuing: “Big ties to those gods!”

Chu Zu mused: “This bug might be a blessing.”

He said, “Readers didn’t buy Zui in the original. Sure, he clashed with modern values, but it’s a fantasy history.”

“Mythic tales have plenty like Zui; he shouldn’t be cursed this much.”

System: “So… your attitude toward Nilia was too harsh?”

“Harsh, and it clashed with his vibe. Nilia’s a witty growth arc, but with me, it’s all beatings and bloodshed, handouts like charity—off.”

“Right.”

“Now it fits. A dog acting like a dog doesn't sound bad.”

“…”

Chu Zu studied his form, pointing to his left cheek: “What’s this white fur patch?”

Still black hair, red eyes, vaguely like Jiang Zu’s pre-retcon edgy style.

System: “Without the glitch, you’d have long hair. The white streak’s from the gods’ curse.”

“I don’t get why an animal form still speaks, wears clothes, has white fur, walks upright…”

The system pondered how to explain, opting for risky honesty.

“You know Disn*y?”

“We got the idea from Zootopia.”

“…”

Chu Zu paused, “No wonder there’s a T-Rex. You ripped off Jurassic World too?”

The system hung its head in shame.

*

In the infirmary, Nilia clutched his clothes, helpless.

Ten minutes ago, he woke, wounds mostly healed, clearly Lady Blythe’s arcana.

His mouth’s blood taste was gone, replaced by sour herbs.

Lady Blythe, herbology professor and infirmary head, held a level-two arcana license.

If she shook her head at a patient, it was over.

Either seek a master abroad or pick a scenic graveyard.

Before thanking her, the stern lady stripped his clothes, pointing at his abdomen: “How’d you get this wound?”

Nilia looked down.

A vivid red… paw print.

Lady Blythe: “With all external and internal injuries healed, it’s still there. I can’t identify the arcana tool—what trouble did you stir, Nilia?”

Nilia mumbled, looking for his trusty roommate, nowhere in sight.

He recalled Polika saying the back hills’ arcana surge shook the academy.

Unsure if “uproar” was good or bad, he didn’t dare mention the amber.

If confiscated, fine; a town shop dispute might mean probation.

But if serious, expulsion—he’d move to town.

The shopkeeper would grind him to dust.

Planning to slip off the bed, his feet didn’t hit the ground before Lady Blythe grabbed him.

“It’s… a tattoo…”

Nilia, clutching clothes, gritted: “My ancestors were minor nobles, our crest… a wolf paw!”

“On my birthday, my parents tattooed it. It’s our legacy, always reminding me to reclaim family glory!”

Saint Imolai’s teachers, mostly minor nobles, ate this up.

Lady Blythe, pitying, dropped it, asking: “What do you know about the back hills’ arcana reaction?”

Nilia opened his mouth, but she sighed, “Forget it, your arcana perception’s near zero. No way you survived that…”

Nilia: “…”

Nilia: “Right, right, I know nothing, just a town shopping spat…”

“Why don’t you study harder?”

Lady Blythe, stern: “Can’t beat townies, don’t wear the uniform or claim Saint Imolai!”

Nilia endured half an hour of lecturing, slinking out.

Relieved, he saw Polika at the door.

Not knocking, head bowed, waiting long.

“Why not come in… five minutes earlier, I’d be nagged five less… ugh, Lady Blythe…”

“Is it true?”

Polika looked up, eyes earnest, staring at Nilia.

“You came to Saint Imolai to revive your family?”

Nilia: “…”

Oh no.

Polika Landor, eldest son of the fallen Landor nobles, once barons under his grandfather.

Generations of untalented heirs tanked them.

By Polika’s time, the title was sold, assets nearly gone.

Else he wouldn’t share a dorm with a broke Nilia.

But Polika, an academic credit grinder, lived well, even aiding Nilia.

…So Nilia forgot.

No wonder his excuse sounded familiar.

He didn’t scam masterfully—he used Polika’s ambitions!

I’m trash!

Nilia mentally spat, struggling, then bit: “Back to the dorm, I’ll explain!”

His usual shortcuts were fine.

Pre-plague, he’d naively held “rising up” dear, acing tutoring.

Post-parents, he didn’t care, coasting day by day.

But some lies were off-limits.

Sure, if Polika thought their plights matched, or worse, he’d help more.

Polika seemed aloof, rule-bound, but cared deeply.

Lie to anyone, not him—that’s inhuman!

Nilia mulled, fearing Polika would drag him to apologize to Blythe for lying.

Apologizing…

“Can I borrow credits?” Nilia blurted. “I skipped breakfast at the canteen, rode the chef’s cart free…”

“Didn’t the arcana professor teach… Cas… Causa… something?”

“Causality,” Polika said. “Law of cause and effect.”

“Right, right! Gotta pay my debts, then figure out yours.”

Polika: “You didn’t skip. Last week, I told the canteen staff to deduct your meals from my credits.”

Nilia froze, secretly thrilled.

He knew Polika didn’t mind credits—post-graduation, they’d zero out, just a shiny record, not cash.

True, but he was elated.

“Don’t hit me back at the dorm.”

“I’ve never hit you.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“…”

There’s a first time for everything.

Nilia’s first was excruciating.

In the dorm, posture perfect, he declared himself an unlearned “plague orphan,” no legacy, all lies.

Polika stayed calm, stepped forward, hand on Nilia’s shoulder, sighing.

Then beat him senseless.

Polika was truly mad but kind, apologizing post-beating.

Said he overheard outside, assumed too much; Nilia didn’t mean to deceive.

Nilia, guilt flooding, teared up, admitting: “No, I’m awful, using you as material…”

Polika rested, then beat him again.

When Polika left, Nilia crawled up, nursing lumps, spotting the amber on the dorm’s shared table.

Terrified, ignoring pain, he grabbed it, plotting to hide it.

A passing classmate, seeing the open door, poked in: “Hey, Nilia, you’re here!”

Nilia jolted, lowering his hand, sleeve hiding the amber: “Here, here.”

“I ran into Polika, he said if I found you, pass a message… You’re ten meters apart, why a middleman…”

Muttering, the classmate said, “Polika said there’s a history test tomorrow. Don’t sleep, he marked key points, book’s by your pillow.”

Nilia, shocked: “He’s my reincarnated mom…”

Remembering, he frowned: “Didn’t the back hills mess blow up? Still testing?”

“History professor said, even if the empire attacks tomorrow, if the mountain stands, we test.”

Nilia: “…”

The classmate lingered, grinning at the doorframe: “You’re not studying now, lend me Polika’s book?”

Nilia wanted him gone to study the amber, agreeing: “Sure.”

He grabbed the half-meter-thick history book from his bed, paused mid-hand-off, pulling back.

Clearing his throat: “This is my study time sacrifice. Half-hour, three credits; two hours, ten credits buyout. Deal?”

*

Via real-time tracking on the protagonist and Amber's direct view, the system pondered.

“The novel’s thrilling battles… maybe Nilia gets beaten, but his toughness wears foes out?”

Chu Zu: “Was about to ask you that.”

Too pathetic, no ambition.

Seems to reform, then pulls more sleaze.

Forget a tyrant’s bad attitude—even a patient, all-powerful teacher would fight him to the death…

The system racked its brain, excusing: “Maybe he’s young, only sixteen…”

Chu Zu: “At sixteen, I’d slain my king father, itching to sweep battlefields.”

System: “…”

By now, amber in hand, cheat code out, Nilia should gear up for a comeback.

But Chu Zu felt… unrealistic.

Nilia rented Polika’s test notes for ten credits.

He knew not to overdo it.

When the classmate offered to extend, Nilia refused, pained, saying he couldn’t betray Polika, hugging the book to study.

Focused for half an hour… then fell asleep on it.

Chu Zu thought, Why not cover your head with it and sleep in bed?

The book’s thick, might cut brain blood flow, but Nilia least needed his brain.

Maybe knowledge could defy physics, seeping in via gravity?

Chu Zu told the system: “He’s got a history test tomorrow. Scan Polika’s marked points.”

System, scanning: “You… helping him cheat?”

“No, tutoring.”

Chu Zu said, “Check if there’s arcana for dreaming.”

The system got it, touched.

Study in dreams, learn while sleeping—host’s dedication!

It checked the novel’s settings: “There’s… perfect match.”

“Arcana Code 748, one-way dream-sending. Scam artists use it, send a dream, then stage a ‘haven’t we met’ to pry open hearts.”

Chu Zu: “…No wonder Nilia’s like this. This world’s all nuts.”

“Hey, it works!” The system said. “Hold on, I’ll pull it up. Like your debut, host via Master Wang.”

“Oh, oh, oh, gotta weave Polika’s notes in. The book’s nearly all marked, all key, from your era’s start to end, plus new era developments…”

System worried: “Can he retain it?”

“Then no textbook tutoring.”

Chu Zu stopped the chick, meeting puzzled beady eyes: “I’ll batch-retcon to my mythic living days, show him that.”

System, fresh from multicore upgrade, mapped “Tutor Nilia” and “Fix Tyrant Persona.”

“You’re rewriting history? A less extreme Zui?” it asked.

“No, even with logic bugs, I stick to the original framework, just smooth it.”

Chu Zu said, “But I’ll sync it to Nilia. What I smooth, he knows, readers know—tying mythic times to now.”

Zui’s hate stemmed from a few issues.

His dynamic with Nilia could adjust.

The rest was the author’s runaway main plot.

Link the unseen treasure to Nilia’s god-battle climax strongly.

Not background filler—main text needs heavy hints from the start.

God-battle motives could develop, but first, make it less jarring.

System got the host’s plan, its concern:

“If he dreams book content, it’s ‘read it, brain retained, test matters, so dreamt it.’”

“But real history differs from books. Nilia couldn’t access it, no logical reason you’d show him…”

Chu Zu: “Be flexible.”

He said, “‘Zui, enraged, recalls past life, new and old grudges piling, ready to wreck society anytime,’ reasonable?”

The system nodded.

“I’m bloodthirsty, used to forcing my will.”

“Now, Nilia’s the only one I can reach. He groveled nicely post-kick.”

“Showing him my past tests his stance, deciding if I should chop or recruit him as my dog.”

System, quick math: “Makes sense!”

Chu Zu nodded: “Handle the retcon, ideally god-related points.”

The host and system planned, then worked.

*

Sagteni Kingdom sat between the Nituslaibi and Neka Rivers.

Yearly floods enriched downstream soil, water and fertile land birthing civilization early.

Lacking natural barriers, over millennia, tribes settled, invaded, merged, declined, revived, until a leader, Sagteni, unified them.

This was Sagteni’s origin.

Perhaps from tribal conquests, Sagteni’s history was a war chronicle.

To Sagtenians, only conquering kings were worthy.

Why did they bow to “kinslayer” Ashurbanipal-Zui-Sagteni?

Though the new king killed his father and stole his title as Sagteni I, Sagtenians only cheered his might.

Some thought deeper.

Chu Zu, post-retcon, snapped in his mind: “Activate Master Wang, now!”

Next second, the fourteen-year-old king dodged a bronze dagger aimed at his throat on his cushioned bed.

Zui didn’t keep dodging, grabbing the blade at inhuman speed.

Sagteni weapons were double-edged; the dagger was a short sword.

Zui’s hand bled, but he didn’t stop, his slender arm brimming with force, flinging the assassin onto a lion-footed bedpost.

The assassin’s spine seemed broken, piercing organs, spitting blood.

Unresigned, he threw another dagger from his waist.

Metal clashed; Zui deflected it.

Blood dripped from his fingers, redder pupils lowered, expressionless, staring at the gasping assassin.

“Who’s he?”

Chu Zu asked.

System: “Don’t… know!”

“Where’s my sister?”

System, unsure, searched Sagteni data.

Data said Zui’s frequent rages led his sister to a nearby palace, coming to soothe him when needed.

“Go out… circle around, the palace just shy of yours is hers.”

Chu Zu: “Good.”

He grabbed the assassin’s hair, ignoring pained groans, dragging him out with brutal force.

No lighting, passersby knelt, setting down clay oil lamps, heads pressed to the ground.

Chu Zu wanted a lamp but saw fine moonlight, ignoring them.

Move fast, let them rise.

Unhurried, he dragged, admiring art.

Sagteni’s palace used marble relief panels, each outer wall adorned with two-meter-high carvings.

All depicted kings’ wars, hunts, victory feasts, realistic.

Only the sacrificial reliefs were abstract… offerings, maybe, with fine altars.

From dynamic battle scenes to baffling sacrifices, it felt like abstract comic panels—mind-boggling.

“That’s… people circling something in the middle, what’s that blob?”

System, ashamed: “Host, my art sense… pales to yours. I thought the circle was wriggling worms.”

Chu Zu: “…”

“There! Right ahead, that’s it!”

As the system spoke, warm light flickered behind a palace pillar.

A woman with waist-long black hair ran, lamp-bearers trailing.

Her dress fabric and sleeveless top’s embroidery confirmed to the system: “It’s her! Sister-mother!”

Each “sister-mother” stirred Chu Zu’s complex feelings.

Mythic tales had messy bonds—gods, humans—but on him, it hit differently.

Zui’s vile temper might stem from inbreeding.

The woman was stunning, features unreal, like an artist’s lifelong masterpiece, frozen in timeless youth.

Even Chu Zu, indifferent to looks, reflexively marveled at her beauty.

Yet she shared no resemblance with Zui.

As she neared, Chu Zu noticed she was… a head and a half taller?

Fifteen-year-old Zui was tall, at least 1.7 meters.

So she was near 1.9?

System, reading his silence, thought, family, tall’s normal.

Then, she ran up, bent, and kissed his forehead.

Under dim, vague moonlight, Zui’s scarlet pupils held cold indifference, like a beast in dark jungles.

The new king, half-covered in blood, trailed gore to the path’s end, always a step ahead.

Her expression didn’t waver.

She softly said: “Little Majesty, why drag your brother around? What trouble?”

Normally, a stranger kissing your forehead, you’d tolerate.

Maybe it’s the sister, Chu Zu and the system weren’t sure.

But her words were the kind a tyrant would draw a blade over.

Most crucially.

Chu Zu: “Why’s her voice male?”

System: “But she’s in a dress, and gorgeous…”

“Look closer. Dress, gorgeous, and an Adam’s apple?”

System: “…”

Chu Zu dropped the supposed brother, activating Master Wang.

The “woman” with Adam's apple didn’t dodge, stepping forward.

Chu Zu aimed to throttle her neck, but her frame wasn’t human.

A slight squeeze, and her neck snapped—

Crack.

Chu Zu’s eyelids twitched.

The broken-necked figure… still smiled, saying:

“If lands beyond Sagteni knew Sagteni I killed Hikta again for no reason, what would they think?”

Chu Zu squeezed harder, but this Hikta, like a maniac, smiled wider as her neck nearly severed.

Chu Zu’s mental brows knotted: “Check who Hikta is… How come I run into so many demons and monsters right away?”

System, hopeless, searched, stunned and silent by the results.

“Not demons… but close…”

Stammering, “He’s… the god you cursed, raged to kill, locked you up, returned, fought Nilia, and got crushed…”

The chick, baffled by history, paused, double-checking.

Same result.

It read, punctuation and all, sharing the shock.

“Death God—Hikta.”

Under moonlight, Hikta wiped blood from the new king’s jaw, voice soothing to the near-exploding king.

“Alright, no more jokes. Anger gone, Zui?”

Chu Zu: “…My mind’s flashing with cursing gods and plotting to crush them. Understand?”

System: “…I do.”