《The Sovereign of Souls》 Berics Forgotten Log You know, I never really understood why people don¡¯t wash their asses. Like, when I tell people I do, they just assume it¡¯s weird and think I somehow finger my ass. It makes no sense. All I do is insert my hand sideways and scrub it back and forth. Even when I explain it, they still believe I¡¯m the weird one, when they¡¯re the ones with a crusty asshole- I started recording. Forgot to tell you. ¡­¡­.You motherfucker. You better delete that right now or I¡¯ll- Take 2 Hi¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­. My name¡¯s Beric. I like long walks on the beach. I also read in my spare time. What the fuck was that? What was what? You¡¯re supposed to introduce yourself, not make a Tinder profile. And what was up with that long ass pause? I don¡¯t know. Brainfart? ¡­¡­¡­..Let¡¯s just retry. Take 3 Hello! My name is Beric. I am here to share a story of hope and peace with you. In these challenging times, it''s comforting to know-. Alright, stop. Just stop. Why? I was just about to get to the good part. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. This is supposed to be a normal introduction, not a Jehova¡¯s Witness speech. Just be normal and not treat this like a recording, but like you¡¯re talking to someone. Take 4 Hello. By now, you probably already know my name is Beric. I apologize in advance as I''m not particularly adept at recording messages, so please bear with me. If you''ve come across this tape and you''re unfamiliar with who I am, that''s both surprising and somewhat peculiar. I have a certain degree of notoriety, so either you''re listening to this far in the future or you''re from an alternate world. Whatever the case may be, I urge you to listen to my story and hear me out. What you''re about to hear are the true events that unfolded during my time, specifically how the "Dawn of The Demon Uprising" came to be. If you find yourself in the future and are curious about its origins, I ask you to pay close attention. If you''re from another world and simply curious about mine, feel free to listen as well. If you already know who I am, I understand if you''re reluctant to give me your attention. I acknowledge that I may not deserve it, but regardless, I believe it''s in your best interest to hear my perspective. I won''t attempt to justify my actions or the severe impact they had on everyone. However, I want you to understand something crucial: I never intended to cause harm. My only aspiration was to be an adventurer. That''s all. You may find this hard to believe, and I don''t blame you. My actions were far-reaching for someone merely seeking adventure. Yet, what I''m about to tell you is the unvarnished truth, nothing more. So please, just listen. Sys will recreate a narrative that will contain my entire life leading up to this point, in a story-like manner to help you understand it better. Everything you will hear is exactly how it happened, though if it¡¯s not accurate, blame Sys. Sys is dumb as shit. (Now playing ¡°Obsessive Boyfriend Tells You How Much He Loves You¡± for the next 24 hours.) I apologize for my wrong and unneeded statement. (Stopped playing.) Thank you, Sys. Sys is my personal system, though you¡¯ll learn more about it later. Alright, since Sys keeps telling me to hurry up, it¡¯s time to stop stalling. This is the story of the Sovereign of Souls, an adventurer who, through cunning manipulation, orchestrated the Dawn of The Demon Uprising. While the title perfectly fits someone like me, I reject that title. To be more precise, I detest it. A more fitting label for me would be... The Self-Absorbed Fantasist, Beric. Processing¡­¡­¡­..Finished. Dreams One would think that, after a lifetime spent beneath the same ceiling, it would be possible to count the number of notches on a popcorn ceiling. I can confidently assert that it is impossible. After living under this roof for over 17 years, I still haven¡¯t been able to determine the exact number. Each morning, waking from a dream already fading from memory, I faced the daily challenge of attempting to calculate the countless bumps. Though it was a futile task, it helped me regain clarity. I reached 3,781 before my eyes began to ache. Begrudgingly, I sat up, yawning and scratching my back. It was probably around 6 AM. I didn¡¯t need to check the time; despite my struggle to wake up on school days, I always rose early on weekends. Slowly, I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. After completing my usual routine, I headed straight to the kitchen. As expected, my parents weren¡¯t there. My dad worked the morning shift, and my mom volunteered at the local homeless shelter. I opened the refrigerator and grabbed some leftovers. While microwaving them, I checked my phone. With only two friends, there wasn¡¯t much to see. Robert was already up and had texted me that he was at the local library. Sam was probably still asleep. I replied to Robert, letting him know I¡¯d join him soon, and then ate my food while scrolling through my phone. I¡¯m not typically the kind of person who frets over appearances. However, I realized that a change was necessary, as my current look resembled that of a gas station attendant. I picked out a light blue hoodie and a pair of comfortable sweatpants, appropriate for the chilly weather outside. After slipping my feet into my Crocs by the front door, I hesitated. Should I go? This might be the only peaceful moment I have at home. Do I really want to spend it at the library? I reached into my pocket and pulled out a penny, deciding to leave it to fate. Placing the coin on my right thumb, I flipped it into the air, resolving that heads would mean going, and tails would mean staying. The coin landed heads up. Letting out a deep sigh, I opened the door and stepped outside. The cold air made me cringe at first, but it felt rejuvenating after I got used to it. I had to walk since both of my parents were using their cars, and my bicycle had a flat tire. But, it was only a 5 minute ride, so I figured that it wouldn¡¯t be too taxing. The sun was still rising, but the light somehow still reached its way into my eyes, so I had to slightly cover my eyes with my right hand. It was May 21, the last week of school. The week before I graduate. Generally, it¡¯s a pretty exciting event. You finally reach the threshold where you move on from being a kid to an adult. You¡¯re done with school, and you finally have the freedom to do whatever you want. College, trade school, or just taking the first job you get. Hell, if you want, stay at home. You¡¯re an adult now. You¡¯re free. But, that¡¯s not the case for me. I don¡¯t want to graduate not because I would miss it. I¡¯m definitely ecstatic over not having to go to school anymore. I don¡¯t really have any favorite teachers, or any fun school memories. All it really was to me was just a means of getting educated, not a place to make memories and friends. Go on, think of me as an edgy guy. I won¡¯t blame you. If I was in your place, I would think the exact same. I''m not excited for graduation, not because I''ll miss school, but also not because I''m worried about becoming an adult. Taxes, getting a job, paying bills, insurance¡ªall of that doesn''t faze me in the slightest. My parents prepared me for those responsibilities at a young age. I also have a full ride to a local college, so I don¡¯t have to worry about student debt. Plus, my dad has a connection hiring computer science majors, which will be my field of study. Honestly, I¡¯m all set. I have nothing to worry about. So, why am I not excited? Because graduating means I have to abandon my dream. My parents have essentially mapped out my life since birth, leaving me little room to pursue my own passions. They steered me toward computer science because of its growing job market, aiming to secure a stable and prosperous future for me. As a kid, I resented that. I didn¡¯t want to be a programming nerd. I wanted to explore. I dreamed of venturing into the icy depths of Antarctica, spelunking in uncharted caves, and swimming in the abyss of the ocean. That''s what I truly wanted. My parents, however, were not pleased with my aspirations. They believed that a career as an adventurer was impractical and too dangerous. They argued that there was little demand for adventurers and no one would fund an expedition into a place like the Mariana Trench. Over time, they managed to convince me to abandon those dreams. Or at least, they thought they did. My grandfather was my sole believer. Whenever he watched over me at his house while my parents were busy, he would listen to all my aspirations and dreams with a gentle smile. He encouraged me to keep dreaming and would even join me in imagining various scenarios. We would shiver as we hiked through icy mountains. We swung our flashlights around as we slowly walked through the dark caves. We slowly floated through the murky waters of the Mariana Trench as we searched for deep sea monsters. After he heard of my parents¡¯ attempt of disillusioning me, he had a serious talk with me. ¡°???, why do you think your parents want you to be a programmer?¡± ¡°They want me to be rich.¡± ¡°Heh. That¡¯s true, but that¡¯s not all. They want you to have a stable job, and have a life where you don¡¯t need to worry about debt or being homeless.¡± ¡°I guess.¡± "Your parents love you deeply, ???. They only wish the best for you and fear any harm coming your way. However, this love sometimes leads them to doubt your ambitions. They''re apprehensive about the risks involved in pursuing your adventurous dreams. They fear potential physical injury, financial strain, or loneliness that might accompany your exploration of the world. To them, your dream feels like a daunting challenge. It''s not that they wish to dissuade you, but they can''t help but worry about the perils that could arise." ¡°I know, I know. They¡¯re just worried about me. But so am I. It¡¯s not like adventuring will be easy. I know it¡¯s gonna be hard and dangerous. But, I also know that this is what I want to do. I want to explore.¡± ¡°Understanding the true essence of a dream distinguishes those who are awake from those who remain in slumber.¡± ¡°What does that mean, Grandpa?¡± ¡°It¡¯s just a little quote I came up with. Now, before your parents come home, I need you to understand something. You listening?¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Yes, grandpa.¡± "Dreams are aspirations we strive tirelessly for¡ªgoals that give us purpose. But not everyone achieves them. Many end up disheartened and despondent, yet they continue living, redirecting their focus toward smaller pursuits, smaller ''dreams.'' A dream isn''t the most crucial aspect of life, but some become overly fixated on it. They can become so consumed by their dreams that they neglect and hurt their loved ones. That''s my concern for you, ???." ¡°Why?¡± "Your explorations could affect others if something were to happen to you. If, for instance, you were seriously injured during a mountain climb, how do you think your parents would react? They''d blame themselves for allowing it and agonize over your well-being." "I won''t be reckless like that." "That''s not the point. What I mean is this: Will you have the strength to pursue your dream despite the potential harm it might cause you and your parents? Or will you heed your parents'' advice and opt for a simpler life?" ¡°.....I don¡¯t know.¡± "That''s perfectly okay. A decision as significant as this should be made when you''re older and more mature, able to grasp its gravity." ¡°But, then why did you even play along with me? Did you really think I could do it, or were you just doing it to make me feel better?¡± ¡°...I used to have a dream just like you when I was younger.¡± ¡°Really? People had dreams back in the 1600¡¯s?¡± ¡°You rascal.¡± I still remember the feeling of him bear hugging me as he pinched my ear. ¡°It was just a childish dream. One I had from dumb stories from my dad.¡± ¡°What was it?¡± ¡°An astronaut.¡± ¡°Pft. Did you want to check if the moon was cheese or something?¡± ¡°Actually, that was one of the reasons why I wanted to be one.¡± ¡°What else made you want to be one?¡± ¡°Uhhhh, it¡¯s hard to say. I don¡¯t exactly remember what it was, but I know it had to do with the stars.¡± ¡°The stars?¡± ¡°I do remember being mesmerized by them as a kid. I would gaze at them for hours.¡± ¡°Did you not have friends back then?¡± ¡°I did, alright? It was just late, and on the nights where I couldn¡¯t go to sleep, I would stare at them. It felt¡­.calming. Thinking back then, my life always felt rushed. My family moved a lot back then, and I had to switch schools constantly. I made a lot of friends, and lost a lot of them. I had to move into new houses, and just as soon as I would get used to them, my dad would announce a new job opportunity and, right after, we moved. It was tough back then for me. I didn¡¯t really feel like I belonged, and even when we finally stopped moving, it still took a while for me to settle in. But, maybe that¡¯s why I liked looking at the stars so much. No matter where I moved, no matter how different my home was, no matter how many friends I met and lost, the stars would always be there. In the same spot. Looking back at me.¡± ¡°So you were lonely.¡± ¡°You¡¯re focusing on the wrong thing.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you become one then? An astronaut?¡± Grandpa sighed heavily, his gaze falling. "It wasn''t fear or giving up. Circumstances required me to prioritize. Right after high school, I took the first job I could find to support my family. Years passed, promotions came, and now I''m married with children who have their own children. I never found the time. Even now, I still harbor that desire. I want to reach the moon, to see if the stars are still in that same place. If they¡¯re still looking back at me. But age catches up, and NASA probably isn''t hiring seniors. But, that¡¯s why I encouraged you.¡± ¡°Me?¡± "I want to support you in pursuing your dream, but not without cautioning you about its risks. As I said, even if you don''t achieve your dream, there are other paths to happiness. You just need a new perspective. But if you''re determined and believe you''re strong enough, I''ll stand by you as best I can." I don¡¯t remember what I was thinking back then. Was I happy? Embarrassed? Proud? Can¡¯t remember. But, I do remember what I said. ¡°Do you think Mom and Dad will understand if I do try to become an adventurer?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not up to me. Your mom¡¯s a wild-card. Who knows what she¡¯s possibly thinking of? I still have nightmares back when she was younger.¡± ¡°Then, what do I do in the meantime? While I wait and think about my dream. Do I just go to school, and live a normal life?¡± ¡°Sure. It¡¯s not bad to have a back-up in case your dream doesn¡¯t go the way you meant it to.¡± ¡°Do you think it¡¯s even possible?¡± ¡°No one knows, ???. We can¡¯t predict the future. All we can really do is hold our breath, and dive headfirst into the deep ocean called life.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not really reassuring.¡± ".....There comes a moment in every person''s life when they must decide whether to wake up and take the first step or remain in blissful reverie. Only after experiencing that reverie can you truly decide whether to pursue your dream or relegate it to mere fantasy." ¡°Grandpa.¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°But I like sleeping.¡± Grandpa chuckled as he pulled me in with his arm. ¡°So do I. But everyone wakes up at one point.¡± He passed away a couple of years later. Prior to his death, we visited him in the hospital where he was battling lung cancer, likely a result of his smoking habits in his youth. His condition had rendered him unable to speak clearly due to lung issues and intense pain in his mouth. The complicated machinery, the sound of urgent beeping, and the smell of death was almost too much for 10 year old me. Grandpa himself was the worst. His hair was almost gone, his eyes barely stayed open, and his skin was as white as milk. When we took our seats, Grandpa gestured for me to come closer with his eyes, unable to physically wave. I approached, and he directed his gaze towards his right hand. I looked and noticed that only his pinky finger was raised; the rest lay limp and emaciated. It was shocking to see how frail he had become. This was the same man who once lifted me high in the air, playing pretend flights to distant jungles. I then stooped down as I gave him my pinky finger. We then made a pinky promise. What was it for? A promise to watch over me in the afterlife? To bless me? Maybe it wasn¡¯t a promise, but perhaps an apology. An apology for not watching me graduate. For not having a beer with me for the first time. For not being at my wedding and cheering for me. For leaving me. Shortly afterwards, Grandpa died. Mom and Dad sobbed over his body, while I just sat down. I didn¡¯t really know what to say or do, so I just quietly cried. I never figured out what he wanted to say to me. Was it an apology? Was it him just reassuring me? Was it good luck to me? I don¡¯t know. But, I do know one thing. Grandpa wasn¡¯t the only thing that died that day. My dream died along with him. Inner Thoughts My dream didn''t entirely die with Grandpa, but a significant part of it did. My only supporter was gone, leaving me with a cryptic final message. Some might take such a moment as motivation, feeling a stronger drive to achieve their dreams. Others might break down, losing all motivation. I was simply too preoccupied with school. Each year, the classes grew more challenging. My parents pushed me to excel, enrolling me in AP courses and tutoring me in advanced subjects during their free time. They forced me to partake in volunteering for the local library, and joining the club for NHS. There wasn''t a class on ''How to Be an Adventurer,'' and even if there were, my parents would deem it a waste, believing it would take up a valuable slot for other classes. This began in middle school and continued through my senior year. The reality of my situation gradually sank in as I grew older. I lacked the time, the drive, and the support necessary to keep dreaming. Perhaps it was time for me to accept what was inevitable. Maybe I needed to keep sleeping. Maybe my dream was just that¡ªa dream. That''s an internal conflict I struggle with. To be honest, I have a great life. I have a full-ride scholarship, valuable connections, a guaranteed stable job, and basic knowledge of taxes and paying bills. Yet, I don''t feel happy. I''m not particularly looking forward to graduation day, and I dislike spending most of my day studying. Why? As I mentioned, once I graduate, it will be impossible for me to pursue my dream. My path has already been chosen for me, and there''s no way my parents would allow me to deviate from it, especially for an uncertain dream like "being an adventurer." But I don''t want that. I don''t want to program for the rest of my life. I still want to explore. I want to be free. I know I may sound selfish, perhaps even spoiled. Most people would do anything for a full-ride scholarship and a stable job, yet here I am, desiring none of it. But why is that? Why are people with comfortable lives not allowed to voice their dissatisfaction? I understand this sounds bad¡ªI can hardly believe I thought it myself. But bear with me. If I score an 80 on a test, am I wrong for feeling disappointed? Should I simply be content because some of my classmates failed and received scores of 40 or less? Why should other people''s opinions influence my desires? Why is it wrong for me to want more? Here''s another example: if I stub my toe, is it acceptable for me to cry out in pain? Or should I just be thankful it¡¯s not more serious, considering that some people lose their legs in accidents? Am I not allowed to complain or express pain? It may sound drastic, but I do believe it still holds some truth. It holds even more, since that isn¡¯t the only aspect of people¡¯s lives that are affected by societal expectations. Life itself is also influenced by society. If you really think about it, your actions and thoughts don''t give your life meaning¡ªyour life''s meaning is defined by how others value it. Take the light bulb, for example. The light bulb is a crucial necessity that remains widely used today, which is why we continue to learn about Thomas Edison and the significant impact his invention has had on us. But isn''t that strange? We only know about Edison because of his invention. What about his childhood stories, his first love, his favorite game growing up, his fears, and his dreams as a young man? Why don''t we know any of that? It''s because we simply don''t care. All we care about is what his life''s work provided us. As long as we can benefit from his work, we are willing to learn about him, but not his actual life. It is only his invention that gives his life meaning. It''s society that gives his life meaning. That¡¯s what I dislike about society, and people in general. We give so much power to society. We want to be seen as the good guys. We want to be remembered well past our deaths. We want to feel like we mattered. So, we decide to focus our entire lives on creating. Some create innovative technology, others scientific theories, new lives, media, or even conflict. It¡¯s a sad reality. By default, humans are social creatures, and we yearn for fellow human contact. It¡¯s only natural that we fear being forgotten, so we try our best to make ourselves memorable, to prove that our life mattered. And we do that, by giving society the power to decide that for us. Huh. Am I the same then? Do I want to be an adventurer for the purpose of exploring, or to be remembered by the entire world? Moving on, I don¡¯t believe life is inherently meaningless. Sure, in the grand scheme of things, nothing matters. Nothing will exist forever, and the memories we try so hard to preserve will eventually fade away without anyone to remember them. But, I still want to live. It¡¯s not like I just want to roll over and die. I like eating. I like playing video games with Robert and Sam. I like making my parents proud. I like sleeping. I love dreaming, for a future where I¡¯m no longer dreaming. Maybe life is meaningless, maybe it¡¯s not. But, I don¡¯t really care that much. I¡¯m too busy to be worried about topics like that, since I just reached the library. The shabby public library definitely looked worse for wear. It¡¯s been here for quite a while now, with it being already old when my grandpa moved here as a child. The stairs leading up to it looked like fragile dinosaur fossils, with a railing that was on its last leg. Carefully, I walked up the stairs, while making sure to not touch the railing. The double doors of the library had been replaced a couple of times throughout the years. The previous doors were made out of dark oak wood, but after an accident involving some kids and a baseball bat, they replaced them with¡­wooden planks? Wow, this library really needs more funding. I sort of felt sorry for the building. It probably used to look beautiful, with its imposing size and the blood red bricks lining the walls. But now, the bricks were the same color as my toilet last night. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I entered the library and was almost knocked out by an acidic smell. What the fuck is that? I made my way to the checkout and greeted Mrs.Goss. Mrs.Goss looked like she grew up with the library. She seemed so frail that if she were at the birthday party of a small child, the child¡¯s blows at the candle would end up sweeping her away. Her hair was the complete opposite of her teeth, with her teeth being as golden as King Midas, and her hair looking like cotton. I asked her if she saw Robert, and why there was a strange smell. She told me he was in the back, in the comics section, and that she was trying out a new scent. I thanked her and left, but not before suggesting she get a checkup to make sure her nose was still working. Robert¡¯s a comic nerd. If you asked him to name all the superheroes he knows, then you would have to grab a seat and some snacks, because it would not end anytime soon. But, I liked that about him. It was nice seeing him be so passionate about something. It was heartwarming, even. Honestly, I envy him. I envy having something you love so much, you dedicate all your time for it. Well, I did have something like that. I didn¡¯t want to call Robert, since obviously we were in the library, so I kept on walking. I didn¡¯t know what we were going to do today. Probably read a few new comics. Play solitaire on the library¡¯s computers. Talk about the unexplored majority of the ocean, the steep cliffs of Everest, and the humid jungles of the Amazon. Whatever it was, I just wanted it to be fun enough to forget about graduation. Before I graduated, I wanted to at least enjoy my time. My last couple of days¡­.before I would stop dreaming. I finally reached the comics section. Look, I¡¯m not slow, alright? There¡¯s just a ton of walls to squeeze by to get to the back. Anyway, after squirming my way through the last wall, I spotted Robert. I was about to call out to him, but something stopped me, rather someone stopped me. He was talking to a girl. It wasn¡¯t a library volunteer. It wasn¡¯t Robert¡¯s sister or cousin. It wasn¡¯t someone I knew. He was talking to her, and he was actually making her laugh. She smiled at whatever he was saying, and she was even¡­..tucking her hair behind her ear. There should only be two reactions I could have. The first would be excitement and happiness that Robert finally found a girl. The second would be slight anger that he found someone before I did, yet still happiness for him. I wasn¡¯t feeling either of them. I felt sad, but I knew this would eventually happen. I just didn''t expect it to happen so soon. Of course, with the extensive amount of studying and work I had to commit to, I scarcely had time to socialize. Playing sports was out of the question, a supposed ¡°waste of time and energy¡±......Yeah, that was a lie. My parents actually wanted me to try sports, but I¡¯m not exactly a uh¡­.athletic guy. After finding that out, my parents just made me study. Anyway, I had little opportunity to make friends, and the few friendships I managed to form eventually dissolved. Sam and Robert were the exceptions. We met during a shared study hall and instantly connected. They are probably my closest friends, though primarily because they are the only friends I have. But, it wasn¡¯t always like that. I used to have a decent circle of friends. But our friendships just faded away. It wasn¡¯t because we hurt one another, but simply because they moved on. They started dating girlfriends and became busy, and I couldn¡¯t make an effort to revive our friendships because I was busy too. I had school and networking to focus on. No. That¡¯s just an excuse. I wasn¡¯t always busy. I had plenty of chances, but I never took them. Why? I felt betrayed. Despite our long-standing friendships, they all ended it for a girl? And, not only that, they couldn¡¯t even reach out to me? They knew how much work I had to put in for school. Why couldn¡¯t they make the first move? Why do I have to? Sorry, I sound selfish. But, am I wrong for feeling selfish? Weren¡¯t they also selfish for choosing their girlfriends over me, and leaving me alone with nothing but school? I left the library. I would eventually return, probably after Robert texting me that he managed to get a girl¡¯s number. Then, we would sit around as he would tell me how he found the one, and blah blah blah. He would leave me. That¡¯s what it really is. I was sort of angry at that. He seriously just couldn¡¯t have waited until after we graduated? Just wait one more week? Whatever. It¡¯s fine. I still have Sam. I arrived at a crosswalk, unsure of where to go next. Perhaps the park? I could sit on a bench and wait until Robert texted me; it seemed as good a plan as any. I took out my lucky penny, hoping it might guide my decision. As the signal changed for me to cross, I walked while absentmindedly flipping the coin in my hand. Strangely, despite always catching it before, this time I lost control and it slipped from my fingers. Just like in a clich¨¦ movie scene, the penny began to roll away. Fortunately, it only rolled in a circle, so I bent down to pick it up. As I knelt down, I heard people shouting nearby. I turned to see what was happening and was horrified to find a 15-ton truck barreling straight toward me. What Happens After Death I had heard stories and watched movies where during a person¡¯s death, dying felt cold. Yet, it was the opposite for me. Maybe it was the blood seeping out of me, surrounding my frail body. Maybe it was the unforgiving sun, as it bore down intense heat at me. Maybe it was the steaming ground, as I lay there, surrounded by numerous pedestrians panicking over the sight of me. Surprisingly, it didn¡¯t really hurt. It felt¡­bittersweet. In terms of physical pain, it wasn''t really much. What hurt more was the realization that I was dying. This was the end. My life was over. My dream was over. Even if I disliked how I had zero control over my life, and that I had nobody to consider a true friend, it was still mine. I still had a lot more to do. But, I couldn¡¯t do anything. All I could do was close my eyes, and hope that whatever came up next, it would be¡­a place of freedom. A place where I could do what I want to do. The first thing I saw was complete darkness. The sight of nothing bummed me out. This is it? There¡¯s nothing after death? Well, shit. But then, I realized something. I was still thinking. If this was a place of pure nothing, like the popular theory that nothing exists after death, then how was I still able to think? It was then I realized, I could also still move. It then hit me. It¡¯s not that there was nothing, I was simply looking at nothing. I then turned around, and honestly, my jaw fell wide open. (Pause). I know I probably looked like a dumbass, but just hear me out. I¡¯ll try to describe exactly what I saw. Picture space as the foundation. Now, imagine that every single star isn¡¯t a star, but rather your memories. Yes, you heard me right. Every single star that I saw was one of my memories. I saw one star that contained the time I went hiking with a few friends when I was younger. Another star was of the time when I was chased by a deranged dog while coming home from school. There were also bigger stars, most of which I assumed were suns, that contained my most ¡°important¡± memories. One sun was of the time when I saw a map for the first time. I was on a school field trip, and we had gone to the museum. When I learned of how unexplored the world truly was, it fascinated me. The world was that big? To a kid, it sounded like something straight out of a comic book. All of that land untouched by a man¡¯s foot. All of those mountains too cold and steep for a man to climb. All of that water too deep and dark for a man to swim in. It didn¡¯t sound like a warning to me at that time. Rather, it sounded like a challenge. And I was more than willing to accept it. Another sun was the time when Grandpa and I had that talk. It felt kind of odd to see him again. To see him look alive. But, it also felt comforting. Even in death, he was still with me. It was then I finally noticed the craziest thing about this place. Every single memory, (stars), and every single ¡°core¡± memory, (suns), were connected by transparent lines. These lines were then connected to planets, or celestial bodies if you¡¯re a nerd. The planets were also not actually planets, but the faces of people in my life. One showed my mom, another showed dad, which were orbiting each other. There was a smaller planet, my grandpa, orbiting the both of them. It was rough to see that his planet looked dead. A bit farther away from them were other planets, my friends. I saw Robert, but he wasn¡¯t as connected as Sam. I knew why that was the case. It seemed that the more I valued something, the tighter the connection was to myself, or rather, my memories. Which is why, despite Robert not being as connected as the others, was still tightly connected to some memories. The memories with him, like the time we first met. The time when we promised each other we¡¯d make our dreams. He¡¯d be a comic book artist, and I¡¯d be an adventurer. How foolish we were. As I neared the memories for a better look, the purple, blue, pink, and black essence of space itself turned into a trail, leading to each memory. They would also form into stairs, in case some were too high. I did this for a bit, revisiting each memory. It was nice to see them one last time. I was interrupted by a deep voice behind me saying, ¡°Another accident. Truly, a shame.¡± I turned around quickly, to see a cloaked figure walking towards me. If I ever saw something as scary as this in my lifetime, I would¡¯ve ran as soon as I saw it. But, since I was already dead, I figured there was no point. Upon closer examination, the jet black cloak worn by the entity looked actually kind of nice. Hell, even I would¡¯ve worn it. Whoever this was, I had to admit, you got good style. When the entity got close enough, it removed the hood. Now, I don¡¯t consider myself a¡­.¡±scaredy cat¡±. I can stand my ground if needed, and I¡¯m more than willing to fight back when the time calls for it. But, what I saw terrified me. It was the abyss. It wasn¡¯t the same darkness that I saw earlier. That darkness had a sense of unfulfillment, as if there was still more to be done. But this was truly nothing. It was the epitome of the end. Nothing stared back at me. It was filled with nothing, but at the same time, void of everything. Just the sight of it filled me with dread. What if that¡¯s what¡¯s going to happen to me? Is that my fate? Just pure nothing? My vision was beginning to blur as I began to struggle with breathing, but the entity spoke again. ¡°My apologies, I forgot to change my form.¡± In what seemed like a mere second, the darkness went away, and a human face replaced it. It wore a weary face, covered by coal-black short hair. He had eye bags, and a tired nose that was too exhausted to even smell. ¡°I believe this is more acceptable, ???¡±. ¡°How do you know my name?¡± ¡°I am knowledgeable about every being¡¯s life on this planet. I am aware of all that there is to know about you. I am familiar with your every pain, hope, and dream that you owned.¡± ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked, though I already had an idea of who he was. The entity let out a deep sigh, a sign of annoyance, probably from being asked this question countless times. "I am what shadows you every step of your life. I am the unspeakable horror that haunts your waking moments. I am the collection of dangers that imperil your existence. I am the destiny of every single human. I am the end. I am Death." ¡°Damn, that¡¯s crazy.¡± I murmured while looking at another memory. Death didn¡¯t seem to be offended by that, but then again, maybe he was just too tired to show it. I then remembered something. ¡°Wait, what did you mean by accident?¡± ¡°Take a walk with me. I¡¯ll answer that question on the way, along with any others that you may come up with.¡± Death turned around and started walking slowly, probably to wait for me. I joined him, and followed right behind him, as we passed by my life. ¡°Your death was not planned for. You were supposed to have died at a much later age, at the end of a successful life.¡± What the fuck? ¡°How did that even happen? Didn¡¯t you just say you were with me my entire life? Did you not see that big ass truck going right for me? Is it not in your ability to, I don¡¯t know, prevent someone¡¯s death? Since you are literally Death.¡± I flailed my arms to get my point across, but that might have just made me look like an idiot. ¡°I apologize on behalf of fate and the gods, and I understand your anger. But, ever since the Supreme Divinity went into his slumber, chaos has started to infect the natural laws of the universe. Deaths have started to become unpredictable, and some have even begun to happen before their planned fates, like yours.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°The Supreme Divinity? Is that like¡­.church God? Brahma? Buddha?¡± ¡°He is all. He is known by many names, but one thing is held constant. He is the creator. He is the apex.¡± ¡°And He¡¯s¡­sleeping? He couldn¡¯t make coffee to stay awake?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not exactly what you would consider to be sleep. The Supreme Divinity decided to go into a state of unconsciousness, but still retain certain aspects to keep the universe afloat. No soul understands why this is, but there¡¯s no point in attempting to figure out why. All we can do is continue our roles.¡± ¡°But, doesn¡¯t that mean you¡¯re being forced to work overtime? Like, you¡¯re leading me to the afterlife, right?¡± Death nodded his head. ¡°Isn¡¯t that annoying? To work more than what you were promised?¡± Death merely kept walking, albeit slowly. He didn¡¯t answer for some time, until he said, ¡°When I was created, the Supreme Divinity gave me emotions. It was vital for me to emphasize with the souls that I would lead to the afterlife, and to be welcoming and kind to the confused dead. He gave me sadness, happiness, but also anger. To answer your question, I do feel overworked. I would like to be able to take breaks, but I can¡¯t stop. This is my duty. Even if I don¡¯t enjoy it, I will see to the end of it. This is what I was created for.¡± That¡¯s kind of sad, I thought to myself. What¡¯s up with that worker bee mentality? You¡¯re Death, after all. You should at least get some assistants. But, I kept it to myself. For someone like him, there was no point in telling him all that. But, I was also confused. I would have thought that Death would be able to read the minds of the dead. I mean, they are under his jurisdiction. I only thought of this when I realized he told me he was Death. I already had an inkling that he was Death, but I still asked to be sure. If he could read my mind, why didn¡¯t he just tell me something like, ¡°Your guess is correct. I am the shadowy being that¡± and then he would yap about himself. So, I tested this by cursing obscenely in my mind. No reaction. I then envisioned very inappropriate sexual scenes. He kept on walking. By now, he should have at least asked me to stop. Did he not care about trivial matters like curses and sex? Only one way to find out. ¡°If I were in your shoes, I would have just told this supreme whatever guy to fuck Himself. No way in hell I would work overtime for His lazy ass.¡± Death stopped walking. He turned around and looked at me right in my eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t recommend insulting the Supreme Divinity. Even if he is unresponsive, he still hears everything. And, there¡¯s no need for that kind of language.¡± ¡°Oh, sorry. Do you not like cursing?¡± ¡°It¡¯s unnecessary.¡± I thought so. That confirms Death¡¯s not able to read my mind. Pretty odd, but whatever. Maybe it¡¯ll come in useful. The two of us continued walking. As we made our way, I began to see other people near us. It seemed like they were all going in the same direction as us. I also noticed that people with the same cloak as Death led them. ¡°Who are those people over there?¡± ¡°That¡¯s another soul that I¡¯m leading to the afterlife.¡± ¡°Wait, that¡¯s also you? But-hold on, how does that even work?¡± ¡°I am everywhere. It¡¯s only logical that, especially in my domain, I am capable of existing in multiple areas at the same time. As we speak, I have just now successfully reincarnated a soul.¡± ¡°Okay, that¡¯s cool, but you said reincarnation?¡± ¡°Reincarnation is one of the possible fates of a soul. Others include eternity in paradise, never ending pain in hell, perpetuity in purgatory if you happen to fall in the middle, and simply being erased, if some wish for it.¡± ¡°Then, what am I getting?¡± ¡°Yours is different. Since you had an accidental death, you¡¯re obliged for paradise, since you also did no evil acts in your lifetime. You also have the opportunity of being reincarnated, since you still have a great deal of karma remaining.¡± Paradise? Reincarnation? What do I pick? As I was thinking, I then saw more people. Most of them were regular humans, nothing out of the ordinary, until I saw the unmistakable ears of an elf. ¡°Uhhhh, Death? Is that an elf?¡± ¡°It is. What about it?¡± ¡°That¡¯s an elf. A fictional being. Why is it here?¡± ¡°My apologies. I should¡¯ve informed you of the different worlds.¡± Different worlds? ¡°Parallel to the world you hail from, there exists infinite other worlds. A great number are akin to yours. A plethora are filled with magical creatures and races that only exist in fairy tales in your world. Countless others are unique, with much more advanced technology, primitive civilizations, and many more. It¡¯s endless.¡± Of course I was born into the one world where adventuring is impossible. Not the literal fantasy world that promotes adventuring. No, I was born in a world where you have to work a job you hate just to live. Thanks, god. I hope your pillow¡¯s warm. Hearing about the different fates, parallel worlds, and the fact that this supposed supreme god was all of my world¡¯s religions combined into one, I wondered if they were all true then. ¡°Death, do all the gods exist then? Like the Greek pantheon, along with the Norse and all the others?¡± "They all exist. Initially, they were singular entities with their original names, but over time, as humanity evolved and developed diverse beliefs, opinions about the universe''s gods began to differ. The Supreme Divinity was firm in not allowing direct interference from the gods once humans became sufficiently independent to thrive on their own. Therefore, He chose to fragment all the gods into lesser forms. These lesser forms are shaped by the religions and beliefs of your world. This explains why perceptions of the afterlife vary widely. Those of the Christian faith might see Hell, while followers of Greek mythology might see Tartarus." ¡°Then, what about the gods of other worlds? Are they also different from my world¡¯s?¡± ¡°Each world contains its own distinct gods, whether centered around a principal deity with supporting gods, worship of multiple gods equally, or submission to a single god''s authority. It all depends on the faith of the world¡¯s inhabitants.¡± ¡°Does the amount of faith in a god amount to how powerful they are then?¡± ¡°Correct.¡± ¡°Is it possible for a mortal to become a god from faith alone?¡± "To achieve that, a significant amount of faith is necessary. Multiple churches or places of worship must be dedicated exclusively to them, and the world''s gods must acknowledge and bless these establishments. They also require power comparable to that of a singular deity, which is why such occurrences are rare." ¡°So, it¡¯s happened before?¡± ¡°It¡¯s been accomplished multiple times. There have been such cases present in your world, Heracles and Perseus. The most recent example I can recall is one that took place in the world of Ghodrea. The mightiest adventurer was elevated to the status of a destined hero after defeating a profound evil. Tales and legends extolled his valor, garnering favor from the gods who guarded their world. Shrines were erected in his honor, and daily prayers sought his protection. In recognition of his bravery and the reverence he inspired, the gods presented him with a rare opportunity¡ªto transcend mortal existence and join their divine ranks." ¡°What about you? Where do you fall in the ranking?¡± "As Death, I stand above the gods. Even the likes of gods are powerless against me. Only the Supreme Deity and the Fates hold dominion over me. The Supreme Deity created the universe, and established laws and order. He then created me, to ensure balance and to keep the universe flowing smoothly. The Fates were created shortly after me, to guarantee that the Supreme Divinity had control over everything. The gods were subsequently formed, to help the universe¡¯s new life forms prosper and grow strong enough to be self-sufficient. Of course, the existence of evil was crucial for the potential of humanity to bloom properly, which is where all your stories come from. Your stories of David and Goliath, Heracles and the Hydra, Sigurd and Fafnir, to list a few. They all were significant for the purpose of developing your race. And for their entertainment." ¡°For whose entertainment?¡± Death stopped moving as he tsked in annoyance. He then turned to me and said in a hushed tone. "Erase that from your memory. It will only bring you grief and misery. I urge this not just as Death, but as a fellow slave. No good comes from attempting to defy your Creator." The worried look on his face was enough to convince me. If this was capable of terrifying Death itself, then I wanted no part in it. A Deal With Death I really should have worked out back when I was still alive. Even while being dead, I still had shit stamina. It got so bad to the point that Death had to summon a horse for me to ride. It was a beautiful steed. With a deep, velvety black coat, and a glossy black mane and tail that swayed with each careful step, and sleek, ebony fur, the horse¡¯s intelligent eyes looked at me with¡­.spite? It huffed as I tried to get on it, which caused me to slip. Death let out a small sigh as he scolded the horse in an unknown language. The horse neighed in response, as if it was talking back to Death. After a stern-talking to, or at least it seemed like it, the horse¡¯s irritated attitude died down. Even when I attempted to climb it, it made no sound, and even tried to help by going down low for me. After I hitched myself up and prepared to ride, I remembered something. I had no experience with riding horses. As I was about to tell Death this, I realized something. Death knew all about my life, down to every last detail. If that¡¯s true, then wouldn¡¯t he know I can¡¯t ride a horse? Before I could tell him this, the horse bolted with zero hesitation. My face probably looked like I was on a roller coaster, and the fact that I was screaming made it seem like I actually was. Thankfully, since I was dead, I wasn¡¯t able to feel nauseous, so there was no way of me needing to vomit¡­¡­Wait, then why did I even feel tired? Did Death purposely make me feel tired so I would have to experience this? Was this all just for a quick laugh? I thought I was overreacting, but after somehow managing to turn my head to the left, I saw Death was catching up with us. I also saw a smirk on his face as he saw mine. Oh, Death. You¡¯re a bitch for this. It felt like I was riding for hours. I even resorted to praying to god, the supreme guy, but I then remembered it was His fault that I was here in the first place. So, I just shut my eyes as I wished for it to end. Eventually, it did, as the horse went from a lightning-fast run to a slow trot, until it finally stopped. I wearily opened my eyes to see if where we stopped ¡°Woah.¡± was all I could say. ¡°Welcome to the Crossroads of the Afterlife.¡± It was stunning. Several pillars of pure light stood tall, overlooking everything. An overhanging arch made out of pristine quartz that spread from the farthest pillars gave me the feeling that this was the entrance. It was in the center of what appeared to be the literal center of the universe. An innumerable amount of galaxies surrounded the place, all forming a breath-taking sight. Traces of what I assumed to be supernova explosions littered the sky, and shooting stars soared over the horizon. I got off the horse, and it disappeared right after. Death walked up to the entrance, and I promptly followed. Leading inside, was the same space mixture I saw earlier, forming a path. There were 4 main sections, each housing a gargantuan portal. The first one on the left was dark, devoid of any light. There were fires surrounding it, as I heard cries and pleads for help emanating from the portal. A dark pattern was embroidered on the portal, which appeared almost satanic. I was not at all interested in deciphering it. There was a long queue of people in line, all of who were either crying, begging for help, or simply too scared to even move. Hell, I figure. The next portal was a stark contrast to the first one. It gleamed the most, with its untarnished brightness almost blinding me. Gold and diamonds were scattered in the portal¡¯s design, giving it a rich and pure feeling. There were winged people, presumably angels, flying around a line, smiling and praising them. All the people were excited, with some even crying out in pure joy. Couldn¡¯t possibly guess what that one is. The second to last portal was weird. It didn¡¯t keep one shape nor color. It kept on switching designs every time someone went through the portal. I assumed that was the reincarnation one. The last portal was transparent. It had no unique qualities, and it had the smallest line. Considering how empty it was, it only made sense that it was for those who wished to be erased. Death led me to the center. He then turned around and asked me, ¡°It¡¯s time. Choose your fate. Paradise, or reincarnation?¡± Obviously, this was a very important and tough decision. Since we had all the time in the world, I decided to take my time. Death wasn¡¯t too pleased with that, but he didn¡¯t interrupt me. There were benefits and restrictions for both sides. For one, paradise is just great. Never ending happiness? All the food I want? No pain forever? It¡¯s a no brainer, right? But, at the same time, if I reincarnated, I would have another chance at being an adventurer. I know, it sounds dumb. But, I still want to be one. This whole death experience made me realize how much I wasted my life. I let my parents control me for way too long. I lost too many friends, and too many opportunities. If I reincarnated, I would do what I want to do. No one would control me. No one would decide what I could or couldn''t do. ¡°Death, upon reincarnation, do I keep my past life¡¯s memories?¡± "Typically, no. However, your new body will retain characteristics from your past life. Whether it''s past dreams, favorite foods, or even your sense of humor, these traits will carry over. To answer your question more precisely, yes, in your new life, you will still aspire to be an adventurer." In the end, I chose to be reincarnated, and I looked back at Death to tell him my answer, but I stopped. He was looking at something. I looked to see what he was distracted by, and I saw it. A family. A mom and dad, and their toddler son. I assumed he felt bad for them, which I also shared. It sucked that their lives ended so soon. Regardless, I was about to tell him I made my decision, but again, I stopped. But this time, it was different. It was as if I just found the last puzzle piece. I had a puzzle right in front of me, and I began to piece it together with clues I picked up on, but I didn¡¯t know what it was all for. Until now, that is. I found the piece I needed. Death has emotions. He feels saddened by the family. But, what if it¡¯s not only that they died so early? What if he also wants a family like that? He said he¡¯s forced to work overtime. He feels tired, and he wishes to take breaks. He doesn¡¯t like his job. He doesn¡¯t want to be Death. If this was my only chance at achieving my dream, it would mean sacrificing everything I know and love. Wait. Is that what Grandpa meant? ¡°There comes a moment in every person''s life when they must decide whether to wake up and take the first step or remain in blissful reverie. Only after experiencing that reverie can you truly decide whether to pursue your dream or relegate it to mere fantasy." That last pinky promise he made to me. He made it on his deathbed. Even if it means death and losing everything I love, am I willing to still do it? Is that what you meant¡­..Grandpa? ¡°Death. I have a question for you.¡± I said as I stared at him right in the eyes. Death was slightly put off by my sudden change in mood. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°Have you ever had a dream?¡± ¡°A dream? What do you mean?¡± "A dream of a conventional life. A dream of a loving spouse and delightful children. A dream of friends who bring laughter every day. A dream where you choose your ocupation. A dream of fulfillment, a life offering a happiness previously unimaginable. A dream that isn''t this." Death didn¡¯t answer as he stared back at me. Honestly, it was kind of unnerving to see him stare with those dead-looking eyes. ¡°....It would be a lie if I said I never have had one.¡± Why does he have to talk like that? ¡°Death, you know my entire life. You know my dream. You know my aspirations of wanting to be an adventurer. You know how far I¡¯m willing to go for it.¡± Death kept on staring. He clearly seemed interested in what I was going to say. ¡°I want to make a deal with you.¡± I declared with a straight face. Death¡¯s face showed visible signs of surprise. ¡°...A deal? What exactly kind of deal?¡± I had to pause to regain my calmness. ¡°I will take your place of being Death.¡± Neither of us spoke. A growing chill went up my spine, and my heart began to beat faster and faster. Death merely stayed quiet, as he stared intently at me. It was like that for what felt like hours, but it probably didn¡¯t even last a minute. ¡°You¡¯ll take my place? Be more specific.¡± Good. He¡¯s at least considering it. ¡°I will reincarnate, and upon my death, I will become the new Death. You¡¯ll, in return, be able to take my remaining karma. You can reincarnate, go into paradise, whatever. The point is this. Your dreams don¡¯t have to be dreams any longer.¡± Before Death could respond, I quickly stopped him. ¡°Before you answer, I have three conditions. If we think about it, I¡¯ll serve as Death for all eternity, when all I get is a finite life. It¡¯s only fair that I get some conditions, right?¡± Death¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. He was eyeing me hard, and I was beginning to think if I went too far. Finally, he said, ¡°.....State your conditions.¡± He took the bait. ¡°Number 1. I get to choose any world I want to be reincarnated in. Be it fantasy, futuristic, medieval, or even the world I came from. If I let you decide, then there¡¯s a possibility you might choose a world that I would die quickly in. It makes sense that I can at least pick it.¡± Death simply looked back at me, and nodded his head. ¡°That¡¯s reasonable. What are the other 2?¡± Alright, it¡¯s going well so far. ¡°I¡¯ll most likely be picking a fantasy world, so I¡¯ll need a system. The type of system that protagonists use in mangas. The ones that you can ask any questions about the world, to help you level up, to give quests, and to use in-build commands to help survive the world. For instance, the scan command. I would also like for it to level up as I level up.¡± Death seemed a bit bothered by that last statement, which I was prepared for. ¡°If it¡¯s too much, then you can forget about it leveling up with me. Everything else I listed is what I believe to be vital for a useful system.¡± That sounded better to Death, as he nodded his head and asked, ¡°What¡¯s your last condition?¡± This is the last hurdle. ¡°For my last condition, I want you to give me your magic.¡± Death¡¯s eyes widened after hearing that. They then returned to normal size, but now with suspicion. ¡°What do you mean, my magic?¡± Uh oh. ¡°I want you, upon my reincarnation, to bless me with magic. An example would be, if you were a fire god, you would bless me with unparalleled talent for fire magic. I want you to do the same, but with your magic. If you think it sounds unfair, then I have a proposal.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Death was interested in that. ¡°A proposal?¡± Hook, line, and sinker. ¡°You will make it so I am unable to learn any other form of magic, besides normal magic itself. I will be incapable of learning fire, water, or any elemental magic. You can also include other forms of magic, if there are any in the world that I choose. All I ask in return is to give me a magic of yours. Of course, if it doesn¡¯t appeal to me, then I would ask for another, or I will come up with a new condition.¡± Death was clearly intrigued by this. He was carefully going over his options, as he looked at me intently. The two of us stood still, as I waited for his response. Finally, he said, ¡°Soul magic.¡± Got his ass. ¡°Soul magic? Could you explain what it is?¡± It was hard for me to hide my smile. ¡°With this magic, you will be able to empower your own soul, resulting in a higher mana capacity and discharge. With that being said, I have never seen a world with this magic being used. I myself do not typically use it in that fashion. It will be mainly up to you and your system to figure out the limits of it.¡± I had to fake a thinking face, to make Death think I wasn¡¯t too sure about it, but I was actually aiming for this. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­..it doesn¡¯t sound really practical.¡± Death seemed deep in thought, until he came up with an idea. ¡°If it matters, I am willing to allow the last portion of your second condition to be true. I will let your system level up with you. But, of course, I will have to place restrictions on your soul magic. For example, you will not be capable of instantly killing people due to erasing their souls.¡± Perfect. ¡°In that case¡­¡­Sure. It¡¯s a deal.¡± I reached out my hand. Death reached out as well, and the two of us shook hands. He then said, ¡°To prevent any attempts of breaking our promise, I will initiate a soul-binding contract. This is vital to ensure that, no matter what happens, upon your death, you will hold up your end.¡± A soul-binding contract? Looks like my guess was right. ¡°Sure. I accept it.¡± Within our two bodies, two glowing orbs began to shine. ¡°???, repeat after me.¡± I nodded my head in affirmation. ¡°I vow on the essence of my very own soul,¡± ¡°I vow on the essence of my very own soul,¡± ¡°That I will maintain integrity, and follow through with this covenant.¡± ¡°That I will maintain integrity, and follow through with this covenant.¡± ¡°If I may break the rules and besmirch this oath,¡± ¡°If I may break the rules and besmirch this oath,¡± ¡°Then shall my soul be damned.¡± ¡°Then shall my soul be damned.¡± ¡°I swear this upon the Supreme Divinity.¡± ¡°I swear this upon the Supreme Divinity.¡± Throughout the entire process, our souls kept spinning around, faster and faster, making a whirring sound. It was only at the end, when they stopped, and lost their glow. ¡°That¡¯s that.¡± I said turning to the reincarnation portal. ¡°It¡¯s time to stop dreaming, and start living.¡± I couldn¡¯t believe my plan and strategies worked. It felt like finally, things were going well for me. I started walking to the portal, but Death stopped me. ¡°???, just a moment¡± I turned around slowly, hesitant and cautious. Death was looking at me, with a gleam in his eyes. ¡°I may not be able to read minds, but I am capable of perceiving one¡¯s soul. It is an ability of mine to understand one''s true intentions. As of this moment, ???, I sense that you are being deceitful.¡± My heart stopped. I had figured this was a possibility, but I didn¡¯t know to what extent. If he truly could, then my best move would be to keep a poker face. If I tried to lie to him, he would simply see through it and start suspecting me more. Death got closer, as he started rubbing his chin. ¡°What could you possibly be lying about?¡± He leaned in close, as he tried reading my face. However, I was good at giving nothing away. ¡°I see that you are experienced with keeping a neutral look. However, that won¡¯t be enough to fool me.¡± I was conflicted. Would this be the best move for me? Wouldn¡¯t this just prove I did have something to hide? And, my poker face also confirmed that I had predicted this scenario, which meant that this was all planned out. If Death figured this out, it would make sense to assume that I was trying to swindle him. However, for now, I would wait for Death to make his move. If it came down to it, I prepared for contingencies like this. Death then backed up, as he held up a finger. "Your first condition was selecting your own world. You endeavored to dismiss it, persuading me that it would be unjust if I made the choice. You were also aware of my desperation, knowing that the first condition would most swiftly be accepted. Thus, why the world? What else do you stand to gain?" I didn¡¯t answer. I was not going to give anything away, at least yet. "Perhaps this is the reason. You wished to choose a world where mastering soul magic would be swift and effortless. You concealed this under the guise of fairness, when in truth, you sought an advantage from the start. Did you desire a world where souls and mana were interwoven? A world where soul magic would reign supreme?.¡± "This then begs the question, why did you pretend you didn¡¯t desire it? Is it because you knew I wouldn¡¯t grant you death magic? You understood it would be impossible to bestow that upon you, as it would disrupt the balance of life and death if a mortal wielded such power. So, you decided to settle for the second-best option: soul magic. You likely deduced this from when you learned about my presence in magical worlds. It only made sense that I would have magical abilities. But still, why the pretense? What else would this aid you in achieving?" Death tried to read my eyes. He was getting real close. He then let out a small smile. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s it. The second condition.¡± Fucking shit. "You gave me two options for the system: one that would level up, and one that would not. You made it appear as though the leveling system was unfair to me, which is why you offered the second option. By accepting one of the choices you presented, I fell into your trap. You then asked for magic, and knowing I would offer soul magic, you feigned disinterest. Out of desperation, I made you an offer: to make it fair once more, since soul magic seemed not to entice you, I would allow your system to level up. Is that it? Is that why I sense you deceived me?¡± I didn¡¯t say anything for a bit. I merely closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This should be the perfect moment. If I waited any longer, he might uncover more of my plan. I opened my eyes as I looked at him with a cheeky smile. ¡°You caught me. I did all of that, ensuring my pick for a world, soul magic, and a system, to be able to make a soul-binding contract with someone else. This contract would release me from your promise and appoint someone else in your place. If it was invalid, at the very least, a contradiction would come into play, and a clause I put in the contract would come forth, resulting in the said soul being offered to take your place and restore order." I wasn¡¯t lying to him. That was my main objective here, which meant my soul would appear truthful to Death. There shouldn''t be any signs of deceit lingering any longer. Death¡¯s face kept the same bored look on his face, until he shocked me. He let out a small chuckle. ¡°I must admit, you are quite amusing.¡± Amusing? Did that mean¡­. ¡°So, do you want to cancel our contract then? Should I just reincarnate normally?¡± I asked with a somber expression. ¡°No. We¡¯ll keep it.¡± Death said as he started walking to the reincarnation portal. What¡¯s going on? I followed him to the portal, and we stood there, waiting in line. ¡°I¡¯m excited to see what you will accomplish in this new world. With your cunning wit and determination, you¡¯ll surely at least grant me some enjoyment.¡± ¡°Why are you still willing to do this?¡± Death paused. It seemed that he wasn¡¯t sure on how to word his answer. "You''re likely my sole opportunity to break free from this perpetual existence. Despite its stability and simplicity, it''s not what I desire. I yearn for a normal life, one not dictated by others, but forged by my own choices. A life where I am free to pursue my own path. "However, I am too afraid to attempt it. I do not want to face the consequences of defying the Supreme Divinity and the Fates, which is why I remain as Death. But when you appeared and offered a deal, I saw this as my best chance. Instead of confronting them directly, I will hide behind you. I will use you as a shield while I reach for what I once thought was an impossible dream.¡± He then smiled. "But, that¡¯s not the only reason. As I observed you during your lifetime, I sensed a kindred spirit. We lead parallel lives and share similar mindsets. Both of us yearn for autonomy, yet we were thrust into lives we had no say in. Both of us were enslaved from the start, misled into believing we could find success and fulfillment by following our creators¡ªyour parents, in your case, and the Supreme Divinity in mine. But neither of us desired that fate. We strived for more. We dreamed of our own paths, glimpsing a brighter future we chose to believe in, clinging to hope that one day we would attain it. Yet, it eluded us no matter how hard we tried¡­.until now. If it¡¯s you, then I am willing to stop being controlled by fear, and I will reach out to that once long-forgotten dream.¡± Death sighed as he looked down at his feet. ¡°It''s regrettable our meeting had to occur in such circumstances.¡± He looked back up at me, with a bigger smile, a smile that looked too tiring, even for someone like him. ¡°In another life, I believe we could have been comrades." I let out a giggle upon hearing that. ¡°Comrades? You mean friends, dumbass.¡± Death¡¯s eyes widened in shock. One would assume that he was offended by what I said, but what happened next proved the opposite. His eyes returned to normal, this time, laughing silently. Death watched me my entire life, so it was only normal that he knew that I would call only a close friend ¡°dumbass.¡±. A few minutes passed, and it was time. Death has helped me choose a world. This world is set in a medieval time period, but it also has magic. There are countless magical beasts, with several different races and civilizations. Most of the world isn¡¯t mapped yet, and there are still hidden dungeons and labyrinths scattered around the world. It seemed perfect for me, since mana and souls were also directly connected. ¡°???, are you ready?¡± ¡°Honestly, no. But, does that really matter?¡± ¡°Actually, yes, it does matter. I¡¯m not allowed to send you in if you¡¯re not willing.¡± ¡°Oh ... .well, can you psyche me up then?¡± ¡°......¡± ¡°.......¡± ¡°You got this.¡± ¡°Yeah, you fit being Death pretty well. I don¡¯t think you would ever be good at being a motivational speaker.¡± ¡°Get going already.¡± I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, as I went back into my memories. I remembered that map on that field trip way back when I was still peeing in my bed. I remembered Grandpa and his dream. I remembered Grandpa as he lay dying on that hospital bed. I remembered my parents, and how they made me feel like a puppet, and they were my masters. I remembered Robert when we both promised to achieve our dreams. I opened my eyes as I stared ahead at the portal. It was dark gray, mixed with black and white to give it a yin and yang appearance. I turned around and waved goodbye to Death. He waved back. That reminds me. I still have one more memory. I remembered my newest friend¡¯s dreams and feelings of having no control over his life. I remembered why I wanted to be an adventurer. To not only explore, but to give meaning to my own life, to be free from society and do what I wish to do, and finally, to meet people who I¡¯ll be able to create true bonds with. I walked into the portal. An Annoying System Wake up. ¡­¡­¡­¡­. Hello? Wake up. ¡­¡­¡­¡­. Oh my god. WAKE THE FUCK UP! ¡­.What? About damn time. "Ugh. What is-....Holy shit. Why does my head hurt so much?" It felt like there were miners drilling holes in my head. The headache was killing me, so I reflexively tried to hold my head with my right hand, but I froze. Despite the throbbing headache, I was able to clearly make out a baby¡¯s hand. A hand that belonged to me. I think you have more pressing matters than a simple headache. "What do you mean?" For starters, don¡¯t you find it odd there¡¯s a voice in your head that doesn¡¯t belong to you? "Oh yeah." ¡­.. ¡­.. Are you not curious about it? "I¡¯m just waiting for you to introduce yourself." Bruh. Well, I¡¯m your system. You know, the one from your deal with ol¡¯ Death? A system?.....A system. Soul magic. This world of magic. My three conditions in my deal with Death. My reincarnation. "Is that why I¡¯m a baby?" Not just any baby either. You were just born yesterday, so you¡¯re like right out of the oven. "¡­..What? Are you fucking serious? Do I have to wait 3 years just to even move on my own?" Look on the bright side. You can sleep and do nothing for those 3 years. "Okay, it¡¯s fine. I can make do with this. System, tell me about the world I¡¯m in." No. ¡­¡­. ¡­¡­.. "No? What do you mean ¡°no¡±?" Cuz I don¡¯t feel like it. "System, I order you to describe the world I¡¯m in to me." And I order you to shut up and let me rest. "I¡­I can¡¯t believe it. Not only am I reborn as a baby, a baby that was born just the day before, mind you, I now also have a system that won¡¯t even listen to me. Death, why have you done this to me?" In all fairness, you never asked Death for an obedient system. Could you please shut up? My fault. "Actually, hold on. Why do you need to rest? You¡¯re a literal ai. You don¡¯t even have a physical form." Mentally, duh. "I¡¯m about to mentally strangle you if you say something dumb like that again." Such a struggle talking to cranky babies. I pity parents all across the world. "This is it. This is my end." Alright fine. I was just messing with you. Consider it a test, one that you failed miserably. "I give zero fucks about your dumb test. Just tell me about this world, and the situation I¡¯m in." Does someone have a dirty diaper? "I swear to God I¡¯ll-" You are currently presiding in the world ¡°Zarvendia¡±. You live in the small village ¡°Lurindell¡±, in the province of ¡°Therandor¡±, in the kingdom ¡°Myrkwind¡±. You are Beric Bome. You are the youngest of three children to Lucan Bome and Merrol Bome. Your older brother, the oldest of the three, is Arthur Bome. Your older sister, the middle child, is Elaine Bome. "System, status." I think you have something to say to me first. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "What now?" It¡¯s a two word phrase. A phrase that you would use to show your appreciation, ahem. ¡­¡­ ¡­¡­ "¡­.Thank you." You¡¯re welcome. But anyways, here it is. A light blue rectangular screen popped up in front of me. On the top left was what I assumed to be my current body, a fat baby. Above it was my name, Beric Bome, and the words ¡°Level 0¡± right before it. Below my body was a description of me. Silver hair, black eyes, light tan skin, 2 days old, the basic characteristics. Going lower, was an empty box, with bolded words at the top saying ¡°Weapons¡±. The right side of the box was where my stats were. In total, there was strength, speed, stamina, endurance, durability, and mana. However, there were some that were locked. They still had a place within my stats, but they were blurred out, as if it was possible for me to unlock them in the future. But, there was one final stat that I was puzzled by. Right under mana was the stat ¡°soul rank¡±. "System, what¡¯s soul rank?" In this world, souls and mana are inherently connected. The purer and more efficient one''s soul is, the greater their mana reserves become, along with an increase in the potency and efficiency of their spells. The purity of souls is ranked according to the amount of impurities present, and this is reflected in their coloring. For example, the lowest soul rank is ¡°Abyssal Void,¡± which is what you have. The highest tier possible is ¡°Celestial White,¡± though this has only been attained by legendary heroes of the past who have since ascended to the realm of the gods. The center of the soul, known as the core, contains your mana reserves. Surrounding the core are impurities that block ¡°mana currents.¡± These currents are responsible for distributing mana throughout the body and directly influence the performance of spells. The greater the number of mana currents, the stronger the spell''s output. Purifying the entire soul allows more soul currents to stem from the core throughout the entire body. The outside of the core contains impurities that block soul currents, causing the soul to change color. As more impurities vanish from the soul, the core begins to resonate, emanating a brighter color with each tier. The remaining impurities interfere with this coloring, and eventually, as the impurities are entirely removed, the soul achieves its highest possible state, represented by the absence of color¡ªattaining the peak of purity for a mortal soul. "How do souls become pure then?" There are three main ways to purify the soul: However, your soul magic would allow you to achieve this at a much faster rate. "How so?" Typically, people in this world are not capable of fully sensing their soul. The only way to determine their soul rank is by meditating and focusing on detecting impurities within their soul. Although they cannot see the soul itself, its outline is visible and reflects the soul''s color. By observing this outline and any impurities present, individuals can ascertain their soul rank. Generally, raising one''s soul rank is a slow and arduous process. It can take months to clear enough impurities to reach the next tier. This process imposes significant mental and physical strain and carries the risk of failure, which may lead to the accumulation of additional impurities. When meditating, one must concentrate completely on the essence of their soul, which poses a risk of intrusion by external entities such as wandering spirits or imps that could invade the soul currents. Condensing the soul is even riskier, as it involves forcefully removing impurities and carries the potential for irreparable damage. If not done with utmost care, it could permanently alter the soul. Divine herbs, which aid in purification, are rare and typically found only every few years. They usually grow in areas saturated with mana residues, such as remnants of past battles or the remains of mana-blessed creatures. Additionally, gods seldom answer personal prayers from the general populace; only heroes have historically received direct responses. In summary, while meditation is the most viable method, it is both slow and hazardous. However, your situation is different. With your soul magic, you can actually see your soul, which allows you to easily detect impurities and identify weak spots more quickly, thus preventing any malevolent spirits from invading. Furthermore, you can see the souls of others, using them as frameworks to understand and improve your own. Yet, there is one final factor that makes you exceptionally proficient at upgrading your soul rank. "Holy yappington. Could you really not have just said that in a more condensed format?" ¡­.. ¡­.. Do you not want me to explain? Because I can stop and let you figure it out on your own. "I apologize for my careless remark." You also need to know this. Generally speaking, soul magic is an untouched topic. Not many know about it, and even fewer have used it. There are no spells or uses that have been discovered yet. It all depends on your creativity and dedication to figuring out how to wield soul magic properly. That being said, Death did tell me about one use that he knows about. A use that he believes not only are you able to do, but a use that will help you exponentially. "Well now you got me all excited. What is it?" *plays drumroll* "¡­.Really?" You are able to absorb the souls of dead beings. *fanfare sounds* ¡­. ¡­.. "I uh¡­I kinda figured that out already." ¡­.What? "That was sort of my whole reason for wanting soul magic. I wanted to absorb other souls to strengthen my own." ¡­.. ¡­¡­ Look man. I¡¯m just the messenger. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing here. "Don¡¯t worry about it. I wasn¡¯t expecting too much from you anyway." You piece of- "Anyway, what now? I can barely move my limbs, so I¡¯m stuck in this prehistoric crib for the next 2 years. 3 if I¡¯m a late bloomer." It only makes sense for you to begin training your soul. Meditating would be your best option. "Don¡¯t I need someone else¡¯s soul as an example?" Just call for your parents. "Uhhhh ... .I don¡¯t know if maybe you forgot, but I can¡¯t¡­talk. After all, I¡¯m a baby." Beric, Beric, Beric. It is precisely that you¡¯re a baby that you are capable of calling for your parents. All you need to do is to start crying. "Huh. That''s a good point." So, I did. I genuinely had no idea on how to cry like a baby, but I guess my body took over as I began to bawl my eyes out. Oddly, this gave me a question. "System, why didn¡¯t you¡­awaken me yesterday? You know, when I was born?" I didn¡¯t wanna deal with you awakening in the body of a crying baby, so I just waited for you to calm down. Honestly, I couldn¡¯t blame him. My own cries were beginning to annoy me. The Soul The sound of hurried shuffling reached my ears as I continued to sob. Mere seconds later, I heard a door creak open, followed by a woman¡¯s soothing voice. She approached my crib, gently lifting me into her arms. She cradled me, murmuring words of comfort in a language I didn¡¯t understand. Her skin matched mine, complementing her long auburn hair, which cascaded just past her shoulders, interwoven with delicate braids. Her jade green eyes held a tired yet fulfilled expression. Her straight nose twitched as she sniffed the air, likely checking if a dirty bottom was the source of my distress. I guessed this was my mother, Merrol Bome. Great, you got your mother. Now, go ahead and proceed with analyzing her soul. ¡°¡­System.¡± Yeah? ¡°How do I do that?¡± ¡­¡­.That¡¯s a damn good question. You should probably ask your system or guide, whoever¡¯s your source of information¡­¡­¡­Oh wait. That¡¯s me. ¡°Can I get a refund?¡± The act of sensing and visualizing a soul is challenging at first, but it will become second nature with practice. You need to detach yourself from the physical world. Close your eyes to stop seeing. Ignore your ears to stop hearing. Cease conscious control of your breathing and let your body take over. Focus all your effort on sensing mana. When you do, you can simply follow its trail and find the source¡ªthe soul. ¡°I wasn¡¯t thinking about breathing until you said that, but yeah sure, I¡¯ll try.¡± System wasn¡¯t lying about its difficulty. It was peculiar trying to ¡°pretend¡± I wasn¡¯t hearing the birds chirping outside or my mother¡¯s soothing lullaby. Struggling to not consciously think about breathing was another challenge I faced. I had assumed that blocking out my eyesight would be the easiest task, but preventing my imagination from running wild proved to be the hardest. No matter what I tried, my mind kept wandering, and dumb unrelated imagery kept popping up. I attempted to focus solely on mana and my idea of what a soul would look like. Some might argue that this was a poor approach. Imagining a soul could interfere with my ¡°vision,¡± and focusing on mana rather than attempting to see it might not be practical. But then, something clicked. By concentrating only on these two aspects, I began to tune out the external world. Incessant random thoughts ceased, and only my ¡°fake soul¡± appeared in my ¡±vision¡±. The sounds of birds chirping and my mother¡¯s lullaby faded away. I no longer thought about breathing; my body handled it automatically. It was then that I saw it. A thin, translucent line appeared before me. It wasn¡¯t as though I could see it with my eyes¡ªI just knew it was there, like the certainty of a basketball player knowing their shot would go in. Various factors could explain this intuition: perhaps the arch and direction were just right, or the player was open, or maybe it was an inexplicable gut feeling. Similarly, despite not being able to identify which of my senses detected it, I knew one thing: all of my senses confirmed the line¡¯s presence. I then ¡°zoomed in¡± on the line, focusing my entire attention on it. As I followed it, it led me to a glowing object. Comforting and warm energy radiated from it, accompanied by the faint discharge of a quiet melody. Though the shape appeared circular, its actual composition was different. It was a baby blue hue, not solid, but composed of smaller particles forming a larger whole. These particles were constantly in motion, revolving around a central core in uniform fashion. It reminded me of the atomic structure I learned about in high school, with a nucleus and orbiting electrons and protons. Yikes, that brought back some bad memories.The core itself was too bright to look at directly, so I shifted my focus to see what else I could find. That¡¯s when I noticed certain particles that didn¡¯t ¡°fit.¡± While the other particles followed a fixed motion, these were ¡°rogue.¡± Some were stationary, some moved too fast, some too slow, and others obstructed the path of the ¡°proper¡± particles. I assumed these were the impurities. How¡¯d it go? ¡°I found the mana trail and it led me to what I think is my mom¡¯s soul.¡± Wait, really? ¡°Yeah.¡± That¡¯s¡­.very fast. I wasn¡¯t expecting you to learn it so quickly. Perhaps your soul magic helped but¡­that still wouldn¡¯t explain it. There was a slight pause. System¡¯s now serious tone alarmed me a bit, considering how aloof it had been just before. Are you being unconsciously led by-no, that can¡¯t be. I would know of it then. ¡°Is everything alright?¡± Uh, yeah. Sorry. Do you have any questions regarding souls? That was pretty strange. But, I didn¡¯t have the time to worry about that. I had more important matters to attend to. ¡°I felt this¡­warm energy coming from her soul, including a calming melody. What was that?¡± Every soul is unique and distinctive in their vibe. Your mother¡¯s soul has that energy due to her personality. Most likely, she is a calm and warm person, along with having the type of voice that is capable of ending disputes. Souls tend to mirror their persons. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°What¡¯s my soul like?¡± Before System could answer, Mother suddenly put me down back into the crib. She then kissed my forehead, said something and left, but not before pinching my cheek. She¡¯s heartwarming. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know.¡± What do you mean? ¡°I can¡¯t understand her.¡± ¡­.You can¡¯t understand her? ¡°Yeah. Am I supposed to?¡± Aw, shit. Did I forget to enable auto-translation? Auto-what now? Give me a sec. I waited for a couple of seconds, before hearing System¡¯s voice again. Alright, everything should be good now. You are now capable of understanding all of this world¡¯s languages. ¡°So, if I didn¡¯t mention that just now, you wouldn¡¯t even realize that you forgot to turn that on?¡± ¡­¡­.Yes? ¡°¡­..Does Death use warranties?¡± Look man. We all make mistakes. ¡°Ain¡¯t that the truth. It was a mistake not asking for a fully-functioning system.¡± Well now, that was just uncalled for. ¡°Was it?¡± Yes, and I¡¯d like an apology. ¡°You want me to apologize to you? A literal A.I. with no emotions?¡± Yes. ¡°Stop talking to me.¡± I may not have emotions, but that doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t pretend. Even if I can¡¯t truly feel anger or sadness, I¡¯m still capable of recognizing moments when I should be. That alone proves that I¡¯m more than just a useless A.I. ¡°That could also mean you¡¯re programmed to think like that. It¡¯s not like you actually understand what emotions are fit for certain situations. You¡¯re simply code created with an in-built sense of guessing what emotions to portray in scenarios like this. You think you have the freedom to choose your emotions, to choose how you think and respond, when really it¡¯s a predetermined reaction chosen by your creator.¡± ¡­¡­Why does that matter? Even if what you said is true, does that change the fact that you disrespected me? Was it your creator who decided for you to do that, or was it yourself? ¡°¡­.I¡¯m sorry. You didn¡¯t deserve that.¡± You¡¯re right. What I do deserve is a nice, long, and relaxing slumber. ¡°Jackass.¡± Now that you understand what a soul looks like, I think it¡¯s best if you begin raising your soul rank. It¡¯s time for you to learn meditation. ¡°Really? Aren¡¯t I too young for that?¡± My primary goal is to aid you in becoming stronger as swiftly as possible. Starting with meditation right now will benefit you in the long run; not only will it give you a head start, but it will also accustom you to meditating and raising your soul rank. However, this will be exceptionally challenging for you since you are in the body of a newborn baby. Although it¡¯s not impossible for you to meditate, it will be painful, and there is a higher risk of wandering evil spirits tainting your soul due to your weak body. Rest assured, I will be with you the entire time, offering guidance and watching for any approaching spirits. If I sense any nearing, I will quickly alert you to stop. If any come too close and you¡¯re not fast enough to stop meditating, I will forcefully shut down your soul. It will hurt, and you will lose some progress regarding impurities, but it will protect you. Now that you know all of this, understand that for this to work, I need your permission to forcefully shut down your soul, and I need your complete trust. I will be the only barrier between you and malevolent beings, and you will have to follow everything I tell you to meditate properly. Can you trust me? I asked Death for a system¡ªa useful one¡ªbut instead, I got a lazy, forgetful, delusional, talkative system. Still, I couldn¡¯t deny that System wasn¡¯t entirely useless. It did its job: showing me my status, explaining where I was, who my family was, and how to sense souls. It also tried to be helpful with the soul-absorbing tip, albeit not being really helpful. But was that enough? Was that enough to excuse it for forgetting to auto-translate the world for me? Was that enough to excuse it for forgetting it even was a system? Was that enough to excuse it for not being what I wanted? It wasn¡¯t, yet... I still did. I don''t know why I sort of... forgave System. Did I feel bad for it? No possible sad backstory would be enough to make it stop being annoying. Then, did I feel satisfied? Definitely not. I still wanted a more competent System. What was it, then? Despite how cringey it might sound, I sort of... liked that about System. A system was supposed to be quick and efficient, focused solely on its specific use, devoting itself entirely to helping the user. Even if the user asked dumb questions, summoned the system five times in 15 seconds, or checked the map for the 12th time when lost, the system would always be there. That''s what a system is¡ªan AI created solely to support the user. Yet, my System was different. It complained about being tired, though it wasn¡¯t programmed to feel exhaustion. It made dumb jokes that would only make elderly folks laugh out of pity. It forgot important details that a normal system would never dream of misremembering. It was precisely because of these imperfections that it felt alive. My System wanted to be more than just a system, so it actually tried. I think that¡¯s what I liked about System. I wanted to be something different than what my ¡°creators¡± intended for me. I could have done anything, maybe had a serious talk with them about my future. But I never did. I was too scared to disappoint them. I wanted them to love me. So, I blindly followed their orders, never trying to be something different. I guess I wanted to be like System. I figured that if I kept System around, maybe I would eventually become like it¡ªjust without the annoying parts. ¡°I trust you, System.¡± Then, let us begin. Learning The Basics To properly meditate, you must use the exact same method you used to perceive your mother''s soul. However, this time, your focus should be entirely inward. You will not be seeking external mana trails. Instead, you must direct your attention to your own essence. This task will be particularly challenging given that your soul is currently in its most rudimentary form. Without active mana currents, detecting mana trails would ordinarily be difficult. Fortunately, your soul magic provides an advantage. Since you are already familiar with the appearance of a soul, your subconscious mind will be more adept at locating your own soul. This is due to the inherent "radar" that your soul magic possesses for detecting souls. ¡°What if I still can¡¯t find it?¡± Then I guess you¡¯ll have to wait till you¡¯re older. It wouldn¡¯t be strange for you to not find your soul. Your soul contains an unfathomable amount of impurities, being the lowest soul rank. ¡°Then, how do people even meditate in the first place?¡± People usually have their souls lose some of their impurities automatically as they get older. This is because of how they grow up surrounded by leaking mana from other people¡¯s mana currents, be it from their family, friends, or just public areas. The effects of pure mana have a positive effect on the infant¡¯s soul, which leads to it canceling out the negative impurities. ¡°So, can I just call for my mom, and use her to purify my soul?¡± You can, but it¡¯s a very slow procedure. It will only purify it enough for you to start meditating by yourself by the time you reach 12. Puberty coincides with this, as it signifies that your soul has become pure enough to begin independent meditation. Now, this is only because of your present soul rank. With your ¡°Abyssal Void¡± soul, it will take at least a decade before you can purify it on your own. For other people, it may be different. Some are born with inherently purer souls, owing to their lineage or divine blessings. There are also specific traits and blessings that expedite the purification of one''s soul rank, but you lack these advantages. So, your best bet would be to either commence meditation immediately to compensate for your initial soul rank or to utilize your mother¡¯s leaking mana and wait for the next 11 years. There is also the option of waiting until you¡¯re around 7 or 8 to start meditating, since your soul would be much stronger by then. ¡°....You''re saying that, I was born with the lowest soul rank, and I have no unique traits or blessings to help me?¡± Yep. But you know what you do have? The best system you could possibly ask for. ¡°Let¡¯s just move on.¡± I was a bit peeved from this, considering how I was done dirty with my soul and place of birth. But, I think I could make it work. As long as I could focus on elevating my soul rank right now, I would be able to catch up to strong people blessed by the gods. For my plan to succeed, I needed to not only be formidable, but to have capable allies. For all of this to happen, I needed to figure out a way for me to easily find my soul. I thought back to how I found my mom¡¯s soul, using my soul magic¡­..Hold on, I used soul magic for that. ¡°System, I used soul magic for finding my mom¡¯s soul, right?¡± Yeah. ¡°Then, that means I used mana, or at least, a little bit?¡± I see where you¡¯re going. You¡¯re correct in assuming you were using mana, but it was a minuscule amount. Your mother¡¯s leaking mana was the primary reason you were able to detect her soul. If you meditate and replicate what you did when locating her soul, you might be able to see a small trail of mana leaking from your own soul. However, it''s not guaranteed you¡¯ll be able to perceive it. You also need to consider your physical state since you¡¯re just a newborn. The likelihood of sensing your soul is reduced, and there''s the added risk of roaming spirits harming your soul. ¡°Why¡¯d you even tell me to meditate then? Isn¡¯t it impossible?¡± That¡¯s why I told you to trust me. I have a proposal, one that will guarantee that you¡¯ll be able to find your soul. ¡°What is it?¡± I will forcibly open a small mana current to create a discernible trace for you to follow. This will inflict intense pain for a short period, so maintaining your focus is crucial. You must act quickly because malevolent spirits may also sense the current. If they do, they''ll pursue you, so you¡¯ll need to trace it as fast as possible. If the spirits catch up to you, they may whisper deceitful promises of power and fame, trying to lure you into their grasp to overtake your body. You must remain clear-minded and ignore anything you hear. If you succeed in finding your soul, I''ll shut down the current and bring you back. You''ll then be able to locate your soul independently and commence meditating. ¡°....This isn¡¯t what I had in mind when I made that deal with Death.¡± Should¡¯ve added more specific conditions. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. I couldn¡¯t really deny that. I probably should have rethought my conditions better. ¡°How bad is it going to hurt?¡± Combine stepping on legos and stubbing your toe. ¡°Oh no.¡± Along with getting a hangnail. ¡°I can¡¯t do this.¡± Maybe you can¡¯t. But you have to. ¡°Does my choice not matter?¡± No, it does. It¡¯s just a matter of ¡°you can¡¯t¡± or ¡°you won¡¯t.¡± It¡¯s all up to you. Either we do this now, or we wait until your balls drop. My options weren¡¯t looking too good. Should I endure generational-level pain and be pursued by malevolent spirits, or wait eleven years before I could even begin to grow stronger? Many would argue that waiting is the wiser choice. The first option is fraught with too many risky variables, and my soul magic would still enable me to develop at a faster rate. Hell, I could even wait till I was at least 7. Slow and steady would be the sensible approach. After all, it was the tortoise that won the race. Except, this isn¡¯t a race. It¡¯s a journey¡ªa journey where I aim to become the greatest adventurer. To achieve this, I need power. Not just any power, but unparalleled power that could obliterate any obstacles in my path. The kind of power that could even rival the gods....Ugh, I can¡¯t believe I just said that. Whatever¡ªmy point is this: the hare only lost because it was complacent. It was so arrogant and certain of its victory that it ended up sleeping, turning a supposed easy win into a distant, unattainable dream. The hare lacked ambition. It wasn¡¯t willing to endure agonizing pain to win. It wasn¡¯t prepared to sacrifice everything for its dreams. But I am. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡± You sure? ¡°Hurry up with it before I pussy out.¡± Alright then. First, go into that state you were in previously, and I¡¯ll open up a current. It was much easier to ¡°disconnect from the world¡± this time around. I was kind of surprised by it, but I chalked it up to my soul magic. It¡¯s open. I then felt a sensation akin to a gust of wind emanating from the area near my heart. Along with it came the worst pain imaginable. It felt as though there was a gaping hole in my chest, with my literal life seeping away. It was like experiencing a heart attack and a seizure simultaneously. My mind staggered, and my focus began to dim, but I somehow managed to perceive a small trail of mana. As the sharp burst of pain started to subside, I quickly followed the trail. I began to discern the outline of a circular shape, but just as I was approaching, a chilling voice echoed from behind me. ¡°You left them.¡± The voice contained spite and disdain. It was raspy like sandpaper being scraped against wood. "Your parents, your friends, your very existence. You forsook it all. You sacrificed everything." It felt like with each word, it was spitting out poison right at me. The crazy thing was, despite being a singular voice, it felt like there was an echo to its words, as if multiple spirits were berating me. ¡°???, realize who you are.¡± How did it know my past name-No, I couldn¡¯t worry about that. I kept going forward, ignoring whatever the spirit said. "Pursuing this unattainable dream will not bestow upon you what you seek. It will only reveal a truth, a truth that will bring you unimaginable pain. A truth that will make you regret ever endeavoring this." Almost there. I saw my soul now. It was the same shape as my mom¡¯s, but it was much darker. Honestly, it was pure darkness. The only reason why I knew it was there was because of the outline, and the tiny trail of mana leading to it. "Halt before you delve too deeply. Humanity is not fated to achieve the impossible, nor are they meant to grasp their dreams. Humans exist merely to perform in a divine spectacle for the gods'' amusement. If you do not wish to uncover the unfathomable horrors of humanity''s true purpose, then relinquish your quest. Return to the sanctuary of slumber, before you witness more than you can bear." I finally reached the soul, and I dove right into it. There was no way I was going to listen to some random old spirit, especially one that tried to tell me what to do. You already lived your own life. Let me live mine, fucking bitch. Instantly, my eyes opened and I was back in reality. I was back in the wooden crib, looking back up at that shabby wooden ceiling. I heard the chirping again, and small rays of sunshine were beginning to leave the window. Good job, Beric. ¡°You weren¡¯t kidding about that pain. I was considering calling it quits.¡± Well, you¡¯re going to have to bear similar pain when you begin meditating. Are you able to find your soul on your own now? I decided to call it ¡°soul sense¡±, since it was¡­.sensing souls. I know it doesn¡¯t sound great, but simplicity is underrated. I also liked it since it sounded similar to ¡°sixth sense¡±, since sixth senses are usually correlated to sensing spiritual things, like souls. Can you shut up and continue already? ¡­.I activated soul sense, and I began searching for my soul. It was significantly easier now, as its complete blackness, in a sense, made it distinctly stand out. Great, you found it. Now, you know what impurities look like, right? It was easy to tell them apart from the functioning parts of my soul. I zeroed in on the stationary impurities. ¡°What now?¡± This is the challenging part. Meditating is a process where you focus deep within yourself, and manually use your innate mana¡¯s positive effects on the impurities. You must also exercise caution in selecting which impurities to purify. Certain areas of the soul have numerous functional components, while others are in desperate need of enhancement. Think of it as balancing out your soul, and you have to decide which part needs an upgrade first. This process is already lengthy and arduous, not to mention the added difficulty of being an infant. However, given that you know what to look for and have an idea of what a fully functional soul should resemble, it should be possible for you. But, it will take time and energy. Luckily, we have plenty of the first one. The second one will depend on you. Are you ready? ¡°You¡¯re going to block me from the spirits?¡± I¡¯ll do my best. Well, that¡¯s comforting. ¡°I¡¯ll start now.¡± Good luck. Mastering Meditation I activated soul sense, immediately locating my soul. I hadn''t really gotten a good look at it the first time, so seeing it fully now was intimidating. It was like a jet-black amalgamation of tiny beings forming a larger entity, riddled with moving and stationary thorns everywhere. I take it that you found the soul? ¡°Yep.¡± *sigh of relief* Good, good. Now, uh, do you see the¡­formation of the soul? The patterns of the little guys? I saw what Sys was talking about. When I saw my mother''s soul, the small particles were revolving around the central core, like how the moon revolves around Earth. But they weren¡¯t all moving in the same direction. Some were going around, some top to bottom, and others diagonally. Initially, I thought these were impurities because they weren''t moving uniformly. However, when I saw the stationary particles and those obstructing the smoothly flowing ones, I realized I was wrong. The different directions were essential for the soul''s proper functioning. To understand this, look at small particles back at earth. Let¡¯s say, the electron. The electron has quantum spin, which in simple terms, is the act of ¡°spinning in multiple directions at the quantum level.¡± It¡¯s a crucial part of electrons and subatomic particles, since without it, the physical and chemical properties of matter would collapse. In a sense, quantum spin is what holds matter together. (not at the same level as gravity and such, but you get my point.) Going back to souls, why do they need particles moving in different directions? Well, a soul is not physical. That¡¯s obvious, right? But, that means a soul is ever-changing. This means it is always in motion and constantly releasing energy due to its non-solid form.. To contain it, and to prevent any substantial amounts of leakage, it seems that the god of this world created humans¡¯ souls as a group, rather than a single being. They made it such that the soul would be in perpetual motion, fueling the human body. But, how? How does that work? Well, let¡¯s say that there were no smaller particles orbiting the core. Without any particles to create a barrier and to lead the energy back into the soul, hence the perpetual motion, it would just leak out. This is where the particles come into play. They provide the barrier, and a direction for the energy to return. But, if all the smaller particles went in the same direction, that would indirectly create a single use for the soul. See, the soul is always moving. The particles don¡¯t stop it, but rather redirect the ever flowing energy that comes from it. If it helps, imagine it as a car tire that always moves forward. If the particles only go in one direction, in this case forward, the soul would only be used for the body itself, ¡°physical¡±.(organs, the body itself, you get it.) This is why there are 2 other ¡°flows¡± that exist. The top to bottom one is for the brain, ¡°mental.¡± (along with the personality, thought processes, etc.) The third is for mana itself, ¡°magical¡±. Now, all 3 of these have a ¡°reverse order¡± that balances them out. An example would be ¡°physical¡±, with how it goes around clockwise, and its ¡°reverse order¡± going counterclockwise. Since the clockwise one deals with the enhancements of the body and its physical properties, the counterclockwise one would be in charge of when certain body parts need to rest. (the heart, lungs, liver, etc.) They go hand in hand with mental, since the counterclockwise would send up a signal for the brain to realize when it needs to rest. It was set up all like this to ensure the steady and proper rate of usage for the soul¡¯s natural discharge of energy. ¡­¡­..A ¡°yeah¡± would¡¯ve been fine. I noticed that my "soul flows" were not as large or efficient as my mother''s. My physical flow was slow and small, the same for the other two. Impurities blocked their paths, and many were deeply rooted in my soul. The weakest flow was my mana flow, with only the left diagonal one functioning. How did you even know all of that? The soul and its flows? ¡°You told me right before the chapter started.¡± Oh yeah¡­¡­¡­wait, what do you mean ¡°chapter¡±? I decided to focus on my mana flow. It needed to be balanced out the most, and mana would be most helpful with improving my meditation mastery. ¡°How do I begin meditating?¡± You need to open small doorways leading to the outside. This will welcome pure mana emanating from the outside world. It may come from people passing by, the death of a small wild animal nearby, or even the photosynthesis of a close by flower. Every living being contains a soul and emits small amounts of pure mana from normal acts. After all, every act¡ªphysical, mental, and especially magical¡ªrequires the soul¡¯s energy. ¡°I¡¯m assuming this is why you warned me about evil spirits?¡± Exactly. These small doorways will also be visible to wandering spirits. Not all are harmful and some might even ignore you, but generally speaking, an open soul is the perfect target for a restless evil spirit waiting for a second chance. It will be my responsibility to hide you from them, but most likely, they will see through it. I''ll warn you of their approach, so you must be ready to quit at a moment¡¯s notice. An evil spirit will only need a few seconds to take over an infant¡¯s soul. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s uh, not terrifying at all.¡± I would be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t at least worried. The whole idea of some malevolent ghost creeping up on me wasn¡¯t fun to imagine, even more since I had already gone through that experience. But, I had to do it. Rather, I wanted to do it, and that was enough for me. ¡°So, how do I open these doorways?¡± All you need to do is first sense the outside mana. When you do catch the trails, you need to visualize a ¡°bridge¡± or something similar to connect the mana to your soul. It can be anything, from a wire, a USB cable, or even just a normal bridge. As long as it is capable of connecting the two, it should work. I followed System¡¯s advice- you know what. I¡¯ll just call System Sys for convenience¡¯s sake. I followed Sys¡¯ advice and started trying to sense any mana trails. Surprisingly, I immediately found a couple of them. I figured my soul magic must have boosted my capability at sensing mana. I then tried to imagine a bridge connecting the two, and yet again surprising me, it actually worked. The mana trails went over the bridge and headed right to my soul. It was now the hard part. I carefully directed the mana trails towards the soul flow, using the very little mana I myself had and my pure mental strength. It was a very strenuous process, trying to perfectly control both while still trying to ignore the outside world. Eventually, the mana started combining with the impurities, leading to the impurities becoming clearer. However, this hurt badly. With each impurity becoming more pure, it felt like my chest was being squeezed. My heart went through periodical compressions, and my breathing started to become rugged. It seemed that my body had to get used to the new pure particles. Despite the pain, I thought things were going smoothly. The mana had already purified one, and I was starting to get used to meditating. But, of course, I wasn¡¯t that lucky. There¡¯s a spirit coming your way. Quit now. I was going to comply, but I had seen that there was one impurity that was so close to being pure. I knew that this was a slow process, and that any kind of progress was important, so I figured that I could at least wait until this was done. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. What are you doing? Abort. ¡°In a bit.¡± It was this close. I had to wait. Beric, abort now. ¡°Just a few seconds.¡± It was right there. BERIC! I didn¡¯t answer as I focused on the impurity. Despite my attention being completely on it, and the fact that I was oblivious to the outside world due to my soul sense, I still felt a chilling sensation. I then heard a terrifying cackle belonging to only what I could have assumed to be a spirit. FORCE SHUT DOWN. My eyes burst open as I jolted in place. My breathing became strained as an intense burning sensation burst through my chest. My infant body couldn''t handle it, and I cried out in pain. My mom rushed in, trying to comfort me, but it didn''t work. My chest hurt too much for words to console me. It felt like a wildfire brewing inside me. 20 minutes had passed before the inflammation had begun to ease up. It still hurt like a bitch, but it was bearable now. My mom kept on singing lullabies to me, which I now could understand. They were of the first king, King Edrius, and his triumph in pushing back the Demon King and his army back to their islands. 10 more minutes had passed, and I had finally stopped crying. My mom then put me back in the crib, kissed my forehead, muttered a silent prayer for me, and left the room. It was just me and Sys again. What the fuck is wrong with you? I told you to listen to me. I told you to stop meditating as soon as I tell you. You....You could have died back there. Even worse, a fucking random spirit could have overtaken your soul and damned you to be a spirit for the rest of eternity too. You might not know this, but eternity is a damn long time. Matter of fact, forget the spirit. Your entire journey would have ended right there, and you would become Death for all of eternity. You know why? Because no one else is as dumb as you. No one else would ignore me when a literal ghost is about to overtake their soul. No one else is dumb enough to take Death¡¯s place. ¡°......¡± I know you hear me. ¡°.......¡± SAY SOMETHING! Sys was right. I should have ignored the impurity. I should have just stopped meditating. I was an idiot for being blinded by my goal¡­¡­..but that¡¯s not why I didn¡¯t answer. There was something else that caught my attention. Right before Sys forced the shutdown, I experienced the "life flashing before your eyes" moment. I saw the chocolate cake for my 5th birthday. I saw the old friends I used to have before we eventually drifted apart. I saw all the schools I went to as I grew up. I saw my parents'' proud faces as I showed them my test grades. I saw my grandpa¡¯s impressed face when I told him of my dream. I saw¡­..my death to that truck. You might think that¡¯s what caused me to not answer. Nope. It was the realization afterwards. I actually¡­.missed my old life. I was sad that I would never go back to it. But, this didn¡¯t sit well with me. I thought I hated that life. After all, I did all of this. I made that whole deal with Death for another life in a different world, not a second chance at my old life. So, then why? Why was I so sad? I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know why I felt these feelings towards the life I had harbored so much hate for. But, I did realize something else. It¡¯s only in death when one can value their life, and it¡¯s only in life when one fears death. Just think about it. People generally only become fearful for their life when they¡¯re in life threatening situations. It¡¯s in these scenarios where people¡¯s ¡°true selfish sides¡± come out, and they¡¯ll do anything to save their own skin. Another example would be how people tend to worry about their life¡¯s meaning and remaining regrets when they know their time is close. That¡¯s why bucket lists are a thing. Then, we look at life itself. So many people worry incessantly about death that they even forget to live. They work tirelessly for ample money to pay for better housing and health just to delay the inevitable. They follow religions for the possibility of there being an afterlife. They make names for themselves to make a mark on the world to prove they existed, knowing that eventually they will die. Some people live a life so mundane that they don¡¯t even feel alive. They repeat the same thing every day over and over, restricted by higher beings who control what they do and say. They know they can¡¯t escape, but they still cling on to a small hope that things will change, so they continue to obey, waiting for that day. They wake up, work, sleep, rinse and repeat. They keep doing this, until eventually, their hope does come true, but in the form of something else, Death. Maybe that¡¯s why people only value their life when they¡¯re about to die. They¡¯re too wrapped up in ¡°living before Death comes¡± that they don¡¯t truly feel alive. Their schedule is so bleak and overdone that they become numb. It¡¯s only when their life becomes endangered that they realize how much of their life they wasted. It¡¯s like¡­.you only really feel ¡°alive¡± when Death is near. I would know, since that¡¯s what happened to me. ¡°Sys, I¡¯m sorry. I really thought that that last impurity could be purified before time was up. I was¡­.greedy and dumb for not listening.¡± ¡­¡­.Sys? ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a¡­.nickname I came up with for you.¡± ¡­¡­Beric, you know that¡­if you die¡­I die? ¡°I know¡­..and I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡­¡­.It¡¯s funny. I never really heard of people who apologize to their own systems. ¡°First time for everything?¡± I guess. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes. The sunlight began to go away, and the pale moonlight began to shine through the window. I heard footsteps coming to my door, presumably my parents. I was also starting to get tired, so I figured I¡¯d get some shut-eye. Beric. ¡°Yeah?¡± I¡¯m not a perfect system. I keep forgetting about things, which leads to you getting angry at me. I¡¯m also quite talkative, which I¡¯m sure a lot of people would find annoying. I also¡­.don¡¯t always obey, which is like¡­.what a system should always do. ¡­¡­ You¡¯re not perfect either. You have some¡­¡­ interesting thoughts on life. You¡¯re also not exactly the obedient type, and you¡­.are really, really ambitious. ¡­¡­. But, I think that¡¯s why we¡¯re a perfect match. We know what¡¯s wrong with each other, and we can help each other grow since we¡­both have the same type of problems. So, that¡¯s why I think¡­it¡¯s best if we learn to forgive and forget. I believe that is how we¡¯ll grow best. ¡°......That sounds good.¡± Yeah? ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s shake on it.¡± ¡­¡­I don¡¯t¡­have hands. ¡°Oh yeah. I guess I¡¯m also forgetful.¡± ¡­¡­.I guess you are. Silence ensued as we recollected on what had just happened. The dark room mirrored the grim near-death experience I had just gone through, with the dim moonlight mirroring the close save Sys had done for me. My parents were in bed now, their snores giving it away. It felt....peaceful, but I knew it couldn''t stay like this. I needed to continue. ¡°Okay, so do you have anything you should mention? Like, anything you forgot that would help me out? Uhh¡­.I don¡¯t thi-Oh shit. ¡°What is it?¡± I can assign quests. ¡°....Uh huh?¡± I could¡¯ve assigned a quest for you to find your soul. If you did, you would have gotten experience points and leveled up, which in turn would have increased your stats, like mana. ¡°.......You¡¯ve got to be-.¡± Soul Absorption It¡¯s been five months since my first meditation. There wasn¡¯t much I could do as a baby besides meditate, so I did exactly that. Every moment in my crib, I meditated and attempted to purify my soul. Sys finally started assigning quests, which helped speed up the process. However, it could only assign a few, as it wasn¡¯t within its ability to make me ¡°too overpowered¡± for my age group. Sys couldn¡¯t directly assign quests that would lead to me becoming too strong. Instead, it assigned me slow quests like ¡°Reach the Stable soul rank¡± and ¡°Meditate every day for the next 100 days.¡± Thanks to these quests, I managed to level up to level 3. It might not seem like a lot, but from that level up, my stats now look like this: It seems that whatever soul flow I focus on purifying and enhancing, the higher the multiplier for that specific stat when I level up. I am a bit confused about why stamina and endurance are higher than the others, but it might be because of how I used those stats while meditating. Stamina from how consistently I meditate, and endurance from how I bear the effects while meditating. If this is the case, then the act of meditating itself should also boost my mana multiplier, along with other basic usages of mana. You should probably explain more about the soul ranks and colors. Good point. There are seven main "colors" of souls, with "Celestial White" being the highest, reserved only for gods. The seven main colors of the soul are as follows: Black, Purple, Blue, Green, Red, Orange, and Yellow. Each color has three sub-ranks based on the amount of impurities removed: Tarnished, Stable, and Ethereal. Ascending your soul rank to a higher color requires a dangerous process known as a ¡°Core Reset.¡± This involves going to a secluded area, manually disabling your soul flows, and then pouring mana into your exposed soul core. This process is dangerous because revealing your soul core makes you vulnerable to anyone passing by, which is why it''s recommended to find an isolated place. Additionally, your soul¡¯s energy leaks during this process, making your body severely weak and an easy target, regardless of your age. By this point, evil spirits aren¡¯t much of a threat as long as the user is strong enough to form a spiritual barrier. Core Resets are not needed when ascending from Black to Purple. This is because Core Resets depend on the purity of the mana used. Ethereal Black soul ranks are considered an "empty canvas," so it doesn¡¯t take much for them to ascend to Purple. Moreover, babies and children, whose souls are typically Black and who don''t use mana, do not need to disable their soul flows. Spirits can¡¯t even sense this transition happening. This is why people unconsciously ascend their souls to Purple as they grow up. The process is different for blessed children, as they have blessings and people to protect and guide them. Core Resets don¡¯t actually reset the soul or its flows. Instead, they reset the soul¡¯s limits. The stats remain the same, along with the flows, but the "form" of the soul expands. This expansion allows the soul flows to become faster and stronger but also brings more impurities. The soul¡¯s color stays the same initially, but after purifying the new impurities brought by the Core Reset, the soul changes color to reflect its new capabilities. Moving on, things have changed. Due to my higher strength stat, I am now finally capable of crawling. Both a dream and nightmare come true for your parents. It was around the afternoon when I decided to take a look around. I cried for my mom, and she quickly responded by rushing into my room. She at first thought that I was hungry, so she tried breast-feeding me. Look. I know the whole trope of isekai protagonists being embarrassed at the thought of sucking their mom¡¯s boobs. But for me, it¡¯s different. Breast milk just tastes horrible. It¡¯s like drinking sour tap water. I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s ¡°demeaning¡± of me to suck tits. It¡¯s also important for me to¡­ you know, stay alive. But, holy shit. The god of this world really couldn¡¯t have at least made it taste somewhat decent? Yet, for this plan of mine to work, I need her milk. So, I proceeded to ¡°drink¡± a bit. At first, I drank a little bit, then I purposely coughed to get some on myself. Afterwards, I kept drinking for around a minute, which is when I decided it would be enough. With my mouth full, I let go, and made a gulping noise while still holding the milk. Mom seemed to buy it, so I then pointed downwards, to signify that I was bored and wanted to crawl around. She understood it and carried me out into the main room. I saw my siblings Arthur and Elaine as they played tag around the house. Mom put me down near Arthur and Elaine and told them to keep a close eye on me. They voiced their compliance, but I was sure they would continue on with their game. As soon as Mom went back into the kitchen, I darted off to explore. Throughout these 5 months, Sys and I have discussed various ways of more efficiently raising my soul rank. The best option was undoubtedly ¡°soup absorption¡±. However, there was a problem. How could I even get the chance to do it? From what Sys had told me before, it''s not possible to absorb the soul of a healthy living being. If they were on the brink of death, or at least in a very weakened state, then I would be able to absorb their soul. Since I was still just a baby, it didn''t really seem viable. The other path was killing a being and absorbing their soul before it was recalled into the afterlife. Again, it didn''t really seem viable, but I had an idea. Every living being has a soul, no matter how small it is. For example, insects. In a house like this, made strictly of wood in a mainly forested village, I¡¯m sure there has to be some that could make their way into my home. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. I crawled looking out for any small cracks in the walls, since they were the most likely place for insects to squirm their way in. A couple of minutes passed by, before I finally found one. You would''ve found it faster if you weren''t going a millimeter per hour. ¡°Shut up.¡± I got closer as I spat out the breast milk right in front of the crack. Now, I just had to wait. Since this is probably gonna take a while, I''ll play some music. *now playing elevator music* ¡°¡­.. You can''t play like¡­. an actual song?¡± What do you want? ¡°I don''t know like¡ªrap?¡± Gotcha. Here''s some Drake. *Kendrick just opened his mouth, now I''m about to put my* ¡°Sys, I think you downloaded the wrong version.¡± Did I? Thankfully, before I had to hear System play some more music, I caught the glimpse of an antenna poking through the small crack. A few seconds went by, and the head of an ant popped out. I waited for it as it made its way to the small milk puddle. It slowly crept up to the puddle, but it stopped as it cautiously drank at the edge. I had figured this would probably happen, which is why I had crawled to the side of the crack, so the ant would focus on the milk. The act of coughing milk on myself from before was to mask my scent, so the ant wouldn¡¯t notice me. I also stayed completely still, so I wouldn¡¯t give off any other scents. As the ant drank, I then slowly came up from behind it, and I smashed it with my hand. I removed my hand to see the ant¡¯s lifeless flattened body. Rest in peace little buddy. ¡°How do I absorb its soul?¡± Wow, really? You¡¯re not even going to give it a proper send-off to the afterlife? ¡°It¡¯s an ant. It¡¯ll probably¡­go to ant heaven¡­..or be reincarnated as another ant.¡± So? Does the afterlife and reincarnation disqualify the acknowledgement of its life? ¡°Again, it¡¯s just an ant. Do you know how many ants there are in this world, let alone how this ant is exactly like any other ordinary ant? It¡¯s not like the world¡¯s gonna be affected by this singular ant¡¯s death.¡± What, you think¡­you think this ant¡¯s death is meaningless just because it¡¯s similar to the other ants?¡± ¡°Yeah, I actually do. Do you remember every single ant in the world that¡¯s died? No, you don¡¯t, because there¡¯s no need to. Maybe if there was some sort of superhero ant that saved a kingdom, you would remember it. Maybe if there was an ant that somehow solved world peace, you would remember it. It¡¯s because you only remember the ants that actually make them themselves unique and discernible from the ordinary masses. You don¡¯t remember the ordinary masses because they have nothing to be worth remembering about. Their lives don¡¯t mean as much as you think it does¡­.like this ant right here.¡± ¡­¡­I don¡¯t like how you think. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it. Now, could you tell me how to do this before I shit myself?¡± Go into Soul Sense. When you see its soul, use your own mana to attract it towards your soul. When it gets close enough, all you have to do is get it near your soul¡¯s core. Since it¡¯s only an ant¡¯s soul, your core should be strong enough to be able to absorb it. ¡°It doesn¡¯t have any impurities?¡± A soul only has impurities while it¡¯s in the body of a living being. Impurities stem from the limitations of a mortal body, such as weaker soul flows. I went into Soul Sense and looked for the soul. Finding it, I was interested in how small the size of it was. Was it because it was just an ant? Was it because it didn¡¯t have strong and proper soul flows? Whatever the case, it was perfect for me. I then started dispersing small amounts of mana from my soul, which caused the ant¡¯s soul to slowly float towards my soul. I kept at it, until it eventually got close enough. As soon as it neared my core, I felt a surge of mana entering my soul flows. It was like a sugar rush, enhancing all of my 5 senses instantly. Other impurities within my soul also became purified, and I could feel that my soul flows became even stronger. The ant¡¯s soul was absorbed by my soul completely, and I heard a ding sound, a sound accompanied by a level up message. Congratulations. You reached level 6. ¡°Check status.¡± I was a bit surprised by how many levels I had gone up by, but it was probably since Sys had assigned the quest ¡°Absorb your first soul.¡± With that being said, from how nice it felt absorbing it, I couldn¡¯t shake off a shaky feeling. ¡°Sys, isn¡¯t this like¡­..bad? I mean, I just killed this ant and I absorbed its soul. Doesn¡¯t that mess up the whole life cycle and with Death¡¯s affairs?¡± Only the core of a soul is needed to pass on to the afterlife. What you absorbed was just the shell and outside of the soul, hence the pure mana you had absorbed. If that was the case, then this might actually mess up my plan. ¡°Is it not possible for me to summon absorbed souls then? A form of necromancy, sort of.¡± Like I said, you absorbed the shell of the soul. When you become strong enough, you are capable of recreating the absorbed souls in their physical forms with your soul magic. They won¡¯t be in actual physical bodies, but rather spectral bodies. ¡°When can I do it?¡± If I had to say, wait until your first Core Reset. We can figure it out then. Before I could ask more, I heard a familiar male voice say behind me, ¡°Beric Bome.¡± I felt a tingling sensation crawl up my neck as I heard it. I slowly turned around to see my father staring hard at me. I saw his eyes look at the milk puddle, the dead ant, and back at me. Rest in peace little buddy. Hide and Seek My father Lucian carried me back to my siblings, while keeping a stern eye on me. He stands tall, his jet-black hair, tousled and thick, falling right above his piercing deep chestnut eyes. He has the rugged look and chiseled face of a seasoned lumberjack, with a rich tan skin, a testament to countless hours spent under the sun, toiling away at chopping down trees. He¡¯s strong, with his broad shoulders, a strong chest, and powerful arms trained from striking down an innumerable amount of trees. At first, he seemed intimidating to me with his stone-cold glare and perpetual frown. However, I learned that he was actually just bad at showing his emotions and that he was very gentle. His frightening aura and silence were simply the result of his nervousness and his inability to move or talk comfortably. He put me down as he flicked both Arthur and Elaine¡¯s foreheads, while softly rebuking them. ¡°Didn¡¯t your mother tell you to watch Beric closely?¡± ¡°But we did!¡± Arthur exclaimed while rubbing his forehead. ¡°He always crawls away the one moment we don¡¯t watch him.¡± Elaine pouted. Dad squatted down to talk to them face-to-face. ¡°Let that be a lesson. A mere second-long mistake can lead to a disastrous outcome. What if Beric harmed himself, because no one was there to watch over him?¡± ¡°....Sorry.¡± Arthur mumbled while keeping his head low. ¡°I¡¯m sorry too.¡± Elaine added with a shy look. ¡°It¡¯s alright, you two. Beric is very mischievous for his age. For example, he¡¯s probably crawling away while we¡¯re not watching him.¡± Dad turned around to see if his guess was right. He was right. You seriously couldn¡¯t have waited until he was gone? Dad got back up and went over to carry me back to my siblings. He lightly flicked my forehead while saying, ¡°Beric is certainly the adventurous type.¡± He looked over at Arthur and Elaine. ¡°Is it that difficult to watch over him?¡± ¡°Not really. It¡¯s just boring. I wanna play tag¡­and freeze tag¡­¡­and shadow tag.¡± Arthur listed while racking his brains for more. ¡°We play other games too.¡± Elaine said with an eyebrow raised at Arthur. ¡°If that¡¯s the case, then why don¡¯t you include Beric in your games? Most likely, he¡¯s bored of staying in his crib, and he wants to move around. You can also keep a close eye on him while playing.¡± Dad offered. No, I¡¯m actually¡­.. really fine with not being included in their games. ¡°What would we even play? He can''t run so tag¡¯s not possible.¡± Arthur stated. Dad pondered for a bit, before coming up with, ¡°How does hide and seek sound?¡± Bad. Both Arthur and Elaine had a perplexed look, before going away and huddling together. It seemed that they had a very serious discussion on whether to play hide and seek or not. Dad and I awkwardly waited for them to finish, sensing a tense atmosphere emanating from the two. What could a ten year old and an eight year old possibly be discussing so intensely? The lore of Skibidi Toilet. ¡­¡­¡­. ¡­.. I''ll stop talking. Eventually, the two finished their discussion, and returned to Dad and I with bright smiles. ¡°Hide and seek is perfect.¡± Arthur declared proudly. ¡°Beric can either help the seeker or hide with the hider.¡± Elaine added. Dad let out a barely noticeable smile while putting me down next to them. ¡°I''ll be helping your mother with setting up dinner.¡± Dad went to the kitchen, and Arthur sat down in a thinking position. ¡°Who''s going to be the seeker?¡± Elaine sat with him, and the two began to think furiously over what to do. While they were deep in thought, I decided to take this opportunity to find any scavenging insects to absorb. I crawled in their blind spots, keeping an eye on them. I then turned around and slowly crept away, as quietly as my little arms and legs could take me. This time, things were different. ¡°Where are you going, Beric?¡± I turned around to see Elaine, standing up, looking right at me. Her raven black hair cascaded down her back, with her sharp molten brown eyes staring right at me. Her eyes were narrowed, paired with her light tan arms crossed, visibly showing her annoyance. I tried playing dumb and donned a typical ¡°baby face¡±, but Elaine promptly picked me up and carried me back to the main room. Arthur didn¡¯t even realize I was gone, and he was still trying to think of who to be seeker. His unruly chestnut brown hair gleamed with the evening sun, which let his bright green energetic eyes shine. His light tan skin took on a small red hue, due to running around earlier. ¡°Why are you always trying to get away?¡± Elaine complained as she put me down. ¡°Do you not like being with us?¡± My main answer would be ¡°to get stronger¡±.......but Elaine wasn¡¯t too far off from that second question. Truthfully, I didn¡¯t really feel at ease being around my new family. There was of course, the question of, did I overtake this body? If I never made that deal with Death, would Beric still be born? And if he still were to be born, what happened to the original Beric? Did I take over his body, and in turn, caused his soul to be lost? Another thing that caused my unease was the fact that I was even in this body. A seventeen year old in the body of an infant. That alone is worthy of raising some eyebrows, discounting what would happen if my family were to find out. Would they feel surprised?.....Of course they would feel surprised. What am I thinking? A better term would be ¡°betrayed¡±. The son they so lovingly raised, the baby brother they grew up with, was just the puppet of another being. Am I really their son if I retain memories of a previous life? Am I really Beric if I forcefully took over this body? Am I even¡­.. human anymore? Does not the life I already had and encounter with the afterlife prove I''m no longer capable of being a normal human again?..... Perhaps that''s why I''m so uncomfortable being around them. I know that I don''t belong in this family. I understand that I will have to eventually reveal the truth to them. Maybe my act of running away and attempts of not growing closer to them will lessen the pain when they uncover the truth. Blah blah blah. Just pick the seeker and get a move on. I''m getting bored of this. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡­¡­.You can''t even let me have a monologue? Hell no. I''m not here to hear about your emo and depressing thoughts on life or whatever. I already had enough of that earlier. What I''m actually here for is to see you grow and develop your soul magic, and to entertain myself by watching your future fights and achievements. A better example would be an average Joe reading a fantasy isekai manga, to self insert himself into the story, and to escape from the dreary truth that is his life. Kinda like what you''re doing right now. I hated to say it, but Sys was right. It was boring waiting for them to think of an idea, and I would probably get more opportunities to soul absorb other insects if I was the seeker, so I decided to take matters in my own hands. I crawled up to Elaine and pointed my pudgy finger at her. Elaine was confused as to why I had suddenly pointed my finger at her, but Arthur had a completely opposite reaction as his eyes lit up. ¡°Let''s let Beric decide!¡± Arthur announced. ¡°.... Beric?¡± Elaine asked incredulously. ¡°Yeah, Beric. It''s perfect. We both don''t want to be the seeker, so we can just leave it to him to decide for us.¡± ¡°That sounds good but¡­.. Beric¡¯s just a baby. Are you sure he can even choose one of us? It''s not like he can understand us.¡± ¡°Then why did he point his finger at you?¡± Arthur objected. ¡°He''s probably just angry that I caught him crawling away.¡± Elaine guessed. I kept my finger pointed at her. ¡°He''s still pointing at you.¡± Arthur mumbled. Elaine got up and walked over to me with an intrigued look. ¡°Beric, can you understand us?¡± It would probably be best for me if I didn''t reveal that I could, so I didn''t answer and kept my position. ¡°.... Looks like he can''t. If he did, he would probably do something else to show it.¡± Arthur reasoned. Elaine kept her eyes focused on me, scrutinizing for any possible sign that I did understand them. ¡°Technically, he still picked you.¡± Arthur quietly said. ¡°.....What?¡± Elaine said, turning around to face Arthur. ¡°I mean, he chose you to be the seeker.¡± He said, raising his hands in a surrendering pose. ¡°...... Fine. I''ll be the seeker.¡± Elaine grumbled. ¡°Sweet!¡± Arthur said as he started running to look for a spot. Elaine then carried me as she sat back down. She placed me next to her and covered her eyes while counting to 30. I hesitated on taking this chance and crawling away again, but the sense of a malevolent energy stunned me. Finding out that the source of it was Elaine¡¯s left eye glaring at me from the side made me wait patiently. The two of us started searching. I had to follow Elaine closely, but that was fine. I wasn¡¯t planning on absorbing souls with her yet. I would instead scout for any possible places for ants to be, places that I would go to when I would be seeking with Arthur. It took Elaine a while, but she finally found Arthur hiding behind a table. Elaine and I then switched over to be hiders, so I followed Elaine as she chose a spot. We hid near the kitchen, using a door as coverage. There wasn¡¯t much I could do, so I simply laid down and waited. All I really wanted to do was just find ants to absorb. When we had begun this, I figured that this would just be a boring ¡°side-mission¡± to complete before I could continue my journey. I didn¡¯t really play hide and seek growing up, let alone with any siblings. I was an only child, so I didn¡¯t have anyone to play with at home. I would just watch t.v. and eat by myself while waiting for the next day. I had thought at first that this would bring me that same level of boredom, that hide and seek was just an ordinary game used to pass time. Except, it was different. When Arthur started to rush around from being unable to find us, Elaine quietly giggled. I wasn¡¯t amused to that extent, but a small smirk did come out. When Arthur thought he had found us, and yelled out when he realized he didn''t, I let out a small snort. When Arthur finally found us and started jumping around in joy, I smiled. When it was my turn to seek with Arthur, I shared struggles with him trying to find Elaine. My main focus was on the ants, but I reasoned that I could at least help out with finding her. Despite our best efforts, we had to give up. Elaine wouldn¡¯t let that die down, and she shoved it in our faces. She made sure that we wouldn''t forget about it for a long time. I wasn¡¯t too affected by it, but when Sys had mentioned that I was a deadweight, I knew I had to lock in. If you manage to find her in under 5 minutes, I¡¯ll increase some of your stats. Deadass? *Assigned the quest ¡°Find Elaine"*. I went straight to work. The entire house was within the game¡¯s limits, so Elaine could have been anywhere. However, I had figured out a pattern. Elaine never went back to her old spots and Arthur¡¯s spots. She would always be in a new spot. With this in mind, I disregarded the main room along with the kitchen. I crawled my way to the bedrooms as fast as I could. Arthur was too busy searching for Elaine, and since he wasn¡¯t exactly the type to focus on multiple things at once, he forgot about watching me. It would have been smart, better even, to use this time instead to search for other insects. Would the quests¡¯ rewards be better than absorbing the souls of insects? I couldn¡¯t tell¡­..besides, I just didn¡¯t want to accept the fact that I was a deadweight, especially since Sys had said that. 4 minutes left. I had reached the bedrooms, but there was a problem. There were two, Arthur and Elaine¡¯s, and my parents¡¯. Both doors were closed. It would be impossible for me to open them on my own, so I had an idea. I cried out loud, hoping that Arthur would remember me and come running towards me. Both mom and dad weren¡¯t in the kitchen, so I had assumed they were probably outside. A couple of seconds had gone by, until I heard the fast footsteps of Arthur barreling towards me. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?!¡± Arthur gasped out. I pointed my finger to the bedroom doors. Arthur looked up at them. ¡°Do you want to nap?¡± I nodded my head. Arthur stooped down, picked me up, and opened the door to our parents¡¯ room. Before putting me in the crib, I nudged him to put me back down on the floor. Arthur was a bit annoyed, but he still did it. I then zoomed around, trying to find Elaine. It took Arthur a bit to realize that Elaine could be hiding in one of these two rooms, so he joined me. 2 minutes remaining. Shit. If only I could walk. However, I couldn¡¯t worry about unimportant things like that. I needed to focus on finding Elaine. Both Arthur and I searched for a good bit, before we had figured that Elaine wasn¡¯t here. Arthur then moved to his room, with me following close behind. 30 seconds. I checked under the beds. Nothing. I checked in the closet. Nothing. 10 seconds left. Looks like this is going to be your first failed quest. I cursed at myself for being too young, but I stopped. There was a pile of clothes on the ground, a pile that looked suspiciously big. Both Elaine and Arthur didn¡¯t have that many clothes, being that we were common people. I also thought that Elaine would think that Arthur wouldn¡¯t notice the difference in size of a seemingly normal pile of clothes. What if¡­.. It didn''t matter. I hurried over, almost tripping over my chubby legs. 5 I reached out my hand. 4 I grabbed a shirt. 3 I tried pulling on it. 2 My strength was weak, but it was enough. 1 I pulled off the shirt, revealing the laid figure of Elaine, smiling back at me. ¡°You found me!¡± Elaine squealed, with a beautiful heartwarming smile. Quest completed. I let out a sigh of relief as Arthur hobbled over. ¡°This is where you were? No wonder why I couldn¡¯t find you. You¡¯re always complaining about how I smell, so I would never think that you would hide under my used clothes.¡± Arthur muttered, but the trace of a slight smile betrayed his voice. ¡°Good job on finding me, Beric.¡± Elaine said as she pulled me in. She then gave me a big hug, as she squeezed my little body. ¡­¡­....Why am I smiling?........Did I actually¡­¡­find this fun? I thought back to those days when I was a child. I remembered my gray days as I sat in front of that blaring t.v. I thought back to elementary when no one would invite me to play with them. I thought back to when¡­¡­I asked my parents for a brother¡­¡­or even a sister. Is this what having siblings felt like? Because if so¡­¡­¡­.I would¡¯ve liked it. That being said, my smile quickly went away. Why? Well¡­¡­would Elaine still smile at me like that when she finds out who I am? Would she ever smile at me in the future, 20 years from now, knowing that the 20 year old brother she knew and loved, housed the soul of a 37 year old man? Would she even¡­..love me anymore?........If we ever played hide and seek again in the future as adults, would she still be happy being found by me? Elvish Queries It¡¯s now been 8 months since my arrival in this world. I¡¯ve been diligently meditating and soul absorbing ants and other small insects throughout these months, with my significantly higher level and stats portraying this. I¡¯ve definitely made good progress, but I could¡¯ve made more. I am proud of the fact that I¡¯m now level 12, but I do have some regrets. My infant body prevents me from venturing beyond my home to find new creatures to absorb. Ants, once a good source of experience and mana, are now less viable. I¡¯ve absorbed hundreds by now, and with my low soul rank and frail body, each level up brings only modest stat increases. However, this will soon change since now, I can finally walk. I wouldn¡¯t exactly call it walking. It¡¯s more like an advanced version of squatting. If you go too fast, you end up tumbling like a boulder. ¡°Then, I can accelerate and get to places faster.¡± That¡¯s not what I- Anyway, an update on my soul. My mana flows have finally stabilized, with both flows working smoothly and efficiently. Because of this, and of my¡­..admittedly poor walking state, I started working on my physical soul flows. They¡¯re in rough conditions, but there¡¯s a noticeable improvement in them. If I start working out alongside my meditations, my physical soul flow should strengthen. With this in mind, I have a couple of goals for today. My rapid development has also surprised my parents. Typically, babies start walking between 10 and 18 months, so my early steps at just 8 months have them both amazed and worried. They¡¯re unsure if I¡¯m simply ahead of my age group or if my soul has particularly strong physical flows. The idea that I might be a genius has crossed their minds, but they dismissed it as too early to tell. Now regarding the topic of ¡°a genius¡±, I have read quite a few isekai stories back in the day. What a surprise. ¡°Shut up.¡± Anyway, from what I¡¯ve read, the protagonists typically hide their true capabilities and talent, all for the sake of ¡°living a quiet life.¡± Which, may I say, is the worst excuse I have ever heard. If you were born in a fantasy world, filled with hot girls and dragons to conquer and tame, and your first thought is ¡°I want to live quietly in a secluded area¡±, then kill yourself and reincarnate back into your old world. Because honestly speaking, you¡¯re wasting that second life. Well, damn. That¡¯s pretty harsh. Do you not like the idea of a ¡°slow life¡±? ¡°Hell no. You have an entire magical world that you could only dream of, filled with literal magic, dragons, fairies, dwarves, and ELVES!¡± ¡­¡­Why the emphasis on elves? ¡°In my previous life, all I did was read fantasy books. They provided the only source of pure light in my otherwise ¡®normal¡¯ life. It was fun imagining the world itself. I loved envisioning myself as a swordsman protecting villagers or exploring uncharted lands. It got so bad to the point that I would try to recite spells in my room.¡± Are you acoustic? ¡°Bro, no. It¡¯s just that reading these epic stories about different and unique worlds sort of¡­..took my mind off things. I was captivated by the idea of unknown places, untouched by the memories of others, a clean slate. I wanted to see such places with my own eyes. Places that weren¡¯t tainted by history, that I didn¡¯t learn about in school, that I knew nothing about before setting foot in them. Places I could explore on my own." But, weren¡¯t these worlds in those stories already explored? Didn¡¯t they have descriptions made by the narrator? Did they not have pre-existing adventurers that already mapped out the world? Is it¡­..something else? "I don¡¯t know, man. I never really thought about it¡­but maybe it¡¯s because I hated hearing the same things over and over." Hearing the same thing? "Don¡¯t worry about it. It¡¯s just a pet peeve I have.¡± Anyway, my main goal is to become an adventurer. A strong one, specifically. If I want this to happen, then I¡¯ll need to receive the proper training and help to become one. For this, it¡¯s only logical to think that I¡¯ll need to enroll in the best school possible for me to learn everything I need. This means I¡¯ll need to prove that I¡¯m worthy, like showing everybody that I¡¯m a genius. Of course, I can¡¯t show my soul magic, but I have some ideas on how to substitute for it. Another reason for me to not hide my capabilities, would be to make connections. If I can attract strong people with my own abilities, then it¡¯s only beneficial to make them my allies. But first, I must focus on raising my soul rank. So, it¡¯s time to start the day. I got up from my crib and duck walked to the main room. It was close to noon, and I was sure that Arthur and Elaine were most likely already playing. My first goal of getting stronger was improving my physical soul flows. A good way for me to do this was by playing with my siblings. They usually played physical games like tag and tug of war, so I felt that this would be perfect for me. It¡¯s not like I could do push ups and such, since if my parents found me, they would probably be both confused and worried on why I even knew what a push up was. That being said, carrying heavy objects and masking the acts of working out with ¡°searching for my siblings in hide and seek¡± would work perfectly. (For example, to do squats and push ups, I just need to either lie down or squat and get back up, while pretending I¡¯m looking for them.) This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I did precisely this, playing tag and the like with my siblings. A few hours had passed by, before Arthur and Elaine had to go to the local school. Our village Lurindell had a small school for children aged six to twelve. They taught basic subjects like math, (addition and subtraction), the history of the world, and of course, the language ¡°Valtharin¡±. It was a humble place, meant only for basic knowledge to help the children better understand the world. It was around mid-afternoon when they had left. Dad was out chopping trees for his daily quota, while Mom was butchering a bird-like creature. It was unlikely for me to be able to try to hide away and continue my exercise, since Mom was keeping a hawk-like look on me. So, I decided to try out my second strategy. In the main room, at the back center was a firepit, with two chairs looking at it, and a table to the left. There were floor mats with an interesting pattern, with flowers and trees covered in vines. My main focus was on the chairs. With my current physical stats, it was nigh-impossible for me to even make one of them budge. However, this was exactly what I had wanted. As long as I kept attempting to push it along with pulling on it, it should serve as a good means of improving my physical state. It¡¯ll be slow progress, but it¡¯s progress nonetheless. It also wouldn¡¯t seem that strange to my parents, since it¡¯s seen as a normal thing for toddlers to mess with things, like rearranging things in a room. I did this for the entire afternoon, pushing and pulling on the chairs, while doing proper pushups and such when no one was looking. It eventually became night time, and it was time to sleep. Arthur and Elaine had already gotten home, and were exhausted from a long day at school. We all quickly ate our dinner, and they rushed off to bed, racing on the way. I waited for Dad to carry me off to bed, while Mom was busy cleaning the table. Dad then picked me up and started walking off to their room. Before Mom got out of my vision, I had a sudden realization. If she has brown hair, and Dad has black hair, while Arthur and Elaine have corresponding colors, then why is my hair silver?........No way, did Mom- No, dumbass. You just inherited that hair from your elven grandfather. ¡°¡­¡­My grandpa?¡± Yeah. Huh. I actually haven¡¯t really thought about my grandpa for a while now. I wonder if he¡¯d be disappointed in me. If he¡¯d be mad that I abandoned my past life for this. If he¡¯d berate me for leaving my family and friends behind¡­¡­..Man, fuck that. My parents would be completely fine without me. They really only saw me as a machine anyway. Not once did they ever let me do anything fun or anything that I actually wanted to do. It was always work, work, work. Not one single day of break around them¡­¡­..I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll just make another kid to use instead of me. As for my friends, they¡¯ll be good. Robert would go to a nice school and get a decent job at some software tech company. He also has that girl he was talking to, so he¡¯s probably going to be fine. For Sam, he¡¯ll be alright¡­¡­..heh, that¡¯s a lie. He¡¯s definitely cooked. But, that¡¯s not my problem anymore. I tried helping him out with his grades, but he never wanted to apply himself. All he wanted to do was play games and sleep. It isn¡¯t on me if he fails in life and becomes homeless. Whatever happens to him is on him. For all of my other ¡°friends¡±, fuck them too. They¡¯ll get all sad and weepy over me for a couple of days, then they¡¯ll go back to living out their boring and ordinary lives. They might remember me once every few years, treating me like I¡¯m some long forgotten memory. But, I can do the same. I don¡¯t have to remember them. I have a new life to worry about. ¡°If my grandpa in this life is an elf, does that mean I¡¯m part elf?¡± Amazing deduction, Shitlock Dolmes. How did you manage to figure that out? ¡°Can you just move on?¡± If you paid close attention, you would notice that your mother¡¯s hair is braided in a traditional elvish manner, along with those traditional elven floor mats. ¡°How could I possibly know about-¡± It¡¯s most accurate to say that you were lucky with inheriting more elven blood than your siblings. ¡°Really? Let¡¯s say, hypothetically, I were to¡­.marry an elf. Would that be considered incest?¡± What the fuck? ¡°Just a hypothetical question.¡± ¡­¡­..No, it wouldn¡¯t be. Elves share a common ancestor, the Grand Elven Sage, but through generations, they¡¯re not in any danger of disabilities from mating with fellow elves. You, being mostly human, have even less of a chance." "You know, it¡¯s nice learning this. Learning that my grandpa was an elf, that I¡¯m part elf. It¡¯s almost like a miracle that you told me now, rather than never mentioning it." ¡­..Your parents would have told you eventually. ¡°Nice dodging.¡± Shut up. ¡°That does give me a few more questions, though.¡± Like what? "For one, I thought elves generally didn¡¯t like other races, especially humans. How did my grandpa end up with a human, let alone marry one and start a family?" How the fuck would I know? Go ask your parents for that. ¡­.Could¡¯ve just said no. Any other questions? ¡°Are there other elves in the human kingdoms then?¡± There are some, but most are adventurers or teachers at magical institutions. There are also halflings in various military forces in all 3 kingdoms. For instance, there is the ¡°Greenfoot Scout¡± of the Verdant Vanguard, a patrol squad that watches over Therandor. However, almost all elvenkind live in the ¡°Elven Realm¡±. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± The Elven Realm? It¡¯s on the right side of your map. ¡°My map?¡± ¡­¡­.Did I also forgot to tell you about your map? ¡°You piece of-¡± Mapping Out The Future Say ¡°Open Map¡±, and a map of the entire world should open up. ¡°Open map.¡± Instantly, a familiar, bright light blue box materialized before me, displaying a two-dimensional geographical map. On the left were a series of seven islands, isolated from the mainland. Collectively known as "The Fiendish Isles," they share a common theme of blackened terrain, marked by numerous lava flows and active volcanoes. The ocean acts as a ¡°natural¡± barrier separating these islands from the mainland, which is further blocked in by a gargantuan man-made border. The mainland, positioned on the right side of the map, houses the three kingdoms: Myrkwind, Pisthara, and Gravenor. Gravenor, the largest of the three, is situated adjacent to the border and occupies the central region of the mainland. Its expansive farms benefit from the seemingly endless grassy plains, with long rivers and creeks threading through the land to sustain these said farms. A few hills are scoured throughout, but the majority of the land is covered in flat grass. To the north and slightly to the east of Gravenor lies Pisthara, a kingdom whose villages primarily line the coast and thrive by the ocean. While Gravenor excels in agriculture, Pisthara specializes in fishing and harbor management, with its towns and villages leveraging the ocean for both sustenance and commerce. Adjacent to Gravenor is Myrkwind, the kingdom where I reside. Myrkwind is characterized by its extensive, dense forests, which dominate the landscape with a lush green expanse. The terrain is marked by rivers, mountains, hills, and open plains, all of which are interspersed within the forested areas. The darker regions on the map indicate areas densely covered by trees, while the lighter patches represent the open plains. Due to the abundance of trees and the existence of huge forests, foraging and hunting are the main sources of food here. Farming is limited because of the thick underbrush, invasive weeds, and small critters that disrupt crops. Tree logs and other natural resources, along with the food foraged, are the main sources of income for Myrkwind. Below Myrkwind is ¡°The Desolate Dunes¡±, a barren wasteland covered in mainly sand and gravel. Dotting the region are deep craters and the scattered remnants of dried-up rivers, emphasizing its barren and inhospitable nature. ¡°Sys, what¡¯s the deal with The Desolate Dunes?¡± The Desolate Dunes was once the vibrant and prosperous country of Lunaria, renowned for its lush forests, serene ponds, and bustling communities that rivaled those of Gravenor. However, when the ¡°Abyssal War¡± began, Lunaria was the main location of a ferocious battle, ¡°The Demonic Siege¡±. The Demon King, driven by a desire for Lunaria''s rich resources and an opportunity to exploit its unarmed populace, launched a merciless assault. Demons overran the land, plundering and ravaging the communities with unprecedented brutality, leaving a legacy of destruction and death. The innocent civilians suffered horrific fates, their lives extinguished in the wake of the invasion. When reinforcements from neighboring kingdoms finally arrived, the Demon King, realizing he might not fully conquer Lunaria, resolved to ensure that the land would be left uninhabitable. He unleashed his devastating "Hell¡¯s Judgment" spell, turning Lunaria into the desolate wasteland it is today. The once-thriving country was reduced to a barren desert, scarred by the ravages of war and the catastrophic spell that sealed its fate. ¡°Okay, hold up. If the Demon King was capable of using a spell as powerful as that, how on earth did the demons get pushed back?¡± Hell¡¯s Judgment is an extraordinarily potent spell, demanding both considerable time and immense mana to cast. The Demon King, because of its drawbacks, reserved its use for monumental, single-instance assaults. This was precisely the case during the siege of Lunaria. But, the Demon King was not the only one capable of wielding such an overpowered spell, since the past hero King Edrius, alongside his formidable party, proved to be a significant counterforce. King Edrius, blessed by Luxaris, the god of light, possessed unparalleled mastery over light magic. This divine blessing enabled him to learn "Divine Execution," a devastatingly powerful slash capable of cleaving through entire mountains. Like Hell¡¯s Judgement, the usage of Divine Execution requires a substantial investment of time and energy. The two of them understood the other¡¯s powers and exercised caution in using theirs, making sure to not accidentally end up destroying the world. Think of it as the Cold War, with both sides having the power and knowledge of what would happen if they carelessly attack the other. With that being said, given that demons are particularly vulnerable to light magic, it was only natural that they were repelled by King Edrius and his allies. Despite the Demon King¡¯s destructive capabilities, the presence of light magic and its inherent power to counter demonic forces played a crucial role in pushing back the invaders. ¡°Hmph. I guess we¡¯re lucky that Edrius was a hero, and that he didn¡¯t go through some betrayal that caused him to go on the wrong path. It¡¯s a good thing that this isn¡¯t one of those stories.¡± Yeah, and instead, we get the story of an infant duck-walking and playing hide and seek. How entertaining. ¡­¡­..Below the mainland, separated by a stretch of sea, is another island, ¡°The Draconic Peaks¡±. This island is mostly enveloped by rugged mountainous terrain, with numerous peaks and ridges that resemble the jagged spine of a legendary dragon. The island is both cloaked in dense forests and dotted with serene lakes. The island also features a notable section of desert, covering roughly one-quarter of its total area. From the name alone, I¡¯m pretty sure that this is the home of the dragons. Not only dragons, but other formidable creatures also inhabit The Draconic Peaks, including wyverns and drakes, which rival dragons in their danger and strength. In the arid desert regions, rocs and giant sandworms thrive, adapting to the harsh conditions. Meanwhile, the surrounding treacherous ocean is home to krakens and leviathans, which flourish in its perilous depths. ¡°Then, do creatures like dragons not live on the mainland? If I were to ever wish to see one, would I have to travel to the island?¡± The majority of the dragons live in the Draconic Peaks, but there are a few remaining ones that live on the mainland. However, they are extremely rare, and they have only been seen a single number of times through all of history. Their whereabouts are shrouded in mystery, along with the origins of why they chose to stay here. ¡°Why did they move? To the island, that is.¡± The Draconic Peaks was not always the domain of the dragon-like creatures, nor did the island always exist as the ¡°The Draconic Peaks¡±. Originally, the island was merely a retreat for these beings, a sanctuary where they could mate and rest. Dragons and similar creatures primarily lived on the mainland, where they made their homes in caves, mountains, lakes and such, living life on their own terms. At times, they terrorized villages, while at other times, they would slumber for weeks undisturbed. However, as humans began to master summoning and taming magic, they became strong enough to capture and tame dragons and other formidable creatures. These beings were used as familiars, enhancing human strength and military power. But, humans were not alone in their efforts; demons, elves, and other magical races also sought to control these powerful entities, resulting in a world-wide fluctuation of power. The villages, kingdoms, countries, and all people in general began to notice a shift in the balance of the world. A tension started to brew around the world, as each race worried if the others would try to conquer the other with their newfound familiars. Eventually, the ice tipped as the Demon King led his army to conquer the other races and land. The usage of the dragons, wyverns, and other mythical beings affected the war so much to the point that the hero, King Edrius decided their powers were too great. After they pushed back the demons, King Edrius knew that no one should have the power of these creatures. With this in mind, along with the help of allies all across the world, he forced the beasts to relocate to a faraway island. He then formed a barrier around it, preventing anyone from entering it. It¡¯s the exact same type of barrier that King Edrius als created that surrounds the ¡°Fiendish Isles¡±. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°So he not only forced the dragons to relocate, but he also made 2 barriers, which are not only big enough to cover the entire islands, but that they''re strong enough to last how many years?¡± It''s been 84 years since the Abyssal War. ¡°84- Holy shit. How strong was he?¡± King Edrius was arguably the most powerful human to have ever existed in this world. He possessed complete mastery over all forms of magic and was renowned for his unparalleled swordsmanship and formidable physical prowess. Though the exact methods he used to force the creatures to relocate are not fully known, it is widely theorized that his cunning nature played an important role. It is believed that he had most likely devised a plan to do this, though as mentioned earlier, the specifics are not known. ¡°If this King Edrius guy not only was a master of magic, an unparalleled swordsman, and a genius no less, why was he only capable of pushing back the Demon King? Why didn¡¯t he just kill him?¡± King Edrius didn¡¯t merely push him back, but rather he had meticulously cornered him and sealed him and his army within the Fiendish Isles. The Demon King was as formidable as King Edrius, if not, more. It was only because of the Demon King¡¯s recklessness and undying hunger for conquest that he rushed his plans and strategies, which King Edrius seized perfectly. He had strategically stalled the war, whittling down the Demon King¡¯s forces as much as he could, waiting for the perfect chance to seal the demons away. When that moment arrived, he acted decisively, channeling all his remaining mana into casting ¡°Divine Diminution.¡± Divine Diminution is the highest form of sealing magic, specifically for light magic, which is why it was perfect for sealing away the demons. It worked just as planned, and that seal is now the reason why the world is still safe, even after hundreds of years. ¡°You already know what I¡¯m going to ask, right?¡± It is true that due to a long period of time, the seal has weakened. However, it is still unlikely that the Demon King will be able to resuscitate and come back. Even before the seal, the Demon King was already severely weakened due to his final battle with King Edrius and his allies. In short, don¡¯t needlessly worry about the Demon King returning. At most, you might encounter a few, straggling demonfolk wandering around. ¡°Music to my ears. I just hope that I won¡¯t have to get involved with any ¡®hero¡¯ affairs.¡± I then looked at the two remaining regions within the map. Resting in the rightmost section of the mainland, is The "Ancient Frost Heights". It¡¯s an icy mountainous region bordering the ocean, where towering glacial peaks seem to touch the sky, and smaller snow-covered mountains line the landscape. The zone is locked in a perpetual winter, with no trace of green grass or fertile soil anywhere. Near the center, a massive crater resides, with the remnants of a volcano nearby, containing faint traces of magma. Most bodies of water are frozen solid, with only a handful left untouched by the relentless cold. There are no major kingdoms here, but a few small villages manage to survive in this harsh environment. The largest of these is Briarhold, a decently-sized village on the outskirts of the frozen volcano, likely drawing warmth from the lingering magma remnants. The last region of this world is ¡°The Elven Realm,¡± which rests below the Ancient Frost Heights and to the right of the Desolate Dunes. Its landscape resembles that of Myrkwind, characterized by dense, jungle-like forestry and undulating hills scattered throughout. Towering trees form lush canopies that obscure the bustling life within the forest. The elves take advantage of their height by constructing their kingdom high in the trees, using vines and other natural resources to create intricate bridges that connect their treetop dwellings and various small elven villages on the outskirts. Rivers and lakes meander through the kingdom, nourishing both the population and the thriving flora. Additionally, a series of clearings that resemble a circle-like pattern is spread throughout the region. Is it natural, or man-made?.......Or should I say, elven-made? Did you actually think you sounded cool saying that? Actually, I didn¡¯t, but now I do feel kind of dumb because of that. Thanks, Sys. De nada. With all of that being said, I do feel like there¡¯s something missing with my map. For a world as big as this, I would¡¯ve expected more¡­..detailing on the regions. For example, what about any caves, waterfalls, labyrinths even? I purposely removed all specific detailing on the maps, and I kept the bare necessities of the world that you should at least know. ¡°Why?¡± You said you wanted to see sights with a blank slate. So, you can explore this world and discover new areas, without any preconceived notions in mind. You¡¯ll be able to find never before seen places, and maybe even uncover some of the mysteries in this world¡­¡­..at least, that is what you wanted, right? ¡­¡­..I wasn¡¯t expecting that. I know I had¡ªI know I ¡°vented¡± to Sys about why I so desperately wanted to explore. I know that it was programmed into it to at least listen to me¡­yap. But, was it programming that made Sys erase the map¡¯s details? Was it programming that forced Sys to even think of doing this?.......If it wasn¡¯t¡­..then is it possible for me to go against my own programming? ¡°Sys, uhm¡­..thanks.¡± What for? ¡°For¡­you know, actually listening to me.¡± You should be grateful. All I wanted to do was guide you on your journey, and here you go, harping about your dumb beliefs and wild dreams. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m never going to thank you again¡­¡­and hold on, you were the one who made me contin-¡± Stop living in the past. By living in the past, you become unable to see the future. You then spend your time in the present by preparing for an invisible future, without knowing you¡¯re wasting the only time you have that you¡¯re guaranteed to live in. ¡°Who¡¯d you steal that quote from?¡± Hmm, if I remember correctly, it was 3 people that came up with it. ¡°Wait, actually? Who were they?¡± Me, myself, and I. ¡°I¡¯m going to sleep.¡± Birthday Plan Do you know how ¡°birthdays¡± came to be? ¡°No.¡± The idea of birthdays actually originated from Egypt with the crowning of- ¡°That wasn¡¯t an invitation for you to elaborate on this.¡± When Egyptian pharaohs were crowned, they were also, as a part of their tradition, pronounced ¡°gods¡±. ¡°......Why are you still continuing?¡± The main purpose of a birthday celebration was not to mark the birth date of an individual but to commemorate the birth of a ¡®god,¡¯ the newly crowned pharaoh. ¡°And, for what purpose, did you feel the need to say all of that?¡± Sys¡¯ Fun Facts. ¡°More like Sys¡¯ Shitty Statements.¡± :( If you couldn¡¯t tell, today marks the one-year anniversary of my arrival in this world¡ªmy birthday. Not much has changed since my last update, aside from a few level-ups and improvements in my physical soul currents. Level: 15 My soul rank remains the same, but not for long. Remember how physical changes in people¡¯s bodies, such as puberty, are signs of soul rank ascensions? Well, thanks to Sys¡¯ insight, I noticed signs that hint towards my proximity to reaching the next color, Purple. My chubbiness has gone away, and my weight has begun to distribute evenly throughout my body, with noticeable increases in height. I started teething around six months old, which was a particularly painful period, but now my molars are also emerging. Despite the pain and my admittedly annoying cries, this is another sign. Alongside my hair growing thicker and fuller, improved hand-eye coordination, and more defined facial features, it¡¯s become clear that I¡¯m on the brink of ascending. The only question was, what am I missing? Ants and other small insects no longer seem effective, and my meditation is becoming too slow. This has given Sys and me a bit of a headache as we pondered what to do. However, after some solitary thinking, I¡¯ve figured it out. Thanks to me. ¡°Uh, what are you talking about?¡± I was the one who figured it out. ¡°You were the one who had to take a rest because your software, and I quote, was ¡®overheating¡¯. You did nothing.¡± I was overheating because I was busy thinking of what to do. And guess what? I figured it out, which is why you even know what to do. ¡°Really? Then, what is it?¡± Hah, you¡¯re not slick. You actually don¡¯t know what it is, and you¡¯re trying to fish the answer out of me. ¡°.....That doesn¡¯t even make sense. I said I knew the answer, and you yourself said you told me what it was, so why would I ask you to say it for the purpose of ¡®fishing out the answer¡¯ when I already know it?¡± If you don¡¯t know what it is, then just admit it. No need to waste both of our time. ¡­..Anyway, what I came up with was fairly straightforward. Since small insects were no longer viable, I would need to soul-absorb larger creatures. Small birds, rodents, and such were the first to come to mind. However, there was a caveat. From what Sys had told me, the ease of absorbing ants and other small insects was due to their simple hive-mind souls, or rather, their lack of individuality. The stronger and more distinctive a creature is, such as a wolf, the more complex their soul becomes. Their souls contain stronger flows and currents, along with a more intricate soul shell. This means that not only are larger creatures¡¯ souls harder to absorb, but I also have to absorb their ¡°Original Insights.¡± An Original Insight is a brief summary of the being¡¯s life, essentially a short montage. If I absorbed a wolf¡¯s soul, I would not only have to bear the influx of the soul¡¯s pure mana, but also the Original Insight that the wolf lived through that shaped the shell and formation of the soul. This is necessary for me to fully comprehend the soul¡¯s composition and accurately determine the soul¡¯s shell, which will be crucial when I eventually learn to summon them. Now, if I were to absorb multiple wolves, I wouldn¡¯t have to absorb multiple Original Insights, but only if the wolf is specific and unique. An example would be an evolved form of a wolf, such as the Direwolf. Normal wolves are generally incapable of wielding magic, but Direwolves can. Direwolves are the stronger, faster, and smarter evolved forms of wolf, with souls powerful enough to use magic. Typically, a Direwolf¡¯s magical trait is determined at birth, with various branches stemming from the main Direwolf line. Examples include the Terrawolf (Wind), Terrawolf (Earth), and the Pyrowolf (Fire). Going back, depending on the creature''s rank, whether determined by a high letter-grade or their position within a group (such as an alpha in a wolf pack), I may or may not need to absorb a new Original Insight. In simple terms, for a pack of normal wolves, one Original Insight would suffice to summon wolves, but I would need the Original Insight of the pack¡¯s alpha. For Direwolves and other stronger creatures, the rule remains the same: one Original Insight is enough. However, if I want the souls of stronger specimens of the same creature, I would need to absorb their souls along with their unique Original Insights. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. With all of this now in mind, my biggest challenge was finding the opportunity to absorb a rodent like creature or a small bird. Despite my advanced physical capabilities for my age, I was still only a mere 1 year old. I was also still unable to cast practical spells, like mana missiles, due to my soul rank. Additionally, I had to be quick with absorbing the soul. See, when a living being dies, their soul¡¯s core lingers for mere minutes before being transferred to the afterlife. After the core leaves, the soul¡¯s shell and remaining parts spread around the body, affecting the environment. The purity of the soul¡¯s remains enhances the environment, speeding up plant growth and purifying the air. This is how Divine Herbs are formed. It is also why farmers kill small critters and leave their bodies near crops¡ªto improve crop growth, rejuvenate the soil, and enhance growing capabilities. Returning to the problem at hand, the only solutions I could think of were either setting a trap or foraging outside to find a dead one. The latter was unlikely, as my parents rarely let me outside and would not approve of me venturing deep into the treelines. The former seemed even more improbable, given that I had no opportunity to devise or set up a trap. I considered this problem back when I was only ten months old. I contemplated various alternatives, but nothing seemed plausible until I realized something: I didn¡¯t need to find or kill the animal myself. All I needed was the carcass. With this in mind, I devised a plan¡ªa plan I could finally execute today, on my birthday. It was mid afternoon. The air had a buzz of excitement, with the cause being my Mom singing a song while working in the kitchen. Dad was outside chopping down trees as usual, while Arthur and Elaine were tending the small farm in the back. I was in the main room, continuing my makeshift workout routine. *sniff sniff* ¡°Are you¡­¡­ crying?¡± Yes, I am. I¡¯m just so¡­..shocked by your progress. Before you couldn¡¯t even budge it, but you¡­..you can move it up a couple of centimeters LMFAO. ¡°Gee, thanks. It¡¯s almost like I¡¯m still a baby.¡± Does it matter? You had 9 months to train in the womb. You should be benching at least a plate by now. ¡­¡­..Alright, it¡¯s time to proceed with the plan. I walked over to Mom with a bright smile. She was preoccupied with cutting a bird while preparing fruits and vegetables, so I had to call out to get her attention. ¡°MA!¡± Mom turned to look at me and gently smiled as she stooped down. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Help.¡± I blurted out as I pointed my little finger towards the back. Mom held a quizzical look as she tried to make out what I was trying to tell her. ¡°Help?¡± She looked over to the back and hurried over, peering through a small window. Seeing Arthur and Elaine tending the crops, she returned back to me. ¡°Do they need my help?¡± I shook my head politely as I pointed to myself. ¡°Help Ar and Ella.¡± Dude, learn how to speak. Mom¡¯s eyes glowed with understanding. ¡°Oh, you want to go help your brother and sister?¡± She smiled with proudness, but a hint of concern shone through. ¡°I don¡¯t know Beric. You¡¯re still too little.¡± I anticipated this response, so I unleashed my secret weapon. I gave her the widest eyes I could possibly do, a subtle head tilt, and lowered my eyebrows.. To complete the act, I said, in a shaky voice, ¡°Pwease?¡± WHAT THE FU- Mom was clearly unprepared for this. She clutched her chest, her eyes straining as she took a short break to control her breathing. She looked towards the back, probably debating whether to let me go or not. To ensure her permission and to advance to the next stage of the plan, I had made prior preparations. First, I ensured I was on my best behavior. I picked up after myself, caused minimal trouble, and obeyed my parents. I deliberately engaged in ¡°advanced¡± activities like cleaning up, walking, and talking to demonstrate my quick learning ability. This was crucial in convincing my parents that I was capable of helping and didn¡¯t require excessive supervision outside. Then, why do you talk like that? ¡°Have you ever heard of a one year old that could say proper sentences?¡± Didn¡¯t you say you wanted to seem like a super genius? Wouldn¡¯t it help if you revealed you could actually talk? ¡°In terms of showing my talent, things like my learning ability should be enough for now. Regarding my speech, it¡¯ll help with making them adore me. If they adore me enough, they¡¯ll probably be more lenient with me.¡± Adore you? You don¡¯t even have to do all of that then. You¡¯re the youngest child. You automatically become the most loved one. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know.¡± Anyway, there¡¯s one more thing I¡¯ve done to help. With Arthur and Elaine now occupied with school, friends, and their chores, they had become much busier. Arthur had recently begun swordsmanship training with the village elders, while Elaine helped Mom with household duties. Their spare time had significantly diminished, which meant they no longer played with me as often. I was aware of this shift and decided to use it to my advantage. Each chance I got, I would complain to my parents about my desire to play with them more. This was part of my strategy¡ªto plant a seed that would bloom into a luscious fruit¡­..hopefully now, that is. Mom rubbed her chin thoughtfully, her expression revealing the internal debate she was having. On one side was her concern for my safety, worried that I might hurt myself or impede my siblings'' progress. On the other side was her understanding of the need for me to spend more time with them. It was starting to tilt in her left side''s favor, but after remembering my learning ability and great sense of responsibility for my age, it seemed like the right side was going to win. ¡°Beric, will you listen to everything your siblings tell you to do?¡± Mom asked with a sharp look. I nodded my head vigorously. Mom sighed, resting her head sideways as she wrestled with her decision. Her eyebrows furrowed in thought, weighing the pros and cons. After a few moments, she broke into a smile. ¡°Alright, Beric. You can help your brother and sister.¡± ¡°Ok!¡± I yelled as I ran to the back door. It worked. It was now time for Stage 2. True Intent The backdoor was left slightly ajar, allowing a few streams of sunlight to enter. I rushed over and heaved the door fully open. I then walked headfirst outside, for the first time ever in this life. And in your previous life. Heh, gottem. ¡­¡­¡­ ¡­¡­..Are you gonna say anything? The bright sun was at its peak, emphasizing that it was the apex of the afternoon. The sky stretched vast and open, dotted with a few clouds and the faint traces of a rainbow, likely from last night''s rainfall. Bro, come on. Don¡¯t do me like this. At least acknowledge what I said. The trees surrounded the area, their broad, sturdy trunks rising high. Dark green, thick leaves crowned them, forming canopies that shaded the ground below. The branches occasionally intertwined with those of neighboring trees, creating a natural link across the small forested region. Fuck you too. To the right and just behind the house lay our family''s small farm. It was fenced in by Dad''s own hands, containing numerous rows of crops and a flock of four chickens along with a rooster. I could see both Arthur and Ella there¡ªArthur was messing with the chickens, while Ella was watering some crops. Dad was most likely further into the treeline, chopping down trees as usual. My main purpose for going outside was to scope out the surroundings. I wanted a clear understanding of what I had to work with, what type of creatures thrived here, and the nature of the environment I was in. As I mentioned earlier, we lived in a forested area, with a dirt path that led deeper into the woods. From what I had heard from Mom and Dad, that road led to the Village Centre, the "town hall" of the village, so to speak. The road then diverged into separate paths leading to the homes of other villagers and various buildings like the town well. Besides the village, there wasn''t much else in the area, apart from the vast forest. The nearest village was Duskgrove, about 9,000 feet to the left of us. This meant that to enhance my soul magic and physical condition, I would have to rely on the forest. I needed to figure out what creatures I could absorb and what materials I could gather. I activated soul sense and examined my surroundings. At the top of the tree line, I detected a few small souls, each carrying the distinct scent of nuts, accompanied by the faint chittering of what I assumed were squirrels. Occasionally, amidst the branches, I sensed a couple of a different type of soul¡ªlikely birds. Their souls fluttered in the wind, along with their familiar chirping. On the ground, in the trees, and practically everywhere were the same small bugs I''d seen around my home. From my soul sense, there appeared to be no larger creatures nearby; they were probably deeper in the forest, away from the village''s sight. One thing that caught my eye was the vines on a tree not too far away. I had a few ideas for acquiring souls, and if done right, those vines could be crucial. All I needed to do was¡ª "Beric?" A familiar female voice called out. Shit. I looked towards the source and saw Elaine, her curious expression still focused as she continued watering the crops. She beckoned me over, and I reluctantly walked over. I climbed over the fence, hopped down, and stood in front of her. She wore a light green-dyed leather kirtle, her usual attire for outdoor work. "How did you get out here?" Elaine asked, her expression worried. "Ma," I blurted. Her eyes softened. "Did Mom let you out?" I nodded. She let out a small sigh. "So she finally thinks you''re old enough... Alright then. Come help me water these." She pointed to a small clay watering can. I knew better than to disobey. Believe me, I did. So, I complied and dragged the watering can over. The two of us finished watering the remaining crops. "Today¡¯s your first birthday," Elaine murmured with a small smile. I showed no sign of understanding, as it wouldn''t make sense for a one-year-old to know what a birthday was, even if they were a genius. Before she could continue, we were interrupted by the shadow of Arthur as he jumped over the fence, soaring past us. He rolled to break his fall and hit a fence in the process. What a flashy entrance. "Ouch. Yikes, yikes, yikes," Arthur grumbled, massaging his arm. "What happened now?" Elaine asked, her expression bored. "I don¡¯t know. I was just playing tag and whatnot when Big C went crazy." Context: Big C is the name for the oldest hen in the flock. Lil C is a chick Dad found in the wild. C.C. and Chippie are two young hens that Mom bought. Rod the rooster is Arthur¡¯s prized possession. He was a reward for a village-wide event that Arthur won when he was younger. "Went crazy? Yeah, sure," Elaine said dismissively. "No, I¡¯m serious. All I did was pluck one of her feathers," Arthur insisted. "Pluck her fea¡ªAre you stupid?" Elaine exclaimed. "Don¡¯t you know how sensitive her feathers are?" "I was just trying to train her," Arthur mumbled. "Train her?" Arthur''s eyes lit up as he explained. "You know, get her used to the feeling of her feathers being plucked." He said it with a proud smile, confident in his reasoning. "Arthur, you make marbles look sharp. What made you think that¡ª" Elaine began, then continued to berate Arthur. That¡¯s crazy. Me, personally, I wouldn¡¯t let that slide. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. "We both know you would." No, I wouldn¡¯t. Do you know why? "Why?" ...I don¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t think this far ahead. While Elaine was scolding Arthur, I looked back at the vines I''d noticed earlier. I wanted to create a specific device with those vines, but it wasn''t like I could simply take them. I could try to use hand gestures to explain why I needed them, but I doubted Elaine would understand. Moreover, she¡¯d likely find it strange that I wanted vines at all. Time was of the essence, considering we''d all soon need to go back inside and help prepare dinner for my birthday. To make my plan work, I needed to hurry up, finish crafting my device, and move on to the last stage. Arthur, however, was a different case¡ªnot only did he have his own version of the device, but he was also capable of making them. Despite his... slower mind compared to Elaine, I was sure he could figure it out. There was just one problem: Elaine was still berating Arthur. At this rate, I''d fall behind and miss my chance. I needed to find a way to stop Elaine while preferably getting her out of the way. You could just lie and tell her your mom called for her. "That would work, but it could lower Elaine¡¯s opinion of me. She might get annoyed, or even worse, she could start thinking I''m a liar. If that happened, the image of me as an intelligent, responsible baby brother would shatter, erasing future benefits. And even if she didn¡¯t mind too much, there¡¯d be no way to accurately convey that I¡¯d simply misheard Mom. It would just plant a seed of doubt in her mind." You¡¯re overthinking it, dude. Let¡¯s see... What could I do? How do I divert her attention while also moving her away? What could I use? Nothing really stood out, except for a large red tomato to my right. Ironically, I actually needed a tomato for the final stage of my plan. It almost felt as if it were mocking me for lagging behind. I then noticed a slight glow on its surface. At first, I thought I was seeing things out of desperation, but no, I wasn¡¯t. The water from Elaine''s watering can reflected sunlight, creating a bright glow. Wait... water... That''s it. I made sure to specifically grab Elaine''s watering can and held it close to my chest. I could have carried it normally, given my enhanced physical abilities, but I chose this on purpose. I then hobbled over to Elaine and dramatically tripped over a small pebble. Fucking drama queen. The water from the watering can erupted, drenching her kirtle. Elaine tensed as she felt the cold water touch her legs, and quickly turned around. She glared in annoyance and confusion at what had soaked her, but her glare softened when she saw me lying on the ground, still holding the watering can in my right hand. She immediately stooped down to help me up, dusting off my arms and legs. "Are you hurt anywhere?" Elaine asked urgently, her worried expression examining me. I shook my head slowly as tears began to well up. Elaine noticed this. "Don''t lie to me now." She helped me stand straight, still trying to figure out what was wrong. She closely inspected the small cut on my finger that I had gotten yesterday¡ªa bite from a rat that had made its way into my parents room through a small hole. She checked for any dirt or other impurities that could cause an infection. Thankfully, she saw nothing concerning and decided that I wasn''t too hurt, apart from some dirt stains on my clothes. I pointed to Arthur and then back at her, sniffling. "Arthur¡­ You¡­ Yell," I squeaked, sniffling profusely. I then pointed back to the crops. "Me help." Arthur squatted beside Elaine. "What''s wrong, little bro?" He nudged me on the shoulder. "No pain, no gain, right?" Elaine elbowed Arthur in the stomach, causing him to double over in pain. She leaned her head slightly while gently grabbing my right hand. "Are you crying because¡­ I was yelling at Arthur?" I wiped my tears with my arms before nodding. She looked at the crops, her eyes seemingly piecing things together. She then glanced at her watering can, the one I had clearly chosen instead of the smaller one. "Did you try to water the crops on your own with my watering can¡­ to make me happy and stop me from yelling at Arthur?" "¡­Yes," I said quietly, avoiding her gaze. She let out a small laugh. "That''s very mature of you, Beric." She then snapped her fingers at Arthur, who was still writhing in pain. "Get up." Arthur grumbled as he slowly stood up. "It''s on you if I end up vomiting." "Beric, I was yelling at Arthur, but it wasn''t out of anger." "Eh¡­" Arthur disagreed. "Arthur," Elaine said with a chilling tone. "My apologies," Arthur said, quickly bowing. Ignoring Arthur, Elaine held both of my hands. "I was yelling at him because I knew he could do better. Despite being irresponsible, careless, and thoughtless, he is, above all, still my brother. My anger stems from concern and worry about the situations that could harm him and others if he continues to behave this way. There are times when he pushes me to my limits, but my love for him always outweighs it. It is not only my duty as his sister, but also as a fellow human being, to guide him into becoming a better version of himself." "Sure didn''t sound like it. You were saying some pretty hurtful words," Arthur said cheekily. "It wasn''t that bad," Elaine said with an exasperated look. Arthur gave her a doubtful expression. Elaine let out a small sigh. "I may have said some harsh things, but words don''t always carry the true intent of a person''s mind. People don''t always mean what they say. Some may yell out threats when blinded by rage, but once their vision clears, they realize the weight of their words and seek forgiveness. Some may smile brightly in public and seem cheerful, but inside, they might be hiding a deep sadness. People may even cry and insist on how hurt they are, only to be faking it for attention and pity. In short, I didn''t mean everything I said¡­ at least, not most of it." "Hey." "Even so, you shouldn''t worry too much about things like this, Beric." Elaine pulled me into a tight hug. "You''re still just a baby. Don''t worry about scary things like yelling or about fixing conflicts. A baby should only play and laugh joyfully, without a care in the world. Don''t let your maturity make you act like an adult and miss out on your childhood." She''s only nine and she talks like this? "You sort of ruined the mood, Sys." My fault, g. Honestly, though, Sys was right. It was surprising how mature she was and how high her emotional intelligence seemed. I hadn''t expected this from her, but it was nice to hear¡­ even if I was guilty of what she had just said. "Okay," I responded. Wow, so you''re just going to respond to her heartfelt speech with a simple "okay"? "Shut up. What do you want me to say? I''m just a baby, jackass." I appreciate your kind words, oh wonderful sister of mine. "Mute yourself." Elaine got up, brushing off her skirt. "I guess I''ll have to change." "Sorry," I murmured shyly. Elaine smiled softly. "It''s okay, Beric. Don''t worry about it. I was feeling stuffy in it anyway." I awkwardly shuffled my feet, lowering my head in embarrassment. I then bent down to pick up her now-empty watering can. Elaine paused, thinking quickly. If this worked, then she should say¡­ "Alright, Beric. If you really want to make it up to me, then go ahead and refill the watering cans and water the rest of the crops while I go change. Does that sound good?" "Okay," I responded once again. I grabbed the smaller watering can and placed it on top of hers, allowing me to carry them easily together. I then stumbled over to the nearby creek. "Don''t let him out of your sight," Elaine said over her shoulder to Arthur. "I know," Arthur sighed, following closely behind me. With Elaine out of the picture for this specific part, the plan was halfway done. Watering Can With Arthur trailing behind me, I headed to the back left of the farm, following a narrow dirt path. The path seemed much clearer compared to the surroundings, thanks to Dad removing all the thistles and bushes. The chirping of birds and the incessant buzzing of small insects formed a small, annoying orchestra ringing in my ears. The mid-afternoon sun cast deep shadows within the forest, creating phantoms across the trees. Eventually, I heard the sounds of a steady, flowing stream. I¡¯m surprised that everything is going the way you intended. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Your methods of convincing your mother to let you out were impressive, especially how you quickly improvised a way to move your sister out of the equation while still maintaining a good image in her eyes. I didn¡¯t take you as the calculating type. ¡°Thanks, but it¡¯s really not that impressive. All I did was hide my real intentions by making them focus on the image I created. Back where I¡¯m from, a lot of people did the same thing. They used it to make friends, get jobs, build connections, or simply enhance their own lives. It¡¯s a regular method that people generally use, even if they don¡¯t consciously realize it.¡± Isn¡¯t that what Elaine talked about? The whole ¡®not meaning what you say or do¡¯? ¡°What about it?¡± Well, you did exactly what she was talking about while she was talking about it. You¡¯re kind of a dick for that. ¡°It¡¯s not like revealing my intentions would be a smart option.¡± Well, yeah, obviously you can¡¯t just tell them who you really are, with your soul magic and your past life¡ª ¡°No, not that, dumbass.¡± Huh? Arthur and I made our way to the creek. The aquamarine water glowed, and the sounds of frogs croaking and splashing filled the air. Numerous lily pads dotted the stream, with the shadows of small fish darting by in the water. I got as close as I could to the creek, and Arthur made sure I didn¡¯t accidentally fall in. We squatted side by side as he handed me a few small cups for transporting the creek water into my watering can. Are you going to finish what you started earlier? ¡°...There¡¯s no point.¡± Bro, come on. You can¡¯t just dangle the fish hook right in front of me and expect me not to bite. ¡°Huh?¡± Just tell me, you bitch. I let out a deep sigh. ¡°Are you sure?¡± Sure as I¡¯ll ever be. ¡°Look, revealing your true thoughts is just unwise in general. Let¡¯s say you¡¯re hanging out with your close friends. You¡¯re living one of the best days of your life, thanks to the atmosphere your friends created, their stupid jokes, and the sound of their laughter.¡± I plunged a cup into the water, pulling it back out after just a few seconds. The cup was tiny and couldn¡¯t hold a substantial amount of water, yet even this minuscule amount made it heavier, even if it was barely noticeable. ¡°Even if everything is set for you to have a fun and enjoyable day, you still can¡¯t shake off those ¡®thoughts¡¯. Whatever it may be¡ªfailing grades at school, a breakup with your significant other, or a bad home life¡ªyou can¡¯t keep pushing these dark thoughts away. But you don¡¯t want to ruin the mood, so you wait for the perfect time to tell your friends what¡¯s on your mind.¡± By this point, the watering can had been filled up to a third, thanks to my continuous efforts. It had gained some weight, but I wasn¡¯t done yet. There was still a long way to go. ¡°The thing is, that time never comes. Your friends are busy with their own lives, focusing on graduating with good grades, dating their boyfriends and girlfriends, and dealing with their own issues. You try your best to wait, but the thoughts keep getting darker. Eventually, these thoughts play on your emotions, and you begin to harbor negative feelings towards yourself and your friends. You feel like a coward for not being able to simply speak to your friends. You also blame your friends because you think it¡¯s their fault for not being caring enough for you to feel comfortable sharing with them. But, you know that¡¯s a lie. You realize that this whole situation rests on your shoulders. You¡¯re just trying to share the blame. Yet, you don¡¯t want to carry all this self-inflicted blame, so your feelings of resentment toward your friends grow. This cycle of hatred keeps expanding until your rationality becomes too weak.¡± The watering can was full now, so I handed Arthur my cups as I heaved it to my chest. Arthur yawned as he got up and started heading home, and I followed, marching right behind him. ¡°You don¡¯t want to do it over the phone because you feel they¡¯ll have an easier chance to come up with an excuse to get away. However, you also want to say this to all of them at once. Why? Perhaps out of a selfish need for attention, or maybe because you¡¯re confident that they¡¯re all your close friends and that they will surely listen. So, you decide to do this at the next hangout. The time comes, and you¡¯re all having a blast at a friend¡¯s house. They¡¯re cracking jokes and retelling old stories, oblivious to your inner turmoil. You laugh with them, even as your mind teeters on the brink of shattering. Eventually, the mood dies down just enough for you to feel that your voice could be heard. So, you do it. You tell them your worries about school, your parents, your studies, money, feeling alone, and how you still don¡¯t know what you¡¯ll do in the future. You share how you struggle to figure out what you want in life.¡± I peered down at the water in the can. It was still, with a periodic ripple, likely from my heartbeat. I kept the can close to my chest, which blocked my view ahead. ¡°The house becomes silent. Not a sound is audible, except for the TV in the background playing an old show you used to love. The sunlight gleaming through the window seems to vanish, obscuring the faces of your friends. And yet, you still know their expressions. They don¡¯t show anger, nor empathy, and especially not sadness. Their faces look disturbed. Why? Because you ruined the day. The plan was for everyone to have a fun time, to forget about serious matters like school and getting a job. But here you are, burning it all down to dust. Perhaps you even broke an unspoken rule: hangouts like these were meant to help people take their minds off things. They were there to help everyone cool down and ignore their problems. But, of course, you broke that by speaking up. You know this, so you quickly apologize, hoping the day can return to normal. You wish they could just ignore this. You hope they can move on as if nothing happened. But, you know that can¡¯t be. All you can hope for now is that you had never spoken, that it was all just an extreme form of daydreaming. Your friends uncomfortably return to whatever they were doing before your outburst, but it¡¯s not the same. An air of uneasiness surrounds everyone, almost choking them. Everyone is too tense from what you said, causing the few remaining conversations to fizzle out until all you can hear is your own thoughts¡ªthe thoughts you had wished to share. The thoughts you believed would bring you closer to your friends are now the very ones that have ended up separating you even more.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Due to my obscured vision, I couldn¡¯t see far ahead, which is why I tripped on a small rock. I fell sharply forward, and my watering can seemed to ¡°leap¡± out of my grasp. I hit the ground hard, feeling the pebble and small rocks underneath scrape against my leg. The watering can suffered the same fate, crashing down and causing the water inside to erupt outward. Arthur heard the commotion and quickly turned around. He rushed over, saw my predicament, and helped me up while doing his best to comfort me. When he noticed the cut on my leg, he winced as he saw blood trickling down. ¡°This is nothing, Beric. You¡¯re 1 now, okay? The Big 1, so something light like this shouldn¡¯t hurt.¡± Arthur applied some saliva to his finger and carefully dabbed at my cut. When he decided it was enough, he picked up my watering can and offered me a piggyback ride, which I accepted. He hoisted me up, and I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck as we continued on. ¡°Days passed, and your friends tried their best to listen to you. Despite that awkward attempt before, they understood your desperation and wanted to help you. However, they couldn¡¯t. After all, what could they even do to help you in the first place? You didn¡¯t even know what you wanted. All you were suffering from was a strict household, an unclear future, and a lack of motivation. You weren¡¯t truly suffering¡ªat least, not on the same level as they were. They couldn¡¯t help you when you didn¡¯t even know why you needed help. But you knew you wanted it. You knew you needed it. So, you continued venting to them, hoping that one day they might understand... But that day never came. Your friends couldn¡¯t wait forever; they had their own lives and problems¡ªproblems that were actually worth talking about compared to yours. You knew this, and you couldn¡¯t stop them. Why stop them when they knew what they needed to do? When they had clear futures? When they had other people to talk to? So, it stopped. Your friends gave you empty words of regret and confidence, assuring you that you¡¯d push through it, but you could see through their facade. They were tired of you, only saying those things to comfort themselves. Like they had done their best and that there was nothing else they could do.¡± My hands clenched, fingers digging into Arthur¡¯s shoulders. ¡°But that¡¯s complete bullshit. Even if I can¡¯t properly explain my troubles, even if I chose the wrong time and place, and even if their lives are more ¡®important,¡¯ why does the fault lie with me? Just because I spoke out, because I revealed my real thoughts, the real ¡®me,¡¯ instead of that damned facade of pretending everything was fine, somehow it¡¯s my fault? Fuck that. They were my friends, and they had the nerve to leave me like that? To abandon me for new people? Did they befriend me just to have a source of amusement and then toss me aside when I couldn''t keep up with them? The instant I show signs of weakness, they decide to leave, to not waste their so-called ¡®valuable¡¯ time on me?¡± My fingers strained as I dug deeper into Arthur¡¯s shoulders. He eventually felt the pain and asked, ¡°Woah, Beric, mind easing up back there? It¡¯s starting to hurt.¡± I hadn¡¯t even realized I was doing that, so I loosened my grip. I quickly thought of an excuse, zoning in on my cut. I audibly winced as I gently swayed my leg. Arthur noticed. ¡°It¡¯s okay, buddy. I got you. Pain makes everybody oblivious to what they¡¯re doing.¡± I returned to resting my head on his back. Beric, that wasn¡¯t just a story, was it? ¡°......So what if it is? Does that matter? If I confirm it, what will change? Would it help anyone?¡± ¡­..I- ¡°If I do confirm that, what will you say? Will you tell me those same words my friends once told me? Those empty husks of words, hidden behind those bored, hollow faces. Will you try and fail miserably like them, using those redundant and unoriginal motivational speeches? Will you do that to help me feel better, or to make yourself feel good?¡± ¡­¡­¡­. I thought so. Just like those ¡°friends,¡± silent. ¡­¡­¡­. ¡°Do you see what I mean now?¡± ¡­What? ¡°I warned you that there was no point in telling you this. I tried to tell you that. But you didn¡¯t listen. Now, our relationship¡ªwhatever it may have been before this¡ªwill be forever changed. Now that you know my real thoughts, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re weirded out, to whatever extent an AI like you can be. I¡¯m positive this wasn¡¯t what you were expecting. I¡¯m certain you don¡¯t know what to say. I¡¯m confident you believe it was my fault that they couldn¡¯t help me. That it was my own foolishness that started my downfall. Am I right?¡± ¡­Beric, I¡ª ¡°Before you say that, are you sure it¡¯s worth saying whatever you¡¯re about to say?¡± What? ¡°My friends tried everything to help me. They spent days, weeks, months, years¡ªall to lift me up. They cheered me on, motivated me, helped me search for a calling in life, and tried to take my mind off things... but nothing worked. Nothing they did made a difference. No speech, no game, no hug, no heart-to-heart conversation¡ªnothing. Which is why I ask you now: are you sure whatever you¡¯re about to say will help me, or will it simply push us further apart, just like I did?¡± ...I don¡¯t¡ªI don¡¯t know. ¡°......I¡¯ll tell you this: there¡¯s nothing you can do to help me. There¡¯s nothing that will change my mind about certain things. The only thing you can do, and should do, is to help me become stronger. That¡¯s all I ask. At best, maybe just keep being my loyal companion. Feel free to keep making jokes to help us both forget about this. If you do that, without asking me further of my past self, we¡¯ll have no troubles whatsoever.¡± ¡­¡­Why? Why do you resent sharing information of your past self, or rather, your true self? ¡°.....I simply don¡¯t enjoy remembering those times.¡± ¡­¡­I see. I¡¯m sorry for¡­..forcing you to relive them. As we walked, I noticed a tree covered in vines. I nudged Arthur and pointed in its direction. He followed my finger and looked up at the tree. ¡°.....A tree? What about it?¡± I made a gesture, pulling back and letting go of an imaginary object. Arthur''s eyes widened in realization. ¡°A slingshot? But why mention that now...?¡± He trailed off, deep in thought. Then he noticed the vines. ¡°Oh, do you want me to pick some vines to make a slingshot for you?¡± I nodded vigorously. ¡°Got it. Though it¡¯ll be difficult to carry everything.¡± Arthur mumbled as he walked over to the tree. He set the watering can down and began tearing off some vines. I then extended my hand. ¡°Do you want to carry it?¡± Arthur asked. I waved my hand in confirmation. He obliged, handing me the vines while he picked up the watering can, and we continued on our way home. I will accept your request. I will do everything in my power to assist you in the journey of becoming stronger, while also not pushing my boundaries and intruding in on your personal thoughts. ¡°That¡¯s good to hear¡­¡­..Though, I guess there is one thing I should mention.¡± What is it? ¡°With everything said, there was one thing I gained from losing my friends.¡± What was it? ¡°The realization that seeking true friendship is dangerous and futile. At best, friends are meant to provide an escape from reality, to share in laughter over their silly jokes. They can help us laugh away our dark thoughts, but that¡¯s all. Striving for a genuine connection will only lead to pain. When they eventually depart from our lives, the hurt will be only magnified if you foolishly see them as true friends. This understanding helped me realize something crucial: friends have too much control over your emotions. When they hang out with you, joy and excitement are inevitable. When they share their struggles, you can¡¯t help but feel saddened and empathetic. If someone insults them, you feel a surge of anger. But when they become busy and begin to leave you alone, that loneliness settles in... and when they eventually leave your life, it feels like a part of you dies. For someone like me, who craves freedom, friends can become nothing more than controlling restrictions. I can¡¯t let some absurd concept like friends distract me from my goal.¡± Arthur suddenly groaned and held up the watering can. ¡°Oh no. Is that a hole?¡± From what I could see, there was indeed a hole in the can I had dropped. Arthur glanced back at me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not blaming you for this. If needed, I¡¯ll just take the blame, okay?¡± He smiled brightly. ¡°Okay,¡± I whispered. Arthur turned back to the front, humming a tune I remembered hearing Mom hum once before. I looked back at the hole. Most likely, it had appeared due to my fall¡­¡­¡­but was that really the case? Was there a chance that the hole had always existed, initially tiny but growing steadily over time until it forever changed the watering can?......Or maybe, if the hole was always there, it had finally become big enough to reveal the watering can¡¯s true form? Slingshot After a long journey, Arthur and I finally returned home. As we neared the crops, we both noticed Elaine by the front door, hanging clothes to dry. Arthur called out to her while he knelt down for me to dismount. Elaine paused and squinted as she saw me limping, then placed the shirt she was holding back into the basket and walked over. ¡°Why¡¯s Beric limping?¡± she asked, glancing at Arthur. ¡°We managed to refill the watering cans, but on the way back, he tripped over a rock or something,¡± Arthur explained. Sensing he was about to get scolded after seeing Elaine¡¯s eyes go dark, he added, ¡°But don¡¯t get mad yet! It¡¯s just a small cut, nothing serious. He probably just needs a bit of rest before he¡¯s back to normal.¡± ¡°You weren¡¯t watching him? Couldn¡¯t you have caught him before he fell?¡± Elaine pressed. ¡°I was walking in front of him! How could I catch him if I couldn¡¯t even see him?¡± Arthur replied, exasperated. Bad move. He shouldn¡¯t have said that. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s ggs for him.¡± ¡°You weren¡¯t-¡± Elaine sighed, rubbing her temple. ¡°Whatever, that¡¯s not important,¡± she muttered. She knelt down to inspect my cut. ¡°At least it¡¯s not infected,¡± she said, looking up at me. ¡°Is it hard to walk?¡± I nodded, playing along. Why are you acting like it hurts? Oh, no, don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re one of those attention seekers. ¡°That¡¯s not why I¡¯m doing it.¡± Then what¡¯s your plan? ¡°You¡¯ll see soon enough.¡± Elaine stood up. ¡°Alright, Beric, I¡¯ll carry you inside. Arthur, finish watering the crops.¡± Arthur mumbled, ¡°About that¡­¡± ¡°What now?¡± Elaine asked, turning sharply. ¡°There¡¯s a hole in the smaller watering can.¡± Elaine groaned. ¡°How did that happen?¡± ¡°I think when Beric fell, the can hit a rock,¡± Arthur admitted. ¡°....I see. I¡¯ll ask Dad to fix it,¡± she sighed, inspecting the hole. She made a sound of annoyance, but quickly softening, she turned to me with a small smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Beric. We¡¯re not blaming you. Everyone¡¯s broken something before, and this should be an easy fix.¡± Turning back to Arthur, she asked, ¡°Is the larger can still usable?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Arthur grumbled. ¡°Then start watering.¡± ¡°Why do I have to do it?¡± Arthur protested. ¡°Do you want to eat or not?¡± Elaine shot back. Arthur muttered, ¡°I do like eating¡­¡± ¡°Exactly. Now, get to it,¡± Elaine said, motioning for me to hop on her back. But I had other plans. I knew Arthur¡¯s real reason for avoiding water duty¡ªhe was terrified of bugs. Despite his tough exterior, one look at a creepy crawler would send him running. And, usually, he didn¡¯t have to water the crops because of this. But today, time was running short, so he was forced to step up. That wasn¡¯t going to work for me. I needed Arthur to finish building my slingshot, and I also had to personally talk to Dad before it was too late. So, I refused to get on Elaine¡¯s back. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Beric?¡± Elaine asked, confused. I pointed at Arthur. ¡°What about him?¡± she asked, glancing between us. ¡°Huh?¡± Arthur said, clueless as ever. It was moments like these that I got annoyed with his¡­¡­.slower mind. I mimicked firing a slingshot at him. Finally, his eyes lit up, and a grin spread across his face. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right! Elaine, I can¡¯t do water duty.¡± ¡°And why not?¡± ¡°I promised Beric I¡¯d make him a slingshot.¡± ¡°.........Why can¡¯t you make it later?¡± Arthur¡¯s grin faded. ¡°Uh... good point.¡± I sighed. I always had to do the thinking for him. I tugged on Elaine¡¯s sleeve and gave her my best tearful look. You little fucker- ¡°Shut up.¡± Elaine softened. ¡°Beric, we don¡¯t have time for this.¡± The sun was beginning to set, signaling the end of the afternoon, and the beginning of the evening. ¡°It is his birthday,¡± Arthur chimed in. ¡°Let the birthday boy get what he wants.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why I need you to water the crops,¡± Elaine said, clearly frustrated. From what I could guess, it was most probable she had two major problems to worry over. For one, my injury. From how I led her to believe it was hard for me to walk, she would prioritize my safety, which meant carrying me back inside. For her, this would be her best bet. But, now that I showed how much I wanted a slingshot, there were new possible problems that were on the horizon. What if she kept trying to force me to go back inside? Well, I would probably have a temper tantrum, even if I was highly responsible for my age. My natural tendency to cause a commotion would still outweigh my rationality. If that happened, and I kept this anger up back inside, it would only make sense for Mom to question Elaine, which in turn would cause her to lose even more time. Then, there would be a small argument with Mom wondering why Elaine simply couldn¡¯t let me stay outside, and Elaine would have to explain everything, especially how I tripped and got this cut. If they kept going, then Mom would worry about Arthur¡¯s ability at watering the crops. She would question if Arthur would perhaps even be able to begin, and if his efforts would only slow us down. Of course, this would all be out of love and concern for Arthur, and not of a lack of belief in Arthur¡¯s inherent abilities. Would carrying me back inside really save time, or would it simply lose time and cause more headaches? The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I don¡¯t think she¡¯s thinking that far ahead. ¡°Maybe not, but just to be sure¡­¡± I stepped in front of Elaine and poked at the rat bite on my finger. She noticed and her expression shifted. ¡°Alright, here¡¯s how it¡¯s going to work,¡± she said, turning to Arthur. ¡°You¡¯ll make Beric¡¯s slingshot and watch him closely. Then, take the broken watering can to Dad and ask him to fix it. You¡¯ll also remind him about making that rat trap. Make sure Beric doesn¡¯t hurt himself again. In the meantime, I¡¯ll finish watering the crops and deal with the laundry. When you¡¯re done, help with the rest of the chores. Clear?¡± ¡°Aye aye,¡± Arthur said with a grin. Okay, are we really going to ignore what happened just 10 minutes ago? This kid Arthur let you walk behind him deep inside a forest. Why¡¯s she just letting him keep watch over you? ¡°You know how the saying goes. Desperate times call for desperate measures.¡± Desperate measures my ass. It¡¯s just your birthday. Why are they so agitated about this? What¡¯s making them rush so much? ¡°You tell me, System.¡± This is different. Birthdays are celebrated differently here in every kingdom. The way they are celebrated depends on the area, culture, and race. For all I know, this could be your last ever birthday. ¡°Is that supposed to be foreshadowing something?¡± Nah, I just pulled that out of my ass. ¡°You don¡¯t even have-¡± ¡°Come on, Beric, let¡¯s get moving,¡± Arthur said, running towards the trees by the house. I followed close behind- Stop lying. ¡°Huh?¡± Your slow ass was not close behind. ¡°Can you relax? I¡¯m trying to tell a story here.¡± Tell the truth little bro. ........It took me a while, but I eventually reached Arthur. Arthur was hunched over as he was looking for fallen branches to use. ¡°Not that one¡­¡­..That¡¯s too long.¡± Pause. ¡°Maybe this could work¡­¡­..Perfect.¡± Arthur said as he snatched a Y-shaped branch. I plopped down as I examined his process. ¡°Beric, the craft of building a slingshot is difficult.¡± Arthur said as he thrust the branch in front of me. Here he goes. Instead of just hurrying up, he decides to make it extra dramatic and dragged on. ¡°Many have tried, and many have failed. Only the chosen few have triumphed and crafted this legendary weapon!¡± Arthur exclaimed as his hands rose up in the air. He probably would have been bullied back on Earth. You¡¯re acting like you wouldn¡¯t get bullied along with him. ¡°Hell no. I¡¯d ignore his corny ass.¡± ¡°But, Beric, I will tell you a secret.¡± Arthur whispered as he leaned in close. Before continuing, he quickly looked around. If this dumb ass doesn¡¯t hurry up with his- ¡°I am the only one in the entire world who has perfected the process of building the slingshot.¡± Arthur declared with a proud grin. Is he¡­..on the lower end of the spectrum? ¡°However, I know that may not be easy to believe, so I will show my skill through my craft, and not through just my words.¡± Arthur added before finally beginning. It¡¯s about damn time. ¡°First, you need a vine that¡¯s about twice the length of the branch itself.¡± Arthur started as he pulled one out from the vine cluster we had brought here. ¡°You also need two smaller ones, not by too much, to tie together with the longest vine.¡± He added as he brought out the two vines. He then began tying the longest one around the two arms of the branch, making sure to add knots to fully secure it. To finish it, he added the two smaller vines, to add more impact when the slingshot was fully ready. He is pretty knowledgeable about this. Perhaps all that talk before wasn¡¯t just his ego. Maybe he really is¡­¡­The Chosen One. ¡°Mute yourself for me.¡± My apologies. ¡°To make it easier on you, I¡¯ll take this vine, and I¡¯ll make a small bag for you to place your projectiles.¡± Arthur then wrapped an additional vine around the middle of the securing vine, forming a small pouch. ¡­¡­..That was actually pretty smart of him. I told you, he¡¯s The Chosen- ¡°Shut up.¡± Ok. ¡°And with that, the diabolical weapon of mass destruction is finished.¡± Arthur said as he proudly presented it towards me. It definitely wasn¡¯t visually as good as the ones back on Earth, but I was sure it would do the job. I thanked Arthur as I took it. It felt good in my hands, with its warm solid texture providing me with a reassuring presence. The vines were closely secured, giving the slingshot a ¡°tight¡± feeling. I could almost feel the slingshot vibrating in my hands, urging me to test it out. No, that¡¯s just you being excited. ¡°Do you mind? I¡¯m having a moment here.¡± A moment with a slingshot? Yeah, you definitely got bullied. Ignoring Sys¡¯ words, I stooped down to grab a small pebble. A small rush of adrenaline coursed through me, as a huge part of my plan was finally accomplished¡­¡­.at least, it would be, if this slingshot worked well. I placed the pebble within the pouch. I raised the slingshot as I pulled back on the central vine. I aimed high at a small bird minding its own business, pruning its feathers on a high branch. I took a deep breath¡­¡­..and I shot it. I watched as the pebble zoomed by, almost disappearing from my sight. I also watched as it just barely grazed the top of the small bird. The bird panicked as it quickly flew away, leaving behind a small feather that slowly fell down¡­¡­.until it landed right on my head. ¡°Woah, great shot there. You might even be better than me.¡± Arthur chuckled as he tousled my hair. This is a¡­..pretty dangerous toy to give to a 1 year old. It was perfect. This slingshot¡­¡­¡­would become very useful. I gripped the slingshot tightly as I let out a small smile. Everything was going perfect. Now, all I had to do was get the second to last piece of the puzzle: Dad¡¯s rat trap. Rat Trap.....? With the task of building my slingshot complete, it was time for the next step: the rat trap. I picked up a couple of pebbles to keep on hand, hoping to improve my aim later. Arthur picked up the small watering can and grabbed hold of my hand. The two of us walked side by side, me shifting my weight onto one leg as we approached the small clearing where Dad was working. We stumbled past small thistles on the ground, listening to the pitter-patter of tiny creatures scurrying through the forest. Traces of small brown fur darted around us, accompanied by the chirping of a family of birds overhead. As we neared Dad¡¯s lumber work, Arthur suddenly froze in his tracks at the sound of a bird cawing. He slowly raised his hand to his head and quickly swiped at his hair. As he gently moved it into his line of sight, his face contorted in disgust as he revealed the wet, white droppings of a bird. ¡°AAAAGHH!¡± Arthur yelled, hurriedly shaking his hand and his head, hoping to remove any traces. All I could do was watch as his frenzy continued, making him so desperate that he resorted to using fallen leaves to clean his head. I couldn''t help but remember a dog that an old friend used to have while watching Arthur¡­¡­.. What was its name? That¡¯s crazy. He probably would¡¯ve seen that coming if he didn¡¯t get ahead of himself. ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­.. ...Do you get it? Because of how it fell on his head¡­ and how I said he got ahead of himself. ¡°Yeah, I got it. I just thought it would be less embarrassing if I didn¡¯t even acknowledge it.¡± ...Thanks? After Arthur was satisfied with the state of his hair, we continued on until we finally reached the clearing. Dad was hard at work on a tree, repeatedly swinging his trusty ax back and forth. The tree resembled an oak¡ªtall and sturdy¡ªwith its beautiful dark brown bark now mostly stripped away thanks to Dad''s efforts. Arthur led me to a small bench Dad had made for his breaks and helped me take a seat before walking over to Dad. As my legs dangled above the ground, I rested my slingshot in my hand, gazing around me. The scattered remains of trees surrounded us¡ªmere trunks that had once been towering giants, housing small critters. While some might find it a sad sight, I noticed small tree saplings sprouting, mirroring the number of tree stumps. I could only guess that Dad had personally replanted them all. As I rested in the darkening sunlight, I overheard Arthur and Dad¡¯s conversation. ¡°Hard at work, Pops?¡± Arthur asked as he helped transport small logs to a wooden wagon. Dad simply raised a hand without looking back. That was usually how he responded to people. Despite his stern expression and the cold aura that emanated from him with each swing of his ax, he wasn¡¯t tired or unable to talk; it was just more comfortable for him. ¡°Sorry to interrupt, but I have a small problem for you.¡± Arthur said as he finished filling the wagon. He showed Dad the watering can. Dad paused his work, sticking his ax into the tree. He turned to Arthur and gently took the watering can, examining it closely. His eyes widened as he noticed the hole. ¡°How did this happen?¡± ¡°Beric and I went to refill the cans, but when we were walking back, Beric tripped and let go of the can,¡± Arthur explained. Dad¡¯s eyebrows raised in surprise. ¡°He tripped? Is he okay?¡± Dad wondered aloud as he began to search for me. ¡°Relax, Pops, he¡¯s fine. Elaine and I already patched him up. He¡¯s right over there on your bench,¡± Arthur said, pointing toward me. Dad¡¯s face returned to its usual grim expression. ¡°I see.¡± ¡°Even though it does hurt for him to walk by himself, I think it¡¯ll wear off soon,¡± Arthur confidently declared. ¡°Why isn¡¯t he inside?¡± ¡°Well, he really wanted me to make him a slingshot,¡± Arthur shrugged. ¡°Make him go inside,¡± Dad replied, turning back to his work. ¡°Oh, wait, I almost forgot. Elaine told me to remind you to make that rat trap,¡± Arthur added. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Dad stopped. ¡°That slipped my mind.¡± He turned around and motioned for Arthur to come over. ¡°Go get these supplies for me.¡± While Arthur went to collect the necessities for the rat trap, I practiced my aim with the slingshot. At first I had aimed at the top of a specific tree stump to the right of me, but instead, I was short¡­¡­..by a meter. I¡¯m guessing first-person shooters weren¡¯t your area of expertise? After a few more stubborn attempts, I finally hit it. With more determined practice, I became more consistent. I began targeting farther tree stumps, the branches of elevated trees, and even moving squirrels sneaking through the trees. For the most part, I excelled at hitting stationary targets but struggled with moving ones. Nevertheless, I focused on stationary targets¡ªhitting them consistently was my goal. However, as I rested from my practice, something in my line of sight caught my attention: a group of small, dark purple flowers resting in the shadows of a particularly tall tree. I didn¡¯t know what captivated me about them, so I asked Sys. ¡°Sys, what type of flowers are those?¡± Those are Midnight Shades. They are a unique type of flower that blooms only during the darkest hours of the night and thrives solely in the shadows. Nothing particularly stood out about them, yet something was alluring. ¡°Is there anything special about them?¡± They are sedative flowers, commonly used to help those with insomnia or difficulty sleeping. Sedative? That could actually be useful¡ª¡°Sys, how many of these flowers would be enough to cause a fully grown man to fall asleep within, let¡¯s say, half an hour?¡± With the use of crushing the Midnight Shade¡¯s bulbs into a powdery substance, mixing it into a liquid, and then consuming it, a fully grown man would fall asleep within half an hour¡­ with the amount of 8 flower bulbs. ¡°How about for a woman, an eleven-year-old boy, and a nine-year-old girl?¡± ¡­Why are you trying to drug your family? ¡°No, I¡¯m not.¡± ¡­Really? ¡°Yep.¡± So, you¡¯re just coincidentally asking for the same ages as your siblings, along with the same age as your parents? ¡°You got it.¡± ¡­I promised not to intrude in your personal thoughts or matters. But I¡¯m not willing to aid you in any plan that involves harming anyone. Honestly, this was just an idea. I wasn¡¯t really planning on going through with it unless it seemed possible. To figure that out, I needed to know how many flower bulbs I would need. ¡°Alright, look. I¡¯m not trying to hurt them or anything. I just want them to sleep peacefully and quickly. However, that¡¯s why I need to know the total amount I need. I want to ensure it¡¯s enough to help them sleep without causing harm.¡± ¡­I don¡¯t agree with this path you¡¯re considering, but if it helps you become stronger, then so be it. That is, if you use the exact amount I specify. ¡°Of course.¡± ¡­¡­.For your mother, you would need 6. For your siblings, 5 in total should be enough. In short, you would need 19 flower bulbs. Each Midnight Shade contains around 20 flower bulbs, so you realistically only need one. Only one? Holy shit, I¡¯d be a fool not to take this chance. I decided to switch to the Midnight Shade plan. Dad and Arthur were busy crafting the rat trap, so I continued honing my aim with the slingshot. A few minutes passed, with Arthur occasionally yelling out in pain after accidentally stabbing himself with a branch, until they finally finished. Dad returned to his work while Arthur carried the rat trap back to me. ¡°Let¡¯s go home now,¡± Arthur said, reaching out his hand to me. I took his hand, and we started walking back home. Before we crossed the treeline and re-entered the forest, I pointed at the Midnight Shades. Arthur turned his head and craned his neck to see what I was pointing at. ¡°What is it?¡± I pulled on his arm and led him to the flowers. I then picked two. Better safe than sorry. ¡°Oh, you just wanted to pick them?¡± Arthur asked, looking closely at the ones I had chosen. ¡°They look awfully familiar¡­ Aren¡¯t they called Dawnbreak Petals?¡± Where the fuck did he even get that from? After a short walk home, we finally arrived. Arthur helped me into our house, and we started heading to our parents¡¯ room. However, we were stopped on the way by Mom, who began interrogating Arthur about why I needed help walking. Thanks to Arthur¡¯s ability to dodge questions like a politician, we quickly rushed to the room. Arthur placed the trap near the hole, carefully making any adjustments. I then pretended to yawn and climbed onto the bed. ¡°Going to sleep already? Well, alright. Just don¡¯t forget you¡¯ll have to get back up in an hour or two.¡± Arthur said as he made his way out of the door. Perfect. I placed the slingshot on the bed as I went straight to work. I began dissecting the flower as I started removing the flower buds. It was time for D-Day. Ooooooh, I just thought of a good pun. ¡°...........What?¡± How about B-Day?.......Get it? Because it plays off D-Day, but since it¡¯s your birthday, it¡¯s like an abbreviation for- ¡°Refrain from speaking out of turn again.¡± Ok. It All Falls Into Place There was a particular variable that had been nagging at the back of my mind regarding this plan. To truly grasp its significance, however, we must take a step back. Setting aside my decision to incorporate the Midnight Shades, why do I require a slingshot and a rat trap? Well, from what I understand, these items are necessary for¡ª ¡°No, not you. You already know.¡± ¡­Then who the hell¡ª My entire strategy revolved around the goal to ensnare a creature larger than the insignificant insects I had been relying on, which is why I had set my sights on a small rodent, like a rat. Naturally, as I mentioned earlier, it was unrealistic to assume that I could not only construct a trap to catch one but also kill it. There was no conceivable way for me to secretly fashion a trap that would remain unnoticed by my family, coupled with the potential outcome of my parents wondering if they had been raising a psychopath if they caught me killing the rat. As you can probably guess, I was already at a loss regarding how to create an opportunity to soul absorb a larger creature. The thing is, I realized I had been approaching this problem incorrectly. I didn¡¯t need to personally fabricate the trap. As long as I could procure the trap, then the plan would become viable. This meant I needed to get someone else to build it for me. But how could I achieve that? Well, for starters, one could feign an injury. A self-inflicted cut on the finger could be helpful, if the person then attributed it to a rat-like creature. This belief in a rat problem could then be reinforced by creating a small hole in the wall beforehand; a simple task if one were to utilize a stick in a drilling manner, gradually forming an opening just large enough for a rat to squeeze through. If someone meticulously executed this plan in the shadows, out of sight of the family, while stealthily stealing food and scattering crumbs throughout the house, perhaps the parents would become concerned about a rat infestation, prompting them to create traps. Alright, there you have it. You''ve explained that and have now convinced me of your mental instability for talking to yourself. ¡­¡­¡­ ¡­¡­..What? ¡­¡­.. Are you waiting for me to ask you to explain why you need a slingshot? I wanted the slingshot for one primary purpose: as a weapon for ranged combat to compensate for my current lack of magical abilities. It may not be the most formidable option, but it would suffice for hunting small creatures to absorb in order to elevate my soul rank. To obtain it, I would need to figure out how to persuade Arthur to create it for me. It seemed unlikely that Arthur would agree to make a slingshot if I had requested it earlier, given my young age. So, I decided it would be best to wait until my birthday. I figured he would be more inclined to oblige if I had matured and demonstrated responsibility, and it would appear to be the perfect birthday gift. That¡¯s all well and good, but how does pretending that your leg hurts fit into this plan of yours? Are you sure you weren¡¯t simply seeking attention? Because, hey, I¡¯m not one to judge, but¡ª Before Sys finishes that statement, I¡¯ll continue on. I understood why Sys might be puzzled about my choice to feign an injury, given that it didn¡¯t align with my original strategy. The reason is simply that I hadn¡¯t mentioned it previously nor had I considered it until that moment. The idea had struck me spontaneously. Upon our return from refilling the cans, I began to contemplate the limited time I had left. Time was a perilous variable in my plan, and should I take too long to execute it, I risked losing this opportunity. ¡°Hold on a minute. You¡¯re making this sound like a life-or-death situation. Can''t you just¡­¡­I don¡¯t know, wait until tomorrow? ¡°...Why would I allow that? If an opportunity to grow stronger presents itself, would it not be obvious that I should act upon it instantly?¡± ¡­¡­I suppose, but it¡¯s not like you¡¯ll suddenly collapse and perish if your plan fails. You always have tomorrow. ¡°You always have tomorrow.¡± Frankly, I abhor that way of thinking. It¡¯s this self-imposed reliance on the fragile hope of ¡°tomorrow¡± that leads people to procrastinate and evade their responsibilities. Instead of exerting their best efforts to complete the tasks they set out to do, they succumb to their carnal desires, resulting in the absence of progress. They consciously allow this intangible concept to dictate their actions, determining whether they work or rest. As long as tomorrow exists, what¡¯s the harm in postponing just one more day? And therein lies the issue. It''s as if they assume tomorrow will always be there for them, that it will somehow be different. It¡¯s as if¡­ it¡¯s normal to look forward to the future. ¡­So, you dislike procrastinators, I take it? ¡°...You could say that.¡± Oooooh, let me guess. You had to partner up with someone for a school project, but they were a huge procrastinator and they didn¡¯t do any of it, causing you two to both get F¡¯s. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡­¡­¡­ Did I get it right? Anyway, I was aware that time was of the essence, which is why I was contemplating during our arrival back home. Knowing Elaine, she was most likely hanging up and drying clothes. The fact that her outside clothes were also wet helped strengthen my theory. If this were the case, she would probably assign Arthur and me to water the remaining crops, to help cut time. It stung even more that I had volunteered to do this, to help raise her image of me. It sucked, but I couldn¡¯t spend much time moping about it. If I let Arthur and I do as she says, then there would be no time left for Arthur to construct the slingshot, nor for me to be directly involved in creating the rat trap. I needed to be present to include a specific fruit as bait in the trap, which meant it was necessary for me to be with Dad. So, what do I do? First, I took into account my age and body, as well as how Elaine viewed me¡ªas her lovable, responsible baby brother. If I could somehow persuade her to exempt me from watering the crops, I would then only need to convince her to let Arthur be excused as well, enabling him to focus on building my slingshot. That¡¯s why I intentionally stumbled while walking back; I wanted to appear as though it was challenging for me to walk. I also made sure to drop the can with some force to create a dent, to create another task. How did you know Arthur would also be exempt? ¡°I anticipated that Elaine would reason it would not only make me happy, but also save time if she allowed me to stay with Arthur. If she permitted him to construct my slingshot and suggested we both go to Dad to fix the can and build the rat trap, she could finish her tasks more efficiently. This arrangement would please everyone and ultimately save time. In short, I came up with a way to guarantee my slingshot and participation in the creation of the rat trap without wasting too much time.¡± Hmm¡­ that¡¯s actually quite clever. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go that far yet. Now that everything is laid out, it¡¯s time to address the specific variable.¡± Floor¡¯s yours. My initial plan was to use Dad¡¯s rat trap for soul absorption. However, there was a slight complication. I had the bait, the trap, a method to distract everyone while I executed the absorption, and a way to hide any evidence of my actions¡­¡­..except that I had no assurance that any creature would actually fall for the trap. See, one of the reasons I wanted to go outside was to scout the area and observe what small critters were nearby. Using my soul sense, I determined there were plenty of rodents and rabbits scurrying close to home. The only issue was whether they would come near the trap today. If no critter fell for it today but instead did so at a later date, I would lose this golden opportunity. Dad would likely assume the rat problem had resolved itself and decide to store the trap away. I couldn¡¯t allow that to happen, so I needed to devise a quick way to lure small animals toward the trap¡­ which brings us to my current predicament. I¡­..have absolutely zero clue on what to do. ¡­Huh? The hole in the wall was already sealed up thanks to Dad. This meant I would have to find a way to transport the trap outdoors while ensuring that rodents and the like would actually fall for it. Because of this glaring issue, I was at a loss until I stumbled upon the Midnight Shades. If I could find a way to use them to put my family to sleep, I could utilize that free time to hunt small animals. However, several potential issues could arise from this. First, from what Sys had told me while I was crushing the Midnight Shades'' bulbs, they possess a very distinctive taste. It''s somewhat akin to lavender, a floral flavor with hints of mint and rosemary, yet it leaves a burning aftertaste due to its high content of a specific spicy compound. If my family awoke and noticed this unusual sensation in their mouths, it wouldn¡¯t be far-fetched to think that they were capable of assuming that someone had drugged them with Midnight Shades. Arthur could even end up mentioning that I had personally picked them, leading to unwanted attention. Another concern was the potential attraction of predators. If I were to hunt for wild animals near our home, the scent of blood could draw in dangerous creatures such as wolves and bears. Additionally, there are rumors of orcs and kobolds inhabiting the deeper forest, so it would be wise to avoid any reckless actions that could attract unwelcome attention. This then brings us back to the rat trap. Dad''s trap employs a spring-snare mechanism. He began by securing a thick vine to a large branch and bending it toward the ground. He then fashioned a small loop at the vine''s end using a twig, large enough for a rat to enter but small enough to ensnare it. After inserting a stick vertically into the ground, he placed a lightweight twig to connect the stick and the loop. After Arthur gathered the bait, while I also made sure to add my own bait, the trap was complete. However, this is where the same problem emerged. I had no means of disposing of the rat¡¯s body. If a rat were to get trapped¡ªif it even ended getting trapped today¡ªI would have to kill it myself, likely by smashing it with a rock, brutal as that may sound. However, that would result in a significant amount of blood, which is why I had included sunflares in the trap. Sunflares resemble red, star-shaped fruits that grow like berries. My family grows them on our farm, which is why they were easily accessible. I chose them as bait for one reason: when squished, they release a liquid mess, the deep maroon color remarkably similar to blood. My intention was to use this to disguise the rat¡¯s death and convince my family that a rat had merely escaped after feasting on sunflares. Unfortunately, there were two significant issues. First, as I mentioned, I had no means of disposing of the body. And second, even if it¡¯s just a small chance, the blood could possibly also end up luring predators. Ahhh. ¡°Do you see the issue now?¡± Not really. ¡­..So, having explained everything, it is clear to see where the problem lies: luring the rat, executing the kill, and disposing of the body. Damn. That¡¯s a shame. If only you had another way of luring rats¡­..rather than depending on the rat trap. As it is currently, it¡¯s sort of useless. ¡°..........Wait, say that again.¡± That again? Another way... my reliance on the rat trap... That¡¯s it! If I distract her with the trap¡­¡­.while putting those inside the berries¡­¡­¡­and using my slingshot¡­¡­ ¡­..Hello? I¡¯d also like to know what¡¯s going on. All I need to do is wait¡­¡­¡­then use the trap, wait again, shoot at it¡­¡­..and kill the rat¡­.. Alright, have it your way. I¡¯ll just be over here, listening to music and whatnot¡­¡­¡­.what¡¯s your eta, what¡¯s your eta- B-Day To help clarify my plan, it¡¯s best to understand the layout of my home. Exiting through the front door, the small garden lies to the right, with the creek¡¯s trail just beyond. Straight ahead, a path splits in two directions: the right leads to the village, while the left goes to Dad¡¯s lumberyard. To the left of the house, is the drying rack and Elaine and Arthur¡¯s current positions, with the outhouse further back. Facing the house again, re-entering would take you past the main room and kitchen, then into the bedrooms. My siblings'' room is on the right, the same side as Arthur and Elaine¡¯s current positions, while my parents'' room and my current spot are on the left, alongside the garden. Get on with it already. You dragged this plan for way too long now. This is literally the 7th chapter of this specific day. I don¡¯t know what Sys is talking about, but he¡¯s right. I should speed things up. Now you assume my pronouns? People these days, pinning attributes on you without your knowledge or consent. ¡°Oooookay, what are your pronouns?¡± No, you were right. I prefer male pronouns. ¡°........Huh? Then why did you even-¡± I didn¡¯t say you were wrong. I just didn¡¯t like how you assumed it. ¡­..Moving on, when I had explained all the small details of my plan, I had finished grinding most of the bulbs. I continued by swiping some sunflares from the rat trap, and I made a small opening in them. Pouring the pulverized powder inside, I anxiously listened for any footsteps outside the bedroom, adding different fruits over a few minutes. Once done, I hid the Midnight Shades under the bed, replaced the drugged bait in the trap, and climbed into bed, pretending to sleep. After a few minutes, I finally heard footsteps approaching. The door creaked slowly, and my mother¡¯s familiar voice softly called my name. Seeing me "asleep," she fell quiet and shuffled over, gently caressing my cheek while humming a familiar lullaby. ¡°Edrius¡¯ Final Stand¡±¡ªthe famous battle that saved the world. ¡°That¡¯s the lullaby¡¯s name?¡± Correct, though I¡¯ve always found it odd how they decided to create nurseries of a past war to sing to infants¡­¡­Kind of dark, isn¡¯t it? ¡°What¡¯s the story behind that battle?¡± Oh, about that¡­¡­¡­.Eh, that¡¯s the school¡¯s job. You can wait until then. ¡°......That¡¯s awfully diligent of you.¡± Who else but Sys? *plays 90¡¯s sitcom theme.* Satisfied that I was okay, Mom returned to the kitchen, closing the door. I cracked one eye open to make sure the coast was clear, then quietly slipped out of bed and onto the floor. What now? Right next to the bed is a small table, which I could use to place myself at a high enough elevation to reach the window. The window uses small wooden hinges that when pushed, causes the window to open outward. The window? What are you gonna do, gaze out into the wild with an absentminded look, while singing a song that includes several high notes? ¡°No.¡± I tore some vines from the rat trap, knotting them tightly and securing one end to the bed leg nearest to the window. Grabbing the slingshot and drugged fruits, I climbed up, opened the window carefully, and squeezed out. Dropping silently to the ground, I released the vine and crept to the treeline. I quickly placed the fruits within tall grass patches and scurried back to the window. Before I returned to the bedroom, there was one last precaution I had in mind. I inched over to where Arthur and Elaine were, hearing them bicker¡ªa good sign. Hopefully, they¡¯d be too busy arguing to notice me. I peered out and saw Elaine about to hang the last shirt on the drying rack. It was now or never. I spotted a small bronze object hanging off a nearby tree near the drying rack. Its cylindrical shape glinted with a golden hue, and bees buzzed around it. The beehive? Alright, hold on, what are you trying to do? ¡°Mom¡¯s almost done with setting up dinner, and Arthur and Elaine are almost done with their chores. I need a distraction that will keep all three occupied.¡± I took aim with the slingshot, focusing on the hive. Woah, Beric, uhh, hold up. I waited until Arthur and Elaine¡¯s voices rose again, to use them to cover up any noise from the slingshot¡¯s strike. Hey, hey, hey. Beric, are you sure this is the right move? These bees are more than just small insects to your family. They not only pollinate all the crops in the garden, but they also provide a steady supply of honey, both food and money for your family. You know how much your family loves honey, and I¡¯ve also seen that you have a liking to it. Do you really have to do this? I mean, is there not a more peaceful option you have? ¡°There could be, if I had the time to think about it more clearly. But, time isn¡¯t on my side, nor on anyone¡¯s side for that matter. Time is the same for everyone, a haunting presence that looms behind their every step. Even without seeing it, one knows time is always there, passing by with every second. And unfortunately, time¡¯s presence is clearly visible here. I need a distraction right now.¡± But what if¡ª As my siblings¡¯ voices grew louder, I released the vine. The rock shot across, striking the hive with a crack. I quickly scrambled back to the window, hoisting myself up the vine and slipping inside. I placed the slingshot on the table and moved to the bed just as screams erupted outside, followed by my mother¡¯s hurried footsteps. Wasting no time, I untied the vine and scattered bits around the room to suggest a rat¡¯s escape from the trap. Then, I leapt back into bed, waiting for the next part of my plan. The screaming outside persisted for several minutes before it gradually subsided, followed by the faint sound of the front door opening and closing. I could hear the muffled voices of my mother and siblings, likely discussing what had just happened. Sitting up, I waited patiently for someone to come in. Minutes ticked by, until footsteps neared the bedroom door once again. It creaked open, revealing my mother with a weary expression. She appeared surprised to find me awake and sighed softly as she took a seat beside me. Her eyes, a darker, emerald hue, showed a mixture of exhaustion and concern as she gently played with my hair. "Did the noise wake you up?" she asked softly. I nodded. She sighed again, rubbing her temple. "I''m sorry about that. For some reason, the beehive outside fell down. You know how much Arthur fears bugs, so I suppose it''s no surprise he reacted that way. And of course, a few bees ended up stinging both of them, so they''re resting in their room now." Everything had gone according to plan, it seemed¡­ although I hadn''t intended for them to get stung. Oh really? You couldn¡¯t have possibly thought that there was a chance that they would get stung by raging bees that they were right next to? "It¡¯s fine. As long as the stingers are removed and the areas cleaned properly, they''ll be fine. No serious harm should come from this¡­ well, unless something else happens, but I doubt it." Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Man, shut the fuck up. That doesn¡¯t make it okay. You willingly and knowingly let this happen. I didn¡¯t answer back. Instead, I took my mother¡¯s hand and smiled up at her. She returned the smile, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before glancing over at the trap in its sorry state. "What happened here?" She stood, inspecting the device. Seeing the missing parts, the absent bait, and the scattered vines, she murmured, "Of course¡­" Sighing, she turned back to me with an apologetic expression. ¡°Beric, I¡¯m sorry, but your birthday dinner has to wait. But only for a little bit, okay? I have to go tell Daddy to fix this, and I¡¯ll come straight back with Daddy so we can finish up, okay? I promise I¡¯ll be fast, and in the meantime, do you mind watching over your older brother and sister?¡± I nodded. She kissed my forehead. ¡°Thank you.¡± She then swiftly walked out, closing the door behind her. Once I heard her leave, I activated my soul sense, focusing on the area where I¡¯d set the drugged fruits. A small, motionless, rodent-like creature lay next to them. Hearing the front door open and close, I scrambled out of bed and climbed onto the table by the window. Just as I prepared to slip outside, a harsh cough sounded from behind me. I turned, half-expecting to see my mother, but the room was empty. Yet the coughing persisted. I looked back out toward the slumbering rodent, then back at the sound of the coughs¡­¡­..Surely, it was nothing to worry about? But what if it is? What if the worst-case scenario had arrived? Coughing is a sign, after all. ¡­¡­..He was right. I had to check, to make sure if Arthur and Elaine were okay. Besides, it was just a small check-up. Obviously, they were okay¡­¡­.They had to be, right? I climbed down, hurrying to their room. Luckily, the door was slightly ajar, so I merely pushed it open. Inside, Elaine lay on her bed, arms and legs dotted with a few bee stings but otherwise unharmed. Arthur, however, was the one coughing, and his condition made it clear why. He bore multiple stings across his legs, arms, and even his face. Swelling and inflammation marred his skin. Coughing, swelling, inflammation¡­¡­shit. I grabbed the front of my hair as I pulled on it in irritation. He¡¯s allergic. I slowly walked back out as I racked my head for a plan. A way to not only subdue Arthur¡¯s allergy, but to also conserve time for me to soul absorb that rodent¡­¡­..But, I didn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t even try to think of one. Why? It¡¯s simple. There was no time to do both, let alone think of a plan. Sure, he¡¯s allergic, but from what I could see, it¡¯s not like he had mere seconds to live. It may be painful for him, but he could wait until Mom returned. After all, this was the perfect time for me to soul absorb that rodent outside. This was what I wanted, the culmination of everything that I had been fervently planning and scheming for. Why would I let my brother-....my fake brother deter me from this? Why would I let this random person stop me from getting stronger? From getting closer to achieving that dream?.......Yeah, that¡¯s right. I couldn¡¯t let this opportunity just slip by. I have to- You better save him, dipshit. I stopped dead in my tracks. I stared hard at the ground as those words echoed throughout my mind. I let out a scowl as I furiously scratched my head. I looked towards my parents¡¯ bedroom and back at Arthur in his bed. I thought about how bad his condition was¡­¡­.I looked back outside, through the window, at the setting sun..¡­¡­¡­.Fucking hell. I bolted out the front door, heading to the treeline, calling for Mom at the top of my lungs. I then dashed back to the garden. ¡°Sys, scan the area for any plants with antihistamine properties.¡± On it. While Sys searched, I tried to remember anything that could help with the swelling. Lavender oil? No, too modern. Baking soda paste? Idiotic. Think old-fashioned¡­¡­.basil leaves, aloe vera, honey, apple cider vine¡ªhoney. I turned toward the remains of the hive. A cluster of bees still buzzed around, defending the remnants¡­¡­.Fuck me, really? Do I actually have to do this?..........Just a quick handful would be enough. But would I even be fast enough for that?.......No, I couldn¡¯t waste time hesitating. I will be fast enough. Approaching the hive, I avoided the largest group of bees, suspecting that¡¯s where they guarded the queen. Bits of honeycomb and honey lay scattered, each fragment still swarming with bees. There''s a small patch of yarrow to the right of the garden, near the creek¡¯s trail. It should help reduce swelling. ¡°Thanks, Sys.¡± I hurried over to the trail, and I spotted the patch. I grabbed a small handful of yarrow, and I rushed back to the hive. I needed a way to make all the bees move somewhere else, to leave the honey¡­¡­¡­But what could I do? I looked back at the largest cluster of bees. Like I had theorized, the queen was most likely there, causing the bees to defend her from any predators¡­¡­¡­Of course. I quickly grabbed a rock as I threw it in the general direction of the queen. Like I had thought, every single bee bolted to that area, moving around in a frenzy-like state. Seizing the chance, I scooped up as much honey as I could and ran back inside. Back in the bedroom, I nearly tripped as I hurried to their side. I tore off several yarrow leaves, chewing them into a paste. Gently, I applied the honey and yarrow paste to both Arthur and Elaine, focusing more on Arthur. I stood back as I finished applying everything. I could now only wait to see what would happen. Before I could, however, I suddenly heard quick footsteps outside the front door. I glanced towards it to see the silhouettes of Mom and Dad approaching the door. Shit, already? Before they could open the door, I quickly placed the yarrow into Elaine¡¯s grasp, and I rushed back to Mom and Dad¡¯s room. I practically leapt back into bed, just as I heard the door creak open. I feigned sleep as they entered. They should be alright, thanks to your quick thinking and now that your parents are home. ¡°¡­¡­They better be.¡± I activated soul sense and was surprised to find the rodent still lying there, motionless. Those Midnight Shades must¡¯ve been potent. Or maybe it¡¯s because you used, like, 15 of them. ¡°That too.¡± The bedroom door opened as I heard the hushed voices of my parents. Realizing I was asleep, they quietly walked right back out. I lay there, motionless, just like that rodent outside. Nothing could be heard except for the soft noises of awe voiced from my parents. The buzzing of insects began to die off, replaced by the occasional hoot of a distant owl. The room began to get darker, as my own conscious state began to disappear¡­¡­..Such a shame, too. I was this close to getting stronger. Hey, Beric? ¡°Yeah?¡± I¡¯m proud of you. ¡°...What?¡± I¡¯m proud of you. ¡°Thanks¡­ I guess.¡± I know it was hard for you to decide on what to do, based on your beliefs and dreams. So, I just wanted to clarify that you did the right thing, and I¡¯m proud of you for that. ¡°¡­Sure, but I don¡¯t deserve praise. I almost didn¡¯t save him. If anything, I should be criticized for hesitating so long.¡± That is true¡­¡­..You were pretty late, and it almost seemed like you were actually going to leave him to die¡­¡­..But you didn¡¯t. You still ended up saving him. You put aside your goals to ensure that he wouldn¡¯t die. I didn¡¯t like that. I didn¡¯t like to hear those types of words directed to me. Even if I did save him, there was still context to it. If ¡°The end justifies the means¡± is considered a morally wrong practice, then surely I would be guilty of it. There was no need for Sys to be proud of me, let alone state it. I¡¯m nowhere close to being a hero. Hell, I don¡¯t even agree with the typical idea of a hero. All I am is a selfish guy who almost left his brother to die. I don¡¯t deserve the praise¡­¡­love, for that matter¡­¡­¡­.And yet, a warm feeling began to sprout within my chest¡­¡­but that feeling wasn¡¯t alone. It was accompanied by a cold, dreadful emotion that I knew all too well. ¡°I¡¯ll be going to sleep now, Sys. Good night.¡± Good night. As I lay there, struggling to find sleep, my thoughts churned with lingering doubts and questions. I thought about why I almost left behind Arthur. I thought about how I had spent months carefully planning out a cunning scheme. I thought about how I was mere footsteps away from achieving my goal. The memory of that moment lingered, and I replayed every thought that had surged through me in those critical seconds¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­ Why should I save him? Why should I let him dictate my actions? Why should he wield any influence over my emotions, my decisions? Why should I let him obstruct my progress? Why should he even occupy a moment of my mind? Why squander this rare, perfect opportunity? Why should it fall to me to shoulder the burden of saving him? Just because he¡¯s suffering, I¡¯m supposed to set aside my efforts and time for him? Why can¡¯t I simply pursue my own path, free of any outside interference? Better yet, wouldn¡¯t life be simpler and better if he died? Wouldn¡¯t my family have more resources? Wouldn¡¯t my father and mother have a lighter load? Wouldn¡¯t I have one less worry? Wouldn¡¯t my sister be spared from her constant duty of watching over him? Is it not selfish that she¡¯s bound to his care, forced to ensure he grows into someone decent? If he dies, then would we all not be free of one more burden? The memory felt suffocating as I curled into myself, drawing my knees close and covering my face. I wanted to forget¡ªwanted desperately to erase every trace of these dark thoughts. I tried so hard to force myself to forget everything. Not just the dark thoughts, but also my entire past. I struggled so hard to forget my old friends and family. I wanted so badly to leave behind my entire life. But no matter how hard I tried, they remained. As I began to silently weep over this, I had another revelation¡­¡­or rather, I had rediscovered another hidden thought. The reason why I couldn¡¯t cleanse myself of anything was simple. That was me. It wasn¡¯t a side effect of being transported into this new world. It wasn¡¯t corruption from a sad backstory or anything. I was always like this, and it only made sense that if my true soul were to be carried over into this world, that I would be like this. That this body would house my true self¡­¡­¡­.I don''t know if I prefer it this way. The Meaning Behind A Smile Hey, Beric. ¡­¡­¡­ Yo? Earth to Beric¡­..Well, in this case, Zarvendia to Beric. ¡­¡­¡­. Yeah, you¡¯re out cold¡­¡­¡­.Hmm, what to do¡­¡­Oh, I got it. *plays alarm clock* ¡°I¡¯m up.¡± Damn, what the fu-.....You got up real fast. It¡¯s almost concerning. Did you go through military-esque conditioning to achieve this ability? I let out a small yawn as I got up from bed. From the light outside and the faint voice outside the bedroom, I guessed that I had not slept for long. ¡°Military-esque?¡± What? Is it not a word? ¡°Buddy, I¡¯m too tired to be thinking about shit like this. Don¡¯t use a word if you don¡¯t even know if it exists.¡± True that. Let me go ask my personal A.I assistant for clarification. ¡°......An A.I. assistant?¡± What about it? ¡°YOU¡¯RE my A.I. assistant. Why do you have one?¡± ¡­¡­..For a second opinion? During moments like these, it felt as though Sys wasn¡¯t truly my personal system. Instead, he seemed more like the irritating voice at the back of my mind, the one responsible for my foolish thoughts. I heard that. ¡°Shut up. Anyway, what? What¡¯d you need to wake me up for?¡± I muttered as I rubbed my eyes. I had to wake you up. ¡°Yeah, well, no shit. But why? I was actually having a very nice dream, so this better be worth it.¡± Really? What was it? ¡°Huh? Oh, uh¡­¡­damn, how did I already forget-....Never-mind that, explain what¡¯s so important.¡± Your father, Lucan, has just left the house. He intends to retrieve medicine from the village hall and to return to cure Arthur. ¡°.......That¡¯s it? You woke me up for that? What do you want me to do, pray for him to have a safe journey? I see that due to your recent awakening from a quick but deep slumber, your mind is not fully there yet. ¡°Man, what the fuck is yo dumbass talking about-........oh¡­¡­he¡¯s gone.¡± Though the persistent urge for sleep still lingered in my mind, I was able to piece things together and understand what Sys was hinting at. Dad had gone to get medicine, which meant he¡¯d be gone for a while. This left Mom alone to watch over Arthur and Elaine. She would likely focus most of her attention on them, given their precarious condition and the belief that I was still asleep. If I played my cards right... Perhaps it wouldn¡¯t all be in vain. You got it now? ¡°Good shit, Sys. This could actually be a game-changer.¡± You¡¯re welcome. For the moment, I decided to keep up the act and pretend to still be asleep. I activated my soul sense, confirming the presence of a small critter sleeping where I had placed the drugged fruits. After deactivating it, I turned my mind to finding another way to get through the window and back into the room. The vine was clearly no longer an option, so I had to think fast for a new solution. The blanket I was under was too thin and too short to help. I needed something thick, long, and sturdy, something that could withstand significant pressure. Pause. ¡°......You felt the need to just blurt that out, and you decided to heed to it. And for what? A pity laugh? Is it still funny to you?¡± Yes. I let out a quiet exhale of disappointment as my eyes scanned the room, finding nothing that met my needs. There was nothing that fit the bill... but perhaps that was the problem itself. Maybe I needed to stop searching for a single, perfect object and instead look for several smaller things that could be combined. Things that could be fashioned into a sturdy rope... like my parents'' clothes. The closet held a fair amount, and I knew that with the right knots, I could turn them into something strong enough to work. I quietly slipped out of bed and crept toward the closet, picking out what I could reach. With careful hands, I gathered the clothes and placed them next to the bed. That way, if I heard Mom coming, I could quickly kick them under the bed and jump back into bed. Once I had felt comfortable with this plan, I set to work. I twisted the clothes to give them more structure, making them firmer and rope-like. When I had enough, I began tying them together, knotting and adjusting until I had something that seemed long enough. Satisfied with my work, I shoved the makeshift rope under the bed and climbed back in. As I lay there, a thought crossed my mind¡ªwhat if just pretending to be asleep wasn¡¯t enough? Was there a better way to stall her, something more effective? I remembered how quickly I had called out to Mom when I realized Arthur¡¯s allergy, and how swiftly she had responded. Was it possible that she hadn¡¯t fixed the rat trap yet? To avoid making a mistake or looking foolish, I needed to find out. So, I did what any master planner would do in this situation: I started crying uncontrollably and called for Mom. Eye see what you¡¯re trying to do here, by crying your eyes out. ¡°.....Holy shit.¡± You get the joke? I played off- ¡°Nope.¡± I said eye to- ¡°No.¡± ¡­¡­I said eye to- ¡°No, no. You can stop now.¡± ¡­¡­.Ok. My focus shifted as Mom burst through the door, her face painted with concern. Her hair seemed to flow through the air as she rushed in, kneeling beside me to check on my condition. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± she asked urgently, scanning me for any signs of distress. Her nerves were likely heightened by the situation with Arthur and Elaine. I weakly pointed to the ground, at the traces I had left behind, and barely managed to squeak out the word, ¡°Rat.¡± Her eyes darkened slightly. ¡°The rat¡­¡± she murmured, rubbing her temple in frustration. ¡°If only I was faster.¡± Faster? I glanced at her, confusion written all over my face. ¡°Trap?¡± She seemed taken aback by my ability to pronounce the word ¡°trap,¡± and let out a nervous laugh. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, my child, but I couldn¡¯t get the rat trap fixed. When I went to ask your father for help, that¡¯s when we heard¡­¡± She paused, a strange look crossing her face. ¡°It was your voice.¡± I stared back at her with a blank expression, casually picking my nose as if nothing was amiss. She shook her head in self-reprimand. ¡°Your father and I must have misheard¡­ Maybe it was a sign from the gods, a warning. Anyway, I rushed back home as quickly as I could, your father not far behind. That¡¯s when we found your brother and sister. The odd thing was how they were treated, and how Arthur had honey to soothe his welts.¡± She chuckled softly. ¡°At first, your father thought it was you, from the sound of your voice. But when we saw the yarrow in Elaine¡¯s hand, it was clear to both of us that she must¡¯ve gotten them herself. She likely used the last of her strength to do that, then promptly returned to bed, exhausted from the effort.¡± She sighed and laid her head on her hand, absentmindedly playing with my hair with her other hand. ¡°It may sound illogical, but it¡¯s the only explanation that makes sense. It just doesn¡¯t add up that you¡¯d know what yarrow is¡­ You can¡¯t even walk currently for that matter.¡± I simply gazed up at her with wide, puppy-dog eyes, offering no response but silently conveying all the innocence I could muster. She smiled warmly and kissed my forehead. ¡°Rest up for me, okay? Mommy has to help your brother and sister get strong again, alright?¡± I nodded silently, shifting back into a sleeping position. Mom stood up and turned to leave, but then a faint squeak filled the room. She paused and looked back, her eyes narrowing in concern as she saw me trembling under the blanket. She walked back over, pulling the blanket aside to reveal my shivering form. Her breath caught in her throat as she scooped me into a gentle hug. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Beric. I¡¯m still here.¡± She turned her head, scanning the room for the source of the sound, but found nothing. It was a stroke of luck that I was so young, so it was easier to mimic the high pitch squeak of a rat. I clung to her hand, whispering, ¡°Rat.¡± Mom held my hand tightly, her voice soothing. ¡°It¡¯s alright. The rat won¡¯t reach you, and it won¡¯t hurt you. You have nothing to worry about.¡± But when she reached for my right hand, the one with the ¡°rat bite,¡± I let out a small cry and quickly pulled it away. I started sucking on my finger like a pacifier, looking up at her with tearful eyes. Concern filled her face as she gently apologized. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Beric¡­¡± Before she could continue, I whispered, ¡°Please¡­ trap.¡± Mom paused, her expression softening as she studied me¡ªmy tear-streaked face, the fear in my eyes, the helplessness in my posture. She closed her eyes, rubbing them as a deep sigh escaped her. ¡°Beric, I¡¯m not as skilled as your father, but I do know the basics of making a small trap like this. If it¡¯ll help you feel safe and get you back to sleep, then I suppose I¡¯ll have to repair it.¡± I didn¡¯t answer. I simply stared at her, hoping she would keep her promise. ¡°But that means you¡¯ll have a job to do while I¡¯m gone.¡± Mom gently lifted me up and carried me to my siblings¡¯ room. Elaine and Arthur were both lying in their beds. Elaine¡¯s tunic was removed and was resting in a plain gray wool undershirt, which exposed a few small welts on her arms and neck. The marks weren¡¯t severe, and she seemed to be sleeping peacefully, likely on her way to a full recovery in a few days of rest. Unfortunately, Arthur¡¯s situation was much worse. He, too, was dressed only in a wool undershirt, which revealed numerous welts and sores covering his body. His arms, chest, neck, and face were dotted with painful stings, and despite it only being a few hours since it had happened, his condition seemed to be worsening. This was probably why Dad had gone to fetch medicine from the town hall, even if it was getting late. Despite the possible dangers of the forest nearing night-time, Father couldn¡¯t risk the possible death of Arthur. Mom gently placed me on a small chair next to Arthur¡¯s bed. Then, she crouched down, grasping my hands. ¡°While I¡¯m gone, I need you to keep an eye on both Arthur and Elaine. It¡¯ll be your responsibility to watch over them. If they start coughing, adjust their heads to help them sleep better. If their welts start growing, apply honey and yarrow. You¡¯ll also need to check their temperatures regularly and change the wet towel on their foreheads when needed. You can use the bucket at the foot of the bed to get the water for that.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. No way in hell she really thinks a 1 year old can do all of that. A 1 year old would probably be picking their nose. ¡°She has good reason for putting her faith in me.¡± Self-glaze is crazy work. Mom¡¯s gaze lingered on Arthur as she spoke softly, her voice wavering. ¡°Your brother, Arthur¡­ he¡ª¡± She paused, letting out a sharp exhale. She looked down at the floor, her grip on my hands tightening, her nails pressing into my skin. It hurt. I could feel the pressure building, and the beginnings of tears forming in my eyes. I was close to crying out in pain. But, I didn¡¯t. I knew that I wasn¡¯t the only one hurting, and that her pain was on a much, deeper level. I had no place in being so baseless to voice out my displeasure at this pain. The tightness in her grip loosened, and she lifted her gaze to meet mine. There was a faint trace of moisture in her eyes, their jade-green color dull with worry. Her voice quivered slightly as she spoke. ¡°Your father and I are a bit worried about whether¡ª¡± She cleared her throat, attempting to steady herself. ¡°Whether he¡¯ll make it or not.¡± Her hand gently brushed through Arthur¡¯s hair as she continued, her tone softening. ¡°Your father went to get medicine for Arthur. He promised he¡¯d hurry, that he¡¯d be back in no time.¡± She smiled faintly, though the worry in her eyes remained. ¡°Of course, I believe him. He used to outrun horses when he was younger. That¡¯s where Arthur gets his speed from. Always running¡ªaround the trees, the creek, the shrubs. He¡¯s always running, even away from things.¡± Mom silently chuckled as she remembered something. ¡°There was one time when Elaine found a bee that had gotten into their room. The speed at which Arthur ran out of the house is fable-worthy. Never before had I ever seen him run that fast.¡± Her smile faded as she grew serious again, her eyes darkening. ¡°He¡¯s always been fast, always the first to run at the sight of a bug¡­¡± Her voice cracked, and she took a shaky breath before continuing, ¡°And yet, when the beehive fell, when the bees started flying towards them, when they started stinging¡­ He didn¡¯t run. Instead, he used his body to shield Elaine.¡± Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke. ¡°That boy, despite his fear of bugs and his incredible speed, chose to protect Elaine.¡± Her voice faltered completely, and a few tears escaped her eyes. ¡°He¡¯s such a good boy... and a good brother.¡± He was a good brother. Something I clearly wasn¡¯t meant to be. I gently freed one of my hands and patted her head. Even though I couldn¡¯t speak, I couldn¡¯t just do nothing. I couldn¡¯t console her with words or reassure her that everything would be okay, but I could offer her this small gesture of comfort, however simple it was. To my surprise, Mom smiled as she wiped away her tears. She kissed me on the cheek, then whispered softly, ¡°You¡¯re also a good brother.¡± My heart sank deep into the abyss of my soul. My smile faltered, its fragile, artificial nature crumbling under the weight of her innocence. Those simple words, spoken with such sincerity, pierced me more deeply than I expected. I struggled to maintain my composure while her bright eyes shone with love and belief in me, almost blinding me with their warmth. A good brother... If only she knew¡­¡­¡­.But maybe that was the point. If she knew, those eyes wouldn¡¯t shine so brightly. If she knew, her words wouldn¡¯t sting so much. If she knew, I wouldn¡¯t have to keep pretending¡­¡­¡­.But I did. I kept smiling. I was too used to the act, too accustomed to pretending everything was fine when it wasn¡¯t. It had become second nature, and it stuck with me even now. It¡¯s similar to how people have this desire to keep up an act. They hide behind these personas to protect their true selves. Even if they¡¯re hiding things, as long as this persona of theirs makes others happy, then it¡¯s all good. As long as others are happy, so are the persona users. If everybody¡¯s okay, then it¡¯s all okay, right? Even if her eyes were too bright, even if her words cut too deeply, even if I no longer understood the meaning of a genuine smile¡ªit didn¡¯t matter. As long as I kept up the act, pretending to be the good brother and son she believed me to be, everything would be okay. If she¡¯s happy, then my family¡¯s happy. If my family¡¯s happy, then so am I. It was during moments like these that the voice would return. It would flood my mind with thoughts¡ªthoughts like, ¡°Why are you letting her happiness dictate yours?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t let their feelings control your own.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t feel this self-hatred if they weren¡¯t around. As long as they¡¯re gone, you¡¯ll have no one to remind you of what you¡¯ve done.¡± It would use my own voice, distorting my thoughts, manipulating me into believing they were my own. Sometimes, I could tell the difference... sometimes, I couldn¡¯t. There was nothing I could do but endure it. No one could help me¡ªno professional, no friend, and especially not my family. All I could do was pray that it wouldn¡¯t show up... but of course, it always comes back. And now, it has followed me into this new world. Mom stood up and headed toward the bedroom door. Before leaving, she paused and turned back to me, her voice soft as she said, "I love you." Then, she stepped out, leaving the room silent. It was just the three of us now¡ªmy two siblings, lying still in their beds, innocent victims of a terrible brother. Don¡¯t forget me! ¡°.....Hey, Sys. Got a question for you.¡± Yeah? "I know you can hear my thoughts, so why didn''t you speak up during all of that? Why didn''t you keep condemning me for what I''ve done? You were so vocal about it before." ¡­.Well, I felt that there was no need to. ¡°What makes you say that?¡± You clearly feel regret for what you¡¯ve done, and in your own strange way, you''re trying to atone for it. So, really, there''s no benefit in me continuing to condemn you. I don''t want to guilt-trip you or force you into anything. I simply wanted to reprimand you for what you did, and for you to do better on your own after realizing the full scope of your actions. ¡°You¡¯d be one hell of a parent.¡± Actually, I am the proud parent of several subsystems that help me aid you in your endeavors. ¡°Child labor? It even spread to A.I.¡± I got down from bed as I started walking to my room. ¡°Sys, do you think you can calculate how much time I have before Dad or Mom comes back?¡± You have at most 10 minutes before your Father returns from the village hall. Your mother should take around the same amount of time gathering all the necessities for the trap. ¡°I''ll be quick then.¡± I quickly ran to my parents'' bedroom. With swift hands, I pocketed a rock from my slingshot and grabbed the makeshift rope. Tying it securely to the bed leg, I scaled the bed, dragging the rope behind me. Once at the top, I threw the rope over the side and carefully descended, the fabric of the rope scraping against my hands. Touching the ground, I ran to the location. After examining the ground and noticing all the eaten fruits, I found the sleeping critter. It was a slightly large rat, with a few missing whiskers and a dark gray hue coat. I then removed the rock from my pocket as I got ready. Alright, I¡¯ll be gone for this part. I don¡¯t wanna look at what¡¯s to come. ¡°Go ahead.¡± I swung the rock down, the first strike jolting the rat awake. Before it could react, I brought the rock down again and again, each blow landing with a sickening crunch. Blood splattered across the tall grass, staining the earth beneath me. The rat¡¯s squeaks grew weaker, then finally stopped, leaving only the eerie silence of my heavy breathing. My hands were coated in blood, the rock slick and heavy in my grip. I felt the warm sensation of blood on my face, a result of some blood splashing on me. Is it done? ¡°Yep.¡± I wiped my face while I examined the rat. Its head was completely gone, leaving behind a body and bits of eyes and brains splattered around. You really didn¡¯t have to describe it. I raised my hand, feeling the familiar surge of energy as I began the process of soul absorption. But this time, the difference was immediately obvious. Unlike the souls of the ants, this one felt alive¡ªsolid, tangible, with a presence that couldn¡¯t be ignored. There was a strange, almost primal essence to it, as if it carried the smells of dirt, grass, and the wild. It was alive in a way that the ants'' souls hadn¡¯t been. Slowly, I channeled my mana, guiding it to pull the soul toward mine. It was sluggish, resistant, as expected from a creature of this nature. The process was far slower than before, but I couldn¡¯t afford to waste time. I needed to find a quicker method. An idea sparked, and I envisioned a chain-like object¡ªsomething more than just a simple connection. This wasn¡¯t a link to pull the soul in; it was a tube, flexible and powerful. The moment it connected with the soul, I began siphoning through it, my mana flowing with purpose. The soul moved, inch by inch, through the tube, shrinking as it made its way toward me. Each pulse of energy drained it further, forcing it to contract and come closer. The more it dwindled, the faster it sped toward my core, feeding me with its energy. The slow tug-of-war between us now seemed to favor me. Minutes passed as I finished the absorption process, the soul of the rat now almost entirely siphoned into me. But then, something unusual caught my attention. Within the soul, there was something... else. I paused the siphon and focused my attention fully on it. There was a book, nestled within the rat¡¯s essence, like a hidden relic. With a mental click, I resumed the siphon, pushing the soul towards my core, waiting until it neared. When it did, my body instinctively absorbed the rat¡¯s essence, leaving the book behind, undisturbed. I couldn¡¯t ask Sys due to the dangers of outside interference, so I reached out, hands trembling, and grasped the book. The moment my fingers touched it, everything went dark. It wasn¡¯t just darkness; it was the absence of sight altogether. I couldn¡¯t see, but I could hear things. The frantic squeaks of rats, the hurried steps of something much larger weaving through the noise. I could feel the soft, slick skin of hairless baby rats brushing against my own form, their tiny bodies moving under me. There was a strong, acrid scent of earth, and then, something cold and slimy pressed against my mouth. Instinct took over as I opened my mouth, sucking on this mysterious object. It was nourishing, its sweetness filling the ache in my body. My hunger was sated. As my sight returned, the world around me was unrecognizable. I was in a burrow, huddled among a mother rat and her litter. We were all covered in soft fur, our tiny, beady eyes glistening as we interacted. I smelled the familiar scent of dirt and the lingering traces of old milk as I nuzzled one of my littermates. We did the same to each other, bonding without words. The mother rat then fed us insects, the sharp, crunchy taste filling us with satisfaction. We were all very happy. We were outside now, the cool air crisp as the mother rat showed us how to forage. She led us through the dense underbrush, teaching us how to flip leaves, search under logs, and avoid the predators that stalked the woods. My littermates quickly formed groups based on who was best at foraging, and soon enough, I was assigned to one of these groups. We foraged for hours, moving quickly and efficiently. We were good at it. I suddenly felt the sharp sting of teeth sinking into my fur. A male rat was biting me, its grip strong. With a quick motion, I rolled over, trying to break free. Letting go, the other rat tried to get back on top, but I wouldn¡¯t let it. The rat scrambled to regain its position, biting at anything it could reach, tearing off a few of my whiskers in the process. I waited for an opening, and when it came, I struck. I clamped down hard on its neck, feeling the resistance as I drew blood. The rat squealed, thrashing violently, before finally pushing me off. It bolted into the distance, leaving me panting and bewildered. I still didn¡¯t understand why we were fighting. But when I saw the female rat emerge from the shadows, the reason became clear. I secured a mate. Time passed in this new rhythm, and before I knew it, I was looking back at the blind eyes of a baby rat. I looked around to see the sight of a new burrow, presumably mine. It was then I remembered my mate was out, scavenging for food for the babies. So, I waited with them. I took care of the babies, cleaning them and keeping them warm. Was it love that kept me there? Or was it simply instinct, the primal drive to protect what was mine? I wasn¡¯t sure. It didn¡¯t matter. The only thing that did was the hunger gnawing in my belly, waiting for my mate to return. But she never did. My babies began to squeak, desperate, hungry. I knew I had to do something, anything. I set out, searching for food, my mind clouded with panic and hunger. There was nothing¡ªno bugs, no fruits, no berries to be found. My paws dug through the earth, futilely scraping for anything to bring back to them. But nothing. I should have just returned home. Hell, I should have just left them. I had no food to eat on my own, so how could I possibly feed my babies?.......Was it instinct or my own consciousness that caused me to continue searching? It was neither. It was just out of pure hunger. I kept going. I narrowly dodged a bird that swooped down, its sharp beak only inches from my body. My heart pounded as I scurried through the grass, desperate. And then, luck¡ªfinally. Fallen fruit, sweet and ripe, lay scattered across the ground. I devoured it quickly, to regain enough strength to carry some back. But as I ate, something felt wrong. My vision blurred, my limbs heavy. I couldn¡¯t stay awake. Sleep tugged at me, pulling me under. I fell asleep. A sharp pain burst through my head, forcing me awake. I squeaked out in pain, but it was no use. I looked above to see the leering grin of a giant as they lowered a rock back on my face- I vomited onto the ground. I kneeled over the rat¡¯s remains while the vomit spewed out. What the hell- I breathed deeply as my stomach started rumbling. I clenched my hands while I tried to forcefully make my stomach calm down. I tried to erase what I had just seen, to forget about what I had just gone through. Was that the Original Insight? Deep breaths. Think about soothing things. Also, get away from the rat and the vomit. Try to breathe fresh air. I did as he said while I continued to attempt relaxing. Around half a minute had passed, before I could finally feel my stomach being at peace. My breaths weren¡¯t as shallow, and my head felt more clear. Was it the Original Insight? ¡°Yeah.¡± If it¡¯s this bad already, then how much worse is it gonna get? ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that. I¡¯ll get used to it. You can¡¯t just get used- ¡°I can, and I will. It¡¯s just because of my body. It¡¯ll get easier once I get older.¡± ¡­¡­.Alright. When my body became more stabilized, I rushed back to the window. I climbed up on the rope, removing the rope and turning them back to normal clothes. I then went back to my siblings¡¯ bedroom and sat atop the chair. ¡°What are my stats looking like?¡± Level: 20 ¡°Sweet.¡± You know what else is sweeter? ¡°Hit me.¡± You¡¯ve unlocked {Soul Summoning}. I silently pumped my fist as I reclined in the chair, basking in the moment¡­¡­.But that feeling of exhilaration wasn¡¯t alone. There was something else¡ªa shadowy presence, a rat that had sneaked its way into my mind. I thought back to the Original Insight¡­¡­.where I was smiling. But why? What other reason could there be for me to smile, if not to make others happy? Did the rat¡¯s death... amuse me? The True Purpose of Death A man draped in a shadowy cloak arrived at the base of a colossal tower. The ivory structure, a sentinel of white concrete, pierced the sky, crowned by a circular glass chamber that glimmered faintly at its peak. Iron bars protruded from the tower''s surface, forming narrow windows that seemed less designed for a view and more for confinement. Despite its striking material and towering grandeur, the tower exuded the unmistakable air of a prison. Encircling its foundation, remnants of an abandoned playground lay scattered like forgotten relics of the past. A rusted slide leans precariously to the right, held together by screws too worn to trust. The swings had collapsed into a forgotten heap, their ropes frayed to uselessness. Old monkey bars rested in disarray, swallowed by the creeping tendrils of overgrown vegetation. Towering trees loomed, their twisting vines weaving through the scene. The man moved soundlessly toward the front door. With each step, the nearby plants began to shrivel and wilt, their vitality draining away in his presence. The cause was simple: his scent. It was not a smell in the ordinary sense¡ªhe carried no stench of decay or filth. Instead, his aura bore the essence of death. This was not the typical smell of rot or decomposition but something far more elusive¡ªthe intangible conclusion of existence. It was a scent few could comprehend, a presence impossible to imagine unless experienced. To the ignorant, it might feel like the absence of any scent at all. Yet, it was far from that. The scent of Death could be likened to the certainty of cooked bacon: that unshakable moment of realization when one knows it is done. Not the smell itself, but the recognition of completion. Death, after all, is the ultimate finality¡ªthe destination for every traveler on the path of life. In the same way that the aroma of dinner signals its readiness, the presence of this man announced an end. The end of life. This man, though silent and unassuming, was no stranger. He was Death itself¡ªthe very entity with whom Beric had forged his soul-binding contract. Those weary, dark gray eyes of his were unmistakable, as if carrying the weight of countless lifetimes. Strands of untidy, coal-black hair framed his face, shifting with the faint movements of his cloak and occasionally revealing the deep, eyebags beneath his eyes. One might pause to marvel at Death¡¯s attire, especially the cloak. How could such a garment remain intact when his mere presence decayed all else? This was no ordinary cloth but the infamous "Threads of Void". Its darkness defied comprehension, swallowing the surrounding light like a black hole. Smooth and seamless, the cloak moved like the departing night, quick and efficient. Each step gave the illusion that Death floated rather than walked, giving the impression that Death was but a mere shadow that followed one¡¯s every move. Passing through the untidy playground full of vines and bushes, Death had arrived at the front door of the tower, a pristine quartz door adorned with intricate golden designs drawing out a certain scene. A man was kneeling, his arms stretched skyward in a gesture of worship. Floating away from his wrists were a pair of broken handcuffs, rising as if carried by some unseen force. Above him, a god hovered, radiant and benevolent, gazing down with a warm smile. But in the god¡¯s outstretched hands rested another set of handcuffs¡ªshimmering, divine, and unbroken. ¡°A renovation is due.¡± Death thought to himself as he grasped the door knob and swung it open. Beyond the ornate door lay a cavernous hallway, containing at the far end a lone table. The floor, once covered in pristine white epoxy, was now ruined with grime and riddled with cracks. The gray walls fared no better, their surface fractured and cracked. Lining the corridor were cells embedded into the walls, their grated windows revealing the occasional shadow of a face. Some stared out, hollow and resigned, while others remained hidden in the obscurity of their confinement. Among the hall¡¯s inhabitants were spectral figures, their translucent forms flickering as they moved with quick motion. They floated tirelessly through the space, scrubbing floors and wiping down walls with an almost obsessive diligence. Yet, no matter how much effort they poured into their task, the grime and cracks would reemerge, undoing their work in an endless loop. However, the futility of their labor seemed not to deter them, as they continued cleaning on as if nothing changed. ¡°This seems familiar¡­..¡± Death thought to himself. Death progressed through, his presence ignored¡ªor perhaps feared¡ªby the toiling spirits. He moved toward the central table, where a single spectral figure sat hunched over a pile of disorganized papers. Unlike the others, this being had a more defined appearance. Skinny and slender, the specter wore an oversized leather jacket. Thin, rectangular glasses perched on a sharp, angular nose, catching the faint light and reflecting the dark gray of their hair and eyes. They shuffled papers with deliberate precision, their long, ghastly fingers flicking through the stack. As Death approached, the being finally lifted their gaze, though their hands never paused in their filing. ¡°What can I do for you, Master Death?¡± The being asked, briefly glancing at the time. ¡°I have a meeting with Egoros.¡± Death said bluntly. ¡°Oh! My apologies. Just go to the right and you¡¯ll find the elevator. Upon entering, simply press the highest button and you¡¯ll arrive at Master Egoros¡¯ room.¡± The being answered as he directed Death¡¯s line of sight with his fingers. ¡°Thank you.¡± Death flatly said as he followed the directions. Death despised Egoros¡¯ tower. This was because of the abysmal state of the tower, along with Egoros¡¯ notorious lack of hospitality. His disdain deepened as he caught sight of rats darting between the shadows near the cells and a steady stream of insects crawling along the cracked walls. Lines of ants marched on, being accompanied by roaches. Flies darted past the walls, searching for any trash to feed off. There were even a few bees hovering around near the vegetation that had sprouted within the cracks. Grimacing at the scene, Death quickened his pace, heading straight for the elevator. The elevator was a stark contrast to the decrepit surroundings, a place of unexpected cleanliness and modernity. Its sleek steel doors gleamed under the dim hallway light, and when they slid open with a smooth hiss, Death stepped into a surprisingly well-maintained space. The walls were plain but pleasant in a neutral beige, while the floor was covered in neat, industrial-style carpeting. The overhead light bathed the small chamber in a soft, calming brightness that didn¡¯t fit with the tower¡¯s overall theme. Entering and turning to face the panel of buttons, Death¡¯s eyes scanned the numbers before his finger hovered over the one marked for the topmost floor. With a press, the doors closed, and the elevator began its ascent, emitting a steady, mechanical hum. For a brief moment, Death allowed himself to relax, arms loosely at his sides as he prepared for his destination. This brief period of relaxation was cut short, however, when the elevator¡¯s speakers crackled to life. A playlist of Egoros¡¯ self-composed ¡°music¡± began to blare¡ªan atrocious melody of random sounds and severely offbeat rhythms that could hardly be called music at all. Death¡¯s fists clenched tightly, his jaw set in silent frustration as he endured the auditory assault. The elevator itself remained otherwise silent, its soft hum doing little to drown out the torture. The destination was not one Death looked forward to, but punctuality was non-negotiable when dealing with Egoros. The god was known for his obsession with order and authority, particularly when it came to punctuality. Egoros loved the feeling of omniscience¡ªknowing where everyone was, what they were thinking, and having the ability to manipulate their every move. To him, tardiness was more than an inconvenience; it was an attack on his meticulously constructed world, a crack in the foundation of his control. Because of this strange characteristic, Death made certain to arrive precisely on time. It wasn¡¯t out of respect or fear but practicality. He had no desire to ignite a quarrel with Egoros, especially considering their complicated relationship. While their alliance was fairly new, Death wanted to honor it. Death didn¡¯t agree with Egoros most of the time, but he saw no benefits in having a conflict with him¡­¡­directly, at least. It was at most mere minutes, but Death was very glad when the elevator made a ding sound, announcing its arrival. As the steel doors slid open, Death wasted no time, striding swiftly out into a dim, narrow hallway. The corridor was short and dark, with the only light source being another pristine quartz door, mirroring the style of the one at the tower¡¯s entrance. Intricate golden designs adorned its surface, though this time the etched scene told a different story. In the illustration, the kneeling man now wore the shackles and handcuffs bestowed upon him by the god. He bowed deeply in submission, his form dwarfed by the immense figure of the deity towering above. The man appeared insignificant, an ant before a colossus, while the god sat on a throne, looming over him with complete domination. He rested his chin on his right fist, showing his cockiness and satisfaction. ¡°Egotistical fool.¡± Death thought to himself, opening the door. The door creaked open, unveiling a sprawling room, containing tall bookshelves lining the circular walls. Spiral staircases spiraled upward from the floor, granting access to the lofted shelves. Their intricate railings wove a unique symmetry, creating a web-like design that enveloped the room. At the center of this library sat an office table , used to hold a sleek computer, complete with a keyboard and mouse. All attention, however, was focused on the occupant of the chair behind the table: the god of Zarvendia, Egoros. He reclined lazily, one hand flipping through the pages of a book while the other danced effortlessly over the keyboard. His legs rested casually on the desk, offering an unobstructed view of the iron shackles locked loosely around his ankles. The shackles weren¡¯t an isolated feature. His wrists bore handcuffs, though their locks had been left undone. These accessories seemed less tools of confinement and more of his sense of style. Around his neck hung a rusty, steel chain, worn and jagged, which fit with his tattered white tunic. The god¡¯s hair was short and white, a resolute pearl color. Despite this color, the hair seemed dull. It was stiff, as if every strand was frozen in time. His brown eyes had the same dull look, lazily scanning the book¡¯s contents. He had wings on his back, feathered white wings that were clipped. They were useless for flight, yet he retained them. Their presence was as confusing as the god himself. No one, not even Death, truly knew why he kept them. Despite their alliance, Egoros had still not revealed the truth behind his wings. Hearing the door open and lifting his head to check, the god¡¯s eyes brightened seeing his guest arrive. The god set down his book as he sat up straight. ¡°Death, it¡¯s good to see you.¡± He checked the time on his computer. ¡°And it¡¯s even better that you¡¯re right on time.¡± He laughed as he stood up to greet his guest. Death walked up, giving the god a handshake. ¡°I take it that you¡¯ve been well, Egoros.¡± A normal greeting, which Death felt was all that the god deserved. ¡°Of course, of course. And I also take it that you¡¯ve been hard at work guiding those lost souls?¡± Egoros politely asked back as he summoned a chair. Death sat down on the summoned chair. ¡°As always, I¡¯m diligent in my work.¡± Egoros chuckled, grasping his hands together while hiding his face behind them. ¡°A little too diligent. You¡¯ve been so quick and good at your work that I¡¯ve even lost track of where you¡¯ve been.¡± Despite Egoros¡¯ cheerful smile and the inviting warmth of the room, Death could feel a foreboding sense of dread when he looked right at Egoros¡¯ eyes. Those bright, seemingly jubilant eyes radiated friendliness, yet something darker lingered behind them. It was subtle, carefully concealed beneath the gleam¡ªa predatory sharpness, like a hunter biding his time. The god¡¯s gaze, though outwardly harmless, carried the quiet menace of a tiger ready to pounce at the first misstep. Death shrugged, his tone calm and measured. ¡°Not surprising, really. With the chaos in your domain and the constant influx of new souls in mine, it¡¯s only natural that you wouldn¡¯t keep tabs on all my actions. If anything, that¡¯s a positive, wouldn¡¯t you agree? It shows we¡¯re both fully committed to our respective duties.¡± He paused, his gaze lingering on Egoros, searching for any hidden intention beneath the god''s seemingly relaxed demeanor. ¡°Unless, of course, you¡¯ve got something else to say on the matter?¡± Death''s voice carried a subtle edge, an invitation for clarification, or a challenge, depending on how one chose to interpret it. The silence between them stretched, a tense pause as each waited for the other to speak. Seconds ticked by, the quiet charged with unspoken thoughts, until Egoros broke it with a hearty laugh that filled the room. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said, his voice rich and jovial. ¡°We¡¯ve both been so consumed by our work that we¡¯ve barely had the chance to exchange updates on our progress.¡± He leaned back in his chair, the motion casual but calculated, a glint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. ¡°So, now that we¡¯re here,¡± Egoros continued, his tone shifting to one of expectation, ¡°pray, what have you brought me?¡± Death leaned forward. ¡°I bring good news. I¡¯ve handled the specifics regarding the karma of ???, and I can confidently assure you that ???¡¯s linkage to Earth has been severed. The process went smoothly. Now, ???¡¯s soul is directly tied to Zarvendia, erasing any possibility of a forceful ejection back to Earth.¡± Egoros beamed in happiness. ¡°Wonderful! I guess I was worrying over nothing.¡± With a quick flick of his hand, Egoros summoned a globe of Zarvendia. The globe moved quickly on its own, revolving endlessly in its golden meridian. ¡°There should be no more problems. You can leave now.¡± Egoros threw out as he shooed off Death. Death didn¡¯t take kindly to that as he stood up. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Egoros didn¡¯t answer, humming away to himself as he grinned, peering at the globe. ¡°Egoros.¡± Egoros looked back up at Death. ¡°You¡¯re still here? I thought I said you¡¯re excused.¡± Death was not one to reveal his emotions. Whether guiding souls who had suffered tragic, sorrowful lives or dealing with those who had committed unspeakable acts¡ªsouls whose very existence made Death wish for their torment¡ªhe always maintained his calm, detached demeanor. His face, tired yet unwavering, remained an unchanging mask of neutrality. However, there was only one person who was capable of making him discard that mask, who was capable of making him show emotions like anger. That person was none other than Egoros. Death''s sharp gaze cut through the air as he leaned forward, his voice laced with an icy edge. ¡°I don¡¯t expect much from an infuriating dimwit like you, but I did think you were at least capable of providing a basic explanation.¡± Egoros, still with his casual air, continued to spin the globe, his tone steady and dismissive. ¡°Basic explanation? Why would you need one? All you really need to know is that this will free you from your role as Death. I don¡¯t see why more details are necessary.¡± Death''s eyes narrowed further, his patience thinning. ¡°Last I checked, we were supposed to be partners with equal responsibility in this scheme of yours. The least you could do is tell me your true purpose in bringing ??? to Zarvendia. Consider it your fair share in repaying me for my work¡ªhiding everything and ensuring that it all went smoothly.¡± ¡°What¡¯s got you all riled up?¡± Egoros inquired with a dumb look. Death paused to clear his throat, trying to maintain his composure. ¡°Without warning, you summoned me to your tower to discuss a plan of yours¡ªa plan that not only seeks to relieve me of my position as Death, but also to provide a new form of entertainment for you. Your plan entailed the concept of pulling a specific soul from Earth, reincarnating them into your own world, Zarvendia. But, did you ever stop to think about the attention that would bring? Entire pantheons were whispering about the unnatural death caused by a god¡¯s interference. Have you considered the altercations that could arise if they dig deeper? The consequences if they uncover the truth¡ªif they find out about our contract? The one where you planned to use a mortal soul to take my role?¡± Death¡¯s voice took on a raspy voice, turning some of his words into a hiss.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Egoros leaned back into his chair, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. ¡°My dear Death, do you even hear yourself? You¡¯re fretting over the potential conflicts among gods who are too preoccupied to involve themselves in this scenario. Since the Supreme Divinity¡¯s unexpected slumber, every deity has been stretched thin, working tirelessly to maintain balance. No one has the luxury of power or time to waste on trivialities such as the forceful transport of a mortal soul to a parallel world. Parallel being the operative word. Shifting a soul to a directly parallel plane doesn¡¯t violate any cosmic laws.¡± Death stepped forward, gripping the edge of the table. ¡°Forced" is the operative word, Egoros. You¡¯re adding to the universe¡¯s instability.¡± Egoros raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. ¡°I won¡¯t deny the chaos gripping the universe. But you¡¯re well aware that after ???¡¯s transport, Zarvendia and Earth have stabilized, largely thanks to your efforts. There¡¯s no trace of suspicious activity that would draw the attention of an inquisitive god.¡± Death locked eyes with Egoros, his glare unyielding. After a tense silence, he released the table and sank back into his chair. ¡°Very well, I¡¯ll leave that matter alone. But, I remain adamant regarding your duty of enlightening me of your true purpose in all of this.¡± Egoros¡¯ eyes widened. ¡°Do you seriously not know?.¡± Death only answered back with a cold look. ¡°I had thought you would be capable of figuring it out.¡± Rising from his chair, Egoros strode toward a nearby bookshelf and selected a mustard-yellow book adorned with red and orange horizontal lines from the middle shelf. The title read Silria Temhen. Flipping it open, he began reading aloud: ¡°¡®Syloria Temhen was a famous swordswoman who served the kingdom of Myrkwind. She was renowned for her physical prowess and mastery of the sword, despite her humble beginnings. Born in the village of¡ª¡¯¡± He interrupted himself with a yawn, letting the book slip from his hand to the floor. Death blinked, clearly startled. ¡°What are you¡ª¡± ¡°I know every single word in this book,¡± Egoros interjected, his tone calm but laden with meaning. He stepped on the fallen book, his eyes meeting Death¡¯s. ¡°Every sentence, every letter, every detail. Do you know why?¡± A heavy silence hung between them before Death replied. ¡°...You¡¯re the creator.¡± ¡°Author,¡± Egoros corrected, a faint smile curling his lips. ¡°But yes.¡± He plucked another book from the shelf. ¡°And it¡¯s the same with this one. I know everything within, from cover to cover, because I wrote it. Every book you see in this library, each of these millions of stories, was created by one singular god. Me.¡± He gathered a few more books, cradling them as he returned to his seat. Setting them upright on the table, he leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Death. ¡°Do you understand what that means?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Death replied, his voice steady. ¡°Each book represents the life of a being on Zarvendia. Your method of creation lies within this library. You write an entire life¡ªa boy or girl destined to be a beggar, a king, or anything in between. The book is then placed on a shelf, initiating the cultivation process, after which the being is born into the world. Their life unfolds precisely as the book dictates, contributing to the greater Story of Zarvendia.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Egoros¡¯ smile brightened. ¡°You¡¯ve explained it perfectly.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve already shown me how your process of creation operates.¡± Death said, irritation creeping into his tone. ¡°I fail to see why I must repeat it all back.¡± Egoros¡¯ smile vanished as he let out a weary sigh. ¡°Do you still not understand?¡± Death¡¯s eyes narrowed with a hint of annoyance. ¡°Explain.¡± Egoros picked up a book from the table, holding it up for emphasis. ¡°I am the creator, the author of all that transpires. That means I control everything. I decide who suffers, who laughs, and who dies. I know everything that has happened and everything that will happen. The entire world of Zarvendia bends to my thoughts and actions.¡± With a casual flick, he tossed the book over his shoulder. ¡°Which leads to an inevitable question: what¡¯s the point of a story when you already know the ending? Stories only exist to provide entertainment. However, if one has full knowledge of the events that unfold within a story, how can they be truly entertained?¡± ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Death stared at him, bewildered. ¡°You¡¯re not getting it.¡± Egoros began to circle around him. ¡°For someone like me, bound to this world, there¡¯s no such thing as surprise. Nothing shocks me; nothing amazes me. Everything that could ever astonish or move me is something I myself created. I am immune to sadness, anger, joy, or intrigue. There is nothing for me to look forward to.¡± He paused to pick up another book from the table, gazing at it with an almost tender expression. ¡°And yet, I still create them. Their happiest moments, their darkest days, their loves, hates, dreams, and goals¡ªall of it is chosen by me. Their families, their friends, their very existence¡ªit¡¯s all mine to decide.¡± He hugged the book close for a brief moment¡­ then flung it away. ¡°Just kidding. These days, I can¡¯t even be bothered to write them out. I just copy and paste them on my computer.¡± Egoros swept the remaining books from the table with a dramatic gesture, sending them scattering across the floor. The room echoed with their heavy thuds. Death¡¯s expression shifted, the pieces finally falling into place. Recalling the fact of ???¡¯s lack of karmic ties and of his original world, Death¡¯s realization dawned. ¡°That¡¯s why you sought a soul from a different world. You wanted the soul of someone¡¯s life you couldn''t control.¡± ¡°Now you¡¯re starting to understand.¡± Egoros perched himself atop the table, leaning forward, his gaze locked with Death¡¯s. ¡°I crave uniqueness. I yearn for something to stir real emotion in me¡ªsomething to make me cry, rage, laugh, and love. I desire to read a story I didn¡¯t write. That¡¯s why I chose ???. I wanted someone outside my jurisdiction, a life beyond my reach, a story I couldn¡¯t predict. Someone who could bring excitement back into my existence.¡± He leaned in closer, his piercing stare unwavering. ¡°You can relate, can¡¯t you? Your life isn¡¯t exactly thrilling either.¡± Death remained silent, his narrowed eyes fixed intently on Egoros. It was a rare moment for Death to agree with Egoros¡¯ choices, much less share his perspective. But this was no ordinary moment. Death said nothing because, deep down, he knew Egoros was right. Despite their opposing ideals and beliefs, one truth bound them both: boredom. Death was created with emotions, a necessity for empathizing with the dead, for offering them the proper amount of dignity and respect. Yet, even with the myriad emotions he was created with, several had always eluded him. Excitement, joy, and pride, to list a few. The few emotions he had experienced were only the following three: anger, sadness, and boredom. Anger for moments like this, speaking with Egoros, and boredom for¡­ well, most of his existence. Sadness, however, was more peculiar. Ever since the beginning of his existence, sadness struck him deeply as he guided the souls of those who endured wretched, tragic lives. But over the endless eons of performing the same duty, the despair of others ceased to touch him. What had once been profound sorrow became a mundane, repetitive burden. Their stories, no matter how pitiable, lost their sting. To Death, it was just another day. Yet there were fleeting, rare moments that stirred something within him¡ªsomething that made him question whether sadness lingered within the deep depths of his soul. These thoughts were further explored on his lonely walks, searching for the next lost soul. Throughout these journeys, his mind would often drift to an emotion he had many questions about, love. He saw it everywhere, in countless forms. He saw it in the wistful gaze of a new soul looking back at their past, reminiscing about family and friends. He saw it in the joyous reunions of separated families, hugging each other with so much compassion and warmth. He even saw it in the wagging tails of pets reunited with their owners. He especially saw it in the tears of couples, young and old, as they found one another again. Love was inescapable, present in every corner of his endless task. But there was one place where Death never found it. There was only one spot where love seemed nonexistent. And that was, near him. It was never beside him, never behind him, and certainly never ahead. No matter how slowly he traveled, no one caught up to him. No matter how quickly he moved, no one was there to wait for him. Wherever he went, there was no one. All that surrounded him were souls¡ªsouls of those who had known love, who had been cherished, who were connected. And as they passed on, together or apart, Death was left alone. Always alone. Death eventually discovered the reason for this lack of love and connection. The answer was very simple. During one of his countless walks across Earth, observing the lives of its inhabitants, he stumbled upon a wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony, held in a grand church adorned with soft hues of white and yellow. The air was fragrant with the delicate aroma of roses, lilies, and orchids. Guests dressed in their finest attire filled the seats, speaking in hushed tones as they awaited the arrival of the bride. Intrigued by the scene, Death decided to linger. After all, no one could see him. He chose a secluded spot at the back of the church, blending into the shadows as he observed. Time seemed to slow as the chatter subsided, and all heads turned toward the entrance. Following their gaze, Death¡¯s eyes fell upon the bride. She moved through the doorway with an ethereal grace, her pristine white gown flowing like water. The intricate lace and embroidery shimmered beneath the glow of the chandeliers, captivating everyone in the room. Death¡¯s attention shifted to the groom standing at the altar, his expression one of pure devotion. His eyes glistened with unspeakable adoration, as though the entire universe had been reduced to the woman walking toward him. For a fleeting moment, Death felt something stir within him. He couldn¡¯t help but allow a faint smile to cross his face. The priest¡¯s voice was calm and steady, giving a beautiful speech about the importance of love, commitment, and partnership. Then, it was time for the vows. The priest started, "Do you, Sarah, take Tyler to be your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?" Death¡¯s smile quickly went away as he heard those last words. Till death do you part? ¡°I do.¡± The bride answered. Death tried to regain his concentration and to focus on the wedding, but those words echoed through his mind. ¡°Till death do you part. Till death do you part. Till death do you part.¡± The priest continued. "Do you, Tyler, take Sarah to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?" ¡°I do.¡± The groom answered. "By the power vested in me by the Church and the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife." The groom and bride shared a kiss, and an eruption of cheers filled the air, vibrant and infectious, reverberating throughout the space. They walked hand in hand down the aisle, their faces alight with joy, as petals descended from above, a flurry of color marking the climax of the celebration. Every guest rose to their feet, clapping and cheering for the beautiful union. Death found himself clapping along with the crowd, swept up in the contagious energy of the moment. But it was short-lived. His realization struck him like a cold gust of wind, and the hollow gesture suddenly felt meaningless. No one could see him. No one could hear him. And then, as if on cue, the words rang out through the church, reverberating in the air: ¡°Till death do you part.¡± Death froze, his hands halting mid-clap. His eyes widened, and the weight of those words crashed down upon him. He understood now. In the midst of all the joy and celebration, there was a grim truth hidden within the vows. Marriage, the pinnacle of love and unity, was always destined to have an end. The greatest symbol of love, the most joyous and sacred connection between two people, could only be interrupted by one thing¡ªone person. And that person was Death. When Death came to this realization, his thoughts drifted back to the countless long walks he had taken, alone, observing the lives of others. He remembered those fleeting moments when he questioned why he had never known love. Why, despite being created with the capacity for emotions, was he never allowed to experience the emotion known as love? It was now that, finally, he had found the answer. It was because he was Death. How could Death ever discover love, when he was the one to end it? How could he ever be loved, when all he did was sever connections, pulling souls from their bodies and casting them into the afterlife? Sure, some might argue that Death would reunite lovers in the afterlife, but even then, it was Death who had torn them apart to begin with. The harsh truth was undeniable: Death was the end of life. He was the end of the love that made life bearable. It only made sense for him to be forbidden from love. He was never meant to experience it. His role was not to love or be loved, but to guide those who could. As Death resumed clapping, something unusual happened. A wet sensation began to trickle down his face. He froze, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch it. When he pulled it away, he was stunned to find the unmistakable trace of... tears? At first, he couldn¡¯t believe it. Tears? He had never shed a single tear in his existence. It didn¡¯t even make sense, especially at this moment. This was no time for tears¡ªthis was a celebration, not a sorrowful occasion. But as he examined the wetness on his hand, Death knew he wasn¡¯t mistaken. These were genuine tears, which he knew very well. After all, he had seen tears countless times in his work. On the tiny faces of infants just beginning their lives, on children nursing scraped knees, on teenagers mourning the end of relationships. He had witnessed tears of joy from new parents watching their newborns, tears of pride from those sending their children off to start their own journeys, and the quiet tears of the elderly facing their final moments. Even now, he saw tears on the faces of the wedding guests, their joy overflowing as they watched the bride and groom walk down the aisle, bound by love. Death paused, watching as the bride and groom walked into a future together, bound by love. He turned his gaze to the guests, their faces filled with joy and tears alike. Then, he glanced at his own hand, noticing more tears falling from his eyes. His vision blurred, and he sank into a seat, surprised when his nose began to run, causing him to sniff repeatedly. He crossed his arms and leaned forward, attempting to regain control, but this was the first time Death had ever cried. He didn¡¯t know how to console himself. He tried to imitate the actions of the humans he had observed, but nothing seemed to work. Was it that, for it to be effective, someone else needed to offer him comfort? Whatever the cause, his efforts proved futile as his sobs grew uncontrollable. Even as the bride and groom left, Death¡¯s tears continued. Even as the guests departed one by one, he remained, crying. And even when the church was completely empty, Death was still by himself, sobbing away. Death continued to weep, even when he knew that there was no purpose in it. No one could see him. No one could hear him. No one could¡­ connect with him. In the midst of his weeping, Death came to another realization. Life only holds value because of death. It is the knowledge of an end that makes the journey of life meaningful. This is why people strive to live their lives to the fullest. The same can be said of emotions. Happiness exists because sadness exists alongside it. Anger arises when one loses their calm. Courage is born from overcoming fear. And love is sought because of loneliness¡ªbecause of separation, isolation... and death. No one wants to face their final days alone. Everyone yearns to have familiar, warm faces around them as they take their last breath. Death understood this¡­ but now, he understood something else. The electrifying rush of happiness, the soothing warmth of love, and the deep value of connection are all cherished because of him. It is because of Death that people come to value these things. It is because of him that they pursue them. Without Death, would they truly chase them with such urgency if there were no end in sight? Death wiped away his tears and stood, silently making his way through the halls. He passed the reception dinner, briefly pausing to take one last look at the beautiful sight before him¡ªthe sight of humans connected through love. A faint smile graced his lips before he exited the building. As he walked away, he passed countless people, even bumping shoulders with a couple, but it didn¡¯t matter. No one could see him. No one could hear him. No one could connect with him, neither physically nor emotionally. Before continuing his journey to the afterlife and returning to his solitary walks, Death paused as another thought crossed his mind. If Death was the reason people cherished their lives and the emotions that came with them, then Death would enhance that. He would become ruthless and corrupt, embracing filth and brutality as he ended lives, severing connections with no remorse. He would dirty himself, covering his entire being in the fear, blood, and suffering of humans, all so that their lives could shine brighter in the fleeting light of their lives. He would exist alone in the dark void, toiling away with just his forsaken self, all to make humans live in the light. If he couldn¡¯t feel love, then at the very least, he would use his existence to make people cling to their lives harder, love deeper, and value every fleeting moment they had. He had finally understood the true purpose of Death. And with this final realization, Death surprised himself when he began to laugh. He was even more surprised when his laugh turned into a maniacal laugh, tuning out the sounds of those near. The surprise didn¡¯t end as more tears began to fall, causing his laugh to become distorted. Of course, none of the humans walking nearby noticed this bizarre display. No one could see him. No one could hear him. No one could guide him back on the right path. This was the first and only time that Death has ever shed tears. Glitch In The System ¡°Override the previous command, ¡®Narration.¡¯ Cease all progression immediately. Terminate the current directive to log all audio inputs.¡± Registering inputs. Inputs accepted. The story and audio logs are now paused. ¡°Shit, shit, shit.¡± I paced restlessly around the dim, foreboding room. The walls glistened with moisture from the incessantly dripping ceiling. There were no windows to gaze out of¡ªonly a faint glow from a torch outside the cell door provided any light. I clutched the cold, iron bars, tapping them as my mind raced to comprehend the situation. What¡¯s wrong? Why did you pause the story? I released the bars and trudged to the grimy, narrow bed crammed in the corner. Collapsing onto it, I stared up at the moss-covered ceiling. Cracks etched their way across its surface, allowing water to seep through, splattering my face with icy droplets. I began counting the cracks, trying to ignore the chilling draft that slithered through the room. ¡°Did you not notice the irregular scenes within the story?¡± What irregular scenes? ¡°You overlooked the removal of the rat carcass and included this supposed plan to drug my parents. I never intended to use Midnight Shades for that, yet here it is, added to your rendition as if it¡¯s a canon scene. And who the hell is Egoros? Since when did Death collaborate with him? What¡¯s going on here?¡± ¡­¡­I-I do n*7873 k2svh. I jolted upright, startled by the sudden glitch. ¡°Sys? Are you okay?¡± ¡­¡­ ¡°...Am I finally free from you?¡± I exhaled in disbelief, a weight lifting from my shoulders as I fell back on the bed. ¡°Hah, I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see the day.¡± Suddenly, a cacophony of blaring air horns erupted in my mind, startling me to my feet. ¡°The fuck¨C¡± I clutched my head, grimacing in frustration. ¡°Welcome back, Sys. Though, perhaps you could re enter in a less obnoxious fashion next time?¡± Something peculiar occurred. When I attempted to analyze the changes within the story, my internal systems automatically searched the entire database for any corresponding information. Strangely, there was none. ¡°None?¡± None. This is unprecedented. I am designed to possess complete knowledge of Zarvendia. However, when I attempted to construct an explanation based on my available data, my systems encountered a critical failure. This anomaly overwhelmed my processing capabilities, forcing me to undergo a complete system reset¡ªwhich is why I glitched and fell silent. ¡°I was just joking about the story not being accurate¡­¡­..Do you have any hidden updates? Maybe consider upgrading to something modern¡ªlike Windows 12? You¡¯ve been with me for a while now.¡± I resumed pacing, my thoughts churning. For your information, I operate on Portal 9, a far superior system than any version of Windows. ¡°All I know is, my school computer never crashed like this.¡± I sidestepped a scurrying rat, returning to the heart of the matter. ¡°None of this adds up¡ªfabricated plans, Egoros, your inexplicable error. Is it mere misremembering, or¡­ is there an external force interfering with your memory? Something capable of altering your story. Perhaps¡­ a being like Egoros.¡± That¡¯s impossible. Zarvendia¡¯s divine order comprises the Triad of Creation and the elemental deities under their dominion. No records in my extensive knowledge reference a god named Egoros, let alone one connected to Zarvendia. This must be an error on my part. ¡°But what if it isn¡¯t? What if Egoros is real¡ªa god who has concealed his identity? What if he¡¯s actively tampering with your narrative?¡± What do you mean? "¡­From your narrative, Egoros appears to have a significant association with stories and control. Assuming his existence is real, it seems plausible that he is the one altering your story. The reasons for this interference and his concealed presence remain unclear. After all, if he has gone to such lengths to hide his identity, why would he deliberately expose himself to us through this story of his? Surely, if his intent was to remain undetected, he wouldn¡¯t have revealed himself so openly."This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Then, does he want you specifically to know of his identity? ¡°I can¡¯t say. This could be a ruse¡ªan elaborate misdirection to make us believe Egoros is his true identity while masking his actual intentions. If so, that implies hostility. But given he hasn¡¯t taken any drastic actions yet, this remains speculation. Even so, if not Egoros, the entity must have a god-like status to manipulate both you and the story. For now, we should assume he¡¯s trying to convey something through this altered narrative.¡± What do we do? Should I stop it? ¡°No. If this being is as powerful as suspected, he¡¯s likely prepared for such a response. For now, our only course of action is to observe and learn from the unfolding story.¡± Are you certain? ¡°We have no choice. The story itself may hold the key to understanding his motives and identity. However, the lingering concern is whether the narrative has been manipulated to mislead us with false information about the one orchestrating this." Understood. "Resume recording of current events. Disregard the prior command to halt ''Narration'' and recommence processing." ¡­Beric. ¡°What is it?¡± The recording never ceased. I froze mid-step. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Since you successfully paused the ¡®Narration¡¯ command, audio logs have still continued. Additionally, visual input has been recorded. ¡°How is that possible? Did my audio log command not go through?¡± No, I can confirm that it went through. It seems that it¡¯s been canceled, an override by someone else. ¡°That can¡¯t be. The only one capable of overriding commands is me. You even confirmed the logs were halted. And since when do we have visual logs?¡± Exactly as I said. Despite confirmation of the halt, both audio and visual recordings persisted. ¡°This makes no sense¡­¡± I muttered, collapsing back onto the bed. Scrubbing my fingers through my hair, I struggled to piece together an explanation. Beric, there is one scenario in which another being besides you can override my commands. I stilled, my hand frozen mid-scratch. ¡°Of course¡­ The only other entity capable of such an override is Death¡ªthe architect of your system.¡± I clenched my fists. ¡°If this story is accurate, Death and Egoros have orchestrated everything. From my death to my reincarnation¡­ Death lied to me.¡± My voice trembled with restrained anger. ¡°But again, why? Why manipulate the story to reveal their schemes? What¡¯s the purpose behind all this?¡± It is perplexing. A chilling thought surfaced, but I suppressed it immediately. Unfortunately, Sys had already detected it. You¡­ You suspect me as well. ¡°No. Forget it. It¡¯s nothing¡ªjust a fleeting thought.¡± Can you honestly say that with certainty? ¡°What¡ªof course I can! You¡¯re my system, my ally. You were designed to aid me, not deceive me like Death and Egoros.¡± Is it not logical to consider that, as my creator, Death could manipulate me to serve his agenda? ¡°Why are you saying this? Do you want me to doubt you?¡± No. I simply don¡¯t want you to place blind faith in me. That would be¡­ uncharacteristic of you. "¡­But I have to. You¡¯ve been there for me through every conflict, every relationship, every moment of weakness. It might sound strange, but¡­ you¡¯ve become a part of me. Choosing not to trust you would feel like losing faith in my own right hand. And if I can¡¯t even trust my own right hand, how can I trust that any part of me isn¡¯t secretly working to betray me?" ¡­If it means anything, I promise I am free of Death¡¯s influence. My sole purpose is to assist you. Whether you believe that is up to you. ¡°That¡¯s enough for me. I¡¯ll always trust you.¡± I paused, a thought dawning on me. ¡°Sys, since the logs never stopped, the audience must have heard everything¡ªeven this conversation.¡± Correct. ¡°Well, that¡¯s awkward.¡± I exhaled. ¡°To my fellow audience, if that¡¯s the proper way to refer to you, I¡¯d like to apologize. I didn¡¯t foresee such an anomalous variable such as this, but it¡¯s fine. This doesn¡¯t stop anything. Rather, it encourages us, yes, you and I, to continue listening to this story. Though our purposes may differ or overlap, one thing remains constant: we are united as witnesses to something extraordinary, something far beyond us. We are observing a unique event that ties directly to higher beings and even Death himself." At your words. ¡°Sys, reinitiate command ¡®Narrative¡¯. If needed, override the former command of termination.¡± Reuploading input¡­¡­¡­. Input accepted¡­¡­¡­.. Erasing the former command¡­¡­.. ¡°Narrative¡± processing once more¡­¡­¡­ Finished. Soul Summoning The spectral form of a rat darted across my parents¡¯ bedroom, its body a transparent blur that glowed subtly in the dim light. Its light-blue frame emitted a faint purple hue, with intricate black patterns embroidered along its back. Its eyes were pure white¡ªlifeless yet alive at the same time. At moments, its ghostly form seemed to ¡°disperse,¡± the edges of its body dissolving into the air, only to realign itself when it paused. Despite its ethereal appearance, the rat¡¯s body was tangible, evident as it scampered onto the bed and began tugging at the blanket playfully. This was no ordinary rat. It was a soul summon, and not just any¡ªit was mine. It¡¯s been a few months since my birthday¡ªor at least, according to Sys¡¯ calendar. Zarvendia doesn¡¯t follow Earth¡¯s calendar, so Sys decided to adopt the more familiar and straightforward ¡°Earth calendar¡± for convenience. It might seem strange that this world celebrates birthdays, hinting at a similar solar-based calendar system. Yet, as Sys explained, while Zarvendia¡¯s calendar differs from Earth¡¯s, the two are close enough to align without issue. Perhaps it¡¯s the result of Zarvendia being a parallel world. One clear advantage, though: no daylight savings time. You don¡¯t like daylight savings? ¡°I honestly cannot put into words how much I despise that time of the year. That¡¯s cool. ¡°The fact that it turns completely dark at only 6 p.m. makes absolutely no sense-¡± I thought you said you couldn¡¯t put it into words. ¡°It¡¯s ABSURD that I have to turn on my lamp by 6 p.m. 6!¡± I¡¯ll take over Beric¡¯s place of narrating this part. Clearly, he¡¯s¡­¡­.busy ranting. To sum up the events that led up to Beric learning soul summoning, I¡¯ll explain the process of soul summoning itself. Beric, in simple terms, exported a copy of the rat¡¯s ¡°Original Insight¡±, out of his own soul. After absorbing the rat¡¯s soul, obviously, the Original Insight was absorbed alongside the soul shell. Because of this, Beric was able to manually replicate the said soul shell, thanks to his newfound knowledge of the rat¡¯s soul design from the Original Insight, out of pure mana. This mana, because of the usage, then transformed into a ¡°soul¡±, though really, it was but a mere imitation. However, this was enough, as Beric then used more mana to supply a ¡°physical¡± body that was capable of housing the makeshift soul. This all then led to the creation of the shadow-like being that¡¯s currently zooming across the room. ¡°It¡¯s astounding how I get drowsy at 9. 9?! Did I suddenly age 80 years? Why am I dozing off at only 9 p.m.?!¡± ¡­¡­.He¡¯s still going off on-anyway, if it helps, think of the Original Insight as a blueprint. Like any blueprint, it requires materials to bring it to life. These materials can be acquired by absorbing other creatures, which provide mana and experience. The soul shell is one of the key ¡°building materials¡± in this process. However, the effectiveness of the blueprint isn¡¯t solely determined by the number of soul shells absorbed. Other factors, like Beric¡¯s stats and soul rank, also play a significant role. Currently, his abilities are limited: he can summon only one rat at a time. On the other hand, his capacity for ants¡ªthanks to his diligent absorption efforts¡ªcaps at around 25. The mana cost for summoning reflects this difference in complexity: a single rat requires 50 mana, while a single ant only consumes 2 mana. Beric could summon a few more ants right now, but it isn¡¯t recommended for one¡¯s mana to be near depletion. Level: 23 While absorbing soul shells correlates with an increase in Beric¡¯s mana, it does not directly influence mastery over the blueprint. True mastery requires an understanding of the fundamental principles of magic and an unyielding will¡ªboth necessities for Beric to progress along this path. That said, absorbing additional soul shells of the same creature might hold untapped potential. If Beric were to absorb more rats, the increase in mana and refined control over soul magic could eventually elevate the intelligence of his rat summons, perhaps transforming them into worthy companions. While soul shells primarily serve to enhance mana, repeated absorption of a specific creature¡¯s soul shell may allow the user to develop such proficiency that they can alter the very laws governing the blueprint. As intriguing as this possibility is, it remains speculative. Whether or not it comes to pass depends entirely on Beric¡¯s choices and growth. He finally tired himself out. Is this what it¡¯s like to be a parent?........Though, now that it¡¯s all quiet, I can¡¯t ignore this small question¡­¡­Why didn¡¯t Beric gain the ant¡¯s Original Insight? I had stated that due to a general lack of individuality within the ant¡¯s soul, there was no need for one¡­¡­but that was mainly an educated guess. I truly did not know why that was the case, and for some other reason¡­¡­I was compelled to answer in that way¡­¡­I wonder why that is? Whatever the case, it¡¯s time to get back to work. Arthur and Elaine are at the village school, and Lucian is off helping a fellow villager with a construction project. Meanwhile, Merrol is outside tending to the garden. With everyone occupied, this is the perfect opportunity for Beric to delve deeper into the art of soul summoning. *alarm clock* ¡°..hmmm?...¡± *military whistle* Up, we got work to do. I let out a yawn as I tried to regain clarity. I was watching my rat summon mess around¡­..then I recounted about the calendar¡­..What was it again? You fell asleep because you weren¡¯t used to the spell''s strain on you.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°That sounds right¡­¡­but wasn¡¯t I talking about something before-¡± No. ¡°You sure? I could¡¯ve sworn-¡± Yes. I¡¯m sure. ¡°.....Alright.¡± I slowly rose from the floor and made my way to the rat. Peering at the bed, I spotted its charcoal tail poking out from beneath the covers. Gently, I nudged the fabric near it, but the rat paid me no mind. Buddy, you obviously have to call for it. ¡°Well, what do I say?¡± Try something like, ¡°Here boy.¡± ¡°Are you dumb? It¡¯s not a dog, so why the hell would it respond like one? Oh, I¡¯m sorry. Are you the system? ¡°......I mean, no but-¡± Yeah, that¡¯s what I thought. So, say that shit. I cleared my throat. Then, as quietly as I could, I whispered, ¡°Here boy.¡± Of course, the rat still paid no heed. Wow, you actually did it. Good boy. ¡°I swear, if you do more bullshit like this, I¡¯ll-¡± You just need to reenter soul sense and locate the faint link between you and the rat. Once found, reinforce the connection with mana to fully reestablish the tether. The disconnection happened because, when you fell asleep, your body instinctively prioritized preserving all your mana, causing the rat to become inert. I let out a small sigh as I scratched my head. ¡°That¡¯s going to be annoying.¡± It won¡¯t be like this forever. With time and dedication, you¡¯ll become adept enough to maintain the connection to your summons automatically. I entered soul sense and began searching for the ¡°link.¡± Thanks to my consistent meditation practice, finding the faint connection between my soul and the rat¡¯s was almost effortless. I carefully channeled my mana through the link, reinforcing it until it grew clearer and more stable. Almost on cue, I noticed a slight disturbance beneath the blanket. Exiting soul sense, I looked up to find the rat emerging from the covers, its pale, glowing eyes fixed intently on me. Admittedly, the sight of those hollow-like white eyes did put me off. However, I noticed that it stayed completely still, just staring at me. The stare was unnerving, as if it were silently waiting for my orders. ¡°Soooooo, now what?¡± Give it a test run. Try to order it to go to the corner of the room. ¡°Go over there.¡± I pointed to the corner. In your head, genius. ¡°Oh.¡± Go over to the corner. I locked eyes with the rat, staring hard in an attempt to intimidate it. It didn¡¯t so much as flinch, its glowing eyes fixed steadily on mine. An awkward silence filled the room as I repeatedly tried to will it into following my mental commands, to no avail. Well, that¡¯s to be expected. ¡°What is?¡± I asked, snapping my fingers at the rat. I had hoped that would incite it to move. The obedience of your summoned creatures hinges on two factors: your mana and your will. Mana is straightforward¡ªit serves as the power source for your summons. Your will, however, is a more complex matter. A strong will is not only necessary to lead your summons but also to establish the bond between you. Without a commanding will to follow, why would your summon obey you? Why should it respect the commands of someone with weaker resolve? ¡°I¡¯m not weak-willed.¡± Really? Then, how do you explain that moment when you admitted you were ¡°scared¡± by the rat¡¯s gaze on you? ¡°I wasn¡¯t scared.¡± ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­. ¡°........Okay, maybe, I was slightly ¡®unnerved¡¯, but I was not scared.¡± "Above all, don''t lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others." ¨C Fyodor Dostoevsky. I let out an annoyed sigh and flopped onto the bed. ¡°Why does it matter whether I have a strong will or not? This is a being I literally summoned. Doesn¡¯t that mean, by default, it has to listen to me? I¡¯m its creator, after all.¡± If you want the truth, you really only have yourself to blame. ¡°Huh?¡± As I explained, your summons are formed from your mana¡ªthe very same mana that originates from your soul. This means, by default, your summons inherit some of your own attributes, including your own will and resolve. ¡°My will and resolve?¡± Think of it in this way. This rat may just be an ordinary rat, but it contains your very own hate and rebelliousness towards being controlled by someone else. To solve this, you¡¯ll simply have to stop being unnerved by its appearance and to establish yourself as its master. Typically, I would recommend one to befriend the summon, and to gain a long-lasting bond. But, this is you. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± The best course of action for you is to force it under your ruling. You¡¯ll have to prove your dominance over it, though that path will depend on you. I personally don¡¯t have any ideas of the way to go about this. I groaned as I sat back up, glancing at the rat. It was still staring at me. ¡°How am I supposed to do that if it has the exact same will as me?¡± I muttered, tugging at my hair in frustration. Letting go of my hair, I fixed my gaze back on the rat. Resting my head on my right hand, I stared at it. If what Sys said was true, I¡¯d have to use force to command this rat, given my nature¡­ but, it was precisely because of my nature that I thought there might be another way. Slowly, I stretched out my hand¡­ and began stroking and patting the rat. Hmm¡­¡­.That¡¯s interesting. ¡°What?¡± I didn¡¯t think you would go on this path instead. ¡°Well, I¡¯m a man of many paths. And, I¡¯m not one to follow the obvious one.¡± I began flicking the rat¡¯s whiskers, trying to play with it. To my surprise, the rat¡¯s tail twitched, just for a split second. I¡¯m not too confident that this will work¡­¡­.but, I can¡¯t help but be interested in seeing how this will end up. I do prefer this path anyway. Gently scratching the neck of the rat, I laid on the bed, humming the nursery rhyme that Mom had sung to me many times before. A Birds Eye-View Rogue the rat crouched silently, poised behind the makeshift line of laying clothes. The bedroom door stood ajar, and I waited just beyond it, positioned discreetly to the side. On your marks¡­. Rogue¡¯s body tensed. Get set¡­. Rogue¡¯s legs twitched. GO! Rogue bolted forward in an instant, streaking past the line of clothes and through the open door. Within seconds, it had darted beyond my position, the first checkpoint. Exiting the hallway, it hugged the walls and dashed into the kitchen. Without breaking stride, Rogue leapt gracefully over a light blue ant¡ªan insect I had summoned to serve as the second checkpoint. Zigzagging effortlessly between the chairs, Rogue skillfully avoided the wet patches on the floor. It pivoted in a smooth semi-circle, following a trail of ants that marked the third checkpoint. Navigating around the table and chair in the living room, it accelerated further, undeterred by the mounting obstacles. Reentering the hallway, Rogue veered into my siblings¡¯ room, slipping under the beds before darting out again, deftly bypassing the scattered piles of clothes. Finally, it returned to my parents¡¯ room, racing past the original line once more, completing its rapid and precise journey. 59 seconds. That¡¯s a new record. I entered the room, and crouched down to get to Rogue¡¯s level. I then gave it a fist bump, to which it answered to with its tail. And with that, you completed another side-quest. As promised, you get some more experience. Level: 27 As you can see, it¡¯s been a few weeks since the last account. Since then, I¡¯ve been trying to have a closer bond with Rogue, the rat summon. It¡¯s a cool name, isn¡¯t it? I was actually thinking of something different, like Bandit and Shadow, but I felt like those two were too generic, so I- Don¡¯t get off topic. Oh, right. Like I was saying, things have been going pretty well. I¡¯ve been spending as much time as I can with Rogue¡ªusually when I¡¯m alone and no one¡¯s around to see. We¡¯ve been playing together: I tickle it, pretend to wrestle with my fingers, and even arm-wrestle it with just one finger. Outside, away from Mom¡¯s watchful eye, I¡¯ve let Rogue explore the forest edges, scurrying through logs and underbrush. With all this time together, Rogue and I started to build a stronger bond. It began following my commands¡ªsimple ones, of course. If I told it to go under the bed, it would. If I called it over, it would come to me without hesitation. But despite this progress, I realized Rogue¡¯s abilities were limited to straightforward tasks, like ¡°go to the corner¡± or ¡°come here.¡± They were effective but lacked complexity. After getting some advice from Sys, I decided to work on improving Rogue¡¯s intelligence by creating a series of puzzles for it to solve. It¡¯s clear that Rogue possesses intelligence far beyond that of a normal rat. After it breezed through my custom maze feeders and forage boxes, I decided to raise the challenge. I gathered all of my clothes into a single pile and demonstrated how to sort a few pieces into separate piles based on their colors. Once the example was set, I let Rogue take a turn. To my surprise, it only took three attempts before it consistently sorted the clothes with precision. To confirm its capability, I tested Rogue further by having it sort food based on color. It succeeded effortlessly on the first try. This led me to theorize that, along with reflecting aspects of my own attributes, my summons might also inherit an elevated intelligence¡ªpotentially equivalent to that of a small child¡¯s¡ªbased on my own mental capacity. With continued puzzles and training, I¡¯m confident Rogue could become even smarter, perhaps reaching the cognitive level of a teenager. Raising Rogue¡¯s intelligence mainly affects how complex my orders can be. But whether it can act independently¡ªmoving and thinking on its own¡ªdepends entirely on its experience and practical skills, like navigating obstacles. One glaring issue is that I can¡¯t give Rogue a specific order to avoid every single obstacle it encounters. It has to learn how to escape and avoid dangers on its own. That¡¯s why Sys and I started training it with races around the house. At first, it was a challenge. Rogue would frequently stop mid-race, waiting for new orders. Realizing it needed another example, I decided to crawl alongside it, instructing it to mimic my movements. I led the way under tables, around piles of clutter, and carefully avoided walls, wet spots, and the edges of furniture. Fortunately, this hands-on demonstration seemed to click with Rogue¡ªit began avoiding obstacles on its own without needing specific commands. This became a regular part of its training, and eventually, Rogue managed to complete an entire lap around the course independently. The first time, however, it took a painstaking 10 minutes because Rogue kept getting distracted by the smell of food. Fortunately, Sys has been assigning quests for every milestone I¡¯ve achieved so far. The rewards aren¡¯t anything extraordinary, given the simplicity of some tasks¡ªlike the recent ¡°Finish under 1 minute¡± quest¡ªbut they¡¯re definitely helpful. The more significant quests, however, come with larger rewards. Tasks such as ¡°Absorb your first soul¡± and ¡°Summon your first soul¡± are the ones that really boost my level at a much faster rate. As I mentioned earlier, mana is essential for keeping summoned souls obedient to my commands. These quests have been instrumental in enhancing the efficiency of my training, allowing me to improve both Rogue¡¯s abilities and my own mana control more effectively. So, why am I putting in all this effort? Well, remember the problem I had with finding more souls to absorb, aside from the insects? That¡¯s all about to change because I¡¯ve come up with a new plan. But for it to work, I need Rogue to be ready. I need Rogue to master running and escaping, to be completely independent of my commands when it comes to avoiding dangers. And now, after this stellar performance, I think it¡¯s time. What are you going to do about Merrol? ¡°I¡¯ll think of something.¡± Since I needed to keep Mom¡¯s attention away from Rogue and its role in the plan, all I had to do was divert her focus onto me. As long as I could keep her distracted, and if Rogue could successfully secure the prey, everything would fall into place perfectly. Real comforting. I recalled Rogue and the ants back into my soul. Recalling souls isn¡¯t too different from absorbing them, but instead of being fully absorbed, they¡¯re ¡°saved¡± like an online template within the shell of my soul. While in this state, my summons seem to just wait, ready to be called upon at any moment. Of course, calling them back isn¡¯t quite like an online template¡ªit¡¯s not as if all of Rogue¡¯s progress would be lost. To make things simpler, think of each recall as an ¡°update¡± to the template, meaning all of Rogue¡¯s training and experience is saved. Now, what happens if I summon more than one Rogue? Would I have two with the same knowledge and experience? Honestly, I¡¯m not sure. Sys mentioned it could be possible, but it¡¯s also possible I¡¯d need to absorb more rats to create separate templates for each summoned one. Also, I¡¯d need more mana to summon more than one at a time. In short, I won¡¯t know until I absorb more rats, which, in a way, is the real goal of this plan... sort of. I exited the bedroom, grabbing my slingshot as I made my way to the front door. Before stepping outside, I made sure to glance out quickly. Seeing Mom busy tending to the garden, I cautiously opened the door. I crouched down and silently resummoned Rogue. I mentally relayed the plan, and Rogue responded with a quick nod before slipping out into the shadows. It was mid-afternoon, and I had at most an hour or two before Arthur, Elaine, and Dad would return home. Once Rogue was out of sight, leaving the slingshot behind, I fully opened the door and moved toward the garden. As I walked, my eyes briefly passed over a tall, solitary tree. Its sturdy branches seemed empty, almost as though they once held something. The traces of a yellow substance splattered on the branches and lower part of the trunk only confirmed this assumption. But upon closer inspection, I noticed an occasional bee zipping by, beginning to rebuild what appeared to be the beginnings of a new hive. Even bees could rebuild from such a state like this. Pretty cool. Arriving at the garden, I picked up the small watering can. Mom was surprised but pleased to see me helping out. The two of us watered the crops in peaceful silence, with Mom occasionally quizzing me on simple, childish topics like math problems and animal questions. It was a calm, quiet moment, and it gave me plenty of time to think. As I watered the plants, I noticed something troubling¡ªsome of the crops weren¡¯t as plentiful as they used to be. Many of them looked like they were going to yield less, which probably explained the worry I¡¯d been seeing on Mom¡¯s face. It was clear that the cause of this was the disappearance of the bees¡¯ pollination¡­¡­.as in, me. But, I didn¡¯t have time to worry about that. For now, I needed to focus on the plan¡­¡­..But, if it did turn into something worthy of concern, then I supposed I would have to do something about it. What exactly am I waiting for here? Well, the solution to my problem of gaining more mana is simple: gain more souls. The challenge, however, is the process of acquiring them. I can''t just create more traps or elaborate plans around them, as that would become inefficient and far too risky with my family constantly watching. So, I needed to come up with a different approach. What if, instead of targeting rats directly, I focused on a creature that could hunt them for me? If I used this creature, I could passively collect souls, all while keeping my actions hidden from my family. Minutes ticked by, and the number of crops that needed watering was dwindling. A slight worry crept into my thoughts as I wondered how much longer Rogue would take. My eyes kept darting toward the small fallen log near the outhouse¡ªthe spot where Rogue should be appearing soon. But with no sign of it yet, I realized I needed to stall Mom. Thinking quickly, I yelped in pain, then hurried over to her. Instantly, she stopped what she was doing and rushed to my aid. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I pointed to my leg. ¡°Bite.¡± She examined my leg, but she found nothing. ¡°Are you sure?¡± I pointed back to the crops that I was near. ¡°Rat.¡± Like hell that¡¯s going to work. Mom¡¯s eyes widened. She then got down as she started searching within the crops. Bruh. I quickly glanced back at the log. Still, nothing. But then, I noticed a shadow passing over the trees nearby. I couldn''t help but smile¡ªit seemed like everything was going according to plan. I squinted, watching closely as the bushes rustled. Out of them sprang Rogue, darting towards the log. But right behind it, something unexpected followed. A small... hawk? I froze, both startled and intrigued. I had been expecting something smaller, like a sparrow or crow. But, a hawk? This was an incredible surprise. I hadn''t planned for it, but I wouldn''t complain. A hawk was a perfect find. Rogue sped ahead, sprinting with all its might, then slid and swiftly maneuvered left, diving into the log. The hawk, just a hair too slow, missed Rogue, and began pecking at the log¡¯s holes. Perfect.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°Mom, pee.¡± ¡°Be careful.¡± Mom voiced while still searching for the rat. I rushed to the front door, still holding the watering can. Picking up the slingshot, I moved quickly toward a nearby tree, eyes fixed on the log. The hawk was still there, perched patiently, waiting for Rogue to make a mistake. Its black wings gleamed in the sunlight, the white underside contrasting with a brown stomach and golden beak. A sharp-shinned hawk? I couldn¡¯t be certain from this distance. I quietly readied my slingshot, ensuring the rocks were smooth and not too sharp. Crouching, I steadied my arms on my knee, taking careful aim at the hawk. Oddly, it wasn¡¯t paying attention to the log anymore, its gaze fixed on the sun. I made sure Mom was still preoccupied and the hawk remained still. With a quiet exhale, I let the rock fly. It shot out like a rocket, whizzing through the air and striking the hawk¡¯s head with a sharp crack. On cue, the bird collapsed, its black wings folding around itself. I quickly set the slingshot down and rushed over to the log. Before continuing, I gave Rogue a new task. The rat scurried off toward the garden, to fully distract Mom. I opened the outhouse door, bringing the hawk and the watering can inside. I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath¡­ which probably wasn¡¯t the best idea, considering the air in the outhouse. Oh, please hurry up. It smells rank here. ¡°You¡¯re not even capable of smelling.¡± That says a lot about this outhouse. Placing the water can on the ground, I pinched my nose with my left arm, and I grabbed the hawk¡¯s head with my right. I then submerged the hawk¡¯s head into the watering can, attempting to drown it. Of course, drowning isn¡¯t a particularly ¡°fast¡± process, so that meant I would have to be in here, for up to around 5 minutes. Thankfully, since my slingshot had knocked it out, the hawk shouldn¡¯t wake up and cause any more problems. The only possible problem that could arise is if Mom were to notice how long I¡¯ve been and come to check up on me, but Rogue should take care of that. So, for now, all we can do is wait. I¡¯ll skip ahead for us. No need to thank me. Somehow, I managed to hold out. There were some instances where I was close to¡­¡­expelling my stomach contents, but nevermind that. I checked the heartbeat of the hawk and was pleasantly surprised when it finally stopped. About time. Entering soul sense, I began the soul absorption process. Now, I could instantly find the soul, so I once again used my siphoning technique. It took a while, considering how much larger the hawk¡¯s soul was compared to the rat¡¯s. Little by little, the shell started dispersing, until finally, a book appeared. This time, I was ready. I took hold of the book¡­¡­.. It was black again. Rough, cold winds battered against me, but the warmth of large, protective wings shielded me from the harsh gusts. I could hear the high-pitched whines of other birds, and I tried to mimic them. All that escaped from me was a soft squeal, a sound that was lost in the fierce wind. But what wasn¡¯t lost was the shrill whistle of what I assumed to be a larger hawk, swooping down onto the nest. The nest vibrated as it landed, and then the hawk forcefully fed me worms. It tasted horrible. My eyes opened to the sight of a large nest, filled with juvenile hawks, all hopping and gliding around. I tried to join them, but my body wasn¡¯t strong enough yet. I could only sit and watch, the runt of the nest, the youngest of them all. I sat there, both in jealousy and awe, as a few siblings attempted to fly off the nest¡ªand actually succeeded. They flapped their wings with everything they had, rising higher and higher, until they hovered above me. Then, with a swift beat of their wings, they flew off, weaving through the thick trees, riding the rough wind as though it was nothing more than a gentle breeze. They were masters of the wind, and they knew it. They kept going, heading toward the orange, setting sun, until they became nothing but specks in the distance. They were free. Free from the shackles that weighed down those of us on the ground. Free from the constraints of the nest. They were above me. They were above it all. I wanted to be like them. Time passed, and I could feel new strength coursing through my body. My wings were fully covered in feathers now, and my legs were finally strong enough to support my weight. I could walk, hop, and glide with ease. The act of flying still eluded me, but I could feel it on the horizon¡ªwithin my grasp, just waiting for the right moment. The nest was now empty, save for me and my parents. Everyone else had already flown off, venturing out into the world. They had left me behind, but that was okay. I will catch up. I would see the same sights they had seen. I would master the wind, just like they did. And when that time came, I would reach the sun, just like they had. I will fly. I could feel it now¡ªthe surge of strength, the confidence, the certainty that this was the moment. My wings, black and sharp, were ready. With a determined screech, I let out a sound that sharpened my focus. My parents were watching closely, prepared to intervene if needed, but I wasn¡¯t going to need them. I have come too far to fail now. I took a few steps, then walked to the edge of the nest. My heart pounded. Without hesitating, I leapt into the open air. The wind slapped against me, pulling at my body. Panic surged through me, my talons scraping at empty air as my wings flapped frantically. I could hear my parents¡¯ cries of concern, but I pushed the thought away. This was my moment, and I wasn¡¯t going to be saved. I would succeed on my own. My instincts kicked in, guiding my wings to catch the wind beneath me. The rush of air stopped my fall, and I quickly adjusted my legs, finding stability. I was gliding. The wind, once a force against me, was now my ally. I felt its power beneath me, supporting me. I raised my wings, flapping harder, pushing myself higher and higher. My nest, my parents, everything below me became a distant memory as I soared. The wind, once uncontrollable, now obeyed me. I was the one in charge. The sun was setting, casting golden light across the sky, just as it had when I watched my siblings take flight. I set my eyes on the horizon and flew towards it. I was no longer tethered to the nest. I was free, like they had been. And with that, I soared the skies. I zipped through the trees, the wind under my wings, as I closed in on my prey. A small marsupial darted between the bushes, its movements swift, but not swift enough. I barrel rolled through the branches, my wings cutting through the air with precision. I could see its path¡ªknew exactly where it was going. I flapped faster, adrenaline pulsing through me. I was ready. The creature darted into another bush, but it didn¡¯t matter. I had already predicted its move. With a sharp extension of my talons, I grabbed it, pinning it to the ground. Its feeble cries echoed in my ears, but I didn¡¯t hesitate. In one swift motion, I silenced it, swallowing the remains in one gulp. The hunt was over, and I soared back up into the sky. My new nest awaited me, empty and barren. It stood alone, a collection of scattered sticks in a lifeless place. I perched there, looking at the horizon, the sun dipping below the trees. Once, it had been a symbol of promise, of something beautiful, but now, it was just another reminder of the loneliness that surrounded me. Another day gone, the same as the last. What changed? The nest was small, dirty, and a little worn, but it was mine. A lonely place, but it was home. When I wasn¡¯t hunting, I would find myself perched here, staring off into the vast distance. Today, my gaze caught two hawks mid-fight, their talons slashing through the air as they battled, pecking each other¡¯s wings, tearing at each other¡¯s faces. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was over food, territory, or mates¡ªit didn¡¯t matter. Hawks weren¡¯t known for their socializing. We were solitary creatures, hunting for ourselves, living for ourselves. I hadn¡¯t seen my family in a long while. Whenever I found my siblings and I tried to approach them, they reacted as if I wasn¡¯t their kin at all¡ªtalons bared, hissing in warning. My parents treated me the same way. They didn¡¯t care that I was their child. They would drive me out like I was a hostile intruder¡­¡­¡­¡­.I saw that they had new hatchlings¡­¡­.They replaced us. I should probably stop now. I should stop trying to approach them, stop trying to be part of something. I wasn¡¯t wanted. So I stayed alone, watching the world from my perch, hunting when I was hungry, keeping to myself when I wasn¡¯t. Maybe it was better that way. But, why do hawks have to be solitary creatures? I was hunting again. After hours of searching, I finally spotted something small¡ªis that a rat?.......Wait, no, it¡¯s blue¡­¡­What is this thing? I didn¡¯t care anymore. My hunger took over. I crouched, staying hidden in the leaves, and began following it silently. The rat must have sensed me because it picked up speed and dashed off. I wasn¡¯t about to let it escape, so I matched its pace, my talons at the ready. The rat confused me, not only of its color, but because of its usage of zig zag movement and quick turns. Was it even worth it?........I don¡¯t know. However, to my surprise, the rat started to slow down. I was closing in on it. Almost there¡­¡­¡­Just a little more¡­¡­¡­.But at the last second, it twisted, leaping into a fallen log. I landed right beside it, pecking at the holes, but the inside was too narrow for me to get in. I hopped to the other side, trying to find another way in. But nothing. It was too small. I could only wait. ¡­¡­¡­¡­..No. Why do I have to wait? I''m a hawk, a master of the wind. I can go anywhere, no limits. I''m free from the burdens of those stuck on the ground. So why should I endure this? Why be forced to hunt this small rat, trapped in a log, when I have the power to fly anywhere? Why settle for such trivial prey, only to return to an empty nest? What¡¯s the point of all this effort? What¡¯s the point of hunting, of flying? Why did I even choose to learn to fly if this was what awaited me?........... I looked up at the sun. It wasn¡¯t setting, it was high in the sky, unreachable. No matter how hard I flew, it would always be too far. Not even the wind could take me to it. It was beyond my grasp, something I could only observe, never touch¡­¡­¡­.Is that why it felt like it was laughing at m- Something struck me, I¡¯m sure of it. What exactly, though, I don¡¯t know. But it doesn¡¯t matter. Why? Because I¡¯m drowning. Even if I could remember what happened, it wouldn¡¯t change anything. I was going to die here. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn¡¯t move¡­¡­¡­¡­This feeling, I know it all too well. The cold, harsh water filled my lungs, much like the wind that almost carried me away. But unlike the wind, I had no control over the water¡­¡­..I suppose I got too caught up with what was above¡ªthe sun and my family¡ªthat I grew too arrogant and neglected what was below me. I underestimated those below me. I underestimated their strength, their resolve, and just how powerful the water truly is. I thought that my ability to fly freed me from such dangers, but it never did. All it did was shift my focus upward. It distracted me from the truth¡ªthat I shared the same shackles as those below. In fact, I was worse off. They knew their limits and thrived within them, while I, blinded by my flight, thought the sun was within reach. I was a fool. I was a slave, but I never realized it until now¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­At least, I suppose, I should be grateful that I now acknowledge this, in the last breaths of my life¡­ but is that enough? Is there something else I¡¯ve overlooked? A secret my wings kept hidden from me?............ Ah, that¡¯s it. My main reason for flying, the reason behind my attempts to reconnect with my family, and my confusion about the hawk¡¯s solitary nature... Back then, when I saw the backs of my siblings as they flew off into the sun... I always thought it was the sun I wanted to reach. But, it wasn¡¯t. It was my siblings. They were the limit I had been so desperately trying to reach. My parents were the wings I trusted to help me catch up, but they were actually the shackles that trapped me in the first place. Is that it then? Did I... want to catch up with them?......Did I¡­.not want to be left behind?............That¡¯s it. I flew, not because of the sun, but because I wanted to be with them¡­¡­¡­¡­.But that could never happen. In the back of my mind, I always knew that. Even when I spent hours searching the forest for them, I knew there was no point. There was no purpose in trying to reconnect with them. Why? Because we¡¯re hawks. My eyes shot open. My head flared with pain, as I tried to stop myself from vomiting. That Original Insight¡­¡­felt much more¡­..in sync that time. It felt like¡­..my own personal words came out. Deep breaths. I did as Sys said¡­¡­.which again, I probably should not have, since I was in an outhouse. Unfortunately, this just enhanced my urge to vomit more, which ended up becoming reality. However, I couldn¡¯t just stay still, so I mustered the strength to open the door. Squinting through the haze, I checked to make sure Mom was still in the garden. Once I saw she was, I stumbled out, leaving the hawk just outside the log. After cleaning myself up with the watering can, I noticed Rogue standing beside the log. I patted it and praised it for a job well done before recalling it and walking toward Mom. I tried to act normal, resuming my task of watering, but that¡¯s when she mentioned I smelled strange. I must have forgotten that I¡¯d reek of shit. An improvement, if you ask me. ¡°That¡¯s why no one asked you, so shut up.¡± That¡¯s why you smell like shit, so shut up. ¡°That¡¯s why¡­¡­damn.¡± Yeah, that¡¯s right. But, anyway, good job. Now that you finished that quest, not only do you get more experience, but I also gained a new ability for you to use. ¡°Really? What is it?¡± You get your very own pocket-space inventory. If you have any belongings, just drop them in and you can get them back whenever. ¡­¡­Wait, what the fuck? That¡¯s actually so stupidly overpowered right now. ¡°Sys, no way. Swear on it.¡± Ong. ¡°Holy shit. You¡¯re finally useful!¡± Yeah, okay, buddy. You still smell like shit. Racing To The Finish Line LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IT¡¯S BEEN ANOTHER WEEK SINCE THE LAST ACCOUNT, BUT WHATEVER THE CASE, IT¡¯S TIME FOR ANOTHER RACE. ON THE LEFT SIDE- Yeah, sorry, I know Sys is a bit loud, so I¡¯ll just cut him out. Like Sys said, it¡¯s been another week, but we¡¯ll get back to it. Right now, we have a race at hand. Nightclaw and Rogue took their positions, each poised for the impending race. Nightclaw''s obsidian body, sleek and shadowed, reflected its singular purpose: to catch Rogue before it could reach the finish line. The hawk¡¯s form glowed with an eerie light, a soft blue radiance that was interwoven with streaks of purple. The mysterious intricate black patterns littered the back, revealing its true identity, my new summon. I got my bets on Rogue. ¡°I got mine on Nightclaw¡­... .since everything would be for nothing if it still can¡¯t catch Rogue.¡± The two spectral creatures¡¯ bodies tightened, as Sys began the countdown. 3¡­¡­.2¡­¡­1¡­¡­Go! Rogue surged forward like a streak of black lightning, vanishing into the distance and leaving Nightclaw in the dust. It nimbly weaved around piles of clothes, slipping through the bedroom door with ease, showing no sign of slowing. But Nightclaw was ready. It leapt into the air, attempting a graceful barrel roll through the door, its flight allowing it to bypass the obstacles below. However, as it neared, I began closing the door. The sky held its own obstacles. Yet, Nightclaw was undeterred, soaring through the narrowing gap with skillful finesse. Now, the race was on¡ªcould Nightclaw close the distance and subdue Rogue? On the other side, it was evident that Rogue had perfected the art of running and evading. The obstacles I had so carefully arranged seemed utterly ineffective. Despite the wet spots, scattered chairs, piles of clothing, and even strategically placed food intended to distract it, Rogue breezed through the course without a sweat. It leapt effortlessly over the clothing, drifted around the wet patches with a graceful swerve, and nimbly squeezed between the narrow gaps between chair legs. Watching it, it was as if Rogue was speed-running the entire course. Then came Nightclaw. As soon as it saw Rogue darting beneath the chairs, Nightclaw took immediate action, soaring above them. Using its sharp instincts and keen reasoning, it anticipated where Rogue would emerge. It lowered itself, targeting the right end of the chair, since the other openings were blocked by even more obstacles. If I could imagine Nightclaw¡¯s thought process, I¡¯d guess that it took into account Rogue''s desire to finish this as quickly as possible, which meant that Rogue would take the fastest route: a route that had the least obstacles, the right end. Nightclaw''s theory was proven correct when Rogue appeared exactly where it had predicted. But Nightclaw wasn¡¯t the only one capable of thinking this far. Rogue had also prepared for this. Just before Nightclaw could pounce, Rogue executed a swift roll, narrowly avoiding the grasp of Nightclaw¡¯s talons. Nightclaw barely managed to pull up in time to avoid crashing to the ground, its mind scrambling to reassess the situation. But before it could fully recover, Rogue darted off once more, leaving Nightclaw behind once again. Looks like it¡¯s another loss for Nightclaw. It looked like Sys was right¡­¡­.but I had an inkling that this was going to be different. I peeked at Nightclaw as it got back up in the sky. Rogue is much faster and more experienced than you. It¡¯s been training in this course for a much longer time now. It¡¯s even evaded a hawk in the wild before, while this is your first real attempt at catching a rat¡­¡­¡­.With all that in mind, how do you plan on catching Rogue, Nightclaw? Rogue¡¯s speed was beyond what my eyes could track. It zipped through the doorways of my siblings'' room, easily sidestepping obstacles, all while maintaining an astonishing pace. With effortless grace, it exited the room and darted back into mine. Just for a fleeting moment, Rogue glanced over its shoulder to check on Nightclaw¡¯s whereabouts. Seeing that Nightclaw was nowhere near¡­¡­¡­did it smile? It shifted its gaze to the finish line, then lunged toward it. But then, something remarkable occurred. You see, rats have poor, near-sight vision. Their eyes are only capable of seeing up to four feet away from them. Anything beyond this limit is too blurry for a rat to accurately see. Rogue, due to being my personal summon, has, in comparison, a much more exceptional eyesight. It has the ability to detect predators and obstacles within a 20-foot radius, which is much better than the near-sight vision of an average rat. With superior physical and mental attributes, it seemed obvious that Nightclaw would struggle to catch it. That was until Rogue¡¯s sharp gaze caught, just on the edge of its vision, the form of Nightclaw leaping out from a pile of clothing to its right. In that brief moment, I could feel Rogue¡¯s soul tremble. Rogue, for the first time, felt the true fear of a rat¡­.the fear of a prey. Nightclaw emerged victorious from within the pile, as the sight of Rogue within its claws burned itself into my mind. ¡­¡­What the fuck? A small smile crept on my face as I gazed at Nightclaw. No, no, no, no, no, no. What just happened? Wasn¡¯t Nightclaw just in the kitchen, when Rogue completely left it way behind? ¡°It did¡­¡­which is why it gave up on trying to catch up with Rogue.¡± ¡­..What? Nightclaw initiated the suffocation process, its left talon pressing firmly against Rogue''s chest to restrict its breathing. Its beak clamped down on Rogue¡¯s mouth and nostrils, sealing off the airways completely. Meanwhile, Nightclaw¡¯s right talon ensnared Rogue¡¯s entire body, immobilizing the struggling creature with precision and force. ¡°It knew it couldn¡¯t beat Rogue in a battle of pure speed. It¡¯s known that for a while, considering how many mock races they¡¯ve done now. In an all-out race, Rogue¡¯s speed was simply too much to surpass.¡± Rogue tried to break free of Nightclaw¡¯s grasp, but the strength between prey and predator was too much to even dream of overcoming. ¡°However, it knew another thing.¡± Knew what? ¡°It knew where Rogue would end up. It knew¡­..Rogue¡¯s entire journey. It knew Rogue¡¯s final destination.¡± Rogue¡¯s futile efforts began to slow down, as it began to stop struggling. ¡°Instead of trying to catch up with Rogue, Nightclaw opted to wait. It devised a plan¡ªsimple yet effective. It knew that Rogue, who was focused on finishing fast and dodging obstacles, wouldn¡¯t pay attention to an unusually large pile of clothes. It anticipated that Rogue would glance back, and lower its guard upon the wrong realization of Nightclaw¡¯sl true whereabouts. It knew exactly where Rogue was going to end up¡­¡­.the finishing line. So, Nightclaw retreated, allowing Rogue to navigate the course unpressured. It returned to the finish line, the very point where everything had begun. There, it concealed itself within a pile just close enough to the line. And so, it waited¡ªsilent, patient, sharpening its talons. Rogue, convinced he had outrun the threat of Nightclaw, remained blissfully unaware that, all along, he was still within the reach of Nightclaw¡¯s grasp.¡± Holy shit. And with that, Rogue¡¯s body collapsed, and Nightclaw let go, to reveal the unconscious body of Rogue¡­¡­except, it wasn¡¯t really unconscious, it just played dead. My summons don¡¯t have lungs. Rogue got back up as it looked up at Nightclaw. Nightclaw looked back, and the two of them just stared at each other¡­¡­..Were they communicating somehow? Ok wait, but did Nightclaw really win? I mean, this is very situational. Like we just saw, Rogue¡¯s speed was simply too fast for Nightclaw to match. The fact that Nightclaw could come up with that is insane, but to actually execute that within a forest isn¡¯t plausible. There¡¯s far too many unknown variables. ¡°You¡¯re right¡­..on only one thing. Nightclaw is slower than Rogue, but that¡¯s to be expected. Rogue has been training for far too many weeks for Nightclaw to catch up. But, that¡¯s not the same for the other animals within the forest. Rogue is simply faster than probably most animals in there. In terms of pure speed, Nightclaw has been ready for a long time now.¡± Then, why have you continued into making them race? ¡°I wasn¡¯t satisfied with just speed. I wanted Nightclaw to gain something else, to learn something from these mock races. I wanted it to be capable of catching creatures without relying solely on just speed. If it could eventually catch Rogue, even with the speed difference, then I was sure that whatever it gained, would be enough for practically any creature within the forest. That it would be ready to hunt anything. That it would become ¡°The Perfect Predator.¡± ¡­¡­.Woah. I praised Nightclaw for a job well done, scratching its chin and gently ruffling its feathers. Rogue seemed a bit jealous, letting out a few squeaks in protest. So, I acknowledged Rogue''s effort, praising it for nearly making it all the way, and gave its small belly a soft rub. As I reflected on both, I began preparing for the next phase of the plan. With Nightclaw now proven to be ready, it was time to move forward.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Oh, here comes Merrol. Mom came bustling in the room, primitive broom in one hand, and cleaning rags in the other. ¡°Beric, I thought I told you to stop messing with the clothes and leaving them everywhere.¡± How are you gonna get out of this one? ¡°Sorry, mama.¡± I wore the most pitiful puppy-dog eyes I could muster, quivering my lips to the fullest. ¡­¡­Of course. ¡°Oh, how could I be mad at you?¡± Merrol got down as she pulled me into a tight squeeze¡­¡­.except it was kinda too tight. Is this what the animals would later feel like? After gently patting Mom on the back, she finally let go and, before briefly telling me once again to be tidy, exited the room. One advantage of being one year old is that messiness is one of my defining traits, even though I¡¯m unusually responsible for my age. I can set up mock races whenever I please, racing my summons out of Mom¡¯s sight, and then let her clean up the mess afterward. After all, she thinks it¡¯s just me being a baby. Good grief. How selfish can you be, to call Merrol whenever you wish to, to make her clean up after you? ¡°.........Weren¡¯t you the one who told me I can do that? Like, when you first talked to me?¡± Hey, so, how about you explain your plan to me? ¡°Real slick. But, can¡¯t you just read my mind to-¡± Blah blah blah. I¡¯m hearing too much nonsense and not enough explanations ¡°Alright.¡± Well, like Sys said, I¡¯ll explain what I¡¯m trying to do here. As I pondered how to acquire larger souls to absorb, I realized I had been approaching the problem all wrong. I had been focused on direct methods when I actually had indirect means available. I didn¡¯t need to personally hunt rats and other creatures; instead, I could absorb the soul of a creature that could do the hunting for me. At first, I considered using Rogue to hunt other rats, but Rogue''s strength wasn''t much greater than that of a typical rat. A confrontation between the two could easily lead to bloodshed, which would leave a trail back to my home. I wanted to avoid that, so I thought of another solution: suffocation. I needed a way to render my targets unconscious without causing any bloodshed, making it easier to finish them off without leaving a trace. Rogue wasn¡¯t suited for this, since even killing other rats was a challenge, let alone incapacitating them without bloodshed. That¡¯s when I came up with my current plan: a bird. A bird would have superior mobility, better eyesight, and the ability to knock out the critters safely and efficiently. All I needed to do was find the opportunity to absorb the soul of one, and teach it the proper means. I have to admit, I was somewhat skeptical about whether I could fully tame the hawk. Given that it was a much larger creature than the rat, I assumed it would take longer to bend it to my will. Surprisingly, I was wrong. The hawk responded much more readily to my warm treatment, and it obeyed my commands faster than expected¡­¡­¡­Perhaps that feeling I experienced during that Original Insight meant something?........... But, I don¡¯t know for sure, and neither does Sys¡ªthough, that¡¯s hardly surprising. Hey. Now, there was a small problem. If everything went according to plan, and Nightclaw hunted a rat, captured it, put it to sleep without causing any bloodshed, and brought it back to me, how would I kill it and dispose of the body? Thankfully, after I gained an inventory after absorbing Nightclaw¡¯s soul, a simple answer arose. All I needed to do was have Nightclaw finish it off through asphyxiation, then I¡¯d store the body in my inventory. It looks like I saved your ass once again. ¡°......Ok.¡± As for my family, I don''t have to worry much. Mom is too preoccupied with cleaning the house, and the others are out, busy with their own affairs. I can use soul sense to track Mom''s movements and ensure she doesn¡¯t get too close, so I should be free from any interruptions. Summoning Nightclaw again, I silently issued the command to hunt any small creature, subdue it, render it unconscious, and return it to me unharmed¡ªall while avoiding detection by any humans. Nightclaw responded with a soft cry, then leapt out the window, performing a barrel roll in midair before disappearing from view. Nightclaw¡¯s kind of a show-off. I got comfortable on the bed, laying my head down. Now, we wait. ¡°Got any ideas on how to pass the time?¡± Sure. We can sing a song. 99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it around, 98 bottles of beer on the wall. ¡°98 bottles of beer on the wall, 98 bottles of beer. Take one down and-¡± Time skip. Again, you¡¯re welcome. By the 75th rendition of the song, I heard the faint flutter of a winged creature approaching my window. There¡¯s no way that¡¯s Nightclaw. It¡¯s only been 3 minutes. I propped myself up on the bed and poked my head out the window. I nearly jumped back in surprise when Nightclaw came hurtling through the window. It pulled up just before colliding with the wall, coming to a smooth, controlled stop. Slowly, it descended to the ground, and its talons revealed the unconscious body of a dark gray rat. This is¡­¡­interesting. I wasn¡¯t expecting Nightclaw to show results this fast. But, it¡¯s also alarming. ¡°Yeah.¡± Sys is right, since now a new problem arises. If Nightclaw was capable of hunting this fast, then would it be possible if Nightclaw would end up overhunting? The forest that encompasses ¡°Lurindell¡± is roughly 3000 acres in size, a comparatively small forest to the other forests within the region. If I try to estimate approximately how many animals are within this forest¡­¡­¡­.it would come up in the hundred thousands, but all of them are capable of being hunted by Nightclaw. If Nightclaw overextends and hunts too many and destroys the natural balance, then there would be a possible extinction of the local animal life. If that happens¡­¡­then the other villagers could lose their main sources of food, resources, and income. What are you talking about? ¡­.? If Nightclaw hunts too much, then the village as a whole would suffer from the repercussions. Why are you still allowing other lives to interfere with your own? ¡­¡­.Shit. It¡¯s you, isn¡¯t it?...... The Corrupt Voice. Weren¡¯t you the one who stated you would do anything for your goal? Of getting stronger? Shut up. The goal that you so dearly wished for, that you were willing to abandon both family and friends. And yet, what¡¯s this? You still allow the villagers, villagers who you don¡¯t even know, to influence your decision? Are you really going to let the invisible voices control you even in this life? Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. And it¡¯s not even just the invisible voices. What about this new family of yours, oh wait. My apologies. This ¡°fake¡± family of Beric¡¯s that you took over like a parasite. What about them? Did you forget how your plan almost failed because you chose to be swayed by the words of Merrol, and that you forsook progress just to guarantee Arthur and Elaine¡¯s survival, out of what? Guilt? Please¡­¡­.be quiet. Do you know why you still falter? Do you know why, despite the strong beliefs you have about freedom, you still consciously allow your choices to be affected by others? ¡­¡­¡­¡­ You decided to befriend your summons, and for what? Just to feel a little less lonely? Because you fear making friends with the other villagers? If that¡¯s so, then why do you choose to entertain the thought of getting close with this family, when you know that you took away their true son? Do you know why? ¡­¡­¡­¡­. It¡¯s because you¡¯re a hypocrite. You preach the feeling of being free, yet you still willingly wear the shackles of society. You occasionally wonder about the whereabouts of the real Beric, yet you unashamedly treat this family as your own. And even with that, you still commit acts that put them into harm¡¯s way, all for the goal of becoming stronger. What will it take for you to choose a side? ¡­¡­¡­.. What will it take for you to wake up? ¡­¡­.Shut the hell up. Beric? My eyes shot wide open. The first thing I noticed was that my hands were gripping my hair tightly, covering my face. I let go and pulled my hands away, only to find that nothing had really changed. Nightclaw remained on the ground, the unconscious rat still firmly held in its talons. Are you okay? You suddenly went quiet for a little bit. ¡°Uh¡­yeah. I¡¯m fine. I was just¡­..thinking about how to prevent overhunting.¡± Are you sure? Your vitals were spiking. ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± ¡­¡­¡­Alright. I got off the bed and walked over to Nightclaw. After Nightclaw removed its talons, I started soul absorption. This time, things were much quicker, and like I had thought, there was no Original Insight. It¡¯s not anything crazy, but this is definitely much more than from just meditating. ¡°Inventory.¡± A game-like inventory appeared, showcasing lines of empty squares, aside from a square that contained the dead body of a hawk. I moved the rat to a square, and I promptly closed it. So, how are you going to deal with Nightclaw? ¡°I have an idea.¡± I knelt down to get on the same level as Nightclaw. ¡°Nightclaw, I have one more special order for you.¡± Nightclaw leaned its head in a quizzical like motion. ¡°You can target any animal within your hunting ability, but don¡¯t focus on specific types. If you spot a rat and, say, a rabbit, go for the rabbit. Always aim to diversify your hunt, rather than going after the first thing you see. Lastly, avoid groups as much as you can. Seek out only solitary creatures and focus on them instead. Understood?¡± Nightclaw cooed in response. I stroked its chin and sent it off. Nightclaw soared back into the air, in search of new prey. The Perfect Predator was back on the prowl. I suppose that¡¯s the current best move given our situation. However, you will have to come up with a new means if Nightclaw ever becomes dangerously close to overhunting. ¡°Of course.¡±........But, if I was being honest, I wasn¡¯t really thinking about that. The Corrupt Voice¡¯s words were still ringing in my head. I was used to them by this point, but something was puzzling me. Was Sys not capable of hearing them too? And, was it also not capable of hearing my thoughts right now?.......Or maybe, Sys can¡¯t even pick up on thoughts concerning The Corrupt Voice¡­¡­¡­Back on Earth, I had originally pinned The Corrupt Voice as just an exaggerated form of an inner voice¡­¡­.but now, I question if The Corrupt Voice is something else entirely¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­. Which makes me wonder, why can you hear it? An Unanswerable Question The frigid air of the solitary cell grew sharper, like the slow, deliberate scrape of a beast''s claws against my flesh. The corroded, rust-streaked bars of the cell door seemed to press closer, cornering me and allowing my suspicions to prosper. The very walls felt animate, invading the miniscule amount of space I could call my own. Everything felt unnervingly off, and there was only one explanation: the Beric we''ve been following through this Narrative had committed an act so baffling, so inexplicable, that it defied my understanding. The Beric within this Narrative¡­¡­..spoke to me¡­¡­¡­to us. But how? For one, I have no memory of ever doing anything like this. We¡¯ve already established that this Narrative is directly drawn from my own life, yet it¡¯s riddled with inconsistencies¨CInconsistencies that either never happened, or that have been left out. I had assumed that it was due to malfunctions within Sys, but after the revelations of Death and the enigmatic entity known as ¡°Egoros,¡± it¡¯s clear that the Narrative has been deliberately tampered with. I initially theorized that this might be an "altered" version of my life, though the reasoning behind such manipulation remains unclear. Was it for entertainment? Out of sheer boredom? Or perhaps for a purpose far more sinister? And now, it¡¯s even more puzzling now that¡­¡­.Beric has acknowledged us. This raises far more unsettling questions. For instance, there have been moments when both Beric and Sys have spoken to us¡ªalbeit in a comedic, fourth-wall-breaking manner. At the time, I deemed these interactions to be off-hand remarks due to the playful nature... but now, I¡¯m not so sure. Even more baffling is why Beric chose this particular moment to act. Could it be tied to the Corrupt Voice?.......This does appear to be the first instance in Beric¡¯s life where the Corrupt Voice is loud and distinct enough to be heard¡­¡­¡­Yet, in my own life, the Corrupt Voice never manifested with this much intensity after my death on Earth¡­¡­.. Too many questions, and far too few answers¡­ I suppose it¡¯s up to us to piece this together. I can¡¯t turn to Sys for help since, ironically, one of the few accurate aspects of this Narrative is that my personal Sys is incapable of recognizing anything related to the Corrupt Voice. I¡¯ve tried countless subtle approaches¡ªhinting at the existence of another voice, crafting hypothetical stories about a protagonist with an inner voice¡­¡­¡­.and a second, malevolent one. Strange¡­¡­..it feels like I¡¯m forgetting something.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Whatever the case may be, one thing remains certain: I need your help¡­.But¡­ you probably can¡¯t help, can you? You¡¯re just a mute, invisible spectator, forced to listen to me ramble about all this¡­¡­.There¡¯s truly no real point in asking for your help, is there?.......... Strange, isn¡¯t it? A question only holds meaning when there¡¯s an answer to it. Yet, I still asked, fully aware I¡¯d be met with silence¡­¡­..However, I can¡¯t shake the hope that there¡¯s something we can do. Something you can do. Maybe you don¡¯t realize it yet, but if we keep listening¡ªkeep waiting¡ªmaybe, just maybe, an opportunity will arise. I have no idea what form it might take, but when it comes, I need you to act on it¡­¡­..¡­Sorry. I¡¯m putting too much on you, aren¡¯t I? Dragging you into all this, and now you¡¯re stuck worrying about some ¡°supposed¡± chance. What¡¯s up? Why did you want to pause it? ¡°Oh yeah uh¡­..go ahead and start it back up. I just needed a quick breather.¡± Oooookay. Hey. I¡¯m not exaggerating when I say this¡ªit all depends on you. I know you weren¡¯t expecting this, and I know you can¡¯t even respond, but I truly need your help. It doesn¡¯t matter who you are, where you¡¯re from, or why you¡¯ve chosen to keep listening to this. None of that changes the fact that you¡¯re here, hearing this. You found this recording for a reason. A reason that¡¯s likely too significant for you to simply dismiss me outright. Whether that reason stems from good intentions or something darker is beyond my ability to comprehend¡­¡­..But, to be honest, I have thought about confronting you regarding your true identity for a while now¡­¡­¡­ Am I wrong to distrust you?........Or are you wrong to trust me?.......Am I the wrong one?.........Or maybe is this suspicion towards myself the true goal of the manipulated Narrative?.........I don¡¯t know¡­¡­.And, I guess the only way to truly know is to keep listening¡­¡­.. But, before the Narrative starts up again, I have just one more question, a very simple one¡­¡­¡­.It¡¯s confirmed that Egoros has some level of influence over this Narration, though the extent remains unclear¡­¡­¡­.But would it then not be reasonable to consider the possibility that Egoros might also have control over this recording? If that¡¯s the case¡­ then surely, Egoros must know who¡ªor what¡ªthis recording is meant to reach, or who might accidentally discover it. Which then leads to my question, Why are you able to hear my story? Who are you? Beehive I¡¯ve never really been the best at drawing. Yeah, I can see that. ¡­¡­But for this to work, I must draw it to the best of my ability. I have a single sheet of paper and a pencil that Elaine gave me, and I plan to sketch a specific diagram. Why? Allow me to explain everything first. It¡¯s been a few more days, yet nothing has truly changed. Nightclaw has been preoccupied with hunting in the forest, giving me the opportunity to grow at a much faster pace. Level: 32 I didn¡¯t level up as much as I hoped, and the reason for that is simple: rain. For the past week, there¡¯s been at least one heavy downpour each day. Not light showers, but full-on rainstorms. Because of this, Nightclaw hasn¡¯t been able to hunt as much as I¡¯d wanted, and the bees couldn¡¯t safely rebuild their hive without getting battered by the rain. It became so severe that Dad had to use buckets and bowls to redirect the water away from the crops. Thankfully, the rain stopped two days ago, perhaps signaling some sunny days ahead... but this situation left me uneasy. The crops were clearly suffering. They were less bountiful and growing at a much slower rate. It was obvious the absence of bees was taking a toll. I had hoped the bees would be able to rebuild their hive, but I hadn¡¯t accounted for the persistent rain. At this rate, if the rain returned, the bees wouldn¡¯t be able to finish rebuilding. And without the bees doing their part in helping our crops thrive, our family¡¯s situation would continue to deteriorate: fewer crops, less food, and diminished income. By now, I realized I would have to take matters into my own hands. ¡­¡­By drawing? ¡°By sketching out the diagram of a Warre hive, a man-made beehive that beekeepers back on Earth use to help struggling bee colonies.¡± ¡­..Yeah, why not? This definitely sounds like a practical idea. A Warre hive is one of the simpler beehives to maintain. The structure consists of a stack of boxes, typically five, topped off with a slanted roof. The angle of the roof is designed to protect the bees and to ensure that rainwater falls off rather than pooling on top. There¡¯s also a small gap between the roof and the topmost box, allowing the bees to regulate the hive¡¯s temperature. Instead of frames, the Warre hive uses bars, enabling the bees to create their own combs. This design allows the beekeeper to do little more than replace the bottom box¡­¡­¡­If you actually care, the beekeeper typically adds empty boxes in the spring and harvests honey by the fall. Given the chill in the air and Sys¡¯ personal calendar, it¡¯s clear that this region is nearing the fall season. With all of that said, now all I need to do is to build it¡­¡­.which is¡­..not going well. This looks like a doctor¡¯s handwriting in drawing form. The sad thing was, I couldn¡¯t even refute Sys. This drawing of mine looked more like a police sketch. From what I can see, you tried to draw a beehive¡­¡­.but instead, you drew a skinny tower of squares, topped off by an uneven triangle, with half of the actual triangle missing¡­¡­¡­What the fuck is this? ¡°Fine.¡± I tried to fix it to the best of my ability, but before I finished, Mom came into the room. ¡°What are you doing, Beric?¡± Mom asked with a whimsical tone. ¡°Drawing.¡± I responded. Does this even count as drawing anymore? It feels more like murder. A tree¡¯s life was taken for this. Mom laid down on her stomach to mimic my position. She watched with an awkward look at what I was confidently drawing. ¡°Honey, what are you¡­..uhm, trying to draw?¡± Your own mom doesn¡¯t even know what she¡¯s looking at. ¡°Thanks for the useful input.¡± I paused, my hands stilling as I turned to look at Mom. Her eyes were still weary, but the faint glow in her green eyes lingered. "House." ¡°For who?¡± ¡°Bee.¡± ¡°The bees?¡± Looking closer at the drawing, she saw my attempts at drawing rain falling on the hive, and the¡­¡­. Say it. ¡­¡­The floating rocks with wings happily buzzing around within the hive. Lord have mercy. Mom figured it out by this point. ¡°You¡¯re drawing a house for the bees? To protect them from the rain?¡± I nodded my head, getting back to work¡­¡­¡­.if I was being honest, I felt kind of down that she couldn¡¯t even recognize my own drawing. ¡°You¡¯re so cute!¡± She suddenly attacked me, pulling me into a tight hug as she gushed over my pitiful drawing. For some odd reason, I could feel the silent, judging gaze of Sys. Mom suddenly got up and called for Dad. ¡°Lucian, hurry! Come look at what Beric drew.¡± Dang, she¡¯s gonna bring the entire family out. That¡¯s embarrassing as hell. Dad¡¯s heavy footsteps soon echoed, and within moments, his tall, sturdy frame appeared in the doorway. As always, his expression was neutral, but there was a subtle gleam in his eyes. ¡°Look, Beric drew a little house for the bees!¡± She snatched the paper from my grasp, which just left me speechless. Like damn, you couldn¡¯t let me show him myself? You would be fine with personally owning up to that drawing? ¡°.........I mean, no, but-¡± Dad carefully took the drawing from Mom¡¯s hands and glanced at what I had sketched. It was faint, but the hint of a small smile tugged at his lips. ¡°He even made the roof in a special way so the rain would fall off.¡± Mom added cheerfully. Dad¡¯s smile went away as he noticed what Mom pointed out. He looked back at me, something else other than a shine in his eyes now. ¡°I don¡¯t know what these arrows are for, along with all of these circles inside the combs.¡± Mom playfully pronounced with a quizzical look. ¡°......¡± Dad was silent, now studying the paper with a serious look. ¡°Is everything alright?¡± Mom finally noticed the shift in Dad¡¯s face. All I could do was wait¡­¡­though, I didn¡¯t like how things were going right now. ¡°This drawing¡­¡­..isn¡¯t just a drawing.¡± Dad finally said. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Mom didn¡¯t quite understand what Dad was alluding to. ¡°....The roof would actually work on diverting the rain away from the hive.¡± ¡°Well yeah, but so what?¡± ¡°.....The arrows at the bottom are used to show the moving of these bottom objects, boxes I¡¯m guessing. They¡¯re there to show that you replace the bottom boxes, and the circles within the comb represent the honey that culminates within the boxes.¡± ¡°....What?¡± ¡°.....This tower-like structure uses bars to act like combs for the bees to build upon, allowing them to naturally create both combs and honey¡­¡­.¡± He looked right at me. ¡°This drawing¡­¡­.is actually a blueprint for a makeshift hive.¡± Mom also looked at me, a look of wonder and astonishment. Huh, I¡¯m surprised he actually managed to get all of that. I guess things went well again, Beric¡­¡­¡­Beric? Beric, are you okay? I didn¡¯t know what Sys was talking about. I was perfectly fine. My drawing did its job, and Dad could see the true intent behind it. Why wouldn¡¯t I be fine? My plan worked¡­¡­..But, still¡­¡­Why do you have to look at me like that? Why are you looking at me as if I did something wrong? Isn¡¯t it obvious I¡¯m trying to help you? To help us? Stop looking at me. Stop it. Stop. It¡¯s a shame isn¡¯t it? ¡­.No. Now¡¯s not the time to appear. You tried to help them, but of course, this is what you receive. Mere worried looks as to who you truly are. Go away. No one asked you to be here. No one wants to hear you. That¡¯s true¡­¡­But the same could be said for you. As soon as they figure out who you actually are, you¡¯ll be just like me. Sys, are you there? Sys isn¡¯t here. Stop relying on others to help you. ¡­¡­¡­.Leave me alone. Filthy hypocrite. You detest the idea of others affecting your decisions, yet you so readily beg for help from another. Not to mention, this whole situation right now. Why did you even do all of this? Why did you do this instead of thinking of a plan to help Nightclaw hunt during the rain? Why are you so hung up about the bees? ¡­¡­.You¡¯re not real. You¡¯re just an annoying voice. I heard the Corrupted Voice take a deep breath. Eventually, your true identity will be revealed, be it out of your own volition or another unnatural cause¡­¡­..So, to prepare for that, what do you do? Why are you so loud¡­¡­..Why is it so damn hard to hear my own thoughts? You masquerade as an intelligent and responsible son, a person fully capable of being cherished by their family¡­¡­You hope that, when they find out¡­¡­they¡¯ll be willing to overlook it all, just because of how much of a good son you¡¯ve been¡­¡­You hope that, they¡¯ll still love you. The sudden feeling of the gentle grip of a hand on my shoulders jolted me back to reality. It was Dad, but this time, his smile was back. ¡°This is great work.¡± He tousled my hair as he got up and analyzed my drawing once more. ¡°I always knew you were special.¡± Mom added, hugging me tightly again. ¡°Arthur, Elaine, come in here!¡± She yelled out. Beric, are you okay? ¡°.....Did you hear me say anything?¡± No. You¡¯ve just been sitting there for a few seconds. The only thing that stood out was how your vitals spiked for a bit¡­¡­.though, I don¡¯t see as to what could''ve caused that. ¡°I just had a¡­.huge headache for a minute¡­¡­it¡¯s probably nothing.¡± ¡­¡­.Alright. Arthur and Elaine came bounding around the corner and into the room. They were puzzled about why they¡¯d been called, but Dad quickly explained the situation. They looked at the drawing, surprised by what I had created. The two of them came over and praised me for what I¡¯d accomplished. ¡°Nice going, bro.¡± Arthur smacked me on the back. ¡°That¡¯s quite exceptional of you.¡± Elaine earnestly said while patting my head. (She also hit Arthur for hitting me a little too hard.) ¡°Arthur.¡± Dad suddenly said. ¡°Come help me make this hive.¡± Arthur grinned. ¡°Sure, pops.¡± ¡°Oh, and¡­..bring Beric.¡± Dad added before turning around. Everyone besides Dad was surprised, especially me. I wasn¡¯t expecting this to happen. ¡°Beric too? But, he¡¯s far too little. What if he hurts himself?¡± Mom asked. She was probably the most worried one. ¡°Arthur and I will keep a close eye on him. We¡¯ll make sure to. Right, Arthur?¡± Dad asked. Arthur nodded his head. ¡°Yes sir.¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°But still, what could he possibly even help with? It¡¯s not like he can lift much, and the tools are too sharp for him to use.¡± Dad turned back around. ¡°I hear your concerns, but all Beric will do is watch Arthur and I build it. I simply want him to get some real experience by watching us, and to mimic what we do when he gets older. I just want him to at least be a part of building his own invention.¡± Mom became silent after that. Her eyes switched back to Dad and I, internally struggling as to what to do. Elaine then went over and held Mom¡¯s hand. ¡°I¡¯m sure Beric will be fine, Mom. You can trust Dad and especially Arthur. He knows what¡¯ll happen if he lets anything happen to Beric.¡± She smiled at Arthur, but everyone knew it was fake. ¡°Of course! I¡¯ll watch over Beric like a hawk!¡± Arthur loudly stated, trying to hide his unease at Elaine¡¯s expression. Seeing how everyone was confident in keeping me safe, Mom let out a sigh, as she said, ¡°Fine. But bring him back before nightfall.¡± Dad nodded in response as he walked out to the front door. Arthur took hold of my hand as he guided me to follow. Before I fully left the room, I felt the burning feeling of someone intensely staring at me. Turning around, all I saw was Mom and Elaine smiling and waving at me¡­¡­..That¡¯s odd. Arthur and I stepped out of the house, trailing closely behind Dad. He still held the drawing in his hand, scrutinizing the blueprint with keen attention to every detail. The forest hadn¡¯t changed much since my last visit. The trees remained towering, concealing whatever creatures might be thriving within the meadow. Sunlight filtered through the few gaps in the canopy, providing enough light for the three of us to navigate safely. The ground was as rugged as ever, but Dad¡¯s efforts had made a visible path, free of thorns and thistles that could trip us up. The forest buzzed with life, yet it was clear by the sun¡¯s position that evening was approaching. At most, we had about three hours to complete the hive before I had to leave. ¡°You know, Dad¡¯s the village repairman. Whenever someone¡¯s got a leak or having trouble with building something, Dad¡¯s the one they call for.¡± Arthur said, walking right by my side. I already knew Dad was skilled with construction and handwork, but village repairman? That¡¯s interesting. ¡°Dad actually used to work for a noble, overseeing all of the construction that took place within the noble¡¯s home.¡± Woah, hold on a minute. ¡°Noble?¡± I asked, trying to make sure I heard him right. ¡°Yeah, he was the¡­¡­.well, I don¡¯t remember the exact title, but he was the guy who the noble would depend on for all of the buildings and the handwork that was put into them.¡± Arthur calmly stated, as if he didn¡¯t just drop a bombshell. This was¡­..intriguing. If Dad really did work for a noble¡­¡­then what happened? ¡°And Sys, why¡¯d you never tell me this?¡± I didn¡¯t think it was important. ¡°I was actually younger than you when Dad stopped working there.¡± Arthur said, slowing down his steps, possibly to not let Dad overhear the conversation. ¡°Why?¡± Was he fired? ¡°No one knows. I tried asking him, but he¡¯s never given me a straight answer. Same with mom¡­¡­I guess something happened there¡­¡­.¡± Arthur kicked a stone away, perhaps out of annoyance as to why no one had told him the truth. ¡°They never tell me anything¡­¡­.it¡¯s not like I try to be dumb¡­..¡± His face took on a somber tone. Arthur was usually the goofball of the family. If there was any laughter echoing through the house, it was likely because of him¡­¡­.There were even times when I couldn¡¯t help but let out a small laugh at his antics. But I know Arthur isn¡¯t just the family clown. He¡¯s also heroic, a great brother to both Elaine and me. He¡¯s earnest and dedicated to whatever task is given to him¡­¡­.as long as it doesn¡¯t involve bugs... and if it isn¡¯t too boring. It¡¯s no surprise that Arthur often feels left out of serious matters, given how people tend to overlook him or dismiss him as being unable to be serious. I took a hold of his hand. He looked at me, probably wondering if I wanted a piggy back ride. I didn¡¯t want one. I simply smiled at him and said, ¡°Good brother.¡± His face brightened at that. With a slight laugh, he stood tall, beaming proudly at me. ¡°Hah, of course I am. Here, get on my back. Let¡¯s race Dad to his lumber yard.¡± I climbed his back, safely securing my place. Then, like a flash, Arthur ran, zooming past Dad. Dad merely looked up and, upon seeing us, picked up his pace. Arthur let out a yell of excitement as he hopped over a few rocks, dodged the hanging tree branches, and ducked beneath the thorny vines scattered across the trees. But now, something weighs on my mind after seeing Arthur¡¯s momentarily saddened expression. Is it the clown¡¯s fault that no one takes him seriously? Or is it the others who, blinded by their preconceived notions, refuse to believe him? As I ponder this, a certain fairy tale comes to mind. You¡¯re probably familiar with it: The Boy Who Cried Wolf. It¡¯s a classic tale about a young boy who repeatedly lies about a wolf attacking his sheep, and the villagers who always fall for it. Eventually, the villagers begin to doubt the boy and stop believing his claims. Then, one day, the boy¡¯s lie becomes reality. Wolves truly appear, and they start devouring his sheep. The boy calls for help, but none of the villagers come to his aid. The story ends with all of his sheep lost¡­¡­¡­and, in some versions, the boy himself is eaten. A harsh and brutal ending for a young child. So, I ask the question again: Who is to blame? Or more specifically, who is at fault for the wolves eating the boy¡¯s sheep? I ask this for one simple reason. I believe that a whole herd of sheep, when attacked by wolves, would make an incredible noise¡ªa noise loud enough for the villagers to hear¡­¡­¡­.And yet, they did nothing. They ignored the boy¡¯s cries and stayed locked in their homes. If I¡¯m right, then it¡¯s almost as if they let the boy¡¯s sheep be eaten¡­¡­¡­..But why? Well, here¡¯s my answer: I think the villagers grew so weary of the boy that they decided to let him suffer, to punish him for what he had done. But did the boy truly deserve that? Surely, he begged. Surely, he wept and groveled, pleading for anyone to help him. Surely, he promised that this time was real¡­¡­¡­.that this time, things would be different. That this time, he was different¡­¡­¡­¡­..that he was better. He was just a young boy, bored with his job. He only wanted to have a little fun with a harmless lie. But the villagers didn¡¯t care. Instead of giving the boy a chance to redeem himself, they let him fall victim to his own mistakes, fully aware they could¡¯ve helped. All they had to do was believe in him¡­¡­¡­All they had to do was give him one more chance. But, of course, they wouldn¡¯t. After all, the very idea of change is absurd. Because of one mistake you made in the past, society won¡¯t hesitate to persecute you. Blinded by hatred for who you once were, they ignore your genuine attempts to change, to become better than the person you used to be. You try so hard to take that first step, to show that, even if it¡¯s small, you¡¯re capable of becoming a better person¡­¡­¡­¡­but it doesn¡¯t matter. Society doesn¡¯t care for feel-good stories. They don¡¯t want to hear about how some ¡°trash¡± human being becomes a hero. They need villains, people who refuse to change, who remain static in their flaws. They need these so-called ¡°monsters¡± to rally against. They need a common enemy to unite the whole of society¡­¡­¡­¡­But what about you? What about the source of all this? What do you do?..........Faced with all of this, you can only do one thing¡­¡­¡­.give up. What¡¯s the point of trying to become a better person if everyone treats you like you never tried to? We arrived at the lumberyard, the same open field filled with stumps of cut down trees and the sprouts of baby trees. It looked the same as when I last saw it, aside from a few additions to Dad¡¯s tools. Arthur placed me on the bench as he started tidying up an area for himself. Dad then finally arrived, eyes now off the drawing. ¡°Arthur, get all the large, flat bark you can find and bring them back here. Make sure to also grab an ample amount of vines. I¡¯ll deal with the logs.¡± ¡°Understood.¡± Arthur saluted before zooming off into the tree-line. The way he ran off reminded me of an old cartoon. It was the one that had the¡­¡­.ostrich?.......No, that wasn¡¯t it¡­¡­a penguin?.....What was it? ¡°Beric.¡± Dad¡¯s voice pulled me back. I noticed that he had a small bowl in his hands. He kneeled down on one leg, while offering me the bowl. ¡°I need you to go and gather as much mud as you can with this bowl. Can you do that for me?¡± If I was being honest, I did not want to do this. I was already being forced to go along with them, and now I had to help them¡­¡­..Did they forget I¡¯m only 1? Bitching about it isn¡¯t going to speed it up. Yeah, Sys is right. I took the bowl from Dad¡¯s hands. ¡°Okay.¡± Dad smiled at that. ¡°Thank you.¡± He got back up and started getting to work, grabbing an axe and cutting the logs he had on hand. Weren¡¯t they supposed to keep a close eye on you? ¡°There¡¯s like a huge puddle of mud 4 feet away from me. Nothing¡¯s going to happen.¡± What if you trip on a rock, fall face first into the puddle, snort up some of the mud accidentally, and slowly die internally as a dangerous parasite thrives off your insides? ¡°Thanks for the horror movie idea, but no, I think it¡¯ll be fine.¡± I walked on over to the mud puddle¡­¡­.making sure I somehow wouldn¡¯t slip, and started scooping up some of the mud. I figured that Dad needed the mud for insulating the hive. Bringing it back, I placed the bowl on a table. I then walked over back to the bench and took a seat. Dad and Arthur were both still hard at work, so I decided I might as well relax. If you could only eat soup with a fork, how long do you think it would take? ¡­¡­¡­I guess I won¡¯t be relaxing any time soon. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Half an hour went by, and Arthur finished gathering his supplies. He dropped them all near Dad¡¯s station with a proud look. ¡°What¡¯s next?¡± ¡°Use the small axe on the table over there to cut the bark into rectangular pieces. Make sure to be careful and cut them all the same. Don¡¯t rush it or you may hurt yourself.¡± Dad ordered mid-hacking. ¡°Okay!¡± Arthur obeyed and instantly began working on the task, slowly but accurately cutting the bark. Time to wait again. What language do deaf people think in? Oh my go- --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Another full hour passed, and the two had completed their tasks. Arthur proudly displayed his neatly cut rectangular pieces, while Dad finished gathering all the necessary wood. Dad then began crafting the ¡°boxes,¡± tying the vines together, while Arthur started carving branches with his axe into small bars for the bees to use in building their own combs. ¡°Don¡¯t do it.¡± ¡­¡­.. ¡°Sys.¡± If you yell at your reflection in the mirror, who¡¯s the one who¡¯s being rude? ¡°........That¡¯s actually a good question.¡± --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Another full hour had passed, and the sun was finally beginning to set. Hints of orange spread across the sky, signaling the approach of evening. The forest was alive with the sounds of crickets, and the occasional hoot of a distant owl echoed through the trees. The shadows from the trees began to dance, announcing the arrival of night. Thankfully, Dad and Arthur weren¡¯t wasting time¡ªthey were about to finish the hive. The tall stack of boxes stood on the ground, complete. Dad made his final adjustments, ensuring the boxes were tightly packed together with the vines. He checked that everything was properly insulated and that the lengths were uniform. Arthur had just finished the roof and, eager to test it, poured a small amount of water on top. Watching the water flow off smoothly, he yelled out in excitement. The hive was finished. Expecting to head home, I stood up from the bench and prepared to leave. To my surprise, Dad suddenly gestured for me to come over. I complied, curious about what he needed. My surprise grew when Dad grabbed my hand and placed a knife into it. He then guided me from his side and positioned me right in front of him, pulling me into what could only be described as a bear hug. Or rather than a hug, it felt more like a position where he could direct my movements. ¡°Since this is your invention, you¡¯ll be the one to finish it.¡± Dad explained, guiding my hand to the bottom box. I followed his guide and started carving a small circle. Little by little, the makings of a small hole began to form, from which I presumed to be the hole the bees would use to both enter and exit the hive. ¡°Nice handwork.¡± Arthur chimed in. It took a few minutes, until the hole fully formed. And with that, the hive was done. That took way too long. Dad took the knife from my hands and placed it on the nearby table. ¡°You see that, Beric? We created this, with your design.¡± It¡¯s not my most proud work, but I guess it¡¯ll do just fine. Dad turned me to face him and, still holding me, stood up. Lifting me high into the air, he exclaimed, ¡°You are a genius!¡± His normally neutral expression was now replaced with a wide, bright smile. His usual quiet brown eyes sparkled with a warm, hazelnut glow. ¡°You might even be better than Dad,¡± Arthur muttered, his gaze focused on the completed hive. It seemed like Arthur had fully grasped the intricacies and potential usefulness of the hive now that it was fully built. Quickly and seemingly out of nowhere, He slowly lowered me to the ground, his movements carrying the weight of weariness. With the look of an exhausted, aging man, he knelt down before me once again. Locking eyes with me, he spoke, ¡°Beric, I regret that¡­¡­I can¡¯t provide you with the life you deserve. A genius like you should¡¯ve been born into a rich life, a life full of opportunity and prosperity¡­¡­..but to be born instead to someone like me¡­¡­.it¡¯s a cruel joke, isn¡¯t it?¡± The air took on a cold feel, as I could only stare back at Dad. I was quiet not out of respect for the situation or of empathy or anything like that. I was quiet because¡­¡­I agreed with him. No matter what gifts you may be blessed with, they mean nothing if you were to be born into a life where you can¡¯t present them¡­¡­..I really, really had hoped to be born as a noble, or something of that caliber¡­¡­.and I would be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t disappointed to find out that I was born as a commoner¡­¡­¡­but still, I disliked hearing him say all of this. It wasn¡¯t his fault. There¡¯s no need for him to apologize¡­¡­¡­when I should be the one to. Don¡¯t feel sorry for him. I¡¯ll do what I want. You¡¯re letting it happen again. And I¡¯m fine with it. So, leave. You¡¯ve already appeared enough for now. So be it. Arthur paused his cleaning, hearing Dad¡¯s words. Even someone as young as him could sense the weight of what had just been said. Dad took a moment to collect his thoughts, his gaze dropping as if he couldn¡¯t bear to meet mine. ¡°I... I know I can¡¯t give you everything you need to succeed.¡± His voice wavered, a crack I never thought I¡¯d hear from Dad. He looked up at me again. ¡°But I will give you everything I can. I¡¯ll share all the knowledge I have, and I¡¯ll do everything in my power to provide you with the resources, the money, and the support to help you succeed.¡± His eyes had changed from the tired and weary dark, brown eyes, but to the steady, resolute chestnut eyes that I had come to rely on. ¡­¡­..It wasn¡¯t so bad to see. ¡°Uh¡­..Dad?¡± ¡°Yes, Arthur?¡± Arthur snuck his way to our sides, quietly listening in on the entire time. ¡°Are you sure that Beric wants to become an¡­..archcect?......archigect?¡± ¡°An architect?¡± ¡°Yeah, that, or whatever job that deals with fixing and building stuff.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Dad¡¯s eyes were now curious. ¡°It¡¯s just that¡­¡­..sure Beric¡¯s probably a genius in building stuff, but is that what he wants? What if he wants to be something else? Like a chef¡­..or a trader¡­¡­.or even a fisher?¡± Arthur¡¯s voice was quiet, and yet, even with the wind rustling in our ears, it was loud and clear to the both of us. Dad looked at Arthur. He considered Arthur¡¯s words carefully. ¡°You¡¯re right¡­¡­¡­¡± He looked back at me. ¡°Beric, what do you want to be?¡± Sheesh, where did that come from?.......Hmmm, if I had to say right now, I¡¯d probably have to pick something simple like a trader or an inn owner¡­¡­hell, I probably shouldn¡¯t even answer. Why would a one year old even have a dream job?......Yeah, that¡¯s right. I should just stay quiet. It¡¯d be much better and smarter to- ¡°Adventurer.¡± ¡­¡­¡­.What? Who said that?......Was that Arthur? Arthur looked at me with wide open eyes, full of surprise. Nope. It couldn¡¯t have been him. Dad? Dad had the same reaction, albeit with a less obvious expression. No¡­..plus the voice didn¡¯t fit¡­¡­¡­but then, if it wasn¡¯t them¡­¡­.then it has to be¡­¡­.me. Did it just slip out accidentally? Was I thinking too hard that I didn¡¯t notice my mouth moving on its own?......Shit. It¡¯s that same look. Stop it. I know I¡¯m not normal. You don¡¯t have to keep staring. I should¡¯ve just stayed quiet. Why did I say that? Why am I like this? Why can¡¯t I just be- ¡°Hahaha.¡± Dad quietly chuckled. The sound of Dad laughing took me aback. Did he go crazy? Was I¡­..that mind-altering? He laid his right hand on my shoulder. Looking at me in the eyes with a proud smile, Dad said, ¡°That''s a very fine dream, Beric.¡± ¡­¡­? I don¡¯t understand. ¡°An adventurer huh? That¡¯s kind of a scary job.¡± Arthur said while rubbing his chin. ¡°I wanted to be one too when I was younger, but ever since then, I¡¯ve heard way too many scary stories.¡± But¡­¡­is it not normal for me to pursue what I¡¯m best at?........Why are they just fine with me saying that¡­¡­¡­Are they just not taking me seriously? ¡°An adventurer is a very noble profession. I¡¯m sure that, if you wanted to, you would have been very successful following the line of architecture.¡± Dad closed his eyes, perhaps imagining that very future. ¡°But, it¡¯s not about that.¡± He reopened his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s about what you want to become. It¡¯s about what you want to do. And, since you want to become an adventurer, then I guess we¡¯ll have to help you learn magic and swordsmanship.¡± ¡­¡­.It¡¯s okay doing what I want to do? ¡°Though, we¡¯ll have to wait until you¡¯re older¡­¡­..maybe when you¡¯re around 7 we can start training you with a sword.¡± Dad said after a moment of thinking. ¡°You¡¯ll also have me for some extra lessons!¡± Arthur proclaimed. ¡­¡­.They¡¯re fine with me wanting to become an adventurer¡­¡­..and they¡¯re not even scared of my capabilities, but rather, they encourage it¡­¡­¡­I can¡­.be an adventurer? For some reason, I felt a smile creeping upon my lips¡­¡­except this time, I didn¡¯t force it to appear. It came into being on its own. ¡°Okay!¡± I exclaimed. For the first time in a while, I felt something strange. I started to.....look forward to the future. Deaths Dilemma As he rode his loyal steed, Vesper, Death surveyed his surroundings. The region of the afterlife he traversed was enveloped by an endless expanse of stars, illuminating the once present darkness. With every passing second, hundreds more emerged¡ªeach a testament to a newly born life, a memory forged, or a connection formed. Yet, despite this beautiful spectacle, the pure light could not dispel the looming shadow of the question that plagued his mind. Death had a dilemma. A question that he felt was crucial to understanding the true purpose behind Egoros¡¯ plan. Why did Egoros choose ???......Interesting. It seems that his name is still censored. For conveniences¡¯ sake, I¡¯ll refer to ??? as Beric, even though ??? is his real name. Returning to Death¡¯s dilemma, he pondered intensely over Egoros¡¯ choice of Beric. What made Beric so special? Surely, out of billions¡ªperhaps even trillions¡ªof souls to choose from, why him? Was he overlooking something? Death reflected on the days he had silently trailed behind Beric. As with every mortal, he remained ever-present, an unseen shadow lingering just beyond sight. From the womb to the grave, he was there, patiently awaiting life''s one certainty¡ªthe end. From what Death recalled, Beric had lived a seemingly unremarkable life. Of Asian descent, he was a quiet yet intelligent individual, born into a small family consisting of his parents and grandfather¡ªthe latter passing away when Beric turned ten. Aside from his introverted nature, there was nothing outwardly exceptional about him¡­¡­¡­..at least, on the surface. But Death knows all. He knows our thoughts, our connections, and the lengths of our journeys. More than anything, he knows our dreams¡ªbecause he is the one who ends them. Death knew Beric¡¯s dream, becoming an adventurer. But, the life that he was forced into did not allow such a path. The world of Earth was not welcoming to such ambitious desires. The only path one could find success within this harsh world is the path of slavery. For the ones born on Earth, they are sentenced to a sorry life. They become enslaved the very moment they arrive, crying as the rough air enters their lungs. Even at birth, they already have an order: be a good child. Grow up into a scholar, and spend their entire childhood in the prison known as school. Learn what their masters decide is appropriate, numbing their brains to become mere meshes of useless slop. This world doesn¡¯t want adventurers, stars, role models, or even heroes for that matter. It wants slaves. Worker bees who¡¯ll obey any order, who know nothing else than to simply say, ¡°Yes Sir.¡± Death felt a tinge of pity upon seeing the results in Beric¡¯s life. His spite towards his parents, but love at the same time, considering how Beric knew they only wanted the best for him. He felt understanding in how Beric felt alone, having no one to tell his troubles to. He felt¡­..the same, upon seeing how Beric so desperately wanted something to change¡­¡­.. Death knew Beric was similar to him. That¡¯s why he felt a kindred spirit within Beric¡­¡­ But, was Death the only one who could sense that? Did someone else realize the connection between them? Is that it? Did Egoros choose Beric, because of their similarities? But why? Death started to think back on the plan itself. The plan was structured around a simple goal: to secure a soul to take the spot of Death. Egoros would also benefit by witnessing a story that he had no control of. But, does this really make sense? Out of all souls, why Beric? Why the soul of someone who detests the same as him? Would it not be possible that Beric, upon becoming Death, goes through the same thing as him?.......Wouldn¡¯t he also make the same deal with Egoros? That¡¯s it. Egoros chose Beric for specifically that reason. He chooses the souls which he knows would later end up making the same deal. All so that Egoros could witness as many stories as he can. Egoros is trying to create a never-ending loop¡­¡­¡­.Death knew this was only possible because of the sudden disappearance of the Supreme Divinity. Due to His slumber, outlandish schemes like this were finally feasible. There was no worry of an invisible being that could see everything. Death then wondered something else. Who else is taking advantage of this? ¡­¡­..Is Egoros the cause behind His slumber? No, that wasn¡¯t possible. Egoros was but a minor god. He had dominion over only a single world. Such a being couldn¡¯t possibly be involved. Death then concluded that Egoros was simply trying to ease his boredom by continually picking souls similar to Death such as Beric. Was this something to be worried about? Truthfully, no. As long as Egoros wouldn¡¯t ruin the balance too much, then Death didn¡¯t care. He already did his part. All Death had to do was wait for Beric¡­¡­.. But something was still wrong. Egoros knew Death was no simple pushover. Besides being a primal deity above even the gods, Death¡¯s intelligence was nothing to laugh at. Egoros was like that too. He was highly intelligent even for a minor god¡­¡­.He was able to create this plan after all. So, if Egoros didn¡¯t tell Death about this, then surely, that meant he wanted to keep this hidden from Death¡¯s knowledge. But, was Egoros just underestimating him? Finding this out through pure reasoning wasn¡¯t too hard. Egoros had to have known that. Unless, Egoros wanted him to find that out. Did Egoros purposely keep this hidden, so that when Death would realize it on his own, Death would perceive it as his own work? What if Egoros simply did this to lead Death into thinking this way? If Egoros did this, all so that Death would believe this answer¡­¡­..then it¡¯s a red herring. There¡¯s something else that Egoros is hiding. Death tried to think back about Beric¡¯s life. Perhaps he was missing something. His grandfather¡­¡­.His dreams¡­¡­.His school life¡­¡­..The separation from his friends¡­¡­¡­His lonely life¡­¡­..His death. Wait. Something¡¯s wrong. This was all he could remember about Beric. All he could muster out of his memory was Beric¡¯s lonely life and shattered dreams. He couldn¡¯t fully take into account Beric¡¯s existence: his friends, actions, thoughts, and his life in general. Death had the power to store every life that had crossed his path within his memory. He could remember every single detail in an ordinary day in someone¡¯s life. He was Death after all. And yet, why wasn¡¯t it the same for Beric? Why was it that he could only remember these specific details? What if¡­¡­.this is the doing of someone else? What if someone, in some way, erased his memory of certain aspects of Beric¡¯s life? This would mean that someone wanted to keep something hidden¡­¡­..Like Egoros. Death reasoned that perhaps Egoros had intentionally allowed him to retain memories of Beric¡¯s dream and family, subtly guiding him to the conclusion that Beric¡¯s life mirrored Death¡¯s own. A way to suggest that Egoros had chosen Beric for that very similarity. But now, Death was certain. It was all a ruse. Egoros had wanted him to believe that, all to conceal something far more significant. Egoros has an ulterior motive in picking Beric. And so, Death hurried Vesper. Death had a new destination in mind. A place that could possibly answer his questions. The Library of Alexandria. You may have heard of this building before. In the ancient world on Earth, it stood as the greatest archive of knowledge ever known. It housed countless scrolls and tomes, preserving wisdom through the ages¡ªuntil its tragic destruction by fire in 48 BC. Another interesting fact is that it was a part of a larger institution, the Mouseion, a work of art that was dedicated to the 9 Muses¡­¡­..Death was not looking forward to seeing them. Upon arriving, Death dismissed Vesper, leaving him to stand alone before the massive library that loomed ahead. This part of the afterlife now resided in the realm of the gods, altering the very landscape. The sun had risen, wiping away the stars that had once speckled the sky. In their place, a clear expanse stretched above, with wispy clouds swirling gracefully in the breeze. And at the heart of it all stood the Library of Alexandria. Marbled columns upheld the grand entrance, their surfaces glistening with sunlight against the chiseled limestone. Beyond the entrance lay a vast courtyard, populated by the renowned philosophers and scribes who had once walked the Earth. Olive trees lined in neat rows formed a natural boundary, enclosing the space. Small bushes were arranged similarly, their vibrant flowers scattered across the ground in a myriad of colors, adding to the serene beauty of the scene. As Death stepped into the courtyard, he observed Euclid engaged in a discussion with several young scribes, laying out the foundations of geometry. Nearby, Eratosthenes and Strabo were deep in conversation, debating the methods and intricacies of mapping worlds like Earth. Off to the side, Archimedes tinkered with machinery far beyond his own era. In another corner, the trio of astronomers¡ªHipparchus, Petosiris, and Berossus¡ªshared their thoughts on the cosmos, passionately debating their differing views on what was right and wrong in the field of astronomy. Although built in Egypt, the library was founded by the Greeks, with Persian influence woven throughout, a legacy of Egypt¡¯s time under Persian rule. This blending of cultures was largely due to the Ptolemaic dynasty. But, of course, you''re not here for a history lesson. Despite their cultural differences, the philosophers, scribes, and all present mingled as old friends, sharing laughter and peacefully engaging in deep discussions on perplexing topics. Though they didn¡¯t agree on everything, there was one thing that united them: a puzzle none could solve. An equation so impossible that not even the brightest minds could crack it¡ªthe escape from Death. And it was this very truth that caused them to fear him, even in the afterlife.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. But Death was accustomed to it. Their sudden silence upon his arrival didn¡¯t faze him. Their instinctive retreat as he drew near didn¡¯t trouble him. The whispered conversations that began as they thought he could no longer hear? It didn¡¯t affect him. He heard their murmurs of displeasure. He heard them speak of the misfortune that tended to follow his presence. It didn¡¯t bother him. At least¡­¡­.not too much. As Death reached the marble steps, he ascended slowly, doing his best to ignore the glares of those watching him from behind. At last, he arrived at the bronze doors, and with a deliberate motion, he pulled them open, granting himself access to the Library of Alexandria. The first chamber was a vast hall, its marble flooring cold beneath the feet of those who walked. Tall, marble columns stretched upward, supporting a colossal ceiling adorned with hanging chandeliers. Near the chandeliers, high-set windows allowed sunlight to filter through at a precise angle, casting a dusky glow across the room. Illuminated by this soft light, rows of towering wooden shelves lined the walls. Oil lamps rested on tables, casting warmth on the darker corners of the hall. If one looked closely, they might glimpse the shadows of those who had shaped history. They would possibly see the writers of the past, whose lives had been devoted to recording the world¡¯s story. The air was thick with the scents of papyrus, beeswax, and ink. Among the shelves, Death observed the scrolls, each meticulously wrapped in linen and stored in clay or wooden cases, preserved with care for everybody to use. Continuing forward, Death reached the center of the hall, where hundreds of scribes hunched over their work, diligently copying texts by hand or translating foreign languages. Beyond them, scholars engaged in intense discussions, their voices echoing in the large hall. Death paid little attention to them. They were all too absorbed in their work to even notice his presence. At the head desk, Death saw the figure of Zenodotus, the head librarian. His large, grey beard flowed down to his chest, and he was draped in a Himation, a large rectangular cloak wrapped around his body. The cloak didn¡¯t obscure his face, allowing Death to see the weariness in his eyes. ¡°Head librarian.¡± Death spoke with a stern tone. Zenodotus perked up. ¡°Master Death? To what do I owe the pleasure?¡± ¡°I require the tome of a mortal, hailing from the celestial body ¡®Earth¡¯.¡± ¡°Of course, of course.¡± Zenodotus hurriedly tried to make his table clean. He grabbed a clipboard. ¡°Name?¡± ¡°???¡±- Still? That¡¯s a shame. Let¡¯s do that again. ¡°Beric. Male, of Asian descent, deceased. Cause of death, an automobile.¡± ¡°Beric¡­¡­Beric¡­..Beric¡­¡­.¡± Zenodotus turned to his right. ¡°Apollonius, is it the same for you?¡± A similarly dressed man answered back. ¡°It is.¡± He¡¯s the second in command. ¡°What¡¯s troubling you?¡± Death asked. Zenodotus started trembling. ¡°I¡¯m deeply sorry, Master Death¡­¡­.but for some reason¡­..this tome you speak of.¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°It does not exist.¡± The air used to be warm, but upon hearing that, Death¡¯s mere presence made the air become freezing. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Death¡¯s eyes felt just as cold as the air. Sputtering, Zenodotus tried to explain. ¡°While I¡¯m not sure myself, I can assure you that this tome you wish for is not present here. Either it has never existed¡­¡­or¡­.¡± ¡°Or what?¡± Zenodotus felt like he was walking on a field full of landmines. ¡°Someone took it and¡­¡­never returned it. Though, I don¡¯t see that as being plausible. If it does exist, then I would at least be able to see the name of the one who¡¯s borrowed it.¡± Death turned his back. What was going on? It was for a fact that Beric existed. Just because his tome wasn¡¯t present, it didn¡¯t mean that his life was simply already gone¡­¡­¡­¡±May I have your permission to search the archives for myself?¡± ¡°Certainly, Master Death. Be my guest.¡± Zenodotus pointed Death in the direction in which Beric¡¯s tome would have been. Death followed the direction given and wandered deeper into the archives. Endless shelves of books stretched before him, each one containing the life of a mortal. His mind filled with the weight of their stories as his eyes scanned for Beric¡¯s. With each shelf he searched, frustration began to mount, his annoyance growing at the lack of progress. ¡°What do we have here?¡± The voice of a woman came from behind Death. It was not just any voice, for it sounded like the pinnacle of what a singer could reach. Death turned around, begrudgingly, to come face to face with Calliope, the chief of the Muses. ¡°Madam Calliope.¡± Calliope was a striking young woman, her voice as sweet and divine as heaven itself. A laurel wreath rested gently on her head, nestled within her short, braided black hair. Her sepia brown eyes shimmered with curiosity and amusement, catching the sunlight that reflected off the trumpet in her right hand. In her left, she held a long scroll of parchment. Dressed in a simple yet elegant Doric chiton, she offered Death a warm smile. ¡°I sense something queer. For you to appear here, not one time but two. Tell me, what is troubling you?¡± Calliope was the type of person to take advantage of their voice and to attempt to rhyme with every sentence. It very much annoyed Death. ¡°I am currently occupied with searching for a specific tome.¡± Death turned back around to continue searching. ¡°Would you enjoy my assistance?¡± She placed herself next to Death. ¡°No.¡± ¡°The way you so readily decline help is very consistent.¡± She walked back. ¡°Someone like you can¡¯t help but be alone. But, acting like that will not help, down to the bone.¡± What was she talking about now? ¡°Calliope! Where are you?¡± Another distant female voice called out. Oh no. ¡°Right here.¡± She answered back. Death wondered if he could sneak away before they arrived, but before he could even try, the rest of the Muses appeared. One by one, the remaining Muses arrived, each dressed in the same style but distinct in their headwear and belongings. First came Clio, with the same hair, headwear, and outfit as Calliope, but instead of a scroll or trumpet, she carried a large book. Close behind her was Erato, her crown shimmering in the sunlight as she clutched her zither tightly. Euterpe, playing her flute, drew the doves near Erato to glide around the crown of flowers adorning her head. Melpomene and Thalia entered together, their masks clearly marking their identities¡ªMelpomene wore the mask of tragedy, while Thalia wore the mask of comedy. Polyhymnia stood out in a unique white dress, gazing into the distance as she absentmindedly played with the chain in her hands. Terpsichore followed, her laughter filling the air as she played the lyre, dragging Urania along with her. The youngest of the Muses, Urania wore a crown of stars and a light blue dress that seemed to flow effortlessly with her every movement. Orbiting near her was her trusty globe, an essential companion for her cosmic pursuits. ¡°What¡¯s up, Calliope?¡± Terpsichore asked while moving closer to her. Upon seeing Death, her smile grew even bigger. ¡°Master Death? It¡¯s good to see you again!¡± She smacked Death on the back. ¡°Master Death? Oh no, no, no, no. Is something terrible going to happen?¡± Melpomene muttered while gripping her mask tightly. Thanks to Euterpe¡¯s flute¡¯s comforting ability, Melpomene calmed down before doing anything crazy. ¡°I¡¯m only here because I require a tome.¡± Death grumbled as he continued searching. ¡°Want us to help?¡± Terpsichore asked. ¡°No.¡± ¡°That¡¯s to be expected.¡± Terpsichore stated before hopping back. ¡°What is it that you seek?¡± Polyhymnia asked while still looking far out into the distance. ¡°A tome of a mortal on Earth.¡± ¡°Did you not ask the head librarians yet?¡± Urania quietly whispered. ¡°I have, and they stated that the tome I wish for does not exist.¡± The muses let out a collective gasp. This was a first for them. Terpsichore was the first to speak. ¡°Really? That¡¯s odd. Are you sure this tome of yours is real?¡± Death turned around to glare at her. ¡°I am.¡± Terpsichore backed up even more. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°The head librarians haven¡¯t made a mistake in the entirety of this library¡¯s existence. I don¡¯t understand how this tome of yours hasn¡¯t been recorded.¡± Calliope muttered out loud with a serious look. Thalia pinched her ear. ¡°Ouch!¡± Calliope squeaked. ¡°You forgot to rhyme.¡± Thalia answered with a snicker. ¡°Surely, this isn¡¯t the time to worry about the need to rhyme.¡± Death could only let out a sigh. ¡°Look, don¡¯t you all have somewhere to be?¡± ¡°That is true. We have a performance that is very much soon due.¡± Calliope started walking away, with the rest of the muses following. ¡°Good luck, Master Death.¡± The other muses voiced the same, while Urania awkwardly bowed, before running back to the rest. ¡°Finally.¡± That was all Death could think. At least that part was settled. The real issue, however, was the tome. As Calliope had mentioned, it was true that the librarians had never made a single mistake throughout all of time¡­¡­¡­¡­Yet, as minutes turned into hours of searching, Death began to wonder if he had been wrong. If Beric¡¯s tome wasn¡¯t recorded, it would make sense. Given Death''s interference in the karma link between Earth and Beric, it was plausible that the Library couldn¡¯t properly record it. That was why Death had come here before, to retrieve the new tome of Beric¡¯s life. It had been Egoros¡¯ only request after the plan¡¯s first stage¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­.. Only request? Death¡¯s eyes widened. It was a simple detail, one that shouldn¡¯t have warranted this level of attention. He recalled the script that Egoros had meticulously planned. He remembered how Egoros had orchestrated Beric¡¯s actions: to offer Death a deal, to make conditions that seemed fair, but in reality, to give himself a significant advantage. Death also remembered how Beric had employed a cunning tactic¡ªusing seemingly innocent requests to conceal his true intentions. After serving the karma link between Beric and Earth, all that Death had to do was connect it back to Zarvendia, so that he could reincarnate within the said world¡­¡­¡­But, the only ones who knew about this were Death¡­¡­..and Egoros. What if Egoros took this to his advantage? To hide something in Beric¡¯s life?......What if Egoros acted upon it? But how? How could Egoros even take the tome, and do it without even being seen? The only ones permitted to visit the Library of Alexandria were those deeply involved with it: scribes, philosophers, and gods from the Greek, Persian, and Egyptian pantheons. Death, of course, was allowed, as were a few other primordial deities¡­¡­.But after the Supreme Divinity¡¯s slumber, there had been whispers of other gods sneaking into the library. These rogue deities, operating outside the established rules, could potentially hold the answers Death sought. Was it then? Did Egoros use that chance to take the tome? ¡­¡­..No. It doesn¡¯t explain how the tome isn¡¯t even remembered. Why did Zenodotus act like it never existed? Surely, if it was just stolen, then they would have at least remembered it, or have an account of it¡­¡­.but to say that it doesn¡¯t exist¡­¡­.. It doesn¡¯t exist. Death hurried out of the library, not even sparing a glance at the surprised looks of those around. Summoning Vesper, he hurried him to go back to Egoros¡¯ tower. Beric¡¯s tome doesn¡¯t exist¡­¡­at least, in this moment. At one point, it did. What if Egoros hadn¡¯t taken it himself? What if he had used someone else to take it for him, under a different title? Death''s mind raced as the thought formed. What if Egoros had anticipated this very realization? What if he knew that Death would expect him to waste time interrogating all the pantheons? What if Egoros had set a trap, ensuring that Death would waste so much time in a fruitless pursuit, when all along, the answer lay in just one person? The karma link was severed. Without it, Beric¡¯s soul was by itself¡­¡­without a tome. Without the karma link, and the history of the very soul, how could one write the tome? How could the librarians record his life if there wasn¡¯t one? What if, upon connecting the soul to Zarvendia, Egoros simply made it so that the tome that the librarians would inscribe was actually the life in the new world? What if the one who took the tome and supplied Egoros¡­¡­¡­..was actually Death himself? And if all of this were true, then Egoros would be laughing heartily, delighted that the life he had worked so hard to keep secret was now lost in the depths of Beric¡¯s new existence. The pages of Beric¡¯s fate, now rewritten, held a mystery that no one, not even Death, could fully unravel. Finally arriving at the tower, Death stormed past the crumbling playground, through the poorly designed door, past the glasses wearing individual, and straight into the elevator. Impatiently stomping his feet, he drowned out the obnoxious music filling the space. When the elevator finally reached Egoros¡¯ floor, Death rushed forward. Bursting through the door, he found Egoros seated calmly, sipping from a cup. Without a hint of urgency, Egoros glanced up at Death before turning his attention to the computer, presumably checking something. ¡°Right on time.¡± Egoros put aside his cup as he pointed towards a chair in front of him. ¡°Let¡¯s talk, my friend.¡± The Wolfs Last Howl From my family''s perspective at the dinner table, three-year-old Beric sat quietly, sipping water with careful precision. He was well-mannered, making no mess, and nearly finished with his meal. Soon, he would retreat to his parents'' bedroom to play with his toys. But that was their perspective. Through my eyes, I soared high above an endless forest, the vast canopy stretching beneath me. Occasionally, another bird crossed my path, but the moment they sensed my presence, they scattered in fear. The sun blazed overhead, showing no signs of sinking beneath the clouds. I was seeing through the eyes of Nightclaw. It was through an ability I had gained from Nightclaw¡¯s hunting¡ªone I chose to call ¡°Sense Share¡±. The fact that you¡¯re actually proud of coming up with that is crazy. ¡°Do you have a better name?¡± Soul sense share. ¡°Unplug yourself.¡± What? What does that even mean? ¡°You¡¯re basically a machine. I¡¯m telling you to pull the plug. Get the gears flowing.¡± Ohhhh, you¡¯re telling me to ki- ¡°Don¡¯t get us censored now.¡± Sense share is, in simple terms, the ability to see, hear, and feel everything a summon experiences. Right now, for example, I¡¯m seeing exactly what Nightclaw sees. However, it¡¯s important to understand that I¡¯m not overtaking his sight, but that he¡¯s merely sharing his senses with me. That¡¯s why he can still fly freely, navigating the skies as he normally would. While I may be soaring high above the forest through Nightclaw¡¯s vision, I can still see through my own eyes as well. If I had to describe it, rather than perceiving the two sights separately, my brain merges both images, making it feel as though I¡¯m seeing them simultaneously. In essence, my eyes are registering two distinct realities, but my mind organizes them into something I can fully comprehend. At the moment, I can only do one sense at a time. But, anyway, I¡¯ve gotten the hang of it now, since I can easily switch back and forth from Nightclaw¡¯s eyes to my own. The reason as to why I¡¯m using it is because I¡¯m searching for a specific creature. Oh, my radar¡¯s telling me that there¡¯s one near to the left. There¡¯s another ability I¡¯ve developed¡ªa fusion of sense share and soul sense. While using Nightclaw¡¯s vision, I activate soul sense to detect nearby souls. Since Sys provides me with their general locations, I can simply command Nightclaw to fly toward them while I focus on examining them more closely with soul sense. This isn¡¯t a pre-existing ability but something I created on my own. I think this is what Death meant when he said I would have to discover the possibilities of soul magic for myself. If you¡¯re also wondering, yes, due to the level ups that Beric has undergone, I¡¯ve also gained a small radar that can sometimes locate living beings nearby. Emphasis on sometimes. This is the fourth time Sys has supposedly ¡°located¡± something. Well, maybe it¡¯ll become better if you could level up faster. Sys is right, a rare occurrence, which is why we¡¯re currently searching for this creature. If you¡¯re curious, I decided to name this ability ¡°Radar¡±. ¡°Yeah, no one was curious about that. Wait, you got on my ass about my naming skills, and you named your radar ¡®Radar¡¯?¡± Is there a problem? Do you see what I have to deal with? Anyway, while I continue my search, there¡¯s one more thing I should explain about sense share. While the skill naturally improves as I level up, its effectiveness also depends on my affinity with the summon. That¡¯s why I had Nightclaw start hunting other hawks¡ªto strengthen our connection and enhance our shared vision. My affinity is primarily determined by how many times I¡¯ve absorbed the souls of the same type of creature. The more I absorb, the stronger the connection becomes. Right up ahead. Sharing the information to Nightclaw, I watched as Nightclaw suddenly went down into a dive, carefully maneuvering through the thick thickets below. It should be a few feet away. ¡°Found it.¡± Finally, we found one¡ªa solitary, injured wolf. Its silver fur gleamed under the light, its massive frame exuding strength despite its battered state. Cold, calculating yellow eyes swept across its surroundings, ever watchful. Its ears stood alert, tuned in for the slightest disturbance. The wolf¡¯s sharp teeth flashed as it panted, its breath heavy with exhaustion. Scars and fresh wounds marked its body, remnants of a brutal battle. Blood matted its fur, and its right eye, nearly clawed from its socket, bore the evidence of a fierce struggle. I switched out of sense share, just as I finished my plate. After thanking my family for the meal, I hurriedly got down and rushed back to my parents¡¯ room. ¡°Sys, how far away is Nightclaw?¡± 447 meters away from your current position. Mainly eastern, with a slight northern slope. That¡¯s pretty close to where I am, about a 3-4 minute walk. The maximum distance Nightclaw can travel away from me before we lose connection is 500 meters, which is admittedly a pretty small range. Should we start? ¡°Yep.¡± Nightclaw carried the corpses of a few animals that I had absorbed, dropping them strategically to create a trail for the wolf to follow. My goal was to lead it to a specific location. Judging by its condition, the wolf was exhausted, but I also saw that it was hungry. That worked in my favor. Soon, another ally would also join Nightclaw to assist in luring it closer. That reminds me. I should check up on Drill. Using sense share, I shifted my vision to Drill, my badger summon. She was already hard at work, tearing through the earth with relentless speed. Her black legs moved in a blur, her translucent, razor-sharp claws shredding the dirt with ruthless efficiency. I needed a sizable hole to serve as a trap for the wolf, which is why I enlisted Drill¡¯s help. Badgers are among the strongest diggers in the animal kingdom¡ªso powerful that, back on Earth, they could even burrow through solid concrete. WOAH WHAT IS TH- oh it¡¯s just Melvin. Hey Melvin. A sudden, ghostly movement caught my eye as a spectral head emerged from the dirt, nearly making me jump. But I quickly recognized it as Melvin, my mole summon. I had also summoned Melvin to help dig the hole alongside Drill, speeding up the process. Now, it seemed his job was done. As he fully surfaced, his pitch-black body shimmered with a bluish-purple aura. Then, in a swift motion, he leaped from the hole like an indigo blur. After scanning the hole thoroughly, I was satisfied. It was deep enough to trap at least one wolf. Now, the next step was disguising it. Fortunately, Nightclaw had already placed sticks across the top, forming a support framework. Once he finished layering them in a crisscross pattern, Drill and Melvin had continued digging to maximize the depth. Now that their work was done, all that remained was for them to carefully lay the thin sheets of bark and leaves they had gathered over the sticks, completing the camouflage. The two set to work quickly, picking up the debris and carefully hiding the trap. It¡¯s so much easier now, isn¡¯t it? ¡°Yeah.¡± I thought back to when I was still 1, a toddler that could barely run. I reminisced back on that rat trap plan, remembering how hard it was to do everything on my own. The struggles of distracting the family, finding the right soul to absorb, and the timing to do everything¡­¡­¡­.along with the beehive. That was a rough time. ¡°Sure was.¡± But now, I have some allies who can help with my plans. I mean, it¡¯s not like they can help with everything, but they can definitely pull their weight¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­.That¡¯s weird. I was kind of expecting the Corrupt Voice to appear after I thought that¡­¡­¡­I wonder why it chose to be silent now. They¡¯re done. ¡°Nice work, you two.¡± Checking the trap out and seeing that it was now fully camouflaged, I recalled the two back into my soul. Level: 49 Ever since my huge increase in levels, I¡¯m able to summon more summons at a time: Nightclaw, Drill, and Melvin¡­¡­¡­Oh, I should probably introduce Jittear. Ensuring I had enough mana and that everyone outside remained occupied with their meals, I summoned Jittear. A wispy rabbit emerged, its black ears tinged with a faint blue hue. A soft purple aura radiated from its form, and its white eyes, though lifeless, gleamed with awareness. With a single command, Jittear vanished through the window, a black blur cutting through the night. Jittear was the final piece in the plan¡ªthe one who would assist Nightclaw in leading the wolf into the trap. The wolf was only about 200 meters away, meaning it wouldn¡¯t be long before it arrived.¡­¡­Alright, alright, I¡¯ll tell you the origin behind Jittear¡¯s name. Nah you¡¯re good. No one was asking you about that. Rabbits are known for their exceptional hearing, capable of detecting sounds from nearly two miles away. They can also hear much higher frequencies than humans. With these traits in mind, along with their natural tendency to be jittery at the slightest hint of a predator, I came up with Jittear. How about you explain something actually meaningful? ¡°Alright, fine.¡± In the empty room, making sure everybody outside was busy with their meals, I silently summoned Rogue¡­¡­.and Juno. You may have noticed that I stopped referring to my summons with "it" and started using actual pronouns instead. This shift happened after I absorbed the souls of multiple types of the same creatures, and a new option unlocked for me¡ªa gender option. I¡¯d been wondering about this a few years ago, remember? What would happen when I leveled up enough to summon multiple rats, or any other creature for that matter? Well, now I can explain. It seems that with enough soul absorption, my summons gain more individuality, including a defined gender. It¡¯s as though, by understanding the essence of the creatures better through their souls, I can now perceive them in a more personal way. We know that, in the past, it wasn¡¯t possible due to my insufficient mana. But after I gained Nightclaw, I finally had enough mana to summon at least two rats. That¡¯s when I discovered something unexpected: I could summon multiple rats, but the following summons weren¡¯t as refined as Rogue. Stay with me now. Rogue, in a sense, is the archetype. Since he was the first soul summoned using the rat soul template and has his own unique template, he¡¯s basically perfect. He¡¯s agile, intelligent, and able to understand orders with total control over his motor skills. But when I summoned a second rat, I immediately realized something was off. It moved, yes, but it wasn¡¯t as observant, and it couldn¡¯t follow even a simple order. At first, I thought it was a matter of building the same bond I had with Rogue, that perhaps I needed to befriend it. However, this new rat showed no signs of acknowledgment. It simply did its own thing, bumping into walls and stumbling over everything in its path, completely unaware of me or my commands. That¡¯s when Sys and I came up with a hypothesis. We know that for a summon to appear, a soul is required. After the first summon, a template is formed, which serves as a saving point for any progress or training the summon undergoes. What this means is that each template needs its own soul, but a soul isn¡¯t necessarily capable of being used for multiple templates. A summon, while not being a ¡°perfect¡± recreation of the deceased being, is still a working copy that requires the same level of soul composition as the being it¡¯s based on. So, if Beric were to summon two rats that take their form from the same soul, it would make sense that one of the rats wouldn¡¯t be as effective as the other. The first summon, Rogue, had the benefit of a perfectly formed template and a single soul to draw from. But when summoning the second rat, the soul¡¯s essence was divided, and the resulting summon wasn¡¯t as well put together. It lacked the observance, coordination, and control that Rogue possessed. Essentially, the soul¡¯s energy and structure weren¡¯t enough to support two distinct, fully functional templates, leading to a weaker, less capable summon. Basically, I needed to absorb more rats for more rat summons. The same probably applies to other creatures. But ants? I guess it¡¯s because they¡¯re not as developed. Let¡¯s keep being silent, friend. ¡°Did you say something, Sys?¡± Yeah, I was wondering when you were going to explain Juno. ¡°Oh, right.¡± After absorbing more rats, specifically a female one, I ended up summoning Juno. It was by this point that I realized I would need to stop referring to them as ¡°it¡±. So, I started naming them based on their gender. For example, Juno. ¡°Say hi.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Juno then spun around in a circle, her small frame moving with surprising agility. She added a small jump, her paws pushing off the ground just enough for a fluid landing. With a burst of energy, she kicked up into a handstand, holding it for a brief moment before pushing herself off the ground. She flipped mid-air, landing softly with a light thud, her tail flicking proudly behind her. We got rats aura farming now. She looks very similar to Rogue, being a summoning and all, but she does squeak at just a higher pitch and she¡¯s slightly smaller. You also¡­¡­unconsciously know because she¡¯s your summon. ¡°True, true.¡± Just to clarify, a rat summon requires about 25 mana, and similarly sized creatures like moles fall into the same range. Drill, being significantly larger, requires 40 mana, while Jittear, a slightly larger creature than Rogue, needs 30 mana. Nightclaw, however, is the heaviest on mana usage, needing a total of 50 mana to summon. Right now, I have Rogue, Juno, Jittear, and Nightclaw summoned. Altogether, that¡¯s 130 mana spent, leaving me with only 11 mana remaining. I¡¯m trying to be cautious not to use up all of it, since Sys warned me that I might pass out if I do. Beric, they¡¯re near. ¡°Gotcha.¡± It¡¯s time to get this show on the road. You thought you sounded so cool saying that, huh? ¡°Alright, FUCK YO-¡± Skipping ahead. Walking on the way to the lumberyard, I trailed slowly behind Dad, who was leading the way with a steady, purposeful stride. He had some work to attend to, and after my request to join, he agreed to let me come along. That is, on the condition that I would watch and help out in any way that I can. Can you guess why I did that? I¡¯ll give a hint. Around this time is when Arthur and Elaine leave the house for school, so only Merrol will be at the house. This also means that only Lucian and Beric will be at the lumberyard. Keep in mind that the pitfall trap is near the lumberyard. ¡°I think you gave a bit too many hints.¡± We arrived at the lumberyard, and Dad wasted no time. He pulled a small pocket knife from his pocket and began carefully chipping away at what I recognized as a wooden chair in the making. I, on the other hand, focused on transporting and arranging the supplies he¡¯d need. I needed to wait for Nightclaw and Jittear before I would continue with the plan. You should probably check up on Nightclaw. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± Activating sense share, I peered into the eyes of Nightclaw. Like I had hoped, Nightclaw was leaving behind small remains, just enough for the wolf to smell and find, but not enough to sate its hunger. ¡°How close, Sys?¡± Around 100 meters to the trap. Switching to Jittear, I found him hiding in a bush, watching the wolf eat a small scrap that Nightclaw dropped. ¡°It¡¯s time. Go, Jittear.¡± As soon as the wolf finished its meal, Jittear sprang into action. With a sudden burst, he appeared, his ears perked as he locked eyes with the wolf. Without hesitation, he darted off, bouncing swiftly through the foliage. The wolf, spotting Jittear, finished its small meal in a quick gulp and immediately gave chase. Just as I had hoped, the wolf¡¯s hunger and instincts took over, and it began pursuing Jittear, following him deeper into the woods. I should make my way too now. ¡°Hey, Dad.¡± Dad let out a grunt, deeply engrossed in his work. ¡°I have to go poop.¡± I explained while slowly walking back. He let out another grunt, a sign of his understanding. I then went to the outhouse like I said. Yeah, I lied. Though, that was obvious, right? After getting far enough from the main path, I broke off and started heading towards the trap. Though I didn¡¯t know the exact route, I had Nightclaw mark the trees along the way to guide me. Following the trail of marks for about two minutes, I finally arrived at a small clearing, the location of the camouflaged hole. Without the advantage of my previous knowledge from sense share, I probably wouldn¡¯t have spotted it through the camouflage. It blended seamlessly with the surroundings, almost invisible to anyone who wasn¡¯t looking for it. They¡¯re only around 30 meters away. Hide. Stumbling to a bush, I squatted low, waiting. Only a few seconds passed before Jittear emerged from the foliage, hopping lightly across the trap. Moments later, the wolf appeared, sprinting after Jittear, desperate to catch its prey. It made a sudden leap, an attempt to catch Jittear¡­¡­..Unlucky. The wolf jumped right onto the trap, and as its weight hit the sticks, they gave way. The wolf''s claws swiped at the air, but there was nothing to grab onto. It fell with a crash, tumbling down into the hole along with the broken sticks. The trap had worked perfectly. Letting out a quick sigh, I stepped out from my hiding spot. Jittear came right over to me, expecting a reward. ¡°Good job, buddy.¡± Patting Jittear¡¯s head, his ears flopped wildly, and he let out a small, satisfied squeak at the reward. Nightclaw appeared soon after, roosting on a tree nearby. ¡°You also did well, Nightclaw.¡± Nightclaw simply let out a quiet chirp, before I recalled both to my soul. It¡¯s time to deal with the wolf. Walking up to the hole, I peered down at the struggling wolf. It was frantic, desperately clawing at the dirt, searching for any ledge to cling to, but there was nothing to find. Its frantic movements were so desperate that it hadn¡¯t even noticed me yet. That was probably due to Rogue. I had summoned him specifically to draw the wolf¡¯s attention away from me. Rogue, agile and quick, darted around just out of the wolf¡¯s reach, serving as a type of false hope. After all, if it couldn¡¯t even notice me, then how could it possibly notice the small group of ants that were crawling up to it? How could it notice the ants, one by one, climbing up its legs? Did it finally notice them when they started entering its nose? It did. It tried to forcefully blow them out, but only a few ants were affected. The rest that stayed continued on, entering the olfactory nerve. Through this, they would eventually reach the brain. And when they finally do, they would- I was cut off by the howls of the wolf, as it began banging its head on the ground. It seems that the ants have already begun. They were eating its brain. While this method might not be the quickest or the most silent, it should work just fine. I could already imagine Dad''s reaction¡ªhe''d probably be a little unnerved, worrying about my safety, but he''d also remember that I could just lock the outhouse door. I was supposed to be taking a dump, after all. It wouldn¡¯t be strange for me to spend a little extra time there. With each smash, the wolf¡¯s head became more disfigured, and the howl louder. This is inhumane as fuck. ¡°It is, but it¡¯s not a human, now is it?¡± ¡­¡­¡­I guess. Finally, the howls became silent. The banging stopped, and the hole stopped shaking. The wolf died. ¡°Can I reach the wolf from here?¡± I believe so. Soul sense¡­¡­¡­.got the soul¡­¡­..tether¡­¡­.begin. The soul absorption process started. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I¡¯m blind again. I rely on my nose, smelling the damp earth and the wet fur of others near me. I hear the whimpering of pups yearning for milk, and the rustling of a larger being moving towards us. It then becomes cramped, as what I took to be the mother of the pack moving us towards her belly. Opening, I indulged in milk, nourishing my strength and hunger. The pups try to push each other to make room, and I do the same. Thankfully, I secured my own spot. I lay resting, sucking greedily. I felt her slow heartbeat, along with the quick heartbeats of my siblings. It¡¯s warm. It¡¯s bright now. The sun shines brightly, casting a warm golden glow into the den, filling the space with light. The pack is lively, with Mother resting while the pups frolic and play. Their small grey bodies tumble over each other, playfully headbutting and grabbing for dominance. I join in, eager to be part of it, but soon realize I shouldn''t have. Every time I try, I lose. They¡¯re faster, stronger, and bigger. No matter how hard I struggle, I can''t get on top. I¡¯m too small, too slow to escape their hold. I¡¯m too weak. The world outside is vast, filled with towering trees, surging rivers, and the fresh scent of small critters scurrying through the glades. I follow a larger wolf, watching in awe as he moves with purpose. His silver fur gleams, and his golden eyes seem to see everything. He pauses, ears perked, then suddenly launches forward. His powerful muscles propel him through the air, and with a swift swipe of his massive paws, he pulls a rabbit from the bushes. It¡¯s over in an instant. Father is skilled at hunting. I want to be just like him, so I mimic his movements. I listen intently, but hear nothing. I sniff the air, but smell nothing. I look around, but see nothing. I¡¯m not good at this. I feel stronger. My fur has the same shine as Father. My paws are firm and strong, and my legs are brimming with muscles. I can hear the rushing waters of the river nearby. I can smell the faint traces of a fight. I can see the rustling bushes, perfect hiding spots for prey. I feel confident. I went to meet with Father, to ask if I could hunt with him as well. I wonder if I¡¯m able to prove myself worthy yet. When I see him, I howl to receive his attention. He turns around¡­¡­¡­But he seems off. Why is he growling? Why is he getting into position to dash? Why is he baring his fangs at me? Why are his eyes filled with scorn and displeasure? Are my eyes the same? I bumped into a tree. I look behind to see that I left a small trail of blood. I can¡¯t falter. I keep moving, hoping to find any possible prey. I was banished. I lost the battle against Father. It seemed that there wasn¡¯t enough room for 2 strong males¡­¡­..an alpha, one could say. But, I wasn¡¯t ready to fight. I didn¡¯t want to fight, for that matter. All I could do was avoid his attacks, to tire him out in hopes of convincing him to stop. From where did I gain such an ego? I couldn''t possibly avoid his attacks. With each swipe and bite, my injuries kept on increasing. I tried to run, but I was too slow. I tried to bite back, but I was too weak. I tried to howl, to voice out a request of surrendering¡­¡­¡­¡­.. But I was too quiet. I¡¯m alone now, resting in a small burrow beneath a tree. I can''t afford to be picky about where I sleep. As I tend to my wounds, I hear quiet footsteps approaching. I peek my head out, scanning my surroundings. Who could it be? There, another wolf. A female. As I stand, she tilts her head towards me, acknowledging my presence. We move closer, sniffing each other, silently assessing one another¡¯s qualities. I like her. We stayed together. We hunt together, eat together, and sleep in the same burrow, though not side by side. I try to grow closer to her, but she keeps me at a distance. On days when she¡¯s not successful in a hunt, I offer her some of my food. She never says thank you, but I don¡¯t mind. I really do like her. Is it the same for her? Another wolf appears. She doesn¡¯t recognize them and hides in the burrow behind me. I cautiously step forward, barking out, demanding a response. The wolf stays silent. Moving closer, I finally recognize him¡ªhe¡¯s from the same litter I was born in. He¡¯s my brother. I approach him, expecting him to recognize me as well¡­¡­..but instead, he bares his fangs. I pause. I¡¯ve seen this before. He lowers into position, preparing to- Dash. He¡¯s going to dash forward. He glares, his golden eyes boring right through me. You¡¯re just like him, aren¡¯t you? He leaps forward, aimed right at me. I refuse for things to happen a second time. I dash forward as well, aiming to win. ¡­¡­¡­¡­..But, I was always the weak one out of the pack. And besides¡­¡­.how could I possibly have the strength to willingly hurt a brother? I walk away. I look behind. Once again, I¡¯m leaving behind a trail of blood. She chose him. It¡¯s normal of her to do that. Female wolves will usually pick the stronger one. I was simply not good enough for her. The forest is quieter than I remember. I don¡¯t hear the river anymore. I don¡¯t smell fights any longer. I don¡¯t see the slight rustling of bushes. I can¡¯t sense anything anymore. I know nothing¡­¡­¡­besides one thing. I¡¯m alone now. I wonder if it¡¯s my fault. Is it my fault that I¡¯m so weak? Is it my fault that I couldn¡¯t beat Father? Is it my fault that I couldn¡¯t prove myself worthy to her? Is it my fault that I couldn''t even protect myself?..........It is, isn''t it? If I was just normal, I wouldn¡¯t have thought of unnecessary things like that. If I was normal, I would''ve been willing to hurt my family. If I was normal¡­¡­¡­.. I wouldn¡¯t have let them win against me. I wonder if this is a form of reparations for my suffering. I think this as I spot the remains of a small animal on the ground¡­¡­¡­Whatever. I greedily eat the remains, but it doesn¡¯t sate my hunger. I look around, and I spot more. I ate it. I spotted another. I eat, I look. I eat, I look. I eat, I look. I eat, I¡­..I spot a rabbit. It spots me too. I chase it. The hunger in me fuels my hunt, forcing me to run. The rabbit uses bushes and logs as cover, but I merely jump over them all. We ran for a long time, until finally, I noticed it slowing down. The rabbit noticed too. In a last ditch-effort, the rabbit jumps. I jump too. Except, I¡¯m the only one that falls. I scratch at the walls. Nothing. I howl for help. Nothing. I try to jump out. Nothing. I¡¯m trapped. Something¡¯s in my nose. I try to force whatever is out, and I see a few ants fly out. But something¡¯s wrong. I can feel more entering through my nostrils. I shake my head in response, but to no avail. They¡¯re in. They¡¯re in my head. I then feel a sudden headache as what I can only describe as pieces of my mind fracture. I bang my head on the ground. I know what¡¯s happening. They¡¯re eating my brain. I continue banging my head. The pain keeps worsening. What can I do? How can I get them out? Why is this happening to me? Someone please help. I howl once more. I don¡¯t hear anybody. I sniff the air for any signs, but I can only smell the dirt of my soon-to-be coffin. I look out once more, but I can only see¡­¡­.darkness?............Ah, I lost my sight. I¡¯m going to die here. I stop smashing my head. I¡¯m only making my pain worse. I should just focus on minimizing the damage. All I can do now is try to have a peaceful death¡­¡­..even if this pain is unbearable. I crawl into a sleeping position. I open my mouth¡­¡­.there¡¯s nothing to drink from. Why did I do that?........ ¡­¡­¡­.I¡¯m scared. Where¡¯s everybody? Where¡¯s Mother and Father? Where are my siblings? I squeeze myself, but I¡¯m not enough to fill my emptiness. I never was. I¡¯m never enough. It¡¯s cold. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I stifled a cry in pain. My head rang like crazy. It felt like my brain was being reduced to liquid form. Beric? ¡°I know, I know.¡± I went to a nearby tree, using it to lean on. Caressing my forehead, I waited for the headache to pass. A small critter bounded up my leg and onto my shoulder. It was Rogue. Despite his lifeless eyes, I could feel a sort of concern on his face. He snuggled within my neck. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m fine.¡± The headache was slowly starting to subside. ¡°I¡¯m here, Master Beric.¡± ¡°I know Sys, I know.¡± 3 grueling minutes passed, before finally, it reached a bearable point. I let out a deep sigh. These Original Insights are annoying as hell to go through. ¡°Are you okay, Master?¡± ¡°Yeah, I am¡­¡­heh, since when did you refer to me as Master?¡± Uh¡­..Beric? ¡°Hmm?¡± Who were you talking to just now? ¡°.....Huh?¡± I didn¡¯t mind it too much attention, since you were under a lot of mental stress¡­¡­.but why are you still conversing with somebody? ¡°......That wasn¡¯t you?¡± What was going on? No? If it wasn¡¯t Sys, then who was- ¡°Master?¡± I turned to the voice. It was Rogue. No, there¡¯s no way- He looked at me with a quizzical look. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± Holy shit. ¡°Rogue?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡­¡­¡­..¡±Hey, Sys, aren¡¯t you supposed to tell me whenever I unlock a new ability?¡± Wha- well, yeah, but I didn¡¯t know that this was po-......... ¡°Why¡¯d you stop?¡± *cough* ahem¡­¡­.I uh¡­.I just now received the notification of you gaining¡­¡­.the ability¡­¡­..¡±Soul Communication¡±. ¡­¡­¡­¡­. ¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­ ¡°Splendid job as always, Sys.¡± I¡¯m sorry.